The Cowboy Poet (7 page)

He realized two men were scuffling in the corner, grunting and breathing hard. It took a few seconds for Tyler‘s brain to register that one of the men was Clint, the other guy a big burly bear of a man. The man flipped Clint to ground in a sudden move and fell to his knees, straddling Clint‘s chest as he leaned forward.
A different scene leaped from its troubled sleeping place in Tyler‘s memory— Wayne pinning Tyler in the dirt, his fingers pressing hard against Tyler‘s larynx. Wayne had crossed a line that night, leaving bruises on Tyler‘s throat and fear in his gut that things had gone way too far.
The scene before him now flickered and jumped in the half-light, like the scenes on a spool of film clattering madly through a broken projector. Tyler‘s body jerked into action, hurtling across the space toward the men. Clint was in trouble!
He grabbed Clint‘s attacker, wrenching the man‘s thick arm back, while his other hand curled into a fist. What the fuck you think you‘re doing? he heard himself shouting, as his knuckles made contact with the man‘s hard jaw.
The man, still on his knees, angled sharply toward him and before Tyler could react, landed a punch on Tyler‘s shoulder that sent him sprawling back into the dirt. Pain shot down Tyler‘s arm, but he barely noticed it as he leaped to his feet, his blood boiling. The man, too, had risen.
Clint scrambled up, moving fast so he was suddenly between them, his arms held out toward either man, palms up. Hey! he shouted. Both of you calm down! We got a misunderstandin‘ goin‘ on. Tyler moved to the left, determined to keep his eye on the burly guy hiding behind Clint, but Clint moved too, blocking his view.
Tyler, get a hold of yourself. I‘m tellin‘ you everythin‘s fine. Ain‘t nobody bein‘ attacked here. You hear me? Clint reached for his shoulders, which he shook until Tyler focused on him, finally hearing his words.
We were just tusslin‘, Ty. Give it up. Clint released his shoulders and caught Tyler in a firm bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides in the process.
Tyler understood it all in a rush. He hadn‘t burst in on a fight, but on lovers locked in a playful tussle. He felt stupid and embarrassed, the feelings blurred together into something that felt more like anger. Well, excuse me for giving a fuck, he snapped, jerking out of Clint‘s embrace.
This must be the boy you were tellin‘ me about, the man who Tyler knew must be Jonas Hall said in the same slow drawl that Clint favored. I reckon he needs a few lessons in manners. He rubbed his jaw, but Tyler saw he was grinning.
I thought you were fighting, Tyler offered, the anger sliding back down into embarrassed chagrin.
Clint nodded, a smiling lifting one side of his mouth, though he shook his head. Understandable. Jonas and I just enjoy a little horseplay now and again. It‘s our way of sayin‘ hello. Jonas likes to try and take control from time to time, until I remind him who‘s really in charge.
Tyler looked toward the big man, who laughed. Clint likes to think so, anyway. He and Clint exchanged a look of tenderness that, despite his promises to himself not to care, made Tyler‘s heart spasm.
Hey, you, Clint said, again putting his strong arms around Tyler. Everythin‘s okay. Like I told you on the way here, me and Jonas, we‘re friends. Friends with benefits, and for the way we have to live around these parts that‘s a special thing.
Tyler stole a glance at Jonas, who was nodding. Clint let Tyler go and stepped back. Jonas and me go back years, and I ain‘t gonna apologize for his existence, or deny it. Yeah, maybe I should have told you sooner, and for that I‘m sorry but that don‘t change the way I feel for you.
He paused a moment, collecting his thoughts while the warmth of his last words soothed Tyler. You know, Clint continued, his voice soft but firm, love comes in all kinds of forms and sometimes in the most unexpected places. It‘s a shame to turn your back on it, just cause you‘re scared or confused.
He fixed Tyler with a penetrating gaze. That‘s where trust comes in. I hope you can trust me enough to get past this bit of craziness between us. You‘ve come to mean a whole lot to me this past week, Ty. I want you in my life, and if this hasn‘t scared you clean away, I‘d like to introduce you, proper-like this time, to my friend, Jonas Hall.
In spite of himself, a grin curled itself over Tyler‘s face. He realized he‘d acted like a fool, but Clint was giving him a second chance. I ain‘t goin‘ nowhere, he said firmly, allowing himself to drift into the local vernacular that he‘d purposely shed when moving to Austin.
Well, then. Clint nodded toward Jonas. Let‘s just start this whole thing over. Tyler Sutton, this here‘s Jonas Hall.
Jonas moved toward him, a huge hand extended. Pleased to meet you, he said, chuckling again as he caught Tyler‘s hand in a strong grip. Though I got to say, bein‘ sucker punched ain‘t exactly the most friendly greetin‘. He rubbed his jaw with an exaggerated gesture. Now, maybe if you give me fair warnin‘ next time, you and me could have a friendly wrassle, and we‘ll just see who comes out on top.
And the loser gets a nice hard spanking from me, Clint chimed in, his eyes dancing.
Don‘t you mean the winner? Jonas quipped.
Tyler realized all the anger and indignation had evaporated in the face of their easy good humor and he laughed along with them, ignoring for the moment just how far gone his heart was for the cowboy poet.
Clint clapped Tyler on the shoulder. Okay then, he said. Now tell us about the vet‘s assistant. Did you catch him in the act? You got news?
Tyler, who had completely forgotten about why he‘d been seeking Clint in the first place, nodded eagerly. He patted his shirt pocket, but realized with a shock that the camera was gone.
You lookin‘ for this? Jonas bent down and retrieved the camera, which must have fallen out when he‘d knocked Tyler to the ground. Jonas wiped the dirt from it against his jeans and handed the camera to Tyler.
Thanks, Tyler said, anxiously turning it on. To his relief, it appeared intact, all the pictures still saved. Turning back to Clint, he said, We were right. He was the one. I caught him hauling off a tank in broad daylight. I‘ll say this for him—the kid‘s got balls. The sheriff‘s on his way. Might even be here by now.
Clint pumped his fist in the air. Boy howdy, that‘s great news! Let‘s go see what‘s goin‘ on.
Jonas cleared his throat, again rubbing the spot where Tyler had socked him. Ahem. I think we still got some unfinished business here.
Tyler and Clint turned toward him. And what might that be, Jonas? Clint asked with a straight face, though a smile seemed poised on his lips, trying to break through.
I‘m thinkin‘ we need to teach this city boy some proper country manners. Some kind of punishment is definitely in order.
You know, Jonas, Clint replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, I do believe you‘re right. A good old-fashioned over-the-knee spankin‘ might be just the thing.
Tyler looked from one to the other, not entirely sure if they were kidding or not. He knew one thing for sure, if they were serious, he‘d be ready and willing to receive his just desserts.

Clint was humming along with Patsy Cline on the radio as she sang about sweet dreams of a past love and trying to connect with someone new. Tyler listened to the words, trying not to attach any meaning to them as far as Clint and he went. Jonas had definitely thrown a wrench into their fledgling relationship. Despite Clint‘s reassurances, Tyler still wasn‘t entirely sure where Jonas fit into the mix in Clint‘s mind, or for that matter where Tyler himself fit.

It had been a long day, with the two of them giving their statements down at the sheriff‘s office, once Steve Buford had been taken into custody. Clint was driving Tyler back to Lubbock, where he could check into a motel.

Clint had invited Tyler to stay with him at his ranch in Ransom Canyon that night, but Tyler had been the one to demur. He told himself it was because he still hadn‘t submitted his article for the poetry festival, and his editor had sent a rather terse email reminding him of the deadline. He knew he had to buckle down and give it his full attention, something he would never be able to do with the sexy cowboy anywhere in the vicinity.

But if he were honest, there was more to it than that. He‘d been thrown for a loop by his own reaction to what he‘d perceived as Clint‘s plight back in the old hay barn. He‘d given no thought at all to leaping in to save his new lover, ready, on some level, to give his own life for Clint‘s.

He couldn‘t remember in all his thirty years ever falling so fast or so hard for someone. He was head over feet for the cowboy poet, and had no idea what to do about it.

Clint pulled into the parking lot beside Tyler‘s car and turned to him. I got to see you again.
Yeah, Tyler agreed, regretting his decision not to go back with Clint to his ranch then and there. He was on the verge of saying so but Clint spoke first.
I know you got to finish that article and all, Clint said. But we got some unfinished business to attend to.
A teasing lilt had entered Clint‘s tone and Tyler knew at once what he was talking about, though he pretended not to. Every time he thought about the two cowboys in the old hay barn, talking to each other about how he needed a good old-fashioned spanking, Tyler felt the blood rushing to his cock. He could almost feel Clint‘s hard, calloused hand landing with a wallop on his bare ass.
Oh, there is? Tyler suppressed his grin. What might that be?
You know good and well what that might be, boy. Jonas and me‘d be derelict in our duties if we let you get away with your bad manners back in the barn. No, sir, he grinned. We‘d be doin‘ you a real disservice if we failed to give you the punishment you so richly deserve. I‘ll expect you at my cabin tomorrow night. Eight o‘clock suit you?
Tyler couldn‘t help it—he grinned back, though a tiny flag of anxiety unfurled in his gut at the thought of Jonas being there to witness the spanking. Jonas‘ll be there? he said with a gulp.
Clint‘s grin eased into a gentle smile. If that‘s okay with you, Ty. Jonas is a good friend. My best friend for nigh on fifteen years now. You matter to me, Tyler. A lot. I want to share with you the things and folks in my life who matter too. Clint reached out and gave Tyler‘s thigh a squeeze. Ain‘t nothin‘ gonna happen you don‘t want to happen. Not tomorrow night. Not ever. That‘s how it is with you and me, Ty. You have my word on that.
Okay. Tyler nodded, still not entirely sure how he felt about Jonas witnessing his spanking, though he couldn‘t deny the big, burly man was handsome, in a rough and tumble kind of way. But Clint had left the choice open with his words. Nothing would happen that Tyler didn‘t want to happen.
The thought of being bent, bare-assed, over Clint‘s powerful thighs, slipped into his mind, sending a shockwave of longing through his body. Not eager to get out of the truck with a hard-on, Tyler forced his brain to switch gears.
He cleared his throat and stared out the window as he got control of himself. I‘m shooting to get the festival article done tonight. Then tomorrow I want to do some background checking on the tank story. I hope to interview the suspect, if the sheriff will let me. And I hope to check out where he lives, take a few pictures, see what I can find out.
Clint nodded. You might want to talk to the doc too, he suggested. See what he knows about the kid, in light of all this. He‘s probably got family locally too. Let me know what‘s goin‘ on. I‘d be interested in readin‘ your article.
Tyler smiled, warmed at Clint‘s interest in his story. They were becoming not only lovers, but friends.
Knowing if he didn‘t leave the truck now, he‘d lose his resolve completely, Tyler reached for the door handle. Okay, he said, I‘ll call you later, let you know what I find out.
Terrific, Clint replied, tipping his cowboy hat slightly toward Tyler with a nod. And I‘ll email you the directions to my place. My cabin‘s way in back of the ranch— nice and private. He winked. Remember, eight o‘clock tomorrow night. Don‘t be late, now.
~*~
Clint was bent over the engine of a tractor that had been losing oil around the head gasket. Aside from the fact that it was one of his jobs, Clint enjoyed tinkering with the farm equipment, as it gave him a chance to be alone with his thoughts.
Clint hadn‘t wanted to let Tyler go the night before. If he‘d had his way, he would never let Tyler Sutton go. And yet, that happening was about as likely as them buying a little house with a white picket fence and picking out curtains together. It just wasn‘t in the cards, not given the life he‘d chosen as a rancher in rural Texas. True, he was tolerated in spite of his sexual orientation by the folks who knew him well, but that was about as far as the acceptance went.
It occurred to him, not for the first time, that life as a gay man would be easier in a place like Austin, but even the thought of living somewhere without the vast prairies and wide open skies of his beloved West Texas filled him with a sense of unease. He guessed he was a cowboy first, before anything else, and that was bred into his bones.
And what of Tyler? He‘d been raised on a ranch, not much more than two hours from here. He‘d had no trouble, so it seemed, in just picking up and taking off for the big city, leaving behind the world and the folks he knew. Yet, Clint sensed Tyler hadn‘t really left it behind. He‘d taken whatever, or whoever, he‘d been running from right along with him. He was still carrying demons inside his heart—demons that would continue to haunt him, Clint suspected, until he faced them head on.
Clint found himself almost regretting that they‘d solved the tank theft mystery so easily. It had been the perfect excuse to travel together, away from the prying eyes of others as they explored their newfound connection with one another. With the culprit arrested, what would happen now? Would Tyler be heading back to Austin with barely a fare-thee-well and that would be that? Yeah, he was staying a few days to wrap up the story for his magazine, but Clint knew he had to face the fact that Tyler‘s life was elsewhere.
As Clint adjusted the cylinder valves, he smiled a little to himself, recalling Tyler‘s immediate assumption and reaction when he‘d seen Jonas and himself tussling in the dirt. Clint had once been like Tyler, acting first and thinking later. As the years had gone by Clint had developed a habit of moving slow—taking his time to assess a situation before barreling in with both fists cocked.
Clint was excited by the prospect of the spanking. He knew Tyler was less than certain about Jonas and what role he would play between them. Clint vowed to himself to make it work, not only for him and Tyler, but for Jonas as well.
Clint‘s cock perked up as he imagined the scene unfolding, with Tyler over his knee, the two of them taking turns at that hard, sexy ass. His cabin offered a good deal of privacy, secluded as it was from the rest of the ranch. Maybe he could convince Tyler to stay a while longer. Maybe they could even leave the ranch, and camp out at his favorite site, a few miles off the beaten trails of the national parks. Jonas and Clint had discovered the spot years ago, a secluded bit of real oasis smack in the middle of the West Texas desert, surrounded by mountains and complete with its own lake.
Clint looked up as he heard the sound of Jonas‘ truck rumbling down the dirt road that led to Clint‘s cabin. Clint hopped down from the tractor, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans.
He watched as Jonas climbed out of the truck. He had a cooler in tow, which Clint knew was filled with long-necked bottles of cold beer. Jonas glanced around. Where‘s your new friend? We got unfinished business. He grinned.
Clint looked at his watch. You‘re early. Eager, huh?
Jonas laughed, ducking his head in agreement. You got you a live one there, Clint. I ain‘t seen you so fired up about anyone since…well, not since we was young.
We‘re still young, Clint said with a smile. And yeah, he admitted. Fired up is one way of puttin‘ it. He‘s under my skin, that‘s for sure.
They walked together the short distance to Clint‘s cabin. I‘ll be right back, Clint said. Just goin‘ to wash up and change. Make yourself at home. He nodded toward the sitting area he‘d created out back, which included two sturdy but weather-beaten old chairs across from a low, wide bench. A squat wooden barrel that served as a table sat between them.
Jonas set the cooler on the ground beside the table and reached inside for a bottle. He turned one of the chairs backwards and straddled it, stretching his long legs out on either side. I‘ll be waitin‘. He tipped his beer and took a long drink.
Clint went inside, glancing around the one-room cabin, with its screened-off bedroom, living area and compact kitchen. His battered guitar was leaning against the scuffed old leather sofa beside a pile of notebooks he used to scribble his ideas and poems in. He glanced at the iron bedstead at the end of the room, imagining Tyler there, stretched out naked.
Turning on the shower, he stripped off his sweat and grease stained clothing and stepped into the stall. He gripped his cock a long, lingering moment, imagining Tyler kneeling there at his feet, mouth open, face tilted up eagerly to accept his cock. Forcing the image away, he soaped up quickly, wanting to be outside when Tyler arrived.
Clint dried himself and dressed in fresh jeans and a black T-shirt, trading out his scuffed work boots for his favorite pair of black alligator boots. Glancing at his watch again, he went back outside and sat beside Jonas. He accepted a bottle of beer and took a long swig. He glanced again at his watch, wondering if maybe it wasn‘t working right, as the hands didn‘t seem to be moving.
What time you got? he asked Jonas, starting to rise from the chair. Maybe he‘d just check around front.
You know I don‘t wear a watch. Jonas grinned. Now sit your ass down. He‘ll get here when he gets here.
Clint sat down. Maybe I should call him. It‘s easy to get confused when you‘re tryin‘ to get to the back of the property. He‘s never even been to the ranch. Could be he‘s lost.
Jonas smiled indulgently at Clint, shaking his head.
What?
You‘re fidgetin‘ like a kid waitin‘ for that three o‘clock bell to ring. Relax. He‘s got your cell number, right? Clint nodded. So he‘ll call if he needs to.
Clint grinned. You‘re right. I feel like a kid again, all right. Tyler burst into my life like sunshine into a room I hadn‘t even realized had gone dark. Clint glanced worriedly at Jonas, afraid he‘d take offense to that remark, where none was meant. Hey, I didn‘t mean—
Jonas cut him off with a smile. I know you didn‘t, buddy. It‘s me, remember? We got our own special understandin‘. We‘re friends first, don‘t forget that. I know I won‘t. I‘m happy for you. Truly I am. His face clouded a little. That is, it‘s great to see you so excited about somethin‘. He‘s got to be pretty special, to have affected you like this. I can‘t remember when you‘ve been so riled about someone new. But, I guess I‘m wonderin‘… he trailed off.
Wonderin‘…? Clint prompted.
Well, he‘s a city boy, right? In the area on assignment, but then what? You gonna start some long-distance thing? How‘s that gonna play out? Have you thought of that?
Sure, I‘ve thought of it, Clint said, annoyed, though he knew that wasn‘t fair. Jonas was only pointing out what he‘d been thinking about himself. He forced a laugh. Shit, listen to us. I‘ve only known the guy a few days and you got us movin‘ in together. You that eager to get rid of me?
Jonas shook his head. You know better than that, Clint. Clint did know better. He could no more imagine his life without Jonas in it than he could imagine living in New York City.
Clint jumped up. You know, I think I better wait in the front of the cabin. He might not realize we‘re out back.
Jonas chuckled and nodded. You go on. You ain‘t gonna rest till he gets here.
Clint walked to the front of his place and waited, sipping his beer and letting his mind drift. Jonas was right—he was riled all right. He couldn‘t seem to get enough of the eager, sexy young man who had fallen into his life like a gift from the heavens. They‘d only been apart a day and already it felt like way too long.
It was only a few minutes after eight when Tyler‘s car appeared at the bend in the dirt road. Clint waved and Tyler, catching sight of him, waved back. He parked his car and climbed out. He looked good, real good, in a tight white T-shirt that molded against his broad shoulders and barely contained his biceps.
As they approached one another, he could smell the scent of fresh soap on Tyler‘s skin. He resisted his impulse to take Tyler into his arms then and there, still mindful of being on the ranch, even if they were far from prying eyes. Once in the back of the cabin however, he wrapped his arms around Tyler as he bent him back in a kiss that left no doubt who was in charge.
He could feel the change come over Tyler as he kissed him—the easing of Tyler‘s muscles as he surrendered into Clint‘s grasp, his lips parting, his cock hardening against Clint‘s thigh. He loved the way Tyler responded to the control he exerted, and it just made him want him all the more.
When he finally let Tyler go, Clint was momentarily surprised by the sound of Jonas‘ voice. He‘d actually forgotten Jonas was there. Whoo wee! Jonas laughed. The two a‘ you got it bad.
Tyler whirled toward Jonas, flushing slightly. Oh, he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. Hi Jonas. I guess I didn‘t see you there.
No, I reckon you didn‘t. Y‘all only had eyes for each other. Jonas grinned, winking at Clint. Clint had a moment‘s worry—was Jonas as okay with this as he seemed? He studied his old friend‘s face a moment, but saw nothing there but Jonas‘ big smile.
Jonas stood and moved toward Tyler, holding out a bottle. Care for a beer?
Tyler nodded. Thanks.
The three of them settled in chairs, Jonas again straddling the back of his.
So, how did the investigatin‘ go? Clint asked Tyler. Did you get to talk to that rascal?
Tyler shook his head. Doc Crawford posted his bail early this morning. I went by the trailer park where he lives, but I couldn‘t get anyone to answer the door. I took a few pictures but that was that. I did talk to the doc, who filled me in some about Steve‘s life. He‘s barely twenty and has no family to speak of. His father was a heavy drinker who died young and his mother just passed away last year from cancer. He‘s got a sister off in Houston or somewhere but she never makes it back home. Doc Crawford has kind of taken Steve under his wing, so he took this thing pretty hard. He said Steve‘s short on judgment but underneath it has a good heart.
Apparently Steve wasn‘t even aware of the value the semen he stole. He was more focused on the worth of the tanks themselves, and was turning them over to this older guy who lived in the same trailer park and had talked Steve into doing the thefts for some quick cash. That guy‘s been picked up for questioning, and they got a warrant to search his trailer. Some of the tanks were still there and will be returned to their owners.
Well, that‘s good news, Clint said. At least the thefts will stop now. He smiled at Tyler. I guess we made a pretty good team, huh? He didn‘t voice the question that followed this remark—