Do You Trust Me?

by B. G. Thomas

  What had happened to me when it had been something as simple as our fingers touching as we passed a flask.

  What had happened when he taught me to fire a rifle, and how just leaning into me had made me feel things I had never felt with Emily….

  And I realized it was time to let her go.

  What had Amy said?

  “Neil?”

  “Yes,” I said after a long, long time.

  And then something happened. I couldn’t explain it. Something… lifted. It was like that phrase I’d heard a hundred times in my life. The one about a weight being lifted from your shoulders. I figured it was like saying “He laughed all the way to the bank.” That it was just a saying.

  But right then I felt it. I felt this… this weight… this very real weight… just lift away. Felt it in my shoulders.

  The weight of my mother. Of my imagined failures. That I had failed Emily. The weight of fighting my… homosexuality. That I was…. That I was gay.

  “Neil?”

  I looked at her in amazement.

  “It’s time for you to let her go,” she said.

  “God, Amy,” I said, feeling almost high. “I think I just did.”

  “Really?” she said, eyes wide and filled with hope.

  I nodded. Then knew it. I had.

  How? Why?

  Was it the telling?

  And yes, I realized. It was.

  She squeezed me all the tighter. “Oh, Neil, I love you!” she said once again.

  Tingling all over, I told her that I loved her too. Because I did.

  “Neil?” she asked, while I floated like that hawk. “I think it’s time for you to do something else.”

  “Something else?” I echoed.

  “I think it’s time you talk to Cole.”

  I pulled back. “Cole?”

  She smiled. “The boy wants you. And I think you want him.”

  “Amy!” The old self-hatred threatened to rear up again. I could feel it too. And dammit, I couldn’t allow that. If I did I would be lost forever. But the only way I could see that I could defeat it once and for all was to….

  “Honey, if that boy wanted me, I’d go for him in an instant.”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying this.” She might as well have told me to pursue a presidential campaign.

  “Why not?” she asked me, her eyes dancing.

  “Wouldn’t I be betraying my whole life if I were to do that?”

  “Why? You followed through. You were a good husband, and you’ve been an excellent father. You made promises and you kept them. Neil, Em is gone. You aren’t. It’s time, more than time, for you to live for you. Do it, by God!”

  “By God?” I asked before I knew the words were even coming out of my mouth.

  “Em would want it.” Amy smiled. “Oh yes. She wanted you to be happy. Be happy, Neil. Haven’t you been haunted by what you thought you should be long enough? Haven’t you been possessed by your mother long enough?”

  Yes! I had. The demon that was my mother’s illness had possessed me. That was the demon, not me.

  Because right then Cole’s face came to my mind. His beautiful dark eyes. His smiling mouth. The trim, almost nonexistent goatee. The hair that looked so soft and begged to be touched. His arms, popping with muscles.

  He was not a demon. He was the furthest thing from.

  My heart started to pound. “You mean this, don’t you?”

  Amy’s grin was huge, and she nodded with excitement. “Oh, yes.”

  I took a long, shuddering breath. This was too much to believe.

  “You are attracted to Cole, aren’t you?” Amy asked.

  I looked at the Cole in my mind again—his smile, his flashing eyes, and felt a stirring in my loins. “Oh, Amy, you have no idea.”

  Sudden fear jolted through me. Could I do it?

  “Tell him,” Amy said.

  Could it be that easy?

  Easy?

  Easy, hell!

  What the fuck was I supposed to do? Walk up to him and say…. What? “Let’s fuck?”

  “Well, I hope you’d be a little classier than that,” Amy said.

  Damn! I blushed more fiercely. I’d said that out loud?

  “Neil, you only get a few chances in life. You’ve waited long enough. Don’t miss this opportunity.”

  “You think Cole could want me?”

  Amy broke into laughter. “Oh Christ, Neil, I think so! I think so in a big way. Ooops! I said ‘Christ,’ didn’t I?”

  I laughed too. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Amy sighed, reached out and touched my cheek again. “I don’t know if you know this, but Cole was hurt pretty badly a few years ago. Every time we ask him if he’s dating again, he tells us no. I was shocked to see him flirting with you. It was the last thing I was expecting.”

  There was that story again. Someone had hurt Cole. How could anyone hurt him? I found I was getting angry just thinking about it.

  “I’ll admit part of why I wanted you here at Black Bear was to meet him.”

  “What?” I said, my eyes going wide.

  She nodded. “Not so you could bed him, mind you. I wanted you to have a positive role model. As sad as Cole has been, he’s still so happy in himself. I wanted you to see gay men could be happy and normal. They’re not all perverts, Neil. No more than any group of people. Men. Women. Gay. Straight. Lesbian. Bisexual. Whatever. That supervisor you once had. The way he treated you? It wasn’t because he was gay. It was because he was an asshole. Men have treated women that way for years. Shit, for centuries.”

  “Yeah, maybe so. Mom would have said it was because all men are filled with the original sin of lust.”

  “Fuck what your mom thought,” Amy said, and I looked at her agoggle. I wasn’t sure if I had ever heard Amy say that word. “All gay men aren’t like that supervisor.”

  I shuddered at the memory, but thoughts of Cole banished it.

  “You aren’t like that.”

  “You know,” I said, “for a man who’s not supposed to be a pervert, Cole sure has been coming on to me.”

  Amy laughed again. “I know. I can’t believe it!”

  I looked away, closed my eyes, let Cole fill my mind again.

  Fuck! Could I do this?

  My heart started to pound again, and I looked back at Amy.

  “You’d be a fool not to,” she said.

  “Amy.” I sighed. “He’s so young. He could be my son.”

  “Well, he isn’t,” she reminded me. “And what’s age anyway? My mother is fifteen years younger than Pop.”

  “Cole’s twenty years younger than me.”

  “So what? Besides, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Just because you two have the hots for each other doesn’t mean wedding bells are chiming.”

  I hid my face in my hands. Wedding bells? I wanted to giggle.

  This was crazy!

  How could things have changed so much in less than a week? It seemed impossible.

  When I’d seen Cole’s picture on the website, I’d been enthralled. I couldn’t deny it. But then, when I realized he was gay, I was outraged to discover Black Bear Guest Ranch let him be a wrangler. Within seconds of meeting him, though, he’d begun to affect me.

  And now?

  During a short conversation in a hot tub, I’d let my mind go to schoolgirl fantasies of forever. “I’m acting like a teenager,” I said through my fingers.

  Amy took my hands in hers and pulled them down, looked at me, smiled. “Babe, in a way you are. You never pursued what was natural to you when you were young. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s part of why you’re attracted to Cole. It’s your inner twentysomething dying to get out.”

  “You psychoanalyzing me, Amy?”

  “Isn’t that what I’ve been doing for the past hour? I’ll bill you.”

  I shook my head. “Now you’re being silly.”

  I looked away, and saw Cole’s smiling face before me. Was I seriously consid
ering this? Could I be sexual with a man after all these years of denying myself what I’d wanted? What if my mother’s fucking ghost showed up right in the middle of things and I couldn’t get it up?

  “This isn’t going to be easy.”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Amy replied. “And you know what? I think Cole’s the kind of man with the patience to help you work it out.”

  CHAPTER 10: Heroes

  I DIDN’T know where to begin. How did I approach Cole? Was I truly considering doing this? I was a mess just thinking about it. What should I do? Should I say something? Get him flowers? Chocolates? I smiled. He’d liked that chocolate on my lips the other night.

  Let things take their course, some inner voice told me.

  That would be a lot easier, I thought with relief.

  But could I do this?

  Ironically, I hardly got to say a word to him at dinner. He crammed his food down and went outside to prepare for the square dance. My stomach dropped at the very idea as, once again, childhood memories came flooding back.

  But the dancing wasn’t so bad. Everyone was messing up, so I wasn’t the only one, and soon I was laughing with everyone else. Square dancing was also a lot more work than I thought. Vincent do-si-doed and allemande-righted us into near oblivion. Through it all, Cole began to watch me again. His eyes were alive, inviting, and I tried to accept it as best I could. How did I make my eyes do what his did? Could he tell?

  He found a way to swing through and grab my hand as he went on to another partner, and my whole body shivered in delight at the touch.

  Vincent and his crew entertained us into the dark, and that was when I really began to look for Cole.

  I couldn’t find him anywhere. I couldn’t figure out where he’d gone. He’d vanished.

  On my second trip out of the dining room, I thought I caught a glimpse of him in the parking lot in front of the main building. What was he doing there? Was that him?

  I stepped down off the porch and got a little closer.

  He was talking to someone. Who?

  Maybe I should have left, but I couldn’t help myself. I had leapt off a cliff, and I had to take it to its inevitable destination, good or bad.

  It was hard to see what was going on because the only light was the one over the porch doors, but as I crept closer, I saw Cole was with a man.

  A big one.

  And they were holding each other.

  I froze. Were they kissing?

  No.

  I had to be imagining it. Cole said he wasn’t seeing anyone.

  Then I saw Cole try to pull away, but the bigger man wasn’t letting him. What the fuck?

  I moved ever closer and could hear Cole. “No, Garrett. Let me alone.”

  “But, dumplin’, I love you!”

  “You don’t love anyone except yourself,” Cole said, pulling away again. “Now please, leave.”

  But the big man wasn’t leaving. He reached out, grabbed Cole, and yanked him close, crushing his face against my wrangler’s. Cole was struggling, but obviously the big man was stronger.

  “Argh!” Cole cried. “My God. You bit me.”

  “Want to make us the same.”

  “Jesus! Get the fuck away from me.”

  “What’s going on?” I shouted, turning my steps into a full run.

  The big man spun. I could barely see him in the light from the porch, but the moon was rising over the trees, and I could see he was much older than Cole. Somewhere between forty and fifty, and he had a graying beard.

  “What the fuck?” Garrett said.

  “Neil, get out of here,” Cole called out.

  Before I even knew what I was doing, I pushed the man. Hard. He staggered back and nearly went over, but managed to regain his balance.

  “Get away from him,” I yelled.

  I only had time to register that Garrett was swinging at me before the meteor of his fist hit my mouth and sent me flying back against one of the cars. My head struck the car roof, and I saw stars. Then the man grabbed me.

  “No” came Cole’s scream and he was on Garrett’s back. The man shrugged Cole off like a rag doll, sent him tumbling to the ground, and Garrett came back at me.

  The rage surged out of me like a force of nature. For years, I’d held back from the world. I’d been afraid, been scared, but not now. Time seemed to slow down again. Just like it had with my mother. The man was moving in slow motion, but the time warp didn’t seem to be affecting me.

  The second time the fist came toward me, I ducked under it as if it were hardly moving. Then I was up and my fist was flying. I caught him on the jaw, and he staggered back with a cry of surprise. He came back, though it didn’t matter. Somehow, I was Spider-Man or something, and I swung with my other fist, catching him again. It ended with my first punch deep into his gut.

  With an “Oooomph!” Garrett hit the ground.

  Cole had managed to get to his feet and was at my side. “Neil! What are you doing? Get away before he hurts you.”

  Time resumed its normal speed, and it was as if it had turned its favor from me. Garrett was on his feet in an instant and, to my shock, he spit at me. The wetness struck my cheek, and I wiped it away in disgust. The man was clearing his throat again, hocking up more spit.

  “Neil, run! He’s got AIDS!”

  What?

  Time froze again. The night went mute; the darkness even darker.

  Then I was falling as Cole launched himself against me, sending us both in a tumble to the ground.

  Garrett loomed up over us and raised a foot. “Oh, you messin’ with the wrong man.”

  “Stop!” came a shout before the night was split open by a boom.

  We all turned to see Vincent Clark on the steps of the porch. He was holding a shotgun.

  “You, Mr. Granger, need to get the hell out of here before I blow your head clean off your shoulders!”

  The gun was now pointed out and not up. And anyone who knew Vincent knew what kind of shot he was.

  Garrett snarled at the man and started in his direction with a shouted “I’ll take that away from you, old man,” and then froze at the unmistakable sound of the gun being cocked.

  “I mean it,” Vincent said. “Darla’s already calling the police. You better skedaddle before I make that moot.”

  Garrett wavered, clearly confused by the turn of events. This was obviously not going how he’d expected. “You fucking old man! I’ll come back and….”

  I stood, pulling Cole with me, and stepped in front of him. “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I said, surprised at the rumble in my own voice. “When the police get here, I’m pressing charges.”

  Garrett spun. “Oww,” he said in a wimpy, whiny voice. “Da big man gonna pwess chawges?”

  “Or beat the fuck out of you,” I said, taking a step toward him.

  “No, Mr. Baxter” came Vincent’s voice. “I think I’d prefer to blow him the fuck away. Why, to tell you the truth, it would bring me pleasure.”

  Garrett spun. Something about those words seemed to shock some kind of sense into him. “I… I’ll….”

  “You’ll leave, Mr. Granger,” said a new voice. It was Darla, and she stood by her man. She had a gun as well.

  I smiled.

  She was wearing one of her cowgirl outfits. Pink. As usual, she didn’t look ridiculous. And right then she didn’t look adorable either. She looked dangerous.

  “The police are on their way,” she said, a rumble in her voice too. “This is done.”

  “Fuck y’all,” Garrett said again and turned toward me. He started to make a hocking sound again, and we heard the second gun cock.

  That was all it took.

  Garrett turned and ran. He climbed into his truck—of course it was a truck, and it was huge. It roared into life, and he was gone.

  WE WERE in the dining hall, surrounded by family and friends. Darla had herded the guests out, and Cole was kneeling in front of me, holding a bag of ice
wrapped in a towel against the side of my face.

  “Tell me he didn’t spit in your mouth,” Cole said, but it sounded more like pleading. “Your eyes?”

  I shook my head. “No. He didn’t.”

  I looked at my hand and saw a brownish-red smear. Is it blood? Was it Garrett’s?

  “Was he your old boyfriend?” I asked Cole.

  His eyes filled with shame, and he looked down, pulling the ice from my face. “Yes,” he whispered.

  “And he has AIDS?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  I had to strain to hear him.

  “Cole?”

  He didn’t look up until I asked him to, and when he did, his eyes—those beautiful eyes that had first grabbed my attention on a website—were filled with sadness. I noticed his lower lip was swollen. I reached out, touched it, ran my thumb along it, and he winced. “Stick it out,” I said, a tremor of fear tickling through me.

  “Huh?”

  “Your lip. Stick it out.”

  He shoved his lip out, and I gently pulled it, not wanting to hurt him any more than he already had been. Relief washed over me. “He didn’t break the skin.”

  Cole closed his eyes, and I heard a hitch in his throat.

  “That was insane,” I said. “What was that about?”

  Cole gave a long, shuddering sigh. “You said it. That was my ex. He came here to…. He wanted me back.”

  I shook my head. “That was the man you were with two years ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “Give me the ice,” Amy said. She had crouched down next to Cole, and he handed it to her without contest. “You okay, Cole?”

  “Yes. But Neil. Garrett hit him.”

  “Neil is a hero,” said Vincent, now also standing over us. “And he’s welcome around here anytime.”

  Amy placed the ice pack where Garrett’s magnificent blow had hit me like a freight train. I flinched, then let the cold settle against me once more.

  “I can’t believe you did that, Neil,” she said. “You. You ever been in a fight in your whole damned life?”

  “No. But that man was hurting Cole.”

  A small smile crept across her mouth. “No halfway with you, is there? All or nothing?”

  I blushed.

  “What’s she talking about?” Cole asked.