by BA Tortuga
This was serious. The electric bill was a month behind, the taxes were four thousand dollars behind, and apparently Stetson’s good truck had already been repossessed.
Christ.
That didn’t account for the medical bills. Those numbers were enough to make him nauseous.
He emailed a bunch of stuff to his lawyer buddy, Paul, knowing they had to sort out the estate first.
Still, Christ. Stetson hadn’t been eating to feed the horses and the dogs and the llamas and the donkeys….
The next thing Curtis did was sit down and tally up his finances. Lucky for him, his folks had never needed him to send all that much money home, so he’d always taken enough off the top to live on, then put the rest into savings. It had been years since he’d had to scrape up the loose change in his truck to pay his entry fee.
His sponsors paid for his living expenses, so he wasn’t hurting. Hell, he could help with the taxes at least. Just pay them. The house was paid off.
Now, he would never do that without talking to Stetson first, and he had no idea what else needed to be paid….
Still, how long had it been this bad? How long since Stetson had done his art?
Curtis reached up to rub his temples. Jesus. He knew why Stetson hadn’t called or anything, but he felt like he should have been helping.
He wanted to… to what? What was he doing here? Seriously. What did he need to do?
“Hey, cowboy.” Stetson stomped off his boots, a cold wind whooshing through the door when he came in, barely giving him a glance before asking, “What’s wrong?”
Jesus, his man was sensitive as hell. Stetson didn’t need a nickel to buy a clue about what Curtis was feeling.
“How about a cup of coffee?” He didn’t want to just get all up in Stetson’s business because he was at a loss. His dad did that all the time, flew off the handle at the smallest thing, and Curtis didn’t want to be that kind of man with anyone, especially not Stetson, not now.
“Okay….” Stetson put his coat in the closet, his hat on the hook, then went to start coffee without a word.
Shit. He teetered on thin ice, not sure how to start.
“What did I do?” The coffee appeared in front of him, and then Stetson stood by the sink, eyes like coal.
“Nothing. I mean, I just been digging into that box of bills. I want to help, but I’m afraid you’ll tell me no.”
He swore Stetson got smaller, the look on the beloved face still as stone, but Stetson didn’t say a word.
“Have a sit?” He didn’t want Stetson closed off, but they had to hash this out.
Stetson sat across from him, watching him like he was going to attack or something.
Curtis tried for a smile. “Hey, it’s not all that dire, baby. I just think we need to talk on it.”
“Okay.” Stetson looked for a second like he was going to burst into tears or something, but instead those near-black eyes focused on the table. “I tried my best. I fucked up, but I didn’t waste a dime. I swear to God. If… I’ll go wait in line for day laborers tomorrow. I’ve been lazy because of Christmas.”
“Look at me.” Curtis laid his hand over Stetson’s. “I got to tell you, Roper, I’m not one of those people who believes suffering leads to redemption or some shit. I’m not asking you to go sit in the damned work line.”
“I don’t know what to do. I haven’t for months. I just keep trying.”
“I can see that.” He really could. The stacks of bills were prioritized. The electric bill wasn’t paid because him being there had driven it up. He wasn’t stupid. “I’m not here to punish you.”
“What do you want, cowboy? I feel like shit about this, but I can only apologize for being a fuckup so much.”
“What I want is for you to stop acting like a martyr,” he snapped. Then he gritted his teeth for a moment, breathing deep. “Dammit. Sorry. I just need you to go over with me what’s been paid and what hasn’t, what’s the most pressing thing.”
“Don’t you worry about it. I’ll figure it. I got shit to do.” Stetson stood, shoulders stiff as a board, and he could feel Stetson pulling back, pulling away from him and hiding. Fuck, he hated this stoic shit. “I been dealing with my mess for a while now. You’re on break and all.”
Then Stetson just went for his coat again. Curtis considered throwing his coffee cup right at the stubborn fucker. Maybe if he beaned Stetson in the head, he’d listen.
“So you’re saying you don’t want me to stick around, then?”
“What?”
“You seem pretty all-fired ready for me to get on my pony and ride, man. Stop pussy-footing around about it and be honest about what you want.” He reckoned he might as well be hung for a sheep as well as a lamb. “You want me to go, I’ll fucking go.”
Stetson whipped around, eyes blazing. “Who asked you to fucking leave? I said I’d deal with my own fucking mistakes! I’m not a martyr, you fuck. I’m just a stupid fucking cowboy that can’t tell my ass from a hole in the ground no more!”
Curtis stepped right up, pushing into Stetson’s space. “You’re not stupid! What is wrong with you?”
“Back off, man.”
“Make me.”
He could see it in Stetson’s eyes, a flash of a wild fury that reminded him for a second of staring into the mad eyes of a bull. Good thing he wasn’t smart enough to be scared. “I swear to God, Curtis. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He fought his smile, because he knew better. Stetson Major wouldn’t hurt him again for love or money. This was about shame, and it didn’t belong to him, even a bit. “You can sure try, Roper.”
Stetson grabbed him by the upper arms, roaring with a pure rage, but his lover didn’t throw so much as a punch. “Jesus fucking Christ, I’m not going to be uncomfortable in my own motherfucking house anymore! I didn’t say I wanted you to leave. I didn’t mean it if I did. I’m fucking scared, you motherfucker! I can’t fix this!”
“Then let me help!” Curtis crossed his arms, covering Stetson’s hands with his own. “I just want to help.”
“Did I say no, you asshole?” Christ, Stetson could beller.
“No, you just got up and walked off. We got to do better than that this time.”
Stetson stared at him, and then it was like all the air went out of him in a rush. “Christ, my head hurts.”
That didn’t surprise Curtis at all. Stetson had to learn to breathe all over again.
“We need to have lunch.” He’d done some work on the porch this morning before settling in with the paperwork, and his stomach was growling. “We’ll think better with some food in us.”
Stetson blinked at him, then took a step toward him. “Yeah?”
“Yep.” They were both going to have to learn this part—arguing without it being the end of the earth. Lord knew they were both stubborn assholes. They were going to fight.
Last time they’d let that be a wedge between them. Curtis was determined to do better this time around.
“You want to make sandwiches or warm up soup?”
“I’ll do the soup, I guess.” Stetson was still blinking a little, but he made himself a cup of coffee before he pulled out a can of vegetable beef and a chicken noodle.
Curtis grabbed bread, then opened the fridge to grab turkey and cheese. He surprised Stetson with a kiss when they passed in the open part of the kitchen.
“Hey.”
“Hey, baby. I missed you this morning. How did the pipe go?”
“I dug it out, and Doug and Tom helped me replace it. Chilly out there.” Stetson shivered a little.
“Just thinking about it makes you cold, huh?” Curtis chuckled, then set aside the sandwich fixings in favor of rubbing Stetson’s upper arms. “We’re okay, you know, Roper. We are okay. I should have started with this—loving on you and lunch.”
“Well, then, we both learned something. Go us. Old dogs, new tricks.”
Curtis swatted Stetson’s butt, because the words were sarcastic but the
tone wasn’t. “Smartass.”
“Better than a dumbass, I guess….”
“Uh-huh.” He got the skillet on the stove next to the soup pan. He didn’t mind his soup microwaved, but Stetson liked his heated up the old-fashioned way. They worked together, and he could see it as Stetson relaxed, skinny shoulders coming down from his ears.
A grilled sandwich and soup brightened his outlook for sure, and they didn’t chat much until after they ate.
“Better?” Curtis asked.
“Yeah. That’s hard work, digging.”
“It is. I shouldn’t have hit you with shit like that walking in the door. Sorry.” There. He said it, and he meant it.
“Thanks. I know it’s stupid, to be so ashamed, because I didn’t make any mistakes.”
“Proud cowboy.” Curtis winked. “Can you pencil me in a time to take a bite out of it here and there?”
“I’d pencil you in for anything, Curtis.”
That was good enough for him. Curtis actually felt better than he had since Isaac showed up. They’d had a snarl, and neither of them had run off.
Looked like they were going at this relationship thing as adults this time.
“I want to help. I mean, if I’m living here with you, not just staying here.”
Stetson met his gaze, so serious, and he almost—almost—groaned. He wanted Stetson to hear him, not get all pissy and….
“I don’t want you to think that I have you here for your money. I would have you if you didn’t have a dime.”
“You did.” Curtis grinned, grateful he hadn’t been a butthead. “I didn’t have any sponsors back when.”
“Yeah. I loved you when you were borrowing your entry fees. I just needed you to know that.”
“I do.” That much he did know, straight-up. Sometimes he was uncertain about Stetson actually wanting to live with him, but he knew the man loved him. Had loved him all along.
“I don’t know how to fix the money part. I’m getting some work, but I sold all my tools and traded my wood to pay for stuff, so I’m starting from scratch. You know how it works up here, anyway. You trade this for that. It’s what happens.”
He nodded slowly. Sold all his tools…. Damn. Just damn. “Well, I can help. I really can.” Curtis held up a hand before Stetson opened his mouth. “I’m gonna live here, I have to be able to pull my weight.”
“I get that, but you’ve sorta done that. You did Christmas, bought food.”
“Short-term thinking, baby.” He winked. “We’ll do it like eating a bear.”
“I feel so fucking ashamed. People do this all the time and manage. Why couldn’t I?”
“Stetson. You’re one man. You don’t have brothers and sisters to help out. Your mom was sick a long while.” Stetson needed to stop being so down on himself.
“Yeah. Yeah, she was.” Stetson’s head bobbed, and that weight was back on those shoulders, so this time Curtis stood and went to rub a little, ease the tension. See? He could learn. He could figure this out.
He grinned a little now that Stetson couldn’t see him. Stetson was totally worth it.
Curtis got that now.
“Feels good.”
“Jesus, Roper, you’re tight.”
“Shoveling frozen dirt bites, man.”
“I know it.” He did. Actually. Their pipes froze in the winter all the damned time because his folks’ house was a hundred years old and up on bois d’arc stumps. “But you got something out of it, huh?”
“Back of the truck’s full of junk—wood, some copper wire, a couple of windows.”
“Well, there you go. We need to get your workshop back up and running.” No one around Stetson’s place had any more money than Stetson.
“Yeah. I’m gonna fix those windows and trade them to Tom for parts to fix the pellet stove.”
“That’s even better than windows.” Lord. Stetson bartered for everything. That owed as much to the Pueblo way as anything, he reckoned, but Taos was full of artsy types who did the same thing. Too bad you couldn’t barter for taxes. “How do you feel about me running some broncs out here?”
“We got plenty of room. You thinking on bucking ’em?”
“I am, yeah. I mean, Miles and I have talked about it a million times. He would run them to events….” That such a dream could become a reality was weird but wonderful.
“Good deal.”
Just like that, easy as pie. Good deal. He dropped a kiss on Stetson’s head.
Stetson chuckled. “We got about a million things need doing.”
“I’m on it.” The bills could wait another half a day. One bite at a time.
Chapter Twenty-Five
JESUS, MARY, and Joseph, Stetson was pooped. He’d been working his ass off, running back and forth to make a few deals and get things together again, get things going.
He had to make the money for the taxes. He knew Curtis wanted to talk about it, and he knew he’d have to take some help, but he wanted to earn half.
Christ, two thousand dollars seemed like an impossibility.
When Momma had first started to slip, he’d taken her to three different doctors to get second opinions. That was when he’d sold his tools, knowing the bills would pile up.
Now he wished he’d had a little more faith in his work.
His head throbbed, and he took himself to the back of the house where it was dark and cold and he could close his eyes.
Curtis was on the couch when he came in, curled up under a quilt, sound asleep. Waiting on him.
Gorgeous son of a bitch. Seriously.
He smiled, watching Curtis’s chest rise and fall. Curtis had fed for him tonight, and had probably frozen his nuts off.
Did he wake Curtis up? Let him sleep? What?
Curtis sat up, blinking hard. “Did I miss supper?”
“Miss is a strong word. I just got in.”
“Shit, baby. It’s….” Curtis checked his phone. “Nine.”
“You want… meatballs?”
“Sure. I can make garlic bread, and we can have sammiches.”
“Works for me. Beer?” He grabbed one for him, wincing as the blisters on his hand tore. Dammit.
“Let me see.” Curtis stood, tossing the blanket aside. He walked right up and grabbed his wrist.
“Just from the cold.”
“You’re bleeding.” Curtis tugged him to the sink, then turned on the water, letting it heat up some.
“Am I? I’m just a little sore….” God, it felt good, the way Curtis loved him.
“What were you doing? Stringing wire in the dark?” Curtis washed his hands in the mild pump soap that had appeared next to his soap dish of Lava.
“Electricity to the workshop. Mice did a number.”
Curtis’s face broke into a smile. “You’re working on the workshop?”
“Yeah, I didn’t see you when I got home from working at the Bexar place, so I went to get some work done at the shop. Once I save enough for taxes, I want to buy my tools back.”
“I was down at the organic grocery store. You must have parked back at the shop, huh? I missed your truck coming in.” Curtis dried his hands off, wrapped them up.
“I did. Did you get anything neat?”
“I got some protein powder, but I also got us a rotisserie chicken and some fruit and some of those fancy-ass granola bars I like. And coffee.”
“Protein powder? On purpose?” Ew.
“I need a protein shake. As much as I’m eating, I’ve still lost two pounds. You’re working me to the bone. Here, sit down, will you?” Curtis pushed him into a kitchen chair.
“I’m sorry. Am I?”
“Teasing, Roper. I’m having a ball. Look at all my new calluses!” Curtis had plenty of them before, from riding, but now he had them on his fingertips.
“Sexy son of a bitch.”
“Huh?” Curtis looked at him, then grinned slowly. “Why, thank you.”
“It’s true.” He leaned against Curtis’s hip, the sce
nt of his lover filling him. “I got five hundred saved, after I pay the light bill.”
“That ought to be enough to get most of your tools back, yeah? I mean, I don’t know who you sold them to, but it ought to work.”
“Tom. Tom Harrison. I got to pay the taxes. I know I’ll have to borrow some from you, but I want to get half.”
Curtis bit his lower lip, that expression impossible to read for a moment. “I paid them today. The taxes.”
“What?” He stood, the chair tipping over in the rush. “But…. You did?”
His heart throbbed, the whole world stopping. He wasn’t sure if he felt crushing relief or just shock.
“I did. I mean, I did go to the store, but I went to the assessor’s office. There were penalties and interest, and it was just better to pay it. I figure….” Curtis stopped, taking a deep breath. “I figure it’s an investment for me. In the bucking broncs. And you can put that five hundred in savings for our trip to Boulder or in tools. I’m easy.”
“God.” He reached out for Curtis’s hand, the sudden loss of pressure around his shoulders enough to make him sick. He wasn’t going to lose the ranch.
God.
He wasn’t going to lose his home.
“You okay?” Curtis took his hand and pulled him into a hug. “I could have made a payment plan, but I just had to transfer some money from savings.”
He couldn’t breathe.
“Baby? Are you okay?” Curtis muscled him into another chair, kneeling before him.
No. No, he wasn’t. He wasn’t okay. He couldn’t fucking breathe. He blinked at his lover, just staring.
“Stetson?”
Curtis had to think he was the worst kind of broke-dick asshole. All Curtis had to do was transfer money around. Shit. He didn’t even have a checking account right now.
“Talk to me.” Curtis looked stressed out as all fuck, and Stetson didn’t get it. What did Curtis have to be stressed about? He came out here because he felt sorry for them, for the poor ranchers, and saved everything.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Thank you?”
Stetson stood up so fast, the chair went flying, and Curtis went the other way. “Thank you?” Fuck, the words felt dry as the dust that made up the land. “You did it, cowboy. You rode in, you made Momma happy, you saved the ranch. You did it all in a couple of seconds.”