Two Sides of the Same Coin (24 page)

“I’ll make some coffee. You want to sleep in a bit?”

“No, I’ll be right down.”

He was getting up as I went down the stairs. I got the coffee pot filled with water and on the stove. Out the window I could see José and Josh heading across the yard to the house. I went to the mudroom and opened the door. The pantry door was open, and as they stepped into the kitchen, it blocked them from view of anybody in the rest of the house.

“Hey, boss, buenos días! You seen Mike?”

“Mornin’, Jeff.”

Before I could answer their question, I heard Mike running down the stairs. He hit the wood floor fast and began to slide. He was wearing black socks and a white union suit. He was shouting out, “And he rounds third base and begins the run for home! The catcher is ready and the ball flies. Will he make it? He’s comin’, he’s close, he made it! He scores!” Mike slid into view right about then. He looked at José and Josh, and got this sheepish look on his face. The look also resembled a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Well, boss, now I know you have seen Mike. We were worried about you, Mike! Verdad Josh? Is true?” José was grinning like a cat choking on cream.

Josh was grinning too. “Yeah, that is true. We thought, Mike, you might need some help, maybe you drank too much or got locked out or somethin’. As your friends, we were ready to take care of you.”

José chuckled. “It looks like Jeff took good care of you though, Mike. Real good care.”

Mike was looking even more sheepish. I was trying hard not to laugh myself. Josh looked me up and down and then Mike up and down.

“Looks like Jeff is rubbin’ off on you, Mike. You’re startin’ to walk around in your underwear too. I reckon he was rubbin’ off on you all night eh?”

Mike stood up, looked at me, and then said, “So what? I can’t believe you guys would have a problem with us datin’ or bein’ a couple.”

“Of course not, you are mi amigo! I am very happy for you, for both of you. I cannot think of two nicer guys. If you are happy, I am happy. Just take good care of him, Mike. If you break his heart, I will have to beat you. I do not want to do that.” José was laughing.

Josh piped up, “I’m happy for you both, guys!”

José then turned to me. “When did you get the trucks for, boss?”

“Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.”

“Okay, so we will start roundup tomorrow. So then, today is a day off for next Saturday. You two can go back to bed.” He winked. I reached over, put my arm around Mike, and pulled him close.

“We just might do that.” The guys were smiling and laughing as they walked out and back to the bunkhouse. We could hear them singing as they went, both really off key. They sounded like a couple of wet cats.

“I’m sick of pullin’ my dick alone

The bunkhouse is like a jail

I’m goin’ up to the ranch house

Gonna give up a piece of tail.”

“I guess you’re really out now, buddy.”

“You were right about me bustin’ down the closet door.”

“Any regrets?” I asked.

“Hell no! So what’s on your agenda today?”

“Laundry, or I’m gonna be goin’ commando with no socks. I figured if you wanted, we could throw a football around and work out too.”

“Sounds good to me; mind if I throw my clothes in with yours? I gotta do laundry too.”

“Seems to me you’re gettin’ awful domestic there, buddy.”

He looked at me, but when he saw my joking expression, he laughed.

“I figure that José’s gonna put us out in the line camp tomorrow, so we got today to do laundry and just hang around and have a bit of fun, and then a week of really hard work.”

“Bring it on!”

Chapter Ten

T
HE
rain had let up enough on Monday to let Mike and I throw a football around and get some good exercise. We had a good workout, too, and relaxed in the hot tub afterwards. We fixed dinner together, and Mike ended up staying with me again up at the ranch house.

Tuesday morning was spent planning the roundup with José. Wayne was still off. I reckoned the four of us could handle it without him though, as earlier in the season, no one had planned on me being available. I had been right when I told Mike I figured that José would have the two of us ride up to the line camp and start rounding up the beeves in the high pastures.

We’d end up culling out the heifers and calves, and sending the steers off to market. Old-time cowboys would refer to cattle destined for consumption as beeves, or beef for just one. Ours were all steers. We still had a pretty good crop, so I wasn’t so certain that we’d be destitute. Beef prices had gone up, too, so we just might be in the green.

Tuesday afternoon, Mike and I were riding up to the line camp. It had been drizzling all day. We both had on rain gear—rain coats over our jackets and chaps to keep our legs dry. Even with that protection, there’s no way in hell you’d stay dry riding in the rain. The worst was every once in a while I moved my head the wrong way, and some water from my hat brim would drip down my neck. Another front was supposed to blow through tonight bringing clear but cold weather. Neither Mike nor I were talking a whole hell of a lot on the ride up to the line camp. It was a ride of several hours. I was lost in my own thoughts, and I reckoned Mike was doing the same.

I first started thinking on just how nice it was having him around. I was glad he’d stayed with me up at the ranch house last night. I really liked making dinner with him, cleaning up with him, and sleeping together. We had a lot of common interests, and working out together and tossing a football around were fun. We’d both spent a lot of time planning a hunting trip and also talked about doing some fly fishing. We were both looking forward to snowshoeing and skiing too. I wondered if we had jumped into the sack too soon. Not that I regretted the sex; it was fantastic.

Although Mike was really inexperienced, he was a quick study. All he needed was me to respond positively to a touch, lick, or whatever he was doing, and he remembered that. He seemed to note what I did to him and tried it back on me. It was incredible. I’m normally not a touchy-feely guy, but we did seem to touch each other a hell of a lot.

My comment about his getting all domestic was pretty spot on. Only it applied to us both. I was wondering if we were jumping in too fast, too soon, but I didn’t see any of the warning flags that would make me think so. For example, although the sex was enough to knock our socks off, it wasn’t the only part of us being together. We joked around a lot, in a nice way, both in the sack and out. Last night I’d told him to leave his socks on. He did, and when I had hold of his ankles, I worked them off and told him, “See, buddy, I told you I’d knock your socks off.” He was comfortable teasing me about being too cocky or running around without my pants. I wasn’t too worried about losing friends ’cause of being too focused on each other. We had spent lots of time with Sandy, Maria, José, Josh, and others, and there were still plans to do that. Tom, Harrison’s dad, wanted to come up and hunt with us. So everything I could think of was copacetic. I was riding along just thinking about how lucky I was to have hooked up with him, when he rode up next to me.

“Penny for your thoughts there, Jeffy.” He smiled at me. He looked like a drowned rat, and I figured I looked the same.

“Actually, buddy, I was thinking about us.” He got a bit of a guarded look. I figured he’d probably been let down a lot.

“What about us?”

“Just how much I enjoy bein’ with you, and how much I’m enjoyin’ gettin’ goin’ where this might lead.”

“Those same thoughts have been runnin’ through my head too. I’m a lucky man to have met ya, Jeffy.”

“I’m the lucky one. Despite all you been through, you’re a decent, smart, carin’ guy. That stuff you been through turns some guys into serial killers.”

“That’s all water under the bridge. I guess we’re both lucky we’re friends and more, I’d reckon.”

“You reckon right there. We must be gettin’ close to the line camp; when we get there, you wanna take care of the horses and tack, or you wanna start the fire, get water, and get some coffee on?”

“Horses sound good to me.”

“Yeah, I was afraid you’d say that. I hate haulin’ water.”

“It’ll only be two days.”

“True. I am lookin’ forward to gettin’ in outta this rain.”

“That makes two of us, Jeffy.” After a few minutes, we could see the outline of the line camp building through the misty drizzle. It was a small cabin, outhouse, and a corral and shed for the horses. There was a well for water. No electricity or indoor plumbing, but with the wood stove and kerosene lamps, we’d be fine. We got there and got the chores taken care of right quick. By the time I had a fire built in the wood stove, water in the water bucket, and the lamps lit, Mike was done with the horses. They were in the corral, watered and fed, and the tack had been dried off and put in the shed. There were bunk beds in the camp, but the bottom one was a double, so we just made that one up.

“What’s for dinner, Jeff?”

“Let’s see what Wayne left us.” We looked through the cupboards. A couple of cans of beef stew seemed to be calling my name. There was a lot of macaroni, so I suggested that to Mike. It sounded fine to him, so I got the water for the macaroni on, while he fixed up a clothesline. For once he beat me gettin’ his boots, shirt, and pants off. As soon as I had dinner started, I took off the outer clothes too. We were both wearing wool union suits and socks, so even though they were damp, they kept us warm. It was warm in the cabin, and we could see the clothes, both on the line and what we had on, steaming. The smell in the cabin brought back lots of memories of roundups. It smelled like wood smoke, horse, wet wool, and sweat. It wasn’t a bad smell. Soon the macaroni was pretty much done. I drained it and added both cans of beef stew to it. It would be breakfast if we didn’t eat it all tonight. After dinner we sat together on the lower bunk, cuddled together, and just enjoyed the time and space.

“Ya know, Jeff, I just love cowboyin’. Even when I didn’t have any friends at some of the ranches, it was great.”

“Yep, even though we don’t have any beer, like the old commercial says, it don’t get any better than this.” He leaned his head on my shoulder.

“I never figured I’d find a boyfriend or partner I could just be me with,” Mike said, “I was always afraid if I did come outta the closet, it would be the end of bein’ a man. I’m really happy you showed me I can be both.”

“The important thing, buddy, is bein’ proud of who ya are. Do you know anythin’ about gay history and the gay rights movement?”

“Can’t say as I do; it’s not somethin’ they teach in schools in Nebraska.”

“The gay rights movement in the US started in 1969, in New York. At that time, it was normal for the cops to go into gay bars, raid the place, kick the shit outta some of the guys, I’ve heard rape some of ’em, but I don’t know if that’s true, and then arrest ’em, publish their names in the paper, and make sure everyone knew they was arrested in a gay bar. At that time it usually meant the end of the guy’s job, reputation, friends, just about everything. In New York, there’s this bar called Stonewall. It was a drag queen bar. One night the police raided it. And the drag queens fought back. They tore off their high heels and beat the cops with the spikes, they really fought back. The neighborhood was gay, and they joined in. And these drag queens beat the shit outta New York City policemen. It caused a riot in New York. The riot spread to San Francisco. And that’s how the gay rights movement started.”

“We’re still fightin’ for rights that everyone else takes for granted, ain’t we?”

“We are. A lotta people don’t understand how important it is to be able to marry, or at least get the same protection for our relationships as married couples get. Remember Terry Schiavo?” He nodded.

“Her husband wanted one thing for her and her parents another. And after goin’ through hell on both sides, the court sided with the husband, since in a married relationship the spouse is the one who makes those decisions. I know people in San Francisco and LA who lost their homes and everything else after their partner died. If they hadn’t made a will and remade it several times over, the survivor would be forced to sell their home and give half to the partner’s parents. Even if the parents were never there and hated their kid for bein’ gay. Let’s use you and me for example. Say we keep goin’ like we are, and fifty years down the road, we’re co-owners of the ranch. You pass on, and your father is still alive. He could force me to sell the ranch and give half to him.” Mike had a horrified expression on his face. “It’s just as important when a kid is involved. There’ve been cases of kids gettin’ taken away from gay parents, just for the parents bein’ gay.”

“That’s really fucked up.”

“There’s a lot of people who have a belief system based on hate. And they try as hard as they can to perpetuate hate against whatever group is up for that sorta thing. Did you know that one of the evangelical churches, I forget which one, just said in the 1980s that slavery was wrong? Their justification on havin’ previously condoned it was the Bible talks about how to treat slaves. Those people are the ones fightin’ against gay rights like they fought against racial equality, like they fought against religious equality and women’s rights.”

“Jeffy?” I could tell Mike was a bit upset about our talk and was gonna change the subject.

“Yeah, bud?”

“Do you mind if we just cuddle tonight? I mean, I’d love to play, and bein’ together with you that way is way beyond incredible, but I just want to cuddle and hold each other tonight.”

“I think you read my mind, buddy. That sounds just great; you about ready to turn in?”

“Yeah.” I got up and turned off the lamps. The fire in the wood stove had died down, but it was still throwing off some light. I climbed back into bed with Mike, and he threw the covers over me. We looked at each other for a few minutes before a nice long good night kiss.

“Mike, let’s get some sleep; we done used up this day.” I think we both fell asleep immediately.