Seeing You (6 page)

She pulled back, patted my shoulder, again so reminiscent of our mother. “We should go back in before my girls think we’re eating the cake without them and come looking.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. We’ll just tell them we had to make it just chocolate enough for them.” I picked up the plate. “How’d you know Scott was gay, anyways? He tell you?” Kid didn’t seem like the type to just go blurting that out.

Erin blushed, her pale cheeks a fiery red. “Um.”

Now this looked like it might be interesting. The brother in me decided I couldn’t just let it go, even if the occupants of the dining room mutinied. I set the cake down. “Spill. Make it quick, though, before we’re discovered.”

She gave a nervous laugh. “Well, the other day I saw him reading in the back room while on break.”

I waited, but she looked like that was all she’d offer up. “Well, hot damn, Erin. Book the tickets for Washington. Somebody better tell those folks at the Department of Ed that it’s
reading
that makes you queer.” She glared at me. “So, what was he reading? The Gay Kama Sutra?”

She sighed and said, “No, nothing like that. The title,
‘The Good Thief’,
didn’t shriek it and the cover wasn’t that obvious either, although it did have two guys on it. I probably wouldn’t have given it another thought, but he blushed and stammered and raced back to the front. So I took a look.”

“And?”

“And it was…well, basically a romance. But between two guys. With, ya know, sex and everything.” Now she was beet red again.

“Sex and everything?” An odd thought struck me. “You read it.”

“Um.” She looked reluctant to answer, but then she smiled. “Okay. Yeah. I read it. When I realized what it was, I was really curious. I asked Scott if I could borrow it and when I started reading it, holy cow, I couldn’t put it down. It was hot and awesome, and I can’t wait for the author’s next release.” With that, she grabbed the cake off the counter and walked back toward the dining room, leaving me to ponder the fact that my sister was reading gay romance.

Deciding that thought needed reexamining later, I went back to the dining room to find Wade talking about the ranch, Scott hanging on his every word, and Erin and Mike trying to settle the fight between the girls over the cake.

I sat down, figuring I might as well see how chocolate the chocolate cake was after all that. I was just digging in when Molly stopped antagonizing her sister and said, “Uncle Dylan?”

“Yeah, Molly Dolly?” How cute, she had cake on her cheek.

“You and Uncle Wade are married now, right?” She waited expectantly for an answer.

Why was it that kids always zeroed in on exactly the wrong thing to say at the worst time? The table was dead silent, and I could feel everyone looking at me, feel Wade looking at me. I didn’t know how to answer, and shot a pleading look at Erin, but she was just watching me. I couldn’t believe she was seriously going to make me field this one.

“No, Molly, we’re not.” I was saved by having to say anything else when Dwayne, one of the new ranch hands, appeared in the doorway.

“I’m real sorry to interrupt, but can I talk to you a minute, Wade?” I was curious what this might be about, but with Mack visiting his daughter in Michigan ’til Wednesday it could be any number of things.

“Sure thing, Dwayne. We were just finishing up, and then I was going to give Scott here a tour of the ranch, but I’m sure Dylan can start it off and I’ll catch up. Let’s go to my office.”

As Wade stood to leave, Erin said, “Well, we should be going. I have to open up the shop tomorrow morning. Don’t feel like you have to go yet, though, Scott. I’m sure Dylan will be more than glad to give the tour one-on-one.” She smiled at me, the glint back in her eyes.

We all said our good-byes, the girls hugging me sweetly, and Erin taking an extra long time to hug Wade and whisper something in his ear. Whatever it was made him look at me, the oddest look on his face, then swing his gaze to Scott standing near the door, waiting to start his exciting tour of ranch life.

Finishing up the tour in the stables, I introduced Scott to Blitzen. He wasn’t really the cowboy type, but, to give him credit, he had listened and looked interested as I showed him around and he had a nice, gentle rub for Blitzen, who hung her head over the stall door.

“So, what do you think? Ready to quit school and join the rodeo?” I wondered where Wade was and why he didn’t catch up with us.

Scott laughed. “Um, no, not exactly. It’s really pretty out here, but the only thing I’d really want to get my hands on would be the cowboys.” He blushed, as if he hadn’t meant to say that. It was cute, I decided. He was cute. Cute and young, that was for sure.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

He turned toward me, propping his arm on the stall door, mirroring my position. Barely a foot separated us. “So. You come into town much?”

I’d kind of been expecting something like this. All the furtive looks at my ass out of the corner of his eye and the subsequent blushing as we walked around. I tried to think of the best way to let him down gently. Honesty was probably the best idea. “Nope, not really. Just for errands. No time or interest for anything else.” There. That was plain as day, and I could see Scott heard what I was saying by the disappointed look on his face.

“Hey, you done with the tour?” I turned to look at Wade, who was looking from me to Scott and back to me again.

“Yep. Showed Scott how glamorous ranching is, and I’m trying to talk him out of giving up school to become a ranch hand.” I wasn’t sure why I felt like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar, but I didn’t like it. “Everything okay with Dwayne?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Wade just continued to look at us. I could feel my muscles starting to tense.

“Um, this was really nice, but I should be going. Thanks for dinner and the tour. I had a very nice time.” Scott kept shooting uncertain looks between Wade and myself, probably picking up on the weird tension.

Seeing as Wade still wasn’t going to say anything, I glared at him and said to Scott, “You’re welcome. It was nice having you.”

We walked Scott to his car and it was only when Scott’s car was a tiny red dot on the road leading away from the ranch that Wade turned to me and said something. “Nice kid, huh?” He looked at me expectantly.

“Yeah, nice kid.” I wasn’t sure what he wanted from me. Erin’s words from earlier ran through my mind again, but I determinedly pushed them away.

“You gonna see him again?”

Huh. So that’s what this was about. Had Wade wanted to see this kid again? “Probably not. You?”

Wade’s eyebrows lifted. “I wasn’t the one looking all cozy with him a minute ago.”

I snorted my disbelief. “Cozy? Seriously?”

“Yeah, that’s what it looked like to me.”

“Well, then, I think you might need to have your eyesight checked.” Suddenly I felt weary of trying to figure everything out. I just wanted to sink into sleep for a week and forget Wade, and family dinners, and cute kids from town. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll see whatever you want to see, I bet.”

I turned and walked off toward the bunkhouse, not bothering to say good night, even when I heard Wade say behind me, “Yeah, I think I’m starting to. Night.”

Chapter Eleven

The first sketch was left on the dresser in my bedroom a week after the dinner with Erin and the family, rolled up with a rubber band around it. Just back from checking on cattle in the south meadow, I didn’t know what it was at first. I only realized it was from Wade when I uncurled it.

It was a charcoal sketch of Mack, left leg resting on the first step of the bunkhouse porch. He had a beer bottle dangling in one hand by his side, and his hat was off. Mack was laughing, looking much better than when I first returned to the ranch.

It was a good sketch, captured the feeling of camaraderie we felt sitting out on the porch in the cool summer evenings, showed that larger than life quality I’d always associated with Mack.

Feeling a bit puzzled, I wondered why Wade gave it to me, furtively left in my room like it was a secret gift. But I was glad he was sketching again.

I decided I’d go thank Wade in person, see if he’d give me a clue as to why he gave the drawing to me.

I found him eating a sandwich at the kitchen table in the main house, and I took a seat when he invited me to join him. Wade smiled at me. “You go down to the south meadow?”

“Yep, just got back. Should get ready to move cattle.”

“‘S what I figured.” Wade nodded his head and continued to eat.

I set the sketch down on the table, and his eyes flicked down to it then back up to meet mine. He didn’t say anything.

“Thank you, Wade. It’s nice. Mack probably would have liked it more than me.” I let the last word lilt up as if I had asked a question.

“Welcome. Yeah, he probably would have.” And that was it. He didn’t add anything else, just went back to his turkey on wheat.

“All right, then. Back to work. See you at dinner.” I got up to leave, and I caught the small smile playing around Wade’s mouth. It looked secretive.

Hmmm.

The second sketch was left in the same place, the same way, a week later. I was curious to see what this one would be, and I felt a thrill of excitement as I unrolled it.

Surprised, I studied it. It was a drawing of Erin and Mike and the girls, sitting around the dining room table at their house, probably drawn the other night after Wade and I went for dinner. Wade had managed to capture the animation in their faces, like a snapshot in time, a sweet remembrance of a family moment.

I was still puzzled and felt as though I was missing some vital piece of information, but I pushed the thought aside. It was a nice drawing of my family.

I wondered what Wade would say, so once again I sought him out to say thank you. I found him sitting out by the pond, shirtless, sweat streaming down the curve of his spine despite the brisk air, and my step faltered.

He must have heard me, though, because he turned his head and looked at me over his shoulder.

“Hey, Wade,” I said as I joined him on the grass by the edge of the pond.

“Hey, Dylan.” He tossed a pebble into the pond, disturbing the smooth surface of the green-brown water.

“I got the drawing you left today. It’s…special. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Did you give one to Erin?”

“Nope.” Another pebble was tossed. I waited.

Nothing. So, that was it. I sighed, oddly reluctant to push for more.

“Mack and the hands are heading into Big Timber tonight to blow their paychecks in their usual Friday night free-for-all. I was thinking about joining them. You wanna go?” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, absently plucking grass by his right knee. I could smell him, sweat and man and Wade with that hint of pine-scented soap, and I wondered what he’d do when we all went to town and he stayed behind.

He looked at me for a moment and then said, “Yeah. Sure.”

I tried not to look as surprised by this as I felt. Wade hadn’t gone out for a night of fun since I’d been back on the Lazy G. Something relaxed inside of me.

“All right. They’re leavin’ in about an hour or so. Time to go find my dancin’ shoes.” Wade snorted at this. I got up, brushed off my jeans and said in falsetto, Southern twang added in for good measure, “I suggest you try and find a shower. You’re sweaty and that is
so
icky.”

Wade laughed and said, “Sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean to offend your delicate sensibilities.”

I didn’t dignify that with a response, but I did put an exaggerated swing in my hips as I walked back to the bunkhouse, smiling as Wade laughed again.

I found myself whistling as I heated up the leftover chicken from last night instead of waiting for Billy to cook dinner. His hamburgers were always dry and overdone. I tried to tell myself to stop, but I whistled through my shower too. I whistled while pulling on a clean pair of Levi’s and a blue shirt Erin had bought me a couple weeks ago to match my eyes. Why I would want to color coordinate with my body parts I had no idea, but Erin had acted like that was a really good thing.

I was still whistling as I pulled on my boots, just a regular whistlin’ fool.

But it felt good.

When everyone was ready to go, three piled into Wade’s truck, and four into Billy’s. I was squeezed between Wade and Mack on the bench seat. Wade had indeed showered, because I smelled mint and pine and clean just rolling off the body pressed tightly against my side.

We were quiet on the way to town, except for the sound of Wade humming. I fought the urge to whistle and occasionally joined Wade’s humming with my own when I couldn’t help it. Hearing me join in, Wade grinned over at me, and Mack snorted and said something about young fools being “so damn weird these days.”

We went into Ginny’s Saloon, not a gay bar by any means, but friendly enough that Wade and I probably wouldn’t get our asses kicked. Wade and I went to go grab beer from the bar while Mack and the hands snagged a pool table.

While we waited for the beers, I said, “Shame we picked Ginny’s.”

Wade didn’t look at me but I could see the grin fighting through. He said, “Why’s that?”

“I wouldn’t mind a whirl around the dance floor with you, cowboy. Don’t think we’d get away with that here.” I looked around at the mixture of weathered cowboys and young kids looking for trouble. Yeah, we might not get our asses kicked for admitting to being gay, but if we started twirling around together, somebody might have a problem with it.

“Yeah. I think you’re right. Shame.” Wade’s hazel eyes looked more green than anything tonight, shining bright with…something. Something good, something I wanted to see every time Wade looked at me.

“Yep. ‘‘ S what I said.” We just stood there smiling at each other like the fools Mack had called us earlier. I didn’t know what this was exactly, or how things had changed from last week, I just knew it was warm and good, and it was running back and forth between us, bringing smiles and laughter and teasing. And the promises of more.

I never wanted it to end.

The moment was interrupted by the bartender coming back over with the pitchers. We paid and headed over to play some pool.

Two hours later, I was riding a nice buzz and starting to feel downright good. Excited. Which might have had something to do with staring at Wade’s ass for the majority of that time while he was bent over taking his pool shots. Man had a damn fine ass, filled out his denim just right, that was for sure. I realized I was getting myself in trouble that would soon be very obvious if I kept composing odes to Wade’s ass in my head, despite my slouch against the wall in the darkened corner.

Wade and Mack were playing for some serious money, competitive bastards. Billy was kicking Tom’s butt over at the other pool table, Joe had left an hour ago with a blond woman who looked at least ten years older than he was, and Dwayne was currently trying his luck with a redhead at the bar. I decided to get some air.

I was leaning against the corner of the building in the shadows, inhaling the scent of early fall nights in Big Sky country, and thinking about the last few months and how glad I was that I came home when Wade joined me.

“Thought you were winnin’ big in there.”

“Nah. Old man cleaned me out.” Wade didn’t seem too bothered about it.

“Better not let him hear you call him old man. Unless you’re not partial to your front teeth.”

“Too late. And it’s wasn’t pretty.” He paused. “So, why’d you leave? Didn’t want to stick around and see me get my ass kicked?”

“Wade, I got ideas for your ass, and they’ve got nothin’ to do with kickin’.” Shit, did I say that? I’d definitely had one too many. I leaned farther back into the shadows, not wanting Wade to be able to see my face.

“Oh, really? Maybe you should tell me more about them, then.” Wade didn’t even look like he moved, and yet all of a sudden there he was, right in front of me, all I could see. The look in his eyes was intense, and the shadow was creeping over his face as he moved closer.

“I’m not sure…” I smelled the yeast on his breath, felt my hat tip up off my head and tumble down to the ground as his knocked into it, felt the heat of his body, felt him breathing. Then I was breathing him
in
,
getting ready for the taste of Wade, finally, when the door to Ginny’s slammed shut.

“Wade? You out here?” Mack. I groaned and leaned my head against the side of the building. Wade stepped back into the light.

“Yep. You ready to go?” Wade looked completely at ease, as if nothing had been about to happen here in the shadows.

I stepped into the light too, and Mack just squinted at me for a moment. Then he looked at Wade, snorted, and said, “Yeah. I’m about ready to head home. Stayin’ out ’til the wee hours is for the young fools.”

I studied Mack’s face, tried to figure out if it was more than that. Relieved, it really did look like he was just tired.

“All right, old man, let’s go home.” I might have had the brass to say it, but I still put a hop in my step on my way to the truck, trying not to laugh at Mack’s outraged mutterings that followed close behind.

I found the third sketch the next morning, rolled up, on my unmade bed after I came back from a morning dip in the pond. Probably the last of the season, ’cause the water had been
cold
. I stood there dripping on the wooden floor, shivering, and I contemplated it. I had a feeling…

Yeah, this one was of me. It wasn’t a very graceful pose. I was half bent over, hauling up a wooden slat, my hands covered in work gloves and my hat shading my face from view. I sat down on the bed and looked at that drawing, and I finally got a clue.

“
I want you to see me, see that I’m sorry I left and I’m back to stay. I’ll help you hold onto this place, I swear…
”

I studied the sketch another minute, and then I set it on the dresser until I could frame it and hang it up next to the other two on my wall.

I didn’t hunt down Wade to say thank you this time. I realized he was telling me something, but I still didn’t know how much he was saying.

I spent a week avoiding Wade. I was unsure of what he wanted, where he was going with this, so I did what I do best. I ran.

Every time I saw him coming, I went the other way, or tried to look busy, and if that didn’t work, I hid. Not behavior to be proud of, really, but sometimes not knowing and hoping was better than finding out and being disappointed.

What a coward I was. I wondered if I’d find the yellow brick road somewhere on the ranch.

I didn’t know if I was coming or going, and I was learning that running was still tiring even if it was partly figurative.

After an evening spent watching TV with Mack and Dwayne, ignoring Mack’s mutterings—even when he called me Debbie D. for my “long face”—I said good night, my mind on what Wade was doing up at the house as I made my way to my bedroom.

Was he getting ready for bed? Or already in it? Was he running a hand down the smooth skin of his stomach, into the hair at his groin? Was he stroking the length of his prick, enjoying the feel of it slowly filling until he was hard and throbbing? Was he picturing someone as he pumped himself, the intense feelings curling through his body? Did he cry someone’s name as his back arched and he shot his pleasure into his hand?

Realizing I was leaning against my bedroom door and rubbing myself through my jeans, I huffed a laugh and started stripping. I was naked and about to climb into bed when I noticed the drawing left next to my pillow. I wondered when he had managed to leave this one since it hadn’t been here when I came back earlier, and I had been in the bunkhouse since dinner.

I picked it up, unfurled it, ignoring the clenching of my stomach muscles, and gaped. The sketch was of me coming out of the pond, running a hand through my hair as I tilted my face up to the sun. I was decently covered in cut-offs, and there was nothing indecent about what I was wearing or doing. But I wouldn’t show this to Mack or Erin, and definitely not to any kids.

I looked…sexual. The lines of my body, the look on my face, I don’t know, but something about the way Wade had sketched me was unmistakably erotic.

Was this how Wade saw me? Was he answering my questions? Asking his own? Was he waiting for me to make my own move? I felt more confused than ever, and abruptly I was sick of the game. Tomorrow I was going to ask Wade what he wanted from me.