by BA Tortuga
“Yeah, I thought I’d use up that old wood. It’s a mite chilly.”
“It is. I’ll be freezing once I stop sweating.” Curtis came to him, leaning against his back, burrowing both hands under his jacket.
He managed not to start, but he knew Curtis felt his muscles jumping and shuddering under that chilly touch. “Be-be careful, now. Mine are like blocks of ice.”
“Oh, payback!” Curtis kissed the back of his neck.
“You all packed for tomorrow?” He was gonna miss Curtis like a lost tooth. He’d forgotten what it felt like to not be lonely. He sure as shit would be regretting that come the morning.
“Mostly, yeah. Do I need to help feed the dogs or anything?”
“Nope. It’s all done. All you have to do is sit with me awhile.” Just come and act like this ain’t the last bit of wood, like you won’t be gone tomorrow, and like I won’t be sitting there in the home tomorrow, listening to Momma call me by Daddy’s name. Like once you leave, you’ll be well and truly gone.
“I can so do that.” Curtis grabbed a sweatshirt off the recliner, then tugged it on.
He shrugged off his coat, checked the fire, then went to sit with Curtis on the couch, snuggling close.
“Hey.” Curtis kissed his chin, then his cheek. “Bristly. I wish I could stay, you know.”
“I know.” Liar. “It’s the Finals. You have to go.” He would go if he could.
“I do. I could—” Curtis bit his lip, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say.
“I have to stay. You have to go. Momma and I will be watching you ride, just like always.”
“Always?” Curtis gave him the raised eyebrow look. “Well, now. I was gonna say I want to come back for Christmas. I just don’t want to put a burden on you.”
“I always watch you ride.” A slow panic began to fill him. A burden? How did…. Curtis couldn’t know how truly bad it was, right?
“I love that.” Curtis leaned. “I mean, Christmas has to be tough. With Momma. I don’t want you to feel like you have to let me come stay and deal with all your other stuff. I can help with feedings and all.”
“I want you here.” He wouldn’t have the ranch next Christmas. This would be the old place’s last hurrah, so why not make it a good one, with laughter and hot sex and even hotter posole on Christmas Eve.
“Then I’ll come on as soon as the Finals are over. Do you want…. Should I bring a little tree?”
“Surely. We’ll have a grand holiday.”
“We will.” Curtis was all smiles now, that famous cowboy mug wreathed in them. “Do you remember the first time I came to stay here?”
Stetson nodded. Curtis had gotten stepped on, right where it hurt, and Stetson had brought him home. He didn’t have to worry about Momma accusing them of getting into something because all of Curtis’s bits were bruised and broken. “I thought the drive was going to kill you.”
“You’re not the only one. Your mom had all these faith healers coming in.”
“And that lady that drew on your cast.” Stetson started laughing, and that was good, because he didn’t think he had any laughs left.
“I’d never seen a ranch look like this. Never seen so many animals with so little grass.”
“It’s our way. Where are you staying in Vegas?” Stetson was desperately curious about the things he couldn’t glean from the broadcast.
“Off strip. One of those places with the shuttle and the cheap-ass buffet. I get more sleep that way.”
“Ah. Good deal.” He felt like a bumpkin these days, which was mostly okay, because they all were. Everybody was hurting; everybody was broke-dick and running cattle through the dirt. Curtis had told him, all those years ago, that he’d hoped that holding on to the ranch was worth it. God, he didn’t know how to answer that anymore. “I hope you have a good event.”
“Me too. I’ve been having a good year. It would suck to fall down now.” Curtis stroked his arm. “I wish you could come. I know, I know. If wishes were horses….”
“I can’t leave Momma. Not now.” She was fading fast. Hell, he wasn’t sure she’d be with him by Christmas. He wouldn’t leave her to do this alone.
“I know. I worry I’ve taken too much time.” Curtis sighed. “I’m so sorry, babe. You know that, right? She’s a fine lady.”
“It’s time. This ain’t living. Not really. Not at all.”
Curtis just hugged him close, not saying nothin’ else. What was there to say about Momma?
Not a fucking thing. It wasn’t fair and not much was, the end.
He leaned on Curtis and listened to the pinyon knots popping in the fireplace. Fair or not, he had this right now. This very moment was damned good.
“It’ll be okay, honey. I’ll ride and then I’ll be back for Christmas.”
He patted Curtis’s leg. “Don’t worry on me. I can hold down the fort, no stress.”
After all, he’d been doing it for a lot of years. What was a couple of weeks if he got to spend another holiday with this man he loved so much?
“It’s good to have someplace to come. Thank you.” Curtis said it softly, but he thought it was true.
“Glad you came out.” He looked at their fingers, loving how they looked twined together—a pair of scarred, tore up, tanned men just holding on in a world that liked to drown them as well as buoy them. “You’re the good in a whole passel of crap.”
“Am I?” Curtis’s cheeks flushed. “Thanks, Roper. I want to be. I want to help.”
“You do. You are. Whatever. You know what I mean.”
“I do.” Curtis hummed a little, and he thought it was a Christmas song.
He let it warm him. The ranch was fixin’ to be cold tomorrow.
Chapter Ten
“HEY, CT! You ready for round one?” His buddy Miles popped up next to him by the rail, and Curtis damn near jumped out of his skin.
“You know it. I want to get it over with.” He felt like he’d been out of the game forever. Hell, Curtis felt as though part of his brain was still back with Roper.
All his damn heart was, and that was the truth.
“Damn, you’re jittery,” Miles murmured.
“I am. I got all ants in the pants, huh?”
“Good on you. Ought to help you ride.” Miles clapped him on the shoulder. Then his friend sobered. “How’s Stetson’s momma?”
“Dying.”
Miles’s face fell. “Shit marthy. I’m real sorry, man. I was praying for a miracle for him.”
“Me too.” Curtis sighed. “She’s so mad when she knows what’s going on, like she wants to beat down the world.”
“I can’t even imagine. How’s Stetson holding up?”
“Stretched thin.” He didn’t want to talk about Stetson’s lack of funds, but he knew it was a problem. Stubborn cowboy. Curtis wanted to pay off loans or invest or something, but how did he bring that up without hurting Stetson bad?
“Yeah.” Miles nodded. “Thank God I got me some brothers to work the land, and they got me to make money.”
“Right?” See, that could work, but they’d gone round and round about that already. Stetson would want him there, and if they were ever gonna make it work, Curtis knew he’d have to stay.
Curtis wasn’t sure he could do that. Not yet. Soon. A year, maybe, and he’d be ready to retire. The ranch had felt more like home than anything since he’d left his folks’ place in Texas, right? Shit, the ranch was… it was where Stetson was. “How’s it going for you, man? You riding good?”
“Yep. Stampede pushed me over the top ten. Sitting in eighth now. I’ll be in the big money, I keep this up.”
“Fucking A.” Curtis intended to take it all, but he was always glad when his buds made it to the top with him.
“Right? You can say you knew me when.”
“You have to stand in line, buddy.”
“You took time off. You’ll have to work for it.” Miles grinned at him, pure evil shining through. “You gained weight, m
an?”
“No.” He had. Three pounds. It wouldn’t affect his balance, and he’d worked out every day—crunches and sit-ups and push-ups.
“You sure?” Miles couldn’t stop his grin for love or money.
“Positive. See?” He patted his belly, which was flat under his buckle, thank God. Hell, the way Stetson had petted him, he knew he had to look good.
“I do.” Too bad that ship hadn’t floated for a second. Him and Miles? Lord, that had been a wreck. One terribly bad night with lots of beer later, they’d decided friends was the way to go.
“You know I carry all my weight in my ass,” Curtis said, trying to get Miles to hoot and slap his leg.
“You and your lead backside.” Miles rolled his eyes.
“Keeps me in the middle.”
“That it does. You going to ride in all three events?”
“Going for all-around,” he agreed. “I have to. Got to beat out the ropers.”
“You can have the bareback and the bulls; leave me the saddle broncs.”
“We’ll see how I score out. I want to win, Miles.”
“Yeah? You feeling it?” Miles started rocking side to side, beginning to warm up, just a bit.
“I am.” And suddenly he was. A plan was forming in his mind, a reason to get the job done.
He had a goal, and God help him, that was what he needed. A direction. A way to keep his mind in the middle.
Curtis rocked his head on his neck. Right. Time to warm up, get moving. Stetson wouldn’t thank him for bucking off.
No, he had to put on one last show for Miz Betty. He bounced up on the toes of his boots, grinning at the cameraman who came by.
Somewhere Stetson would see that and know that smile was for him.
Chapter Eleven
“LOOK, MOMMA. It’s Curtis. He’s waving to you.” Stetson didn’t bother to look and see whether she was paying attention. He knew she wasn’t. She sat there and breathed, in and out, in and out, gurgling. She was starving to death. She hadn’t swallowed in three days.
He swore by all he held holy, he was going to find somebody to get him some insulin in a huge dose, and he was going to put her out of her misery. This wasn’t fair.
Not a bit of it.
So instead of staring at her, he watched the streaming on his phone, here where there was Wi-Fi.
He watched Curtis.
Round three of the Finals, and Curtis led in bareback and bull riding. He was second in saddle broncs, and he was edging out one of the ropers for all-around by something like eighty points.
Every night Curtis called. Every night Curtis asked about Momma. Every night Stetson lied.
“Yeah, she’s rooting for you, cowboy,” he would say. “She went to bed right after the round.”
Somewhere that was true. Momma loved Curtis to death. More than that, she liked him.
The bull riding came up, and he leaned his elbows on his knees, staring at the screen. “Come on, cowboy.”
Miles Bend was pulling Curtis’s rope; Hank Rogers had hold of his vest. That was like a top-three ice cream sandwich, and Lord it was a pretty sight.
“I swear, Momma, you better not be able to hear me thinking, because I’m a bad, bad man.”
He grinned a little, then glanced at her. His smile faded. She needed to sleep. Maybe she was asleep. Who the hell knew?
Curtis was wearing his lucky shirt, the dark blue paisley looking fine on him.
Stetson clenched his hands when Curtis settled into place, then nodded.
The little Mexican bull turned toward the left, spinning fast as he tried to buck Curtis off. Curtis had ridden bulls twice as big and twice again as mean, but this one was quick as a wink, and that meant G forces.
“Come on, cowboy.” He nodded with every second. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Come on. You can do it. Eight. “Yes!”
The score wasn’t going to set the world on fire, but it was a score.
“Seventy-five, Momma! That keeps him above water. And this isn’t his best event.” He was so fucking proud. “That’s our cowboy right there. He’s going for it.”
He glanced over to find Momma staring at the TV, and he knew she wasn’t seeing what he was, but he hoped it gave her some solace.
At least her eyes were open.
He turned off the streaming video and tucked away his phone. “You ready for bed, Momma?”
She didn’t answer, the weird gurgling of the tube the only sound. He told himself that it was a blessing, that the last thing she’d said to him was that she loved him.
That was all right.
He rose, then kissed her cheek. “Night, Momma.” He would stay in the trailer tonight; he had people feeding, and the dogs were gonna forget who he was.
The night nurse was new, but he seemed kind enough, with an easy smile, a gentle manner. “You gone, Mr. Stetson?”
“I’ll be out in the parking lot. Y’all holler if you need me.”
“It’s damn cold tonight.”
It was damn cold every night. “Thanks, man. I’ll bundle up.”
“You need extra blankets, you holler at us,” the nurse murmured.
“Thank you. I’ll be in later to steal coffee, I’m sure.” He headed to the trailer and climbed up into the comforting scent of animal and hay. He settled into the blankets and waited for his phone call.
It didn’t take long, the buzz shaking his phone in his pocket. Curtis’s name was like magic, making him smile.
“Hey, cowboy. Good ride.”
“Hey, Roper.” That voice flowed over him like warm honey. “Thanks. It was solid. That little bull turned me every which ways but loose, huh?”
“You handled it, though, even spurred a little.”
“I did. Damn, I’m ready to come home.”
His heart flip-flopped, and Stetson told himself not to read too damned much into that.
“You’ve got another six days, huh? How many rides do you have left?” He pulled the collar of his coat up.
“Three, I hope. Maybe four. Depends on Louis Dreyman.” That was the guy chasing Curtis’s dollar total.
“You want I should come hit him in the knee?” he teased.
“Yes. Immediately.” Curtis chuckled. “Did you smoke today?” Curtis was giving him hell about the cigarettes.
“Yeah. A few.” Half a pack.
“Stop it.” All iron, those two words. “I need you all rarin’ to go when I get back, not down with bronchitis or something.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing you again. I…. You know.”
“I know.” Curtis lowered his voice. “I want you, Roper.”
Oh, that warmed him a little. “You can have me. Whenever.”
He was a little stiff now, a little sore, but he’d manage, if Curtis was here.
“Okay.” Curtis chuckled, the warm sound keeping the cold night at bay. Then the inevitable question came. “How’s Miz Betty?”
Dying. “’Bout the same. We were watching your ride today.”
It was a lie, but a necessary one. Curtis needed to keep his mind in the middle.
“Damn. I keep hoping she’ll perk up. I know it’s stupid, but there it is.”
“We’re rooting for you. How’re you feeling? Your body holding up?”
“Yeah, actually. I hate to jinx myself, but I been riding good, and I’m just a little bruised.”
Maybe he was taking all the sore in Curtis’s place. That would make a great story for some horror writer, huh? Lord have mercy.
“Did you have supper?”
Curtis paused long enough Stetson knew he was about to get the load of crap this time. “I had a bite with Miles.”
“Liar. Try again.”
“I had a bite or two off Miles’s plate. I’ll grab a salad from room service, I swear.”
“Yeah? Because you have to keep your energy up.”
“I do. Chicken Caesar. I promise.”
Well, Curtis had never made him a promise, then broken it.
“Mmm. Eat the croutons for me?” He loved crunchy bread.
“I will. Acceptable carbs. I might even eat a few bites of a carrot cake.”
He’d seen Curtis do that. Order a big slab of cake from room service and eat two bites before tossing it.
“Oh, man. I should be there to finish it for you.”
“You so should. I’ll stop and get one on the way into town.”
“Fair deal.” He shivered a little, pondering running in and grabbing another cup of coffee. It was shitty, but it was hot.
“You okay, Roper? Are you in that fucking trailer?”
“Huh?”
“Roper….”
“Don’t you worry on this old cowboy.”
“I worry about you every day. That hasn’t changed.” Curtis sighed, the sound like a gust of wind. “I hate thinking about you sleeping in the trailer. How cold is it, Roper? How cold are you?”
“I’m fine.” If it got any colder, they would let him sack out in an unused waiting room.
“Let me get you a hotel room, Stetson. Just for tonight.”
“I’m fine, cowboy. Let it go.”
“I can’t. It has to be freezing there. Shit, it’s below freezing here in Vegas.”
“Is it? Damn, you have your coat with you?”
“I do. Shearling and all.” Curtis barked out a laugh. “Don’t you deflect.”
“De-whatzit?”
“Butthead. Don’t you turn it back on me. Please, baby. Let me get you a room.”
Stetson smiled, the care almost unbearable. “Tomorrow, huh? Ask me tomorrow.”
“Okay. I will. I need you all healthy, okay? Are you eating? They feeding you at the hospital?”
“All the Jell-O I can eat!” They were good to him, honestly, bringing him the tray of food Momma couldn’t eat.
“Okay. God, this hotel is loud. Even in my room. I got spoiled at the ranch.”
“It’s not loud out there, is it?” He had to chuckle, because there was nothing like being home and knowing no one was coming to bother you. That was a silence unlike any other.
“Nope. I mean, the coyotes let us hear them, but that’s about it.” Curtis had the best laugh.