Changes Coming Down

by Kaje Harper

  Scott said, “Wash up. I’ve got soup and sandwiches.”

  Joe called over his shoulder, “The famous hockey player’s here feedin’ us. Get your asses in for chow.”

  A few minutes later the kitchen was full of men and the smell of dust and cattle and horses and cigarette smoke. The men who knew him said warm hellos, the three he didn’t know well gave him a nod. Scott ladled soup into bowls with half his attention on the door. Even so, he missed seeing Will until the familiar voice said in his ear, “You look real good in an apron, hockey boy.”

  He turned, as the nearest men hooted their approval of the joke. Which only Scott knew wasn’t completely a joke. “Thanks, farmer boy. How are you?”

  “That’s ranch boy to you.” Will shrugged. The banter hadn’t warmed his expression. “I’m okay. We got the heifers moved with no problems. It’s good.”

  To hell with caution. Scott stepped up to hug him, hard, fast, and manly. “So sorry about Graham and Annmarie. You look tired.”

  “Didn’t sleep much.” Will reached for a bowl of soup. “What’re you doing here, besides cooking for us?”

  “Whatever you need. I have a couple days off. I figured today I’m yours.” And always.

  “Sounds good.” Will leaned his rump against the counter and spooned soup, standing up. “Your city ass up to riding fences?”

  “Sure.”

  “D’you eat yet?”

  “Got mine first.”

  “You could saddle Congo and Misty for us. Get us out of here sooner.”

  “Sure.” He set the ladle in the stockpot. “The rest of you clowns will have to dish your own. The boss has spoken.”

  He grabbed his jacket and stepped out the door, leaving Will to the halfhearted ribbing of the cowboys. Too late, he’d seen that “boss” cut too close to home right now, with Will’s job on the line. Riding fences, just the two of them, would get Will some down time and give Scott a chance to get his hands on his man. If Will would let him.

  He gave the two horses a quick brush over their backs and picked out their feet. By the time he reached to lift Misty’s saddle off the peg, Will came in and hefted Congo’s. They saddled up in silence and led the horses out. Joe came out of the bunkhouse toward them. “Any changes in plans for the afternoon?”

  Will shook his head. “The chore list is posted. Start working through it.”

  “Right.” Joe tugged his hat down a fraction and turned away.

  Will swung up on Congo with the smoothness of years in the saddle. Scott mounted his big mare with what he hoped was at least competence. Three years ago he’d known way more about riding cowboys than riding horses, but Will had been trying to fix that.

  Scott followed Will down the trail to the pasture gate. Will didn’t dismount and his horse moved through a neat lean-over, reach, and pivot maneuver to hold the gate open. Congo was young but obviously learning fast. When they were through, Will looped the latch back shut and set off at an easy lope.

  Scott closed his legs on Misty and set her to follow, reflecting that at least his ass didn’t feel as well used as he’d expected this morning. Every dark cloud had some kind of silver lining.

  The air was cold and his hat didn’t cover his ears, but the feel of the horse under him and the pale blue of the wide sky made him breathe easier. After ten minutes, Will reined back and edged Congo to the right so Scott could come up alongside.

  “Nice day.” Scott winced at how lame that sounded. “Cold though.”

  “I guess.”

  “Are we really checking the fence or did you just need to get away?”

  “We’re always really checking fences, but yeah, mostly I wanted some private space.”

  “From me too? I can wait if you need to be alone.”

  “No!” Will tipped his hat back to look at Scott, his eyes startled and the same blue as the sky. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Casey sends his love. So to speak. You know him.”

  “Thanks. I hope you took care of him last night. He’s got enough on his plate without this too.”

  “Oh, I did.” Scott sighed. “It would’ve been better with you there.”

  “Yeah. Well.” They rode on at an easy walk. Once, Will leaned over the fence and unhooked a stray shrub from the wire, but it didn’t need repairs. Scott turned his collar up higher.

  “You chilled?” Will asked.

  “Nah. I spend half my days on ice. I’m fine.”

  Will stared out across the field. “I guess all we get to do now is wait, right? I mean, we’re waiting for the vote for Casey, and waiting to see what happens to the Tri-Cross. Nothing we can do to change things.”

  And waiting to see if I get called up to the Leafs. He hadn’t mentioned the very real possibility of moving up to the NHL to either of his guys yet, out of superstition, and now he was glad. They had enough going on. “I hate waiting.”

  “Me too.”

  Will’s phone rang. He grimaced and pulled it out of his pocket. “Not used to having service out here.” He glanced at it. “Hey. It’s Casey.” Into the phone he said, “What’s up, Case?”

  As Scott watched, the animation in his face drained away, leaving his features pale and stiff. “Go on… You’re sure? Yeah, I do want to know… Okay. Yeah. Whenever you can.” He stuck the phone back in his pocket.

  Scott nudged his horse over close enough to touch Will’s sleeve. “What?”

  “Casey says he thinks it was a hit-and-run. Graham and Annmarie. He thinks someone hit them, knocked them off the edge, and didn’t stop.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  They stared at each other. Will’s eyes were wide with pain.

  Scott said, “Is he certain?”

  “I don’t think he’d tell me if he wasn’t. He said to keep it secret, though. He’s looking for the truck.”

  “Truck?”

  “That hit them. He said something bigger than their pickup and dark green.”

  Scott shook his head silently. Jesus that was unfair!

  Will suddenly vaulted off, leaving a rein dropped to ground-tie Congo. He took three strides away from his horse, turned, and punched the fencepost with a muffled yell.

  “Crap!” Scott hit the ground running and managed to get between Will’s hand and the post before the second blow landed, taking the punch on his shoulder. “Cut it out, you idiot! The last thing you need is a broken hand. This kind of crazy shit is Casey’s schtick, not yours.”

  Will looked at Scott wildly. “Maybe sometimes I need to hit something too. You ever think about that?”

  “Sure. Maybe.” Scott wrapped him in a tight hug. “Then do it. Hit me, if you want. I can take it. Don’t fracture your fingers on a piece of wood.”

  Will’s hands thumped on Scott’s back but not hard enough to hurt. “Damn. Dammit!” His voice trembled.

  Scott pulled him closer. “Whatever you need. Wanna yell? Hit something? Cry? I’m here.”

  “Christ!” Will’s nose against Scott’s neck was cold. “It was bad enough when it was an accident. Shit happens, right? A heart attack. Whatever. But if someone killed them, some drunk bastard shoved them off a cliff and didn’t even stop…”

  “Casey will find him.” Scott rocked Will, wishing he knew what else to say. “He won’t stop until he does.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Won’t help. God, Scotty, they’re dead.” Will sobbed raggedly once.

  “I’ve got you.” Scott planted his feet wider and hung on. But Will still didn’t fall apart, just stood there, stiff and unyielding, and eventually pushed Scott enough to make him let go.

  “Thanks,” Will said gruffly, rubbing the back of his hand across his nose. “Sorry.”

  “Anything, anytime.”

  “You’re a good man, Scott Edison. The best day of my life was when you said, ‘Fun for three.’ Second best was back when Graham asked me to stay on at the Tri-Cross, though.”

  “The new owner will have to see what you’
re worth, what you’ve done with the place.”

  “I hope.” Will picked up Congo’s rein. “I can’t think about it now. I want to ride. You could head back, if—”

  “No way.” Scott managed his good smile. If Will needed this, Scott would stick with him as long as it took. “Misty’s like a rocking chair, and it’s great to be outdoors for a bit.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  They didn’t speak as they turned back along the fence. Will picked up the pace to a jog. As Scott tried to relax to Misty’s trot, he reflected that a month out of the saddle might eventually make that a problem, but for now he had Will to keep company, and an easy-gaited mare, and all the time his man needed. He thanked the fates silently that he hadn’t been a thousand miles away when Will’s world fell apart.

  Chapter 3

  Will turned in at Scott’s parking lot on autopilot. A night of no sleep and a long day of doggedly keeping busy had fried his brain. He’d sent Scott home hours ago, and really, he should’ve stayed on the ranch. He was responsible now. But he needed this. Needed Casey and Scott, and time to be Will the lover, not Will the boss who had no freaking answers about whether paychecks would come out on schedule and whether they should order next month’s hay or not, and who would give the hands a reference for their next job.

  He kept his eyes down and his hat on as he entered the lobby. There was a thin, blond woman waiting for the elevators and when they got in together, she caught his gaze in the mirrored wall. She glanced up and down, no doubt seeing a long tall cowboy in battered boots, tight jeans, and a shearling jacket, and approving, if that slow smile was any indication. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “You live here?”

  He was spared answering when the elevator opened for her on the fifth floor. She lingered a moment in the open door for him to speak before shrugging and hurrying off in her spike heels.

  He stepped out on eleven and opened the condo with his own key. Two steps in and he was met with Scott’s arms and Casey’s hand on his shoulder. He turned to make it a three-way hug and they rocked together.

  “Long day,” he muttered.

  “I bet,” Casey said. “I’m glad you made it. I picked up a pizza. It’s keeping warm.”

  “I could eat.”

  “C’mon.”

  They sat around the table, eating good, hot Batista’s pizza with the cheese sliding off on their fingers and hot peppers adding bite. Casey popped the cap off a beer and slid it over to him.

  “I’ll fall asleep if I drink that.”

  “You need to.”

  “I guess.” The beer was sharp and bitter and perfect. “So. Do we campaign tomorrow for the best sheriff the town could hope to have?”

  Casey shook his head. “I want to work, try to track down that green truck. Before it gets sold or painted or whatever.”

  Will’s appetite was suddenly gone. He pushed his plate aside and took a long pull on his beer. “It won’t bring them back.”

  “Nope. But it might save the next person minding their own business when some drunk gets behind the wheel. That’s more important than campaigning.”

  “Right.” He felt oddly numb. Two days ago, the thought of Casey losing his job had been a sharp, sympathetic pain. Now it was a distant concern. He took another drink and tried to focus.

  Casey said, “The last thing I want is for someone to claim I put my reelection ahead of doing my job.”

  Scott snorted. “You don’t even put campaigning ahead of cleaning the bathroom.”

  “I’m still hoping people will have the sense to vote for results over flash.”

  “Because the people have a long history of not being swayed by campaign spending and a big smile, right?”

  Casey took a bite and chewed slowly. “If it’s about the money, I lost months ago.”

  “Aaargh.” Scott punched his arm. “Do you want to win?”

  “I want to win for the right reasons. Because I do the work well. I go after the meth labs and the drunk drivers, not the speeders going five miles over the limit or the guys with an ounce of pot. I find lost kids, not lost kittens that are sleeping in the dresser drawer after all. Because I keep people safe from real threats, not the fifth suspicious noise Mrs. Windsor hears in the night when the wind blows.”

  “You shouldn’t have yelled at her.”

  “If she’d fixed that loose shutter the first four times, she wouldn’t have freaked out again.”

  “Even so.”

  Casey rubbed at his hair. “I know! Don’t you think I know that? Shit!” But his temper flared and died fast. “It’s all I’ve got. That I do the job, the real job, not the fluff parts. If that’s not good enough for them, then screw it!”

  Will said, “What’ll you do if you do lose?” He wished the words back the moment they left his lips.

  Casey’s mouth twisted with a hint of black humor. “I had thought maybe the Slaters would hire me on. I like that ranch, almost as much as this job. I guess I’m fucked all the way around.”

  “Not yet,” Will said, letting desire creep into his voice. “Not yet fucked both ways, but you will be.” They needed to change the subject. He didn’t come here to cry in his beer or drag Casey down with him. He put a hand on Casey’s thigh under the table and felt the jolt of physical connection. This was good, taking care of Casey. He really wanted this night to not be about himself.

  Scott grinned, slow and wicked, and set his empty beer bottle aside. “I like the sound of that.”

  Casey glanced back and forth between them, but the tension in his face eased. “Hm. One of you two think you’re man enough to top me?”

  “Oh, we both are.” Scott stood and trailed a hand over Casey’s neck. “But I want you walking real funny tomorrow, as long as you’re not campaigning, so I’m the one that gets your ass.”

  “Can we vote on that?” Will wasn’t sure whether he wanted to fuck or be fucked, but he did like hearing Scott get all toppy.

  “Nope. I’m calling the shots. My rare weekend off, my rules. Come on.” Scott grabbed Casey’s sleeve and pulled him to his feet. They didn’t hurry toward the bedroom, but the pizza didn’t get put away either. There were a couple of kisses in the hallway— Scott to Casey’s neck, Will against Scott’s temple— and then they separated in the bedroom to get naked.

  Casey was fastest as always, despite being the only one to precision-fold his clothes. He sprawled on his back against the pillows, watching. Will undressed methodically, but Scott caught their eyes and made it a striptease, flicking his shirttails and sliding the fabric off his shoulders slow and easy, before cupping his big cock through his boxers.

  “Cocky boy,” Casey rumbled.

  “I’ll boy you.” Scott shoved the boxers down, revealing his gorgeous prick, fully hard and already slick-tipped. “Get on your knees.”

  Will stepped behind Scott and added his hand to that big shaft, stroking him firmly enough to draw a moan and another drop of precum. He licked Scott’s neck and said, “What about me?”

  Scott leaned back against Will’s chest. “Got a preference? He could suck you, or fuck you.”

  Will suddenly really, really wanted to be filled and held and taken and needed. “Fuck train.”

  Scott tipped his head back enough to nip at Will’s jaw. “Good idea. You get on the bed then.”

  Will slid in beside Casey. They kissed, hot and wet, and Casey grabbed his asscheek. For a moment they ground together, mouths tangled, bodies rubbing.

  “Fuck, you two are so hot.” Scott stood over them, slowly stroking himself. With his free hand he dug the lube out of the drawer and tossed it onto the bed. “Get him ready, Case. And yourself.”

  The snap of the cap in Casey’s hands closed a circuit for Will, ramping up his arousal, electric need running through his veins. He rolled face down and pushed his ass into the air. Casey’s strong hands parted his cheeks, stroking a dry fingertip over his opening. He shuddered. T
he finger returned, slick and wet now. Will arched his back, presenting himself, wanting and eager.

  As Casey breached him with a finger, Scott leaned past to stroke Will’s hair. “Our Will. You look damned good like that, with his fingers in your ass.”

  He whined inarticulately. Casey probed deeper, spreading the slick, and added another finger. Will pushed into it and opened his legs wider, slipping a hand underneath himself to give his dick a tug. Scott bent and grabbed his wrist with one hand, his hair at the back of his head with the other. “Uh-uh. Not so fast. You’re gonna come when Case is fucking you, and I’m buried deep in his tight ass. Not before.”

  Casey jolted, fingers twitching inside Will, and muttered roughly, “Scotty. God. Go on.”

  Will echoed him with a grunt. Neither of them was good at the dirty talk, but Scott was, and it was so, so hot to hear him talking nasty in the dark as they did this thing together.

  “Oh, yeah.” Scott gave Will’s hair a little tug and then let go to put his hands on Casey somewhere. “Gonna fuck you, big cop. I’m gonna put my big cock in you so deep I’m fucking clear through to Will. Gonna have you both.”

  Will closed his eyes and pushed his face into the pillow. His cock jerked against his stomach, the slit leaking hard. Casey’s fingers curled inside him, brushing his prostate and he moaned. “Not yet, Case. Ease up.” He was usually the slowest of them to arouse but tonight he was already on the brink.

  He heard the click of the wipe container and Scott said, “Here. Clean up, get more lube, and then I want to see those fingers up your own ass.”

  Casey’s hand left Will, and he whimpered as he was left empty. Scott bent and kissed his shoulder, sucked on his neck. “Hang in there, William. Casey’s turn to open up for us.”

  In the dark behind his eyelids, he listened to the sounds of the two men. Casey’s deep grunt meant he’d shoved fingers up inside himself fast and hard. Scott took a sharp breath, watching. Will slid his hand back down to his cock, rubbing lightly, keeping that edge. Scott said, “Yeah, stroke yourself, Will. Just don’t go over.”