The Last Chance Ranch (7 page)

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New Mexico in July meant hot, dry days broken up by afternoon thunderstorms. The rain fell hard and fast, leaving inches of standing water all over the ranch. As soon as the storms passed, the cracked ground sucked up the moisture, and minutes after the sun came out, it was like it hadn't rained at all. It was rare that the rain lasted more than half an hour or thereabouts, so when the day's work was done and dinner was over and it was still pouring buckets outside, Ben started getting agitated. Obie, slumped in his chair with his bare feet stretched toward the fire, watched as his lover moved around the room like a brooding mare, picking things up and putting them down, straightening pictures on the wall, and always coming back to the window to peer past his reflection into the darkness.

Obie sipped his whiskey and wiggled his toes, feeling warm and dry for the first time since breakfast. “Come and sit down,” he called, reaching for the bottle and adding a measure to both their glasses. “Something tells me we ain't gonna get much sleep tonight. You might as well take a load off.” He fought a grin as the older man threw himself into the chair, his face twisted into a sulk. “When's the last time it rained this much around here?"

"Before your time,” Ben answered, picking up his glass but not actually getting around to the drinking part. “North pasture flooded out. That little pond covered half the enclosure."

"Ah, so that's why you moved them down."

"Yeah, but at this rate the lower pasture's gonna flood too."

Obie frowned and cast a glance at the window just as a flash of lightening whited out the view. “Where we gonna put them then?"

Ben tossed back his whiskey, his face grim. “Now you see why I'm worried.” He put the glass down with a thump and hauled himself out of his chair. “Come on then, let's catch a few hours shuteye. Rain don't stop before long, we'll be up and everybody else with us too."

Sometime later, Obie bolted up in bed, heart pounding and nerves ragged as though he'd woken from a nightmare. Panting a little, he shivered and realized his chief source of nighttime warmth—his lover—was missing from the bed. Slight movement near the window caught his eye.

"Thunder,” Ben said quietly. “Big one, just now. Think there was a lightning strike close by."

Obie scratched at his stubbled jaw and wiped at eyes sticky with sleep. He climbed out of bed, hissing when his bare feet hit the cold planks of the floor, and joined his lover at his watch. “Still raining,” he muttered.

"Yep."

They dressed in the dark, hands brushing against warm skin as they fumbled for clothes. As Obie pulled his shirt closed, a warm kiss was pressed to the nape of his neck. Lucky for him, there was no light for Ben to see his sleepy, silly grin. He followed his lover into the hallway.

The front door blew open, letting in a spray of water and wind. Juanita, her dark hair covered with a scarf, struggled in holding a lantern which she sat on the hallway table. “I'll start the coffee.” A huge shape looming behind her resolved into Lonnie's familiar presence. Wearing a long oilskin coat and a dripping hat, he carried a blanket-wrapped bundle against his broad chest. He made his way down the hall to the spare bedroom and deposited his daughter on the bed without waking her, then joined the other men as they left the house.

Lights were already on in the bunkhouse and the barn. Obie stepped in a puddle almost immediately, filling his boot with damn cold water. The ground was actually muddy, pulling at their steps as they trekked down the path to the ranch proper. Snow was coming out of the barn when they arrived, leading his and Obie's horses. “Tried to saddle yours,” he called to Ben over the rain. “That bastard near kicked my head in. You ought to shoot that monster."

"Maybe tomorrow,” was Ben's response, now expected.

"There's a big tree down, blocking the gate to the south pasture. Gonna need the wagon to shift it, but I'm afraid the wheels'll bog down if we try."

"How bad's the flooding in there?"

"Bad in the upper half or so, getting muddy down below."

"Let's go have a look. I want a man there all night, ‘til the rain stops. Another one in the barn, keeping an eye on the hay and feed stores. Everybody else rides fences and watches for trouble spots."

Snow nodded, sending a river of water flooding from the brim of his hat. Obie knew the foreman had already anticipated his boss's orders, and what's more, Ben knew it too. Obie couldn't help but grin. It was nice of Snow to let Ben think he was in charge every once in awhile.

The smile didn't last long. The stormy night stretched out before them, and it was a long time until dawn.

By morning, the storm had passed, and the usual summer sun began baking the ranch dry. The hands, who Ben had sent to their bunks for a few hours before dawn, rose and saddled up their mounts, riding out for every corner of the Bar J Ranch to check on the horses and assess the damage.

All in all, the news wasn't as bad as it could have been. There were plenty of trees down and a few fence breaks. The north pasture was underwater, but the south was already drying up. Most importantly, the buildings were all intact and the animals had weathered the rough night just fine. The biggest surprise came from Billy, who had ridden the northernmost fence all the way to the eastern border.

"Cattle, boss,” he reported, dropping out of the saddle. “Mess of them, up in the high field."

"Cattle? How do you like that,” Ben mused, pushing back his hat to scratch his head. He and Obie were cutting and clearing downed branches that had blocked the road to town, and both were thoroughly soaked. “Branded?"

"Yep, all Sam Barstow's."

"Huh. Sam must have his hands full if he hasn't come after them yet. Snow."

"Yeah?” The foreman was coming out of the barn with several lengths of rope, which he dropped in the bed of the wagon.

"We got anything that can't wait?"

"Not really. We'll be cutting up trees for awhile, but we need the wood anyways."

Ben squinted up the hill, as though if he looked hard enough he could see all the way to Sam's spread. “Billy, take a few boys back up there and drive them cows back where they belong. Take Temper, he knows beeves. And patch up that fence, ours and Sam's both. Once you get out to the B & L, find out if Sam needs any more help and come on back and let me know."

"You got it, boss."

"Snow, where you headed?"

"South pasture. Reckon it's dry enough to get the wagon up there and move that big tree. We can cut it up later when there's time."

Ben nodded. “All right then. If Sam's in a bad way, I'll want you to take a crew over and help him out."

Snow nodded and climbed up on the wagon, giving the team a slap with the reins to get them moving.

It was just before noon when Billy rode back, soaked and covered up to his chest in mud. “Aw, what a mess they got over there, boss,” he began before even getting out of the saddle. “We was pulling cows out of some mighty deep mud. Temper and Larry stayed behind. I told ‘em you wouldn't mind."

"I don't."

"Worst part is they had a tree come down on the bunkhouse during the night. Bunch of his fellas are hurt, a couple pretty bad. Ain't got enough men to mind the stock and get the fences back up, never mind fix that roof."

"Hell. All right, go get Snow, and bring anybody else you run into.” Billy took off at a run. Ben went into the barn and pulled out a couple of fresh, strong horses to hitch to the wagon. When Snow came back, a few of the other hands in tow, Ben was stacking tools and supplies in the back.

"Billy says Sam's in a bad way,” Snow said as he moved to help.

"Sounds like it. Go on and take the men over to the B & L. You're all to do whatever Sam needs, for as long as he needs it. Take whatever lumber we've got, feed for their horses, whatever else you think they might need. They're gonna need dry clothes and blankets, so take whatever we can spare. Lonnie, run up to the house and tell Juanita to load up her wagon too. Her and Rosie'll need to cook for all Sam's men as well as ours. And take whatever bandages and whatnot you can find."

The men ran off to fetch the supplies. Snow watched as Ben dumped an armload of horse blankets into the wagon. “Not the most comfortable,” Ben admitted.

"Better than having none. You want me to take everybody?"

"Sounds like Sam needs all the help he can get. Me and Obie will mind the store here."

"I hate to say it, Ben, but it pains me to give up that lumber, seein's how we can't pry any more out of that damned Dutchman."

"I know. I've got a bit of a twinge, myself. Sam's got the greater need, though. Besides, he's good for it. He's been trying to buy us some on the sly for a while now, but de Groot's on to him. Knows what he needs and won't sell him a plank more. We'll make do without it for now.” Ben continued his work for a moment before realizing Snow was just staring at him. “Why you still here?"

Snow had a little grin on his face. “Nothin', boss. I'll round up the rest of the boys and get goin'.” He walked out of the barn, leaving Ben to shake his head.

"Sometimes I wonder what gets into him."

Obie hid his smile and tossed another saw on the wagon. It was one of the things he loved about the older man. To Ben, you were supposed to treat other people right, and there was nothing special about it. He had no idea how rare a man he was.

"You know,” Obie mentioned as he worked, “I can't help but notice that's gonna leave you and me alone on this big old ranch all afternoon. Maybe most of the night too."

"Good thing we got all that brush to cut,” Ben remarked, but Obie could see the little half-grin under the brim of his hat.

"That's true. I reckon by the time we're through, we'll be too tired to do much but hit the hay."

"Then again, nothin’ says we gotta clear it
all
today."

Obie laughed and hoped the boys didn't take too long to get going. After all, Sam was counting on them.

"Ow! Damnit. Stop. Stop!” Obie pushed himself off the musty hay bale and rubbed his chest. His lover stood behind him with a hangdog expression and a rapidly deflating erection. Obie sighed and gave the organ in question an encouraging squeeze. “Ben, you know I'm here to please, truly I am. But this ain't as fun as it sounded."

It had been a great surprise when Ben had admitted his long-held fantasy of bending Obie over a hay bale and taking him in the barn. The idea was definitely interesting—hell, just being naked in the barn in broad daylight, knowing that anyone could come by and see them, had Obie adjusting his britches. In reality though, that hay was prickly as hell. Obie's chest was red and irritated, not to mention his more tender bits. Ben gave his nipple an apologetic kiss, soothing the sore skin with his big, callused hands.

Obie ruffled his hand through his lover's close-cropped hair, his other hand still working Ben's recovering member. “So tell me,” he murmured into the closest ear, “you got any other fantasies you want to tell me about?” The organ in his palm gave a definite twitch. Obie smiled. “Come on, give. What is it?"

Ben drew back, his weathered face tinged pink around the cheeks. Tickled now, Obie pressed on. “What? Tell me.” The older man's gaze flicked to a length of rawhide harness hanging on a nail. Obie's jaw dropped. “Oh my God. Ben Johnson, the most strait-laced... are you telling me you wanna kit me out like a horse and play stallion?"

"What! Christ, no. The things that come out of your mouth, Obediah.” Ben looked mostly disapproving, but a certain sparkle in his eye almost made Obie regret mentioning it.

"Well, what then?"

"I'd like to tie you. Just your hands,” Ben hurried to say. “Although,"—he grinned wickedly—"maybe if I put a bit in your mouth, you'd shut up for awhile."

"You're pretty lippy for a fella wantin’ favors, ain't ya?"

"I'll show you lippy,” came the reply, and Obie was treated to a kiss hot enough to dry up the whole damn ranch and then some. When he finally came up for air, his lips feeling rough and swollen, he reached a hand out and fumbled around until he found the harness. Slapping it against Ben's chest, he smiled and slowly walked backward.

"Outside,” he ordered. Ben's eyes darkened, and his cock twitched. He followed.

Squinting in the sunlight, Obie paused and looked around. The ranch was strangely quiet with all the men gone, and his ears were still trying to hear the chopping and sawing sounds that had filled the morning they'd spent clearing downed trees. Strong arms wrapped around his waist, dragging the leather softly over his cock. He let out a little moan, leaning back into his man. “Your show, cowboy,” he whispered.

Ben growled, and Obie could feel the rumble up through his chest. The next thing he knew, Obie was bent over the training corral fence. He put his hands to the small of his back and waited for the leather. But Ben had other ideas, pulling his arms over the other side of the fence. Obie's wrists were tied to the lower rail, forcing him up on his toes and lifting his rump high in the air. It was a damned uncomfortable position, with the top rail digging hard into his gut and all the blood rushing to his head, but when Ben nudged his feet farther apart and left him open and helpless, his cock decided it was definitely worth the trouble.

He could see Ben's hairy calves moving behind him, could hear the heavy breathing that spoke of his lust. His own member was at full attention and rubbing up the underside of the rail. He gave a brief thought to splinters, and then a finger ran lightly up his spine. Obie hissed and shivered all over. His lover's low chuckle made him whimper. He was totally at Ben's mercy, and Obie wasn't sure he had any.

Little touches, warm puffs of breath. He couldn't see where the next would come from, couldn't stop himself from twitching and moaning every time. His thighs trembled with strain and tension. Sweat sheened his body and dripped off the end of his nose. It was sweet torture, and he wanted it to go on forever, but his body was sending him the message that he couldn't hold position much longer. “Ben,” he groaned, putting all of his pleading into the word.