The next morning
Jim arrived within ten minutes of me calling him. I noticed he
made it a point to check the other bedroom to see if the bed was
disturbed. It wasn’t. I thought about it, but I didn’t try
to deceive him. I didn’t care if he knew O.C. and I slept
together in the same bed. I laughed to myself to imagine it might
give ole Jim a couple of jack-off fantasies.
Jim took us to
breakfast in the Officer’s Mess, and it was wonderful. The same
set of officers were there and we sat with them again. We weren’t
the center of attention any more, and we had a relaxed breakfast.
We went
to see Socks next and she was considerably stronger. She had her
sense of humor back and was feeling much better. She kept telling
me how good they were treating her and how good the chow was.
While we were there, they slowly walked her up and down the isle of the
large infirmary to exercise her. They talked about moving her to
their other barn, but decided to keep her under observation for one
more day and night. I thanked all of the staff for their help and
kindness.
Jim took us to
the hospital. After paying his respects to Curtis, Jim left us
alone; however not before telling us again to call him whenever we
needed anything. If he didn’t hear from us, he’d check back
before noon to see what we wanted to do for lunch. We were
welcome to have lunch with Mr. Langtry, be his guest again at the
Officer’s Mess or he would take us off base to eat if that’s what we
wanted.
Curtis just
finished his breakfast and was sitting on the side of his bed.
There was the same big, male nurse who brought him his food the day
before helping Curtis to stand. It was his job to get him on his
feet and walking. Today he had to walk halfway down the hall and
back three times during the day and once before bedtime. We
walked with them, and it was no trip around the maypole for my
granddad. His hip was giving him some righteous discomfort, but
he was courageous and gutted it out. By the time nurse Ken got
him back to his bed, beads of perspiration were forming on Curtis’ brow.
“You all right,
Sir?” I asked him.
The nurse was
fluffing his pillows as Curtis began to lay back. “It’s a little
uncomfortable, Son,— but it has to be done. A body heals quicker
if’n it’s exercised regularly.”
Nurse Ken
hardily agreed with him.
“We just visited
Socks and they were walking her up and down the isle of the barn.
They may transfer her tomorrow to a regular barn stall where she can
get outside and get a little fresh air if she wants. She seems to
be doing great.” O.C. said to him.
“That’s really
good news. Glad she’s feeling better. I look forward to
seeing her again.” said Curtis.
“You given any
thought to what you might like to do when they release you, Sir?”
I asked him.
“No, I
haven’t. I’m jes’ take’n things one hour at a time.”
“Maybe that’s
best, Dad.” said O.C., “Casey and I talked last evening and
wondered if you might like to come home with me for a while, at least
until you git back on your feet. We could take Socks to my place
and take care of her until she’s ready to go back to the remuda.”
“Sounds like a
good idea; however, I don’t know’s I want Socks going back to the
remuda. I done me some think’n on it, and I want her to have a
better life than being just another cow pony. Yore’ suggestion of
taking her to yore’ place when we’re released sounds good to me.
I would be happy to come stay with you a while, Ocie, and maybe one of
his weekends off from the ranch, I can go up and visit Casey.”
“Sounds good to
me.” I stated and smiled at him.
We stayed and
talked with Curtis most of the morning. My cell phone vibrated in
my shirt pocket. I flipped it open to talk,
“Casey.” I
announced.
“Howdy, cowboy,—
this is Sticker. Jes’ thought I’d check in with ya’ll and see how
things were going.”
“Fine, Mr.
Wiggins. Things are going fine. They had Socks walking this
morning and they’re talking about transferring her to their regular
barn tomorrow so she can get some fresh air if she wants. We’ve
been here, in the hospital, with Mr. Langtry all morning. They
got him up and walking this morning and they’s gonna’ walk him again
after lunch and supper. He’s regained a lot of color, and he’s
look’n almost like the cowboy he was.”
“Good!
That’s great news. Glad to hear it. Well, Gip took custody of the
foursome and booked them on numerous charges including attempted
murder. Gip drove on down last night and he and several of his
neighbors are here working with us. We got all them cows rounded
up, and we’re slowly moving ‘em back to the holding pens to work on
‘em. It’s over four hundred head of cattle. Has Curtis said
anything about what he’s gonna’ do when he’s released from the
hospital?”
“We talked about
it some,— here, I’ll let chu’ talk with him.”
I handed the
phone to my granddad, and he and Sticker talked for a while. He told
sticker what we discussed.
“Look, Curtis,
don’t chu’ worry none about the ranch. We’ll make do. Take
your time to heal properly. Y’ain’t took no vacation since you
been work’n for me. Every year I pay you an extra month’s
vacation salary you never take. Take some time to be with those
you love. Don’t worry about the damn job, it’ll be here when you
wanna’ come back. I think staying with O.C. is a fine idea.
You can be with Bubba and his boys. Maybe you can get to know
that young cowboy a little better what saved yore’ life. He’s a
fine young man, Curtis.”
They talked for
a while longer and Curtis handed the phone back to me. I let
Sticker say ‘hello’ to O.C. and they exchanged some words that had O.C.
laughing his ass off. I know Sticker’s sense of humor and knew he
was being wicked. Finally O.C. handed the phone back to me, and I
said my goodbyes.
We decided to
have lunch with Curtis. The food wasn’t as good as the Officer’s
Mess but it was tasty and plenty of it. The same nurse came and
walked Curtis again, but this time it wasn’t as hard for him as the
first time. He was gaining strength.
That afternoon
Curtis asked me a couple of pointed question. I didn’t know quite
how to answer, but I did my best. A couple of times I heard some
helpful hints in my mind being sent from other sources. I
figured, if I was to remain a ‘man-colt’ for a while longer, I needed
all the help I could get.
“Do spirits of
the departed come to you often, Casey?” he asked with reserve.
“Not often, Sir,
but when my little brother taught me how to touch others and receive
things, he warned me about restless spirits he had to deal with who
would try to speak with him. They frightened him sometimes
and almost drove him nuts before he learned to lock ‘em
out. My other brother taught me early on how to block anyone if I
didn’t want ‘em in my head. I learned to block both of ‘em out of
my head if’n I didn’t want ‘em listening or know’n something. I
can tell when my little brother’s sending out feelers. Likewise, I can
block spirits who wanna’ bother me. Some I don’t because they
need help and my little brother taught me to help those I could.
I blocked Griz
the first time I met him, and he never had anyone lock him out
before. We became good friends that weekend. I put him in
touch with my little brother. Griz checks in with me ever’ now
and then, or I reach out to him if’n I got something I need to talk
over with him. We talk often. He’s a good and wise
man. He’s helped me a lot.”
“You have other
brothers, Son?”
“Not really,
Sir,— they’re old high school buddies. The three of us sort of
bonded. We love each other, and I think on ‘em as my brothers.”
“Understandable.
Then, they are, indeed, yore’ brothers, Son. Don’t never forgit
that.” allowed my granddad. “Can you read people’s minds,
Son?”
“I can, but I
don’t. To be honest, I ain’t never tried. I reckon I got me
enough problems try’n to keep the mess in my own head sorted out.
Trying to listen to the mess in someone else’s head don’t sound too
appealing to me. ‘Sides, I’d probably be like a bull in a China
shop if’n I’s to try to tap someone’s mind without their
permission. I might trip over some’um valuable and break
it. Don’t want that on my conscience.
It’s sort a’
like T.V. If you think there ain’t nothing good on Television,
you think it’s a wasteland, then don’t turn it on. If’n you do,
it floods into your mind and invades it with all sorts of junk you
never wanted or needed to know about. I don’t wanna’ know what’s
going on in most folks minds. I figure if they want me to know
something,— they’ll tell me. I only communicate with those who
already know how to send and receive. Even then, there’s an
etiquette. You don’t jes’ eavesdrop on somebody,— you touch them
to let them know you’d like ta’ communicate with them. It’s sort
a’ like knock’n on the door to their mind.
My daddy raised
me to be a cowboy, Mr. Langtry, and he done taught me the importance of
a man’s personal privacy. It jes’ wouldn’t be right for me to go
around tapping into folk’s personal thoughts, especially since they
don’t know how to block someone from probing them. It’ud be like
steal’n from ‘em.”
Curtis didn’t
say anymore. He just nodded his head in agreement and lay there
musing to himself.
* * * * * * *
They kept Curtis
and Socks for five days and nights. They were wonderful to all of
us. Jim couldn’t have been nicer, and he became somewhat attached
to us. I thought he was going to shed tears when O.C. and I
hugged him goodbye. I gave him information how to contact me when
he got out of the Army and he promised faithfully he would. He
fully intended to take me up on my offer.
After five days
Socks was feeling her oats. She was in much better spirits and
ornery as ever. She didn’t want to leave. She joked with
me, she knew she had to leave eventually, but it was her way of
complimenting the folks for the care she was given. She was very
grateful.
Curtis was still
a bit sore, but he was up and around for two days before they released
him. They couldn’t get him to stay in bed. He even went
with us one evening to the Officer’s Mess for dinner. He was the
center of attention. He seemed to enjoy himself.
Bubba and Gip
drove down to pick us up. Bubba was pulling a double horse
trailer behind his truck for Socks. Little Gip, Waddie Buck,
Vince, and Seth were still at the Lazy 8. While their dads
thought it was a great experience for the boys, you could tell, they
missed them terribly.
It was a long
drive back to the community where Bubba and O.C.’s ranches were.
I could tell it was tiring for Curtis, but he didn’t complain. He
was so damn glad to be out of the hospital. I was concerned for
Socks; however, every time I checked in on her she said she was doing
fine. I asked Bubba to stop only once so she could answer
nature’s call. The other men were used to me communicating with
the ponies; however, Curtis was still a bit awed. I think Socks
made the trip better than my grandsire did.
O.C. and I
discussed arrangements the night before we left the Army base. We
decided I’d stay with Bubba and go back with Gip to Chapel Creek and
hitch a ride back to the Lazy 8 Sunday evening. We thought it
would give O.C. time to be alone with his dad and talk with him about
some things. He wanted to tell Curtis about his experience with
Seth Quee. At first I didn’t think it would be such a good idea;
however, after thinking about it, I changed my mind. I knew O.C.
wouldn’t give me away to Curtis about being his grandson, and if there
was to be a confrontation between the spirit of Seth Quee and his dad,
perhaps O.C. recounting his experience might make Curtis more receptive
and easier for him.
We got Socks
settled in and Bubba, Gip and I took off for Bubba’s ranch. I
think Curtis was a little disappointed I wasn’t staying with O.C., but
he bid me a fond goodbye. Gip and I were going to be there three
days and return to Chapel Creek Saturday afternoon so he could go to
church with his family on Sunday morning. I’d have one day to
rest and then return to the Lazy 8.
O.C. laughed at
me and told he wished he could be a fly on the wall when Bubba and Gip
decided to sandwich me in between them. I just laughed it off and
told him I had little idea the men were that bold with each
other. O.C. laughed at me like he knew better. Boy, was I
wrong. That’s exactly what happened. I spent the night
between those two big men for two nights and loved every minute of
it. It was exactly what I needed. It took my mind away from
the anxiety of what just happened to us less than a week ago, and the
further angst about the future with my granddad and O.C. I
couldn’t have wished for two more caring men to talk with about these
things. They were generous with their time to listen. They
were generous with their advice, but best of all, they were generous
with their love.
* * * * * * *
Gip and I said
our goodbyes. We stopped by O.C.’s place so I could say goodbye
to Curtis and Socks. She seemed happy and I told her to reach out
to me anytime she felt like it for any reason. She was satisfied
I wouldn’t desert her. Gip and I had a good time on our drive
back to Chapel Creek. He drove the first half and I sucked him
off. I drove the last half and he sucked me off. I knew Cindy was
going to get it that night. Gip had two nights with his cowboy
buddies. He was primed and ready.
* * * * * * *
It was good to
get back to the double ‘R’ again. So much had happened, it seemed
like a much longer time than actually elapsed. Rocky was
concerned about me. He only got bits and pieces of what was going
on, so he was naturally worried. I assured him I was fine; my
grandsire and Socks would fully recover. He was happy after that,
but he told me missed me. How much longer did I plan to work for
the Lazy 8? I told him I didn’t know, but it wouldn’t be forever.
I went to church
with the sheriff and his family. I figured I owed the good Lord
some thanks everything came out all right with my granddad and one of
my favorite ponies. It seemed strange going to church without
little Gip and Waddie Buck with us. I missed my cowboy
brothers. I was looking forward to getting back to the Lazy 8.
That afternoon
Gip took me into town to meet the ranch truck. When we got there
every deputy on duty came out to greet me. They gave me a hug or
a pat on the back, and told me how proud they were of me. I was a
little bemused. I certainly didn’t expect it. Gip was
beaming down on me like a proud papa whose kid just made the winning
touchdown for the home team. I shuffled the toe of my boot in the
dust and did my, ‘awh, shucks, it t’weren’t nothing,’ routine and
blushed a couple of times.
We were all
standing around talking when the truck got there. Wade Mulligan
was driving and Sticker was riding shotgun. They jumped out of
the truck and rushed to hug me. Both were lavish with their
praise calling me a hero and such. I’d moved on in my mind.
A week ago could have been a month or a year. Maybe it was denial
on my part over what might have been; however, I had pretty much
forgotten about the incident, and was more concerned with the future
for my granddad and Socks’ progress. I was in touch with O.C. a
couple of times a day. I talked to Curtis almost twice a day. I
was checking in on Socks every day. She was happy and
comfortable. O.C. and Curtis were spoiling her rotten.
I even forgot
the men responsible were inside the jail awaiting arraignment. The
sheriff smiled wickedly at me and asked if I wanted to go in and say
‘hi’ to the boys? I told him I didn’t ever want to see them
again, if possible. They all laughed. Then I found out no
one else was meeting the truck that afternoon. None of the hands
had the weekend off and Wade and Sticker made the trip to Chapel Creek
for the sole purpose of picking me up. I was even more
embarrassed. I was really flattered, and it gave me a warm sense
of belonging.
I said my
goodbyes and thanks to all the men, and we started back to the Lazy
8. Sticker was driving, and I was sitting between him and
Wade. They caught me up on everything. They spent a
balls-out week finishing up processing the nearly four hundred head of
cattle. They got it all done by Friday and told the men, those
who wanted could leave, but those who wanted to stay on, could. I
guess not a one was ready to leave.
Sticker told me
Wade was going to let all the younger cowboys off next weekend and
start the “weekend off” rotation the following weekend. A couple
of men like little Gip, Waddie Buck, Jim and Justin Hayes would luck
out and have two weekends in a row off. I didn’t expect to have a
weekend off for two weeks and Wade confirmed it.
Although Wade
made a few changes, I would still have the same rotation as Brett,
Curt, little Gip, Waddie Buck, Vince, Bryce Cole and Seth Quee.
The second rotation would be Jim and Justin Hayes; Sam; Hawk; Preacher;
Jamie; Gabe and Wade. Until Curtis returned, Brett Morris would
be second in charge to Wade Mulligan. Sticker was going to hang
around for another week then fly back to California.
We arrived at
the ranch and all the cowboys, Will, and the folks who lived in the big
ranch house came to greet me. Once again there was much hugs,
pats on the back and words of praise for me and O.C. I was
embarrassed. Sticker told Will to break out the good steaks, we
were going to celebrate. We ate real good that night.
I walked out to
the remuda to say ‘hello’ to Big Red and Trixie. I took them a
couple of carrots. They were glad to see me back.
* * * * * * *
The days began
to slide into each other like oil on the surface of water. After
the roundup things began to settle down into a routine. There
ain’t a lot to do on the ranch after roundup but tend the cattle and
ride the range looking for sick, or injured cows. I got to know
Sticker a lot better and found him to be one of the most intelligent,
concerned and thoughtful men I’d ever met. I can’t deny I had
fantasies of inviting him to my bed; however, he never gave me the
slightest reason to think he might be interested. I think Sticker
was devoted to one man and there would simply be no other in his life.
One evening Will
told me he had a message from Sid. Sidney told Will, with my
permission, he could tell Sticker who the owner of “Hensly Agrocon” was
if he wanted to, but to be discrete, because it would be a dead
giveaway if it was to get back to Curtis. Besides, it might make
the other cowboys nervous knowing they had one of the owners looking
over their shoulder every minute. It would also cut into Wade and
Curtis’ authority. I told Will he could tell Sticker if he wanted
to. Somehow I knew old Will would have a great time playing with
Sticker’s curiosity.
“J’ever wonder
who the owner of “Hensly Agrocon” is?” Will tossed off to
Sticker. He was going to spend one more day riding with us and
then return to California the next day.
“All the
time. I think Sid tied to find out, but for all his contacts he
came up with zilch. We’ve talked about it several times and
wondered if they might try a hostile takeover of our company.
Wait a minute,— you know something, you old fart,— don’chew? I
know’d ju’ too many damn years. I know when you’s popping the
brush with me, old man. You’d never ask me a question about
some’um like that if’n you didn’t know some’um. Fess’ up!
What’du ya’ know?”
“Well,— ”
Will scratched his chin whiskers and mused to himself, “I don’t
see you’n my buddy Sid right likely have’n to worry none about no
hostile takeover.” he laughed.
“You old
coot! How long you know’d about it?” Sticker demanded.
“Oh, for
sometime now.” Will slapped his leg and laughed again at
Sticker’s curiosity. He really had him going. “Do you know
what an anagram is?” Will asked Sticker
“Sure, pod’na,—
I jes’ look dumb.” They shared another laugh. “You tell’n
me “Hensly Agrocon” is an anagram for some’um else?”
“It’s the name
of the man what owns the company.” Will winked and grinned
wickedly at Sticker.
“As many years
as we been friends, you gonna’ make me figure it out,— ain’t cha,’ you
old reprobate?”
“Teach ya’ to
have a little more respect for yore’ elders.” Will shot back
laughing his ass off. Sticker couldn’t help himself, he fell out
laughing with his old friend.
Sticker sat down
with a pen and paper at one of the picnic tables and began to rearrange
the letters of “Hensly Agrocon.” It took him about thirty minutes
to figure it out. You could’ve heard the ‘whoop’ he made all the
way to Chapel Creek. He slowly ambled over to Will with a grin as
wide as Texas.
“You gotta’ be
shit’n me, old man! This is some kind a’ trick you and ole Sid
done cooked up to get me,— ain’t it?” he laughed.
“Hell, you been
accusing me’n poor Sid a’ that for years.” Will couldn’t stop
laughing.
“Our boy
Casey?” he asked Will with amazement.
“E’ aup,— him
and his brothers done put one over on you two big time
tie-coons.” Will was really enjoying himself. He loved to
get Sticker.
Sticker didn’t
say anything to me that night, but Will laughed when he told me how he
told him. Sticker would look at me, grin real big, then shake his
head. He made me laugh every time.
The next day I
was out brush popping looking for a new born calf. We knew the
mother was due any day, but they usually went away from the herd to
have their baby. I wanted to find her to see if she had her calf
or might be in some distress. I finally found her and her new
baby. She and the calf looked fine. I looked up and saw
Sticker riding toward me with the same big grin on his face. He
came closer to look at the heifer and her baby.
“You’re make’n a
fine cowboy, Casey.” He commented on me finding the mother and
her calf.
“Thanks, Mr.
Wiggins.” I grinned and winked at him. He damn near fell
off his pony laughing.
“Remember the
talk we had the other day when I told ju’ you, you boys could sometimes
do things that was beyond reason?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Wouldn’t you
say what I discovered last night was one a’ them things?” he
laughed.
“We didn’t think
on it that a’ ways, Sticker. We weren’t try’n to pull the wool
over nobody’s eyes. Logan jes’ decided it might be best if we
played it cool, then once you and Sid saw “Hensly Agrocon” didn’t pose
no threat, we could tell you.”
“Well, I don’t
know about Sid, but I couldn’t be prouder of you boys. What made
you do it?”
“Me’n my
brothers sat down one night and talked about it. We was afraid if
the stock was bought up by a lot of folks they might unite and cause
problems in the future. As it is, with us controlling all the
stock we’re happy to sit back and enjoy the ride. All the profits
‘Hensly Agrocon’ has made so far is setting in a bank waiting for more
development on the ranch or some other project we decide on.
‘Sides, how many men you know own a company like the Lazy 8 and git to
play cowboy at the same time?”
I had Sticker
laughing his ass off.
“How many folks
know about it?” he asked.
“Waddie
Claymore, the sheriff, and Bubba is the only men I told. O.C.
don’t know. Hell, my own daddy don’t know. I tried to tell
him I was gonna’ buy some stock in a big ranch. I asked him if’n
he wanted me to invest any of his money in the venture, but he didn’t
seem to be interested. I don’t think dad knows jes’ how
much money I got.”
Sticker just
shook his head in wonder and amazement.
“Well, the men
you told won’t tell nobody. Will won’t say a word. So I’d
say your secret’s safe for now. I think some of the men are
beginning to wonder about me jes’ being a rancher from another
county. Maybe it’s a good thing we have a company man working
here.” he smiled. Then, he continued,
“You plan on
tell’n yore’ granddad?”
“I may, but I
don’t think I will less’n there’s some reason. I might tell O.C.
because I love him and wouldn’t want to keep something that important
from him. After all, he is my uncle.”
Sticker looked
at me funny. Before he could ask, I told Sticker about Tom Harris
coming to me and telling me to tell O.C. who his real father was.
I told him Curtis was O.C.’s biological father. I thought Sticker
was going to fall off his pony. Obviously, Will hadn’t told
him. I knew Sticker wouldn’t tell nobody.
“Lord
agumpshun!” he declared, “Only one more to add to the books
for you boys and your ‘beyond reason’ escapades.”
“So Vince has a
half-brother he never know’d about.”
“Yes, Sir.
That’s why all this with my granddad is so important to me. I
love O.C. Harris with all my heart. I wanna’ share that joy of
having another relative with my dad. Is that so unreasonable, Mr.
Wiggins?”
“No, Casey, h’it
ain’t; however, you’re gonna’ have a hard row to hoe with yore’ dad
when it comes to yore’ granddad. That’s why I asked the other day
when Curtis was in the hospital if’n you wanted me and Sid to talk with
yore’ dad. I thought maybe it might loosen him up a bit.”
“My daddy ain’t
a dumb man, Sticker. Don’t chu’ think he has some idea what I’m
doing back here in Texas?”
“H’it’s hard to
say, Casey. That’s a taboo area with him. He jes’ won’t
talk about it. If’n anyone was to git him to talk about it,— h’it
would be yore’ little brother. Them two’s so tight you couldn’t
pry ‘em apart with a tractor pull. Logan worships yore’
dad. I ain’t never seen that kid so dedicated and faithful to
anyone or anything in my life. In return, yore’ daddy keeps that
boy in line like Sid and I never could.
Sid and I have
no doubt,— because of yore’ dad, that boy’s gonna’ make it though med
school and become a fine doctor. Vince sits him down and goes
over his courses he’s gonna’ take, how much time he’s gonna’ have to
spend studying outside class, and how much time he’s gonna’ allot for
free time for himself. Vince wants to make sure Logan don’t burn
himself out like he usually does on a subject.
Logan always
wants to bite off more’n he can chew and run with it. With his brains,
most of the time, he can git away with it. Vince keeps him reigned in
tight and won’t let him go off half-cocked. Vince is good for Logan and
Logan’s good for Vince. He’d never think on talk’n back to your
dad. Vince Longhorn says jump, and Logan asks how high?”
Sticker laughed. “You think I
should talk with my little brother?”
“Cain’t do no
harm. You two’s always had a tight bond.”
I was trying to
move the heifer and her calf back to the herd but the calf was too
young. It could barely walk. Sticker got down from his
pony, picked the calf up, draped it over his saddle and we rode
toward the herd. The calf would call to his momma, and she was
following right along complaining the whole time the big man-stallion
calf-napped her baby. On the way back to the herd a thought
popped into my head from another source,
<< There’s
one other man you might call on for help. >>
I knew
immediately who the deep voice was talking about.
<< You
really think so, Griz? >> I asked the big man.
<< Shore,
he’d do anything for you boys. All you gotta’ do is git him away
from your home and out to the ranch for a spell. Sticker can
arrange that for you. Talk to him about it. >>
<< Thanks,
big man, I will. H’it’s good to hear from you again. I
don’t wanna’ bother you too much. >>
<< You
never bother me, little brother. Hear’d tell you had some
problems on the ranch. Hear’d you was a hero. Ever’ thing
okay, now? >>
<< Yeah,
ever’ thing’s back to normal. I’ll have some free time Sunday.
I’ll knock on yore’ door and tell you all about it. >>
<< I’d
like that, Casey. Take care and you can knock on my door any
time,— ya’ hear?” >>
<< Thanks,
Griz. Love you. >>
<< Love
you, too, cowboy. >> and he was gone from my head.
I looked over at
Sticker.
“Do you think
you could do me a favor, Sticker?”
“Name it,
cowboy, and h’it’s yours.”
“Could you make
some kind of arrangements for Cousin Rance to spend a little time on
the ranch with us.”
Sticker looked
at me, smiled, and shook is head.
“Shore,— I’ll do
it soon’s I git back. He wanted to come in the worst way when he
heard about Curtis getting shot, but I told him h’it might not be such
a great idea. Sure,— sounds like a good idea to me. H’it
might be a good vacation for him to git away from it all for a week or
so and come cowboy. Ramrod’n the stock company day in and day
out, always on the go is start’n to affect his health. His second
can run the stock company for a while. I’m think’n on giving
Rance a position managing a couple of my companies. Sid taught me
if’n you got a good employee you take care of him. In a way, it’s
jes’ like you done with Socks. She’s a fine pony, she’s been good
to you and Curtis, so you wanna’ take care of her.”
“You mean he
knows about my granddad working for the Lazy 8?”
“Yeah, he has
for years, but he ain’t come around because of his devotion to you and
yore’ daddy. He’s thrilled you came back to find Curtis.”
“He told me in
Tucson at the Rodeo he knew what I was up to, but he wouldn’t say
nothing to my dad.”
“You think’n on
git’n him to talk with yore’ daddy?”
“Yeah, Griz jes’
suggested him to me. H’it makes sense to me.”
“You hear from
Griz often, Son?”
“Ever’ now and
then. He comes to me most times when he thinks I need a little
nudge in the right direction.”
“You know,— he
jes’ may have a good idea, there. I never thought about Rance,
but come to think on it,— he probably would be one of the only other
men, besides Logan, who could git through to Vince. I’ll see to
it he gits out here.”
“Thanks,
Sticker. Tell me some’um, Mr. Wiggins,— how’d ju’ git the name
‘Sticker’?”
“You know,
Casey, as unusual as my name is, ain’t but a few men ever asked me
about it. H’it ain’t no secret with me. My daddy died in
Vietnam before I was born and my momma die in child birth having
me. I didn’t have no relatives but my grandparents on my dad’s
side. They took me into their home and raised me from a baby, but
they didn’t gimme’ no name. My granddaddy was a half blood Apache
Indian. He didn’t see no need in give’n me no name until I was
old enough to have a say in it. They jes’ called me ‘boy’ until I
was about school age. I guess they figured they better gimme’ a
name so’s they could git me into school.
Ever’ summer,—
the first of June,— I’d kick my boots off and go barefoot the rest of
the summer. The part of Texas I come from had them enormous bull
head stickers what hurt like hell when ya’ gits one in yore’
foot. At first my feet were real tender. I’d git me two or
three of them som’bitches in my feet per day. As the summer went
by my feet got tougher ‘til they was like shoe leather.
I’d be playing a
game with the other kids, running and chasing one of ‘em, and I’d
git one a’ them damn things in my foot. By that time, the bottom
of my feet were so tough I wouldn’t even feel it. The sticker
wouldn’t hurt me or nothing. I didn’t wanna’ stop playing long
enough to pull it out, so I’d jes’ rub my foot in the dirt real hard
until it was forced out and be on my way. Most times they’d jes’
break off in my skin.
At the end of
the summer my granddaddy would take his penknife and a pair of my
grandma’s tweezers and remove about fifteen to twenty from each
foot. The end of the summer before they was to enroll me in
school, my granddad declared my feet was nothing but one giant
sticker. My grandma started calling me ‘Sticker’ and it
stuck. From then on, I was Sticker Wiggins. I always kind a’
liked the name. It sort a’ sets me apart from other men.
Ain’t never run into another man what’s named ‘Sticker.’
“That’s a great
story, Sticker,— thanks for sharing it with me.”
“I expect to be
hear’n some great stories from you one day. You already got a
passel of ‘em under yore’ belt. Dwayne, Logan and you could write
a book about chore’ adventures.”
* * * * * * *
The next morning
Sticker left to go back to California. I sent him off with many
messages for family and friends. We said our goodbye, except this
time he hugged me and told me he loved me. I assured him I loved
him, too.
I worked that
weekend with a skeleton crew. The rest of the cowboys including
Wade Mulligan went into Chapel Creek for a much needed weekend
off. Brett Morris was in charge, but you wouldn’t know it.
Brett was a laid back man who didn’t see a need to do a lot of
bossing. He relied on the cowboys working with him to do their
job and everyone did.
The next week
flew by, and I was looking forward to my weekend off. I sent some
dirty clothes home to Chapel Creek with little Gip the previous weekend
and asked him to beg our beautiful ma to wash them for me. I gave
little Gip money to buy Cindy some pretty flowers for her before they
went out to the ranch. Cindy send me a note in my clean laundry
thanking me for the flowers, telling me how proud of me she was, and
wickedly added, she was hoping me and the sheriff could have another
one of our father/son homecoming chats soon. She drew a little
‘happy face’ after that comment. I laughed my ass off.
I’d been in
touch with O.C. and Curtis everyday for that two weeks. I asked
my granddad if he was feeling up to paying me a visit in Chapel
Creek. He told me he and Socks had been taking long walks every
day, and he was feeling better than he had in years. He would be
happy to come spend the weekend with me in my trailer.
Friday rolled
around, and we knocked off a little early at the ranch. It had
been a warm day; however, storm clouds were gathering in the
distance. It looked like a ‘blue Northern’ was moving in.
You could see the front coming from the North. The dark blue
clouds seemed like they were boiling as they slowly moved toward
us. The temperature started dropping dramatically. We went
from shirt sleeves to wearing our jackets in a matter of about thirty
minutes. Everyone who was going into town was ready by noon.
Will gave us
each a bag with a sandwich, a small plastic container of potato salad,
a spork, a napkin and a can of soda for our lunch to enjoy on the
way. We arrived earlier than usual and Gip sent the rest of the
men on out to his ranch. He told them we’d be along a bit
later. He didn’t bother to give any explanation. They all
grinned, but no one said anything. Hell, they were all cowboys,
they knew what was going on.
I could always
count on the sheriff throwing another grand opening for me when I came
home, but I greatly appreciated it. Gip’s fuckings were that bit
of down home sensibility that would start my weekends off with a
bang. I certainly didn’t mind, I loved Gip and I loved the big
man’s brand of fucking. I thought about the old days of the West
when most cowboys wanted to stay as far away from the law as
possible. Things sure have changed. This cowboy couldn’t
get close enough to the sheriff. I fought the law, and the law
won? Bet your sweet ass he did! When the sheriff was good, he was
very good, but when he was bad,— he was unbelievably good.
While we got in
a good hot fuck, we didn’t take too long because Gip expected Bubba,
O.C. and Curtis at any time. Vince and Seth rode in with us to
Chapel Creek from the ranch to meet their dad at Gip’s ranch.
They were bringing Curtis to spend the weekend with me, then they would
pick him up on Sunday when they brought the boys back into town.
Gip and I were in great spirits as we drove the short distance out to
his ranch. Bubba’s truck was just pulling in ahead of us as we
drove down the unpaved, gravel road.
There was much
handshakes, hugs, slaps on the back, and kisses. I was
happy to see them again. Curtis looked great. If he didn’t
walk with a slight limp you wouldn’t know he was near death three weeks
ago. He really had come a long way. Bubba, his boys and
O.C. were going to stay for supper, then head on back to their ranches.
* * * * * * *
I took my
granddad’s bag and led him to the double ‘R.’ Curtis seemed
different somehow. While he appeared to be coming along well and
healing physically there was a new glow about him that made him even
more appealing to me. Not having seen him in a while, I’d
forgotten just how handsome an older cowboy he was. From the wet
spot at his crotch, I’d say he was pert-damn happy to see me, too.
Gip told me on
the way to the ranch he went into my coach and opened the windows to
let it air out. I always left the double ‘R’ clean when I left so
I wouldn’t come home to a dirty living space. I think my granddad
was impressed with it. I took his bag to the bedroom and told him
to make himself comfortable. It was the last weekend of October
and the temperature dropped thirty degrees since we left the
ranch. It was getting colder by the minute and you could feel the
electricity in the air. It was going to be one hell of a
storm. By that time, all the men had on their heavy fleece lined
jackets. I went through the coach and closed all the windows and
turned on the wall heater in the bedroom.
I returned to
the living area and turned on the small oven in the kitchen for extra
warmth. I offered my granddad a drink of Comfort and to my
surprise he accepted. I poured us both a small glass. We
were standing in the kitchen area. After we took a sip he sat his
glass on the counter, took mine from my hand and sat it next to
his. He put his arms around me and pulled me close to him in an
embrace.
He didn’t say
anything for a while. There was a long silence between
us. He brushed his bushy mustache against my neck and
kissed me gently on my cheek. I could feel the warmth of his lips
against my cold skin. I greedily found his mouth and we
kissed. It was a kiss of gratitude and great love from him.
I felt him pouring into me all the things he wanted to say, but
couldn’t find the words. There were no words for the feeling my
granddad was transferring to me. I kissed him back with equal
verve, transferring to him my relief and admiration for him.
“I’ve been
want’n to do that for sometime now, Son.”
“I’ve wanted to
hold you close to me, too, Dad.” I felt a shiver run up his back
when he heard me call him ‘dad.’ “I know it probably ain’t right
for a cowboy to have feelings for his boss, but I cain’t help it,
Sir. I think I’ve loved you from the first time I laid eyes on
you.”
“I think we done
formed us a closer relationship than jes’ cowboy and straw boss,
Son. You done saved my life, cowboy. I’ve watched you ever’
minute you come to work for me, and I ain’t been able to find no fault
with you or yore’ work. You seem to love and be loved by almost
everyone you meet, Casey. I ain’t run across me no man or woman
what’s got anything bad to say about chew. You certainly won my
heart the Fourth of July. Now, you and O.C. done went and saved
my life. I don’t think you should worry none about love’n yore’
boss, especially if yore’ boss feels the same about chu.’” he
smiled. We talked for a
while about what happened and what was going on at the ranch. We
talked about the Lazy 8 and when he was planning on coming back.
He hoped to come back by the end of October but that was only a day
away. The next day would be Halloween. It had been almost a
full month since the shooting, but he was still walking with a slight
limp. Curtis allowed, if the weather was good tomorrow he was
going to try to mount up and see if he could ride a bit. Since
the wound was to his right hip, he could still use his left leg for the
stirrup. The weather looked like he wouldn’t get the chance.
I knew Gip
wouldn’t try to rodeo that afternoon. It was just too damn cold,
and a cold wind out of the North was blowing pretty hard. The
full force of the storm hadn’t hit yet, but it was only a matter of
time. On the way out to the ranch Gip told me the forecast was
for rain, possibly sleet and hail for the weekend. The skies were
dark and ominous looking. In the distance you could see
lightening bolts shoot from the clouds down to the Earth. Then,
there would be a delay in the sound of the thunder due to the distance
between us and the encroaching storm.
The double ‘R’
was warming up nicely. I was convinced my granddad and I would be
warm and comfortable. It was getting late. Gip called from
the big house to tell us supper would be ready in a few minutes.
Curtis and I walked back to the big ranch house and I locked my arm in
his to pull us together against the chill. He seemed to
appreciate little things like that. We got to the back door,
wiped our boots on the scraper by the steps, wiped them on the dirt
catchers on the porch and went inside. Cindy and her girls
decorated the house for Halloween and it looked like something out of
Harry Potter. It was bright, colorful, fun and whimsical.
We all joined
hands around the table and Gip said grace. We sat down to eat and
Cindy and her girls had prepared another wonderful meal. It was
such a treat to get to sit at a real table and not a cold picnic bench
huddling close to the man next to you for warmth from the cold
mornings. Winter can be a nasty time on the ranch from the cold,
and wet weather. It makes a man wonder why he ever considered
becoming a cowboy. That’s when you remember the good times and
the times on the range when you swear to yourself you’d rather be doing
this than anything else in the world.
Talk was lively
around the table and everyone had a good time. After dinner, I
was going to help with the dishes, but Cindy wouldn’t let me. She
told me to see to my guest. Bubba, his boys and O.C. said their
goodbyes and left for their ranches. Curtis and I made the cold
walk back to the double ‘R.’
The double ‘R’
was nice and warm, and we took our jackets off. I made him and me
a hot toddy with tea, lemon juice, sugar and a shot of Comfort to warm
us up. It hit the spot. It was hot, sweet, tart and
good. Curtis seemed to really enjoy his. I was sitting
close to him on the couch, and he had his arm around me. We
talked for a while longer.
“You and O.C.
have a strong bond between you. I was worried he might git upset
with me coming to stay the weekend with you, but he encouraged me.”
“Ain’t no
denying, O.C. and I love each other very much, Dad. We understand
the love we have between us. We’ve bonded as brothers, Dad, like
I’ve bonded with Bubba and his boys. Waddie Claymore taught me we
can love many people, but every love will be different. One won’t
be no better’n another, they’ll jes’ be different. I love my
brothers back home. I love the sheriff and his family. I
love Bubba and his boys, and I love O.C. I love Master
Waddie a little differently than the others, but I think you can
understand what I’m talking about.” I smiled at him and he
nodded, “ But, most of all, I love my dad at home.”
“O.C. shared
with me his experience with you and my youngest boy, Seth Quee.
He was afraid to tell me about it. He wasn’t sure how I’d
react. I couldn’t have been happier for him, but it was so
emotional for O.C. he almost couldn’t tell me for the tears. He
got me to crying, too. The way he told me was like I was here
with you men experiencing it. Do you think there’s a chance,— ?”
Curtis’ voice
trailed off, but I knew what he was afraid to ask.
“Do you think
you could handle it, Dad?”
“I’ve asked
myself the same question; however, if there’s a slim chance I could set
things right with my boy, I’d jump at the chance. O.C. told me
Seth was caught between this plane of existence and the next. Is
that true, Son?”
“That’s what he
told me and O.C. He’s been watching over O.C. and you all these
years. You just didn’t know it. He’s appeared several times
to Bubba and his boys. He appeared a couple of times to O.C., but
he wasn’t strong enough to speak to him. I asked him if’n he’d
ever tried to appear to you and he told me ‘no’ he would be too
embarrassed after what he done to you.”
“You know about
that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I don’t hate
him for that, nor do I condemn him anymore for it. I forgave him
a long time ago. If’n it weren’t for him and his actions I may
never have come to my senses and cast off the bonds of the prison I
created for myself. If’n it weren’t for my boy doing what he done, I
never would’ve began to question my own motivations and natural
urges. You see, Son,— I loved a man in my youth,— O.C.’s dad, Tom
Harris.
I wanted to
spend my life with him, but as we matured we decided we wanted
families. O.C. told me you already know about all that, but my
point is, because of that incident, I started questioning my life and
direction of my soul. It was then the devil within me took hold
and made me turn against ever’ damn thing I loved. I did some
awful things I ain’t proud of, Son; however, because of my boys and
their deaths, I went out and tried to myself.
Come to find
out,— h’it’s an ongoing process. You never find all the answers,
but if’n a man’s foolish enough to think he has, and feels like he
ain’t gotta’ ask no more questions,— he stops growing and becomes
stagnated. He becomes like I was all them years ago. H’it
ain’t only unhealthy,— h’it’s downright despicable.
“Was that when
you decided to ride with Master Waddie’s family, Sir?”
“Yes, Son, it
was. It’s a fine family, the family clan Mc Innis. It was
good to see some of the men I rode with over the Fourth of July
holiday. The head of the family was a huge man who had one of the
biggest hearts I ever encountered. I didn’t tell him much about
me. He knew I knew what was going on in the group, but no one
ever asked my preferences. They jes’ told me I could ride with
‘em as long as I observed their simple rules. Their rules was
basically the same as the cowboy way.
I never found a
group of folks who loved each other, supported one another, and stuck
together through the good times and bad like them men. They had
something I didn’t have, something what was missing inside me I wanted
for myself, and I was determined to find out what it was. After
riding with them for several months, it finally dawned on me one night,
they was living the life the other side only preached about, yet many
were also living happily within male/male relationships what was
totally unacceptable to most organized religious beliefs.
In fact, they
had a satisfaction and happiness with life I never found on the other
side. I asked myself, what was wrong with this picture?
Most folks in them churches was miserable, bigoted, intolerant,
backbiting hypocrites. They only pretended to love each other on
the surface, all the while they was plotting and scheming their
neighbor’s downfall.
I found myself
living, loving and sharing openly with Waddie Claymore’s family.
I made up my mind, I would never go back to a life of rigid
fundamentalism. Life is filled with too many exceptions to have a
rigid set of rules what don’t take them exceptions into
consideration. If God is perfect, then his creation must be
perfect. He wouldn’t create man to have certain urges if’n he
didn’t want him to have ‘em, and to suggest a devil put them there, or
a man can change his urges, is patently ridiculous. The only
devils on this here Earth, dwells within the hearts of evil men.
The clan didn’t
make a big to-do about anyone’s preferences. If two men bonded,—
that was okay with them. If a man and a woman wanted to ride with
them,— as long as they obeyed their rules, and allowed everyone else to
do the same,— they were welcome. Basically, the clan lived by the
‘Golden Rule.’ H’it’s the same with the cowboy way. It’s
some’um more natural I could relate to. I’d lived the ideals of
the cowboy way long before I became corrupted by man-made, store bought
religion.
If them damned
folks don’t understand or likes somethin,’ they jes’ find some
old, obscure scripture to support their hatred. Of course, they’s
hundreds of worse scriptures they conveniently overlook or ignore
completely. It says in the book of Leviticus it’s all right for a
man to sell his daughters into slavery. What hypocrisy; what
stupidity. Do you really think God would approve of a man selling
his daughter into slavery? They’s an old cowboy saying, ‘The
Devil can play jes’ as pretty tune using the bible fer his fiddle, as a
holy man can.’
I began to
experiment sexually with a couple of men occasionally on a passive
basis. I would let a man service me, but I wouldn’t offer him any
love or comfort for his gift. I was still so entrenched and
uptight from being brainwashed by fundamentalism. It took me a
good while to loosen up, until one afternoon I met a young cowboy at a
ranch in Tuscon who recently returned from Vietnam where he had almost
half his face blown off.
He was horrible
to look at when you first met him. He called himself Mutt because
of his looks, but he was far from being a mutt. He was very shy
and quiet, but I noticed he was popular and dearly loved by all his
cowboy brothers. It took me a while, but I befriended the
man. When you got to know him, he was one of the sweetest,
kindest, most thoughtful men I ever met, and the immediate horror of
his looks seemed to become insignificant to the beauty of the man’s
inner character. He also jes’ happened to be one of the finest
ropers I ever met.
The more I got
to know him, the less I noticed his imperfection. My heart went
out to him, and for the first time in my miserable life, since Tom
Harris, I gave of myself to another man. Unfortunately, he was
head over heels in love and all wrapped up in a horrible outlaw
biker. The man would abuse him terribly, reject him, then snap
his fingers and the boy would be right back where he was.
I rescued him
several times from that monster, and the last time, upon the threat of
killing his Master, I forced him to ride with me and git away from the
son of a bitch. It was my thought, if I could show him love it
would bring him to his senses. I took him to a ranch in New
Mexico that belonged to a buddy of mine I was in Korea with. By
some strange coincidence, the family was the family of Mutt’s bonded
mate who was killed right in front of him in Nam. We worked on
the ranch for the family just for a place to stay. They had a
bunkhouse and we bought all our own food. I managed to keep him
there with me for three months until his was completely healed from the
beating his Master gave him.
I fell deeply in
love with the boy during our time together. I tried my best to
get him away from the other man. I begged the kid to ride with
me, to be my slave, and I promised him I would love and protect him
against that monster. If you call Waddie Claymore ‘Master,’ I
assumed you know about his lifestyle.” Curtis paused and smiled
at me.
“Yes, Sir,— I
became Master Waddie’s slave for a brief period. I was taken with
their lifestyle, too. I begged him to let me try it. I’m
not sorry I done it, Sir. Master Waddie will always own a part of
me.”
“That’s exactly
right, Son. A part of that boy still belongs to me and a part of
my heart will always be with him and belong to him. I wanted to
own that boy in the worst way. I’d about made up my mind I never
wanted to own anything more than what I needed for my basic creature
comforts again; however, I wanted to own this young man I fell in love
with in the worst way. I wanted him to be mine, I wanted him to
accept me as his Master.
At the end of
that summer left me and went back to the outlaw biker. It broke
my heart. I couldn’t ride with the family no more, because I
would overhear stories about how he was being treated, and it would
tear me up. I literally wanted to go and kill the son of a
bitch. It was at that time, I realized the power and influence
love can have on a man, not only in my case, but the boy’s case as
well. His love, even though it was misplaced, bound him to his
abusive Master tighter than any bond so cherished and protected by
fundamentalist religious fanatics.
I began to
think, what would happen if I killed the man to save the boy. I
would be killing the person he loved most in his life. Did I
really think he would see my reason for killing his passion and love me
after that? The answer was obvious. Even thought the man
had the power of life or death over him, he would hate me for taking
away his passion. I knew if I didn’t git away I was going to do
something crazy, something far worse than I ever did before.
Working as a cowboy again those three months reawakened something
within me. I was never more happy than I was during those three
months and it wasn’t only because of my developing love for the young
man. It was because I loved being nothing more than a simple
cowboy. I had forgotten who I was and what I needed to be.
I went to visit an old friend of mine, Will Shott, on the Lazy 8 and
asked him for a job. You know the rest.”
“That’s a
remarkable story, Dad. You’ve had some wide and varied
experiences in your life. My dad was in Nam, too. He had
both his legs blown off, but he does jes’ fine on them store bought
legs the Veteran’s Administration give him. He sits as fine a
horse as any cowboy. He done taught me to rope and ride. He
done taught me about the cowboy way.”
“He must be
really proud of you, Son.”
“I hope so,
Sir. I know he loves me very much, and I love him. I belong
to him, Dad.” I said quietly.
I didn’t
elaborate, I just let my words sink in. My granddad knew and
understood exactly everything those four words implied.
“Then what are
you doing here, Son? You should be home with yore’ Master where
you belong.”
“Maybe you can
understand,— I had to leave for a while. I’m young, and I wanted
to go out and see the world for myself. I begged him to come with
me, but it would’ve been too hard on him with his legs and all.
Besides, my dad is a wise man. He knew I had to go out into the
world by myself to find myself, much like you did on your bike.
When I decided to leave, I didn’t understand I had given myself to my
dad and he accepted me. I didn’t understand I belong to him.
I guess I really
didn’t understand about belonging to another human being until I met
Master Waddie and his family. Like you, I was taken with their
lifestyle and love for one another. Master Waddie helped me
understand I belong to my dad. I know one day I will go home to
him, but for right now, I have to be here. Griz, in Tucson helped
me understand God has need of me right now. He’s using me to set
some things straight what have been out of balance for a long time.”
Curtis looked at
me in awe like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Do you think
you’ve been sent to me, Son? To save my life?”
“I never know
what God might have in mind, but I’m sure that’s part of it, Sir.”
Curtis sat there
not knowing what question to ask next.
“Do you think
the synchronicity of us being here together, at this moment, is by
chance, Dad? Do you really think it was coincidence the family
you took the young man to was the family of his dead bonded
mate?” I prompted him.
“I don’t know,
but if’n what you say is true then all them years I looked for a
miracle within the piety of my rigid, religious beliefs was for
nought. I’ve long suspected I was looking for God in all the
wrong places. Now,— that I’ve gone back to living my life by the
cowboy way, perhaps God has finally decided to show himself to
me. I had a feeling when we met, you would have some powerful
influence on my life. I jes’ didn’t know how. I’d like to
believe we’re together because of some greater blessing.”
“Then believe
it, Dad. I assured you, my meeting O.C. and you was not a random
accident. I recently found out, meeting Master Waddie and his
family, weren’t by chance neither. There’s more, but everything
has to play out according to His plan. God can’t be rushed.”
“Has anyone told
you, you look like my youngest boy?”
“Bubba and O.C.
mentioned I resemble him a little, but I have a generic brand a’ cowboy
face. I probably resemble lots of ‘em out there. I’m
constantly being mistaken for somebody else.” I laughed.
“Y’ain’t got no
generic face. You’re a fine looking young man, and I’m honored
and proud to be here with you.”
We kissed again
as the wind blew stronger, and we could here cold sleet began to hit
the windows of my coach. My cell phone beeped.
“Casey.” I
announced.
“Casey,— it’s
Cindy. Z’everthing all right out there with you and Mr. Langtry?”
“Yes, ma’am, Ma
Claymore, we be jes’ fine. The wind’s a blowing pretty good, but
we’re warm and sitting here talk’n.”
“Well, we was
jes’ worried about cha’ll. You and Mr. Langtry are welcome to
come up to the house to stay.”
“We’ll be fine
here, Ma, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Ya’ll need
anything,— extra blankets,— ?”
“No, ma’am, that
big comforter you loaned me last time I’s home is fine, and I got
others stored under the bed in case we need one. We’ll be jes’
fine, Ma Claymore, but we shore’ ‘nuff ‘preciate ya’ll check’n on
us. Love ya,’ Ma.”
“You know we
love you, too, Casey. Ya’ll have a good evening, and we’ll see
ya’ll tomorrow morning for breakfast.”
“We’ll look
forward to it, Ma Claymore. Thanks for think’n ‘bout us.”
Cindy hung up.
“They’re damn
good folks, Son.” Curtis said to me.
“The best,
Dad. I love ‘em with all my heart.”
“And, they love
you, too. I can see the way Gip, his boys, his daughters and his
wife react to you. You’ve become a part of their family.”
“They make me
feel like a part of their family.”
“You’ve become a
part of me, Casey. I seriously think on you as my boy. It seems
so easy to think of you that way.” he said with feeling.
“I want to be a
part of you, Sir. That’s why I asked you in the hospital if’n
you’d consider me as yore’ boy. I know I have a dad and all, but
I jes’ need to feel a part of you. I cain’t fully explain it, but
h’it’s a feel’n I got.”
We kissed again,
and I excused myself to take a shower and clean myself. I fixed
us another toddy and handed him his. I asked him if he wanted to
watch T.V. or a video and he declined. He just wanted to sit and
think while I was in the shower. It didn’t take me long. I
hesitated before inserting my plug, but then I thought,— it had become
a part of me. It was a part of my commitment and bond between me
and my dad. Surely Curtis would know about such things from his
days as a biker. Then I remembered how big he was reported to be
and that thought cinched it in my mind. I inserted my plug.
I dried myself
thoroughly and left my towel in the bathroom. The double ‘R’ was
really warm by that time, and I walked back into the living area naked
as the day I was born. I thought my granddad was going to have a
heart attack. His face looked stunned, but slowly a smile began
to cross his handsome cowboy face.
“Damnation,
Son,— you be a fine look’n man. You make a good look’n cowboy,
but this,— .” He stood and opened his arms to me. We
embraced again and kissed. I could feel him growing strong in his
Wranglers. I wondered just how big he was. He felt enormous.
“Would my new
dad like to move to the bedroom? I’d love to hold you close to
me, Sir,— and make a little love.”
“Ain’t had me no
better invite in a long while, Son.”
“May I help you
off with yore’ boots, Sir?” I asked him.
“Sure,—
sometimes it hurts a little git’n my right one off, so a little help
would be appreciated.”
He sat back down
on the couch, I knelt before him, looked him in his eyes, he smiled and
nodded to me. I leaned over and lovingly kissed each of his
handsome, heavy duty, buckaroo boots. I felt his hand
descend. I took it, lovingly kissed his palm and placed the back
of it to my forehead.
“Rise, Son, and
show yore’ dad yore’ love.” he gave the ritual response.
Just like Master
Waddie, Curits knew all the right words and the way to say them.
He embraced me in a deep kiss, and I returned it with passion. I
helped him remove his boots and sat them aside. I pulled his
heavy socks off his feet. I could see my attentions were being
well received. His big, ole dick was straining to get out of his
Wranglers.
‘Lord,’ I
wondered to myself, ‘jes’ how large is that damn thing?’
I unsnapped his
handsome Western shirt and helped him off with it. I helped him
off with his undershirt, and for the first time, I got a good look at
his shoulder wound. It was still a dark purple color in a couple
of areas but it was healing nicely. I unbuttoned his Wranglers
for him, he stood and shoved them down, his dick flopped out into my
face and surprised the hell out of me. He wasn’t just big, he was
enormous. He was much bigger than me. He sat back on the
couch, and I removed his pants the rest of the way. He sat there
completely nude. I could see the wound to his hip and it, too,
was still dark purple.
“Do you think
your wounds will be a problem, Dad?” I asked him softly.
“I don’t think
so, Son. I’m certainly willing to try.”
I pulled him to
a standing position, and we kissed again. I took him by the hand
and led him to my bedroom. He saw my leather bedspread and
laughed.
“Ain’t seen me
one a’ them in a long time. It should be cold at first, but they
warm up quick enough with two hot bodies on ‘em.” he grinned at
me.
I got out the
comforter Ma Claymore gave me. With the heat in the coach it was
really all we needed. We lay together on my bed and I pulled the
soft, downy comforter over us. I put my arms around his tight,
muscular body and held him close.
“Don’t git much
better’n this, Dad.” I smiled at him.
“Ain’t been this
close to another man in years, Son.”
“J’ever think on
doing anything with O.C., Sir?”
“I have, but it
would have to be his decision. I would never ask him.”
“He would love
to share a bed with you, Dad; now, more’n ever. He’s jes’ afraid
you might reject him.”
“Dear God,— have
I grown so unapproachable? Do I still frighten folks who knew me
when,— ?”
“No,— no,
Dad. It ain’t that way a’ tall. O.C.’s a proud man, and
he’s jes’ always set you apart as some kind of hero. He looks up
to you and admires you.”
My granddad let
his hands roam over my body. He touched me like I was a fine
piece of silk cloth. He finally felt down to my rear and felt my
plug. It took him only a minute to figure out what it was.
He chuckled and stole a kiss from me.
“Ain’t see’d me
one of them damn things in a coon’s age, neither.” he laughed
again, “Who started ju’ wearing that,— Waddie Claymore?”
“Naw, Sir,— my
daddy.”
Curtis looked
surprised but impressed. I went on to tell him the story of my
plug, and he thought it was a wonderful tale. He thought my tail
was pert-damn nice, too. He started playing with my plug while he
was kissing me. It was driving me crazy. All I could think
of was getting his big dick inside me. I felt like I was about to
find out how my brother must have felt on his eighteenth birthday with
his giant. Curtis certainly wasn’t as big as Lamar, but he was
plenty big.
“Dad, if’n you
don’t stop playing with my plug, the show’s gonna’ be over before we
git to the newsreel.” I laughed. “I wanna’ feel you inside
me, Sir.”
“Ain’t chu’
worried I might hurt chu,’ Son?”
“If there’s a
God,— you jes’ might, Sir.” I teased.
My response took
Curtis by surprise. He whooped with laugher and rolled on his
back. He turned back to me to look me in my eyes.
“Ain’t laughed
like that in a long time, Son. Thanks for that. All right,
let’s us see what we can do. Let’s see if’n we kin git chu’
fucked.”
I handed him a
towel. He was no amateur when it came to a plug in a man’s
ass. I didn’t have to explain to him how to remove it. He
popped my plug out and just as quickly replaced it with about half his
fine, cowboy dick. I took a deep breath, gently grabbed hold of
his ass and pulled him the rest of the way into me. The gage on
my tank registered full;— full of aged, grade A, prime, cowboy
beef. Mighty fine feeling.
I guess
fucking’s like riding a pony. You may not ride for while, but
once you get back in the saddle, it comes back to you pert-damn
quick. So it was with my granddad. It was obvious I was not
the first man he’d ever fucked. With a dick like his, I wouldn’t
be surprised to find, in his earlier days, he had them lined up around
the block waiting with a number in their hand. There probably was
sign over his bedroom door: “Now Serving Number: 39."
For his size,
granddad was quite comfortable, and rode me like I was a fine
pony. Curtis was the Cadillac of fucks of my young life. He
was smooth, strong and shifted gears without the passenger even feeling
it. For a man who hadn’t done any kind of fucking for a while my
granddad gave me one hell of a fuck. His last stroke felt just as
good as his first.
Granddad wasn’t
much of a talker when it came to fucking. Like any good cowboy,
he put all his effort and concentration on the job at hand. He
had himself a clean, tight piece of young, cowboy butt and he wasn’t
about to waste a lot of time talking about it when he could be double
stroking my ass. He fucked me like he knew what I wanted, and how
I wanted to be fucked. It became clear to me, this wasn’t just a
fuck for him, he was fucking me to repay me for saving his life.
The fact that he would receive his own reward by doing so was secondary
to his need to satisfy the cowboy underneath him.
I clamped my
asshole down on his beautiful, raging man-stallion cock so hard he let
out a little yelp. He took a deep breath and in a deep voice
ordered me to come.
“You feel’n
that, Son? Yeah, you do. I kin tell it’s feel’n good to
ya.’ Yore’ new dad’s fucking you like you wanna’ be fucked,— the way a
young, frisky man-colt needs to be fucked. I may be getting
older, but I shore’ as hell know how to take care of and satisfy a
young cowboy’s hungry butt-hole. I feel yore’ little hole
pleasing my shaft, boy! That’s feel’n pert-damn good! Now,
Son! Shoot your load while yore’ daddy fucks you!”
“Oh, God!”
I yelled as I shot volley after volley between us. Granddad
didn’t slow down until he emptied all of himself into me. Then he
collapsed on top of me. He was right, the leather spread was hot
and wet with our collected sweat. He smelled so good I didn’t
want him to ever take his dick from my ass. I whispered
outrageous things that got a chuckle from him.
“Older,— my,
well fucked, ass!” I muttered quietly to him. “From now
own, I ain’t referring to you by any other name but ‘Ramrod.’
Ain’t experienced too many men in my young life, Dad, but that has to
be up there with the best of ‘em. Damn! Disneyland ain’t
got no rides that good. You can ride this pony anytime,
cowboy. Oh, yeah,— and before I forgit,— I love you, Dad.”
“You know I love
you, Casey. I couldn’t have asked for a better fuck.
Thanks, Son. I don’t know where our love will take us, but I’m
willing to make the trip if you are. I have a feeling we’ll share
each others’ lives for sometime to come.”
“We will, Dad,
we just exchanged a little bit of our souls with each other. My
brother’s black giant came up with that description. My little
brother and I feel the same way. When two men share what we just
done, a small part of our souls become conjoined forever.”
We lay hooked
together for sometime. I know Curtis didn’t want to withdraw, but
I think his hip started to bother him. I got a warm, damp
towel, cleaned us up and wiped off the bed. I asked him to
insert my plug for me, and he did without batting an eye. He
popped it back in as professionally as Master Waddie ever did.
Curtis was not a novice to inserting a plug into a man’s ass.
We lay back
down, and I pulled the comforter over us. I wasn’t about to get
under the sheets yet. I was hoping I could tempt him into round
two. We began to talk about things. It was so romantic,
laying in bed with my granddad. We could hear the wind howling,
the sleet and cold rain was making a tattering sound on the windows and
the side of the coach like a miniature Gatling gun. I snuggled
close to him for his warmth, and he enfolded me with his big arms and
body. I was content. I was happy. I could find no
fault with this man,— the man my father hated.
I was about to
tell him something when I noticed a small blue sprite forming in the
corner of the room.
End of Chapter
39 ~ Texas Longhorns Copyright 2005 ~
Waddie Greywolf All rights
reserved ~ Mail to:
waddiebear@yahoo.com