Cowboys 03 - My Cowboy Homecoming (13 page)

Maybe
I
was the grown-up between the two of us.

“Stay in the shade of the car, Ma. I don’t want you to get sunburned.”

***

The guys at the garage where they towed Dad’s truck didn’t have much good news for me. I could cover the cost of the repair, but they warned me there’d be other, more costly repairs down the road. At some point, I had to buy a new truck. Or a gently used truck. It wasn’t impossible. I’d look on craigslist or in the paper. I could ask Malloy if he knew anyone looking to sell something.

I’d taken an awful lot for granted when I’d left the army. I really believed I could drop back into civilian life. That even if I had to use a big goddamn hammer, I could make that new life fit.

And I could. But it seemed to me my new life was set on fighting back.

Ma was practically hyperventilating about missing her appointment with Dad. There was no way we could get wheels in time for that. As it was, I had to call a local car rental place to pick up a subcompact so I could get us back to the house. I left my Ma in the air-conditioned waiting room at the car place while I took care of that.

When I got back, she was beside herself. So much so that I asked if she’d seen a doctor lately.

“A doctor?” She no longer bothered to dab carefully at her red-rimmed eyes. Her makeup was mostly gone. Her hair had come out of its neat bun. “Why would I need to see a doctor?”

“Because maybe you . . . are you feeling okay?”

She curled her fingers tighter around a wad of tissues. “Of course I am. I’m just worried about your father. I’ve never missed a week and now Calvin will think—”

“Please relax. You seem awful tense. We had a breakdown. It happens.”

She shook her head as more tears spilled. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Maybe not, but I’ve lived under a lot of stress and it isn’t healthy.” I hesitated to bring it up, but I’d seen people who had mood swings like hers before. One minute Ma was ecstatic and making casseroles for the neighbors, and the next she was losing her shit over missing her weekly visit with Dad. She was even letting people
see
her upset, which was as unlike her as could be.

“When was the last time you had a checkup?”

She pursed her lips in irritation. “That is none of your concern.”

“Sure it is,” I pointed out. “Do you even have health insurance?”

Her irritation showed. “I do not.”

“Then that’s where we need to start.”

“Your dad will take care of all this as soon as—”

“And in the meantime, what are you supposed to do? What if you have some kind of problem and you need to see a doctor?”

“Yancy would take me.”

“Ma—”

“I don’t need to see a doctor anyway, because I’m fine.”

Looking at her red, swollen eyelids it wasn’t easy to dismiss the suspicion that she wasn’t okay. “Maybe someone could help you work through the stress of having Dad in prison.”

She turned to me, her smile back in place, her expression brittle as glass. “I pride myself on being there for your father and this . . . this is so unlike me. I don’t know what he’ll have to say.”

“You did the best you could, Ma. Things just didn’t work out this week. We’ll make it next week. Dad will understand. It’s not like he’s never let you down.”

“Don’t be disrespectful,” she snapped. “I just hope he’ll be all right.”

“He will.”

She fumbled in her purse for a pair of big tortoiseshell shades. After that, she didn’t speak to me the whole way home.

By the time I got back to the J-Bar, it was dark. The air was thick with the scent of wood smoke, and when the ranch house came in sight, I could see why. The cowboys had all pulled plastic lawn chairs up around a fire pit inside which they had a cheerful fire going. Lucho sat in his wheelchair, next to Petey. Fausto leaned eagerly forward, laughing with them. All eyes seemed to be on me as I rolled up in the rental and parked.

“Are you kidding me?” Stu said as I unfolded myself from the damn thing. “Did you buy that piece of imported shit? Couldn’t you find a nice truck or a real car?”

“It’s a rental. My truck didn’t make it to Tucson today. Head gasket.”

“Ah, man. It was a scorching hot day too. Did you have to wait long for a tow?”

“Yeah.” I felt Lucho’s gaze on me even in the darkness. “I got a little sun.”

“Gotta wear sunscreen every day out here.” Crispin used a set of long tongs to reach into the glowing embers at the edge of the fire. He brought out a foil wrapped parcel, put whatever it was on a paper plate, and handed it to me. “Skin cancer’s a fact of life if you don’t.”

“No thanks,” I declined the food. “I ate dinner on the way home with Ma.”

“This is dessert,” Crispin pressed the plate into my hands. “Watch out. It’ll be molten hot. Take your time opening it up.”

It felt like a gas station burrito. “What is it?”

“It’s my specialty. A homemade tortilla with marshmallow, banana, peanut butter, and chocolate chunks melted inside. People go to war for these.”

“They go to war for a lot less.”

“Ah, man.” Crispin’s brows drew together. “I forgot. That was pretty flip. I never meant to—”

“No worries, Crispin, it’s just an expression.” Carefully, I peeled the foil package apart. Steam rose into the air. “Smells like heaven.”

“Nothing better,” Malloy said. “I may be partial.”

“You want something to drink?” Petey asked.

“I had a hell of a day. I could use a beer.” An unnatural silence fell over everyone at that. Jimmy jammed his hands in his pockets. I glanced up at the sea of uncomfortable faces. “What?”

“Turns out I have a drinking problem.” Jimmy’s gaze flicked to Eddie then back to the ground. “I spent a good part of the winter months getting sober. These guys aren’t real sure they trust me around a bottle of beer just yet.”

“Jimmy—” Eddie leaned forward. He looked appalled. “It’s not that. It’s—”

Jimmy grinned at him. “Gotcha.”

Eddie frowned. “Fucker.”

“I trust you or I wouldn’t let you set foot on this land.” Malloy said evenly.

“I know. I just like to see Eddie go all mother hen.” To me he added, “We haven’t really talked about things yet with Stu and Petey, but there’s no alcohol on the ranch right now. I have to live in a world full of bars, though. If you guys want a beer to unwind, it doesn’t make any difference to me. I won’t lose control. I have too much to be grateful for these days.”

Eddie’s smile was full of pride.

“It’s okay with me either way. I don’t need it.” I reassured them. “I’ve lived in Muslim countries where it wasn’t even allowed. I might have a drink when I go into town.”

“I don’t need it neither. Don’t sleep too well if I drink,” said Petey. “Wife says I gotta watch my blood sugar anyway.”

“Well I’m going to drink beer,” said Lucho. “But I don’t gotta do it here.”

“You fart when you drink beer.” Fausto wrinkled his nose.

“That’s a deal breaker, huh, Fausto?” I couldn’t help laughing a little.

Lucho’s face darkened and he gave his brother a swat. “
Moco
.”

“What’s available, then?” I asked.

Malloy dug around in the cooler. “I’ve got lemonade, some of Crispin’s fancy bottled teas from the health food place, root beer, water.”

“I guess I’ll take a root beer. It’s been a while since I had that.”

A can of pop went hand to hand from the cooler and eventually came to me. “Cheers,” I said, before I tipped it back.

“Thanks for being here, boys. Not everyone I expected showed.” Malloy lifted his lemonade and grinned at us. “Only the best of the best. I’m gratified that the changes around here haven’t driven you guys off. I guess that means we’re still friends.”

“Always,” Petey gave Malloy a nod. “Me and Stu here are solid. You can count on us.”

“Thank you,” Malloy’s voice sounded hoarse to my ear.

Crispin put his hand on Malloy’s shoulder.

“So.” Malloy stood. “Morning comes early. I guess we should, uh—”

“Shit.” Stu nudged Petey. “He can’t even say it. You’re going to take your cowboy to bed. We know how it is.”

Even in the near darkness I could see a flush riding Malloy’s cheeks. “All right, all right.”

Stu and Petey laughed. “Should we sing under their window, Petey? Give him a shivaree like in the olden days?”

“‘Let me call you sweetheart’”—Petey had a pretty voice and he wasn’t afraid to just burst into song—“‘I’m in—’”

“‘—love with you. Let me whisper in your ear—’” Stu joined in until Crispin sent a wet rag flying his way. He pulled it off, sputtering. “Hey.”

“Knock it off.” Crispin pointed to him. “My man embarrasses easily.”

“You think so, do you?” Malloy leaned over and hauled Crispin up into a fireman’s carry. He gave the man’s rump a loud slap and took off with him up the steps of the ranch house. “You think I’m too shy to tell the entire world the plans I have for you?”

Crispin squealed like an unhappy possum as they slammed the door shut behind them.

“I do hope Malloy comes out of his shell someday,” said Stu. “He’s such a shy, retiring boy.”

“I agree. It might be nice to see him cut loose for a change.”

From an upstairs window, Crispin called, “Make sure you take care of that fire.”

Stu looked up at him, his expression positively angelic. “I will if you will, Crispin, honey.”

“Oh, you still got it, Stu,” Petey grinned at him.

“I do, don’t I?”

“Boss ain’t going to thank you for that,” Jimmy pushed his chair back and got up.

Maybe it’s because I had to lick some peanut butter off my fingers, but Lucho seemed less interested in what the others were saying than in watching me while they said it. His hot gaze slid over me like melted wax, leaving a tingle under my skin where I could swear I felt the burn.

Jimmy motioned to Fausto. “C’mon kid. Let’s let the new guy put out the fire.”

“You’re going in already?” Eddie asked.

“I’m beat.” Jimmy answered.

“I’m tired too.” Stu threw his empty pop can into the bag. “Crispin wants these in the green recyclables bin by the back porch. The other bag goes in the black bin.”

Fausto looked toward his brother. “You coming, Lucho?”

“I’ll be there in a bit.” Lucho waved him on. “I gotta make sure army here gets the fire out, and then I think I’ll check on that mare, Kiki.”

“Okay. See you later.”

Eddie went with Jim and Fausto. “’Night, guys.”

“’Night.”

Stu and Petey hung back, watching the three of them walk to the bunkhouse. Stu muttered, “Don’t nobody play cards around here no more? It’s ten on a Saturday night.”

Petey leaned over and whispered something to him.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Stu glanced back our way. “Them two? Maybe it i
s
catching.”

Petey snorted. “I ain’t catching it.”

“I never said you were.”

“Naw, but you were starting to look at me funny.”

Stu grabbed Petey’s hat and gave the back of his head a smack with it. “I was not.”

“Were too. I swear, if you look at my ass—”

“Will you quit?” Stu tried to go two for two but Petey got out of his way the second time.

Eventually, the night swallowed them up. A lighter flickered, indicated someone had stopped to have a smoke before entering the bunkhouse.

“Well. That cat’s apparently out of the bag.” I finished off my pop and put it into the bag with the rest.

“You got a problem with that?” Lucho’s chin lifted. “People knowing?”

“Not at all.” I shook my head. “But what about Fausto? Does he know you’re gay?”

Lucho leaned his head back and looked up at the stars. “Yeah. He heard
Mami
yelling about it when I broke the news.”

“How’d he take it?”

“How’d Heath take it when you came out?”

“I never came out to Heath. I was planning to, but—” I closed my eyes. “By the time he was old enough, it was pretty obvious he’d turned into an adult I couldn’t tell.”

“Couldn’t?”

“Shouldn’t.” I shrugged. “Not if I wanted to see him again.”

“He probably knew. Little brothers are adept at finding things out.” Lucho hesitated. “Did you want to see him?”

“Yeah.” I made a production of folding my paper plate around the tinfoil that had held my dessert. “I did. I should have made time. I should have come home sooner—even if it was just for a visit, especially after Dad went to prison.”

“Heath wouldn’t have welcomed any confessions. He let everyone know how he felt about . . . things.”

“I should have come anyway.” I smothered the fire like I was still a Boy Scout, and then walked around the ranch house to put the trash in the bins. When I came back, Lucho was waiting for me on the path to the barn. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted to check on the horses?”

“Yeah.”

I couldn’t read his expression. “You want me to go with you?”

“Yeah. Can you drive?”

“Of course,” I gripped the handles on his chair and gave him a push. “How’s the foot?”

“Hurts some. Not like it did. For a while it felt like my foot was going to burst. Now it just aches.”

“Did you take your meds?”

“Yes,
Mami
.”

“I draw the line there, Lucho. No calling me ‘
mami
.’ ‘
Papi
’s’ okay though.”

“
Papi chulo
.” His grin glowed white in the moonlight. He rested his head back and it sort of bounced lightly against my belly as we bumped along, tightening my groin.

“Not a great walkway. Sorry. I’m not making things worse, am I?”

“Nah. I’ve got meds on board. I don’t hurt none.”

It was too bad I had to push the chair. I wanted to dig my fingers into the softness of his hair. I wanted to knead his shoulders and slide my hands over his chest. As we walked, I ached to touch him.

Stupidly, I muttered, “Nice night.”

“Yeah. I come out here a lot at night.” Lucho turned and tilted his head so he could look up at me. “When I hired on here I wasn’t sure I’d like it. It’s pretty isolated.”

“That’s exactly why I like it.” I’d been checking out every shadow. Alert to each different sound. Consciously, I blew out a breath. “I can look at the stars out here without anyone trying to kill me.”

“God. What was that like?” he asked as I pushed him into the familiar warmth of the barn. “Were you scared?”

“That’s one of those weird questions, because there’s no good answer. Sure we were scared, but none of us were scared of the things you’d
think
we’d be scared of. I was scared I’d fuck up the job and someone else would get hurt. I was terrified I’d let someone down.”

“You weren’t scared of dying? That’s messed up.”

“Sure, at night, in your bunk. But you don’t really think about that during a firefight. While a situation is active, you worry about not shitting yourself. About keeping the guys next to you alive and whether they’ll think you’re a pussy. I was never as scared to die as I was to fuck up.”

He nodded solemnly.

“Sometimes I was scared that I’d get injured bad enough that I’d have to come home helpless and live with Ma and—” Saying that aloud for the first time . . . I knew it was true. “Sometimes I was afraid I
wouldn’t
die.”

“That’s a hell of a thing to say.” The frown he’d been wearing deepened.

“I was just—” I found my thoughts harder to put into words, here in a barn in New Mexico. I came around the chair and squatted next to him so we were on the same level. “I was fatalistic, maybe. I took the job. I accepted the consequences. Plus I knew coming home would be so hard—I knew I wasn’t going to be the same. There are problems inside my problems, and I—”

“You haven’t been here very long.” He cupped my face between his hands. “Maybe you should give yourself a chance.” He smiled. “I gave you a chance, and look what happened. You don’t totally piss me off no more.”

“Despite my obvious flaws?”

“The only flaw I see is your family—” He tilted my head one way and then the other, studying me by what little moonlight filtered in through the door. “Think you could be adopted?”

“’Fraid not. Although I wonder if Dad ever tested me to make sure I wasn’t switched at birth. Wish I had been. As it is, I feel like a grab bag of some sad-ass DNA. I keep waiting for the crazy to bite me, like a giant, hairy spider that’s been hiding in my boot all my life.”

He laughed at that. “You’re going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Is that something you really worry about?” He dropped his hands to mine and gave them a hard squeeze. His expression was fierce and hot at the same time. I liked
this
Lucho Reyes a lot.

“DNA is a loaded gun.” I glanced away.

He flicked the back of my head. “If it is, why not assume you took the bullet and lived.”

He pulled me in for a sort of knuckle-rubbing hug—the fierce affection I craved so deeply. He offered me everything—the playful buffeting, rolling, and roughhousing I missed so much. A pair of strong arms to wrap around me when I started to fall apart. I needed that, because I would fall apart, sometime. I was certain of it.

The darkest place I could find was in the corner of the barn, and I pushed his chair into the shadows there. Furtive coupling was a habit. I didn’t even know how I’d perform in a bed if we ever found ourselves one.

“I need you.” I whispered.

“You got any ideas?”

“Some.” I locked his wheels and knelt before him again, careful of his raised leg when I pushed between his knees.

He hooked his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me forward. “Your ideas are probably fine.”

I unbuckled his belt with both hands. “Then what are we waiting for?”