Two Sides of the Same Coin (41 page)

BOOK: Two Sides of the Same Coin
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“Jeffy? Jeff? You okay there? What’s wrong?” He sat down next to me and put his arm across my shoulders. I looked at him. I must have looked like a deer in the headlights because I sure felt that way.

“I just talked to Dad’s attorney.”

“Is everything okay? The ranch isn’t bankrupt is it? If it’s somethin’ like that, don’t worry, we’ll get through it. I’m here with ya, Jeff, through thick and thin.”

“No, it’s not that. The ranch is paid for and debt free.”

“What is it, Jeff? You look like you had a big shock.”

“I did. I just can’t seem to get my head around this, but the attorney told me Dad had a bunch of investments.”

“That’s good, ain’t it? Are they losin’ money or something?”

“No, the investments are worth a fair amount, he said; Dad never told me nothin’ about investments. I’m kinda in shock.”

“Wow! My God, Jeff, that’s great! I am really happy for you. You’re such a great guy; you deserve somethin’ special like that.” He pulled me into a hug. When he let go, he looked at me real serious like. “Is this gonna affect us in any way, Jeff?”

“Remember last night at One Eyed Jack’s I introduced you as my partner?”

“Yeah.”

“What does partner in that sense mean to you, Mike?”

“I reckon it means we’re boyfriends.”

“Mike, buddy, one of the things you’ll learn about gay culture is since it’s a fairly new culture, English really doesn’t have words to express some of its concepts. Like partner, it’s come to mean one of a gay couple. People used to use lover, but that sounds too purely sexual for many, boyfriends sounds kinda adolescent.

You ain’t my wife, you ain’t my husband, but to me though, partner means the same thing. I kinda think of us as married, Mike, as a team. If I’m off here, let me know, but remember the conversation we had when I said I was gonna push your wheelchair with my walker? I feel that way, buddy. I see us as bein’ together for the long haul. Money or no money, that don’t matter to me. What matters to me is you and our commitment to each other. That we work on bein’ together and work on enjoyin’ the good times and work on gettin’ through the bad.” I looked at him; he looked back and then buried his head in my shoulder.

“Jeff, you are so wonderful. I don’t know what in the hell I did to deserve you.”

“I feel the same way about you, so I reckon maybe we both got what we deserve.”

“I dunno what to say.”

“You don’t need to say nothin’. You still hard from wearin’ my underwear and socks?”

“Now that I started thinkin’ on it, yeah, I’m gettin’ there.”

“How about we head upstairs, and I make you feel real good?”

“Can we leave the underwear and socks on?”

I laughed. “You got it, buddy. Now let’s get to bed.”

A couple of hours later, we threw on sweatpants and headed downstairs for a very late lunch or early dinner. We were both basking in a very pleasant afterglow. The boy was definitely full of surprises in the sack. I was beginning to think of him as “the boy” because he got off on being a bit submissive between the sheets. For having gone through what he did as far as dealing with being gay and his home life, he hadn’t let it affect his sex drive.

We fit together real well. He was creative and imaginative in the sack. We had left the underwear and socks on, and although I never thought that would be anything special, it really got him off, and that made me feel good. We were puttering around the kitchen fixing spaghetti with meat sauce, garlic bread, and salad. Although we both usually prefer beer, we opened a bottle of good red wine. The boy got me going so much, I even put a couple of candles on the table. Mike looked at me with a tender expression on his face.

“Jeff, I feel kinda like I’m bein’ romanced.”

“You are. If you think that a little bit of money would change the way I feel about ya, I must need to work a little harder to show ya just how special ya are.”

“It’s just my own insecurities that made me ask, Jeff.”

“What can I do to make ya feel more secure?”

“You already do make me feel secure. If ya look at me a month ago or so, I was really fightin’ with who I am, kinda ashamed, always feelin’ that people looked at me like somethin’ they’d scrape off the bottom of their boot. But bein’ with you is changin’ that. I realized I’m me. And for the first time in my life, I like bein’ me. If someone as fantastic as you sees somethin’ in me, wow, I must have something good goin’ for me. You make me feel special too.”

“It’s my job as your partner. Do ya like the candles I set out?”

“I do. I never imagined two guys could be romantic.”

“Let me show you then, buddy. The candles, they’re just a little extra to say you’re special. I reckon, maybe we should have some date nights. Ya know, you and me havin’ a nice dinner, or goin’ out or seein’ a movie or somethin’ like that.”

“How about if we move the furniture back and dance?”

“I’d like that a lot, Mike.”

“Me too.”

“So, how did it go with Mary Grace?”

“She’s a nice lady. She liked my stuff, and seemed really interested about how I braid horse hair. I told her I’d write up a history of the craft. She was surprised to find out old-time waddies used to even make lassos outta horsehair.”

“Did you have to explain a waddie is another word for cowboy?”

“I just said cowboy.”

“Is she gonna give you a separate exhibit?”

“No. She suggested that we put your exhibit and mine together. I thought it was a good idea. That’ll highlight us bein’ a team and feature the ranch. That’s gotta be good advertisement for the dudes.”

“That is a good idea. You got a great head on your shoulders. Cute too.”

“Thanks. Now that you know you ain’t gonna have to worry so much about money do you have anythin’ you want to do?”

“I’m still in shock about the whole thing. One thing that does scare me a bit is I don’t want it to change the way I, the way
we
, live. I like the life I got here just fine, and I don’t want it to change.” He looked at me and nodded.

“There were a couple of things though that had occurred to me. I think we can go ahead and build some cabins for takin’ in dudes. Maybe do some upgrades to the bunkhouse and enlarge it. If we’re herdin’ dudes, we’re gonna have to hire a couple more wranglers who not only know how to cowboy, but know how to work with tourists. I’d also like to do somethin’ for Wayne. I did have one other thought, but I ain’t too sure how to go about it. I saw on Animal Planet, or somethin’ like that, this breed of horse that’s about to go extinct. It might be nice to see if I can get some and raise ’em here. Hell, with all the factory farms and such, the old breeds of horses and cattle are dyin’ out. We’ll see though. Like I said, I don’t really want to change the way we live too much. What about you? What do you think?”

“It’s your money, Jeff.”

“We’re a team, buddy. I want to hear what you got to say; that submissive stuff and waitin’ to be told what to do is for between the sheets; I see you as my equal. You’re my right-hand man. Now why don’t you use that pretty head of yours for more than lookin’ all handsome, and let me know what you think?”

“I like the idea of continuin’ on with the dude ranch. I had a lot of fun when we had all those folks over and put on a mini-rodeo for ’em. I know you did too. We’ve already got a plan together for that. You’re really good with numbers and stuff; why don’t you put together a business plan? Then you could see how much buildin’ cabins would cost, how long it would take to recoup the costs, and that kinda stuff. I know you also could put together a website for the ranch when you’re ready to start takin’ dudes.”

“Mike, buddy, you are a genius. That makes really good sense. I reckon we could start after the New Year, at least in the house. We could put up some more cabins outside next summer. What do you reckon about more wranglers? I was thinkin’ maybe three more since they’ll have to herd dudes.”

“I reckon two would do it. That would be José, Josh, me, and then two more plus Wayne as foreman.”

“Three, buddy. You’re with me in the big house. I need you as dude manager.”

“I don’t know the first thing about bein’ a manager. I don’t even know what in the hell I’d do.”

“That’s what we gotta figure out. I reckon I can do the books, orderin’ supplies, a lot of the managin’ stuff, but I’m gonna need help. You might help with things like overseein’ the housekeepin’ and entertainment staff or stuff like that. This is new to me, too, buddy, so let’s take the time to research it and do this right.”

“Yeah, no sense in runnin’ off half-cocked. We need to figure out just what we wanna offer, how to do it, what people and supplies we’d need, and how do we go about gettin’ to the point where we’re ready.”

“Yeah, like offerin’ horse pack trips into the north Cascades. Do we have the stock? Then do we have the guides and equipment? Also we gotta figure out just how much will the dudes do. Are we gonna do everything for ’em or will they pitch in a bit? It’s pretty complicated. I reckon we shouldn’t just rush into this. I like your idea of a business plan. That should probably be the master plan for everything.” By this time we were pretty much done with dinner. We cleaned up and headed into the living room. I had laid a fire earlier, so I lit it now. The lights were on a dimmer switch, so I turned ’em nice and low.

“Buddy, help me move this furniture aside. This is our date night, and we’re gonna dance.”

“You got it!” We had the furniture moved in a flash and the rugs rolled back. I had copied a bunch of songs from different discs onto one, so we had a disc full of good dance numbers. It started out with “Should’ve Been a Cowboy” by Toby Keith. I took Mike in my arms, and we began to slide across the floor. He had the rhythm down really well and was a good dancer. After warming up with a few songs, I twirled him once or twice. He caught on pretty quick. After we danced for about an hour, I taught him the shuffle, or three step. It was pretty simple, just three steps with you feet ending up together. You start one series of three with you left foot, and then the next with your right. You can do lots of twirls and dancing almost like a swing while doing a shuffle. We had it down pretty well after a few tries.

I put the second disc on that I’d made. It was slower songs and love songs. It was nice to dance really close to Mike. He was resting his head on my shoulder, and our belt buckles were really rubbing. We could dance pretty close. We danced another hour or so when I whispered in his ear, “How are ya enjoyin’ our date?”

“I’m havin’ a great time. I love dancin’ with you, and dinner was great. The candles made it kinda sweet.”

“Any regrets about movin’ all your stuff up here?”

“No. I reckon I’m the happiest I ever been.”

“Good, that makes two of us.” I drew his face to mine and we kissed. I could taste the garlic on his breath and the fruity deepness of the red wine. I gently nibbled his lower lip. We continued to move to the music, not really hearing it, more feeling the beat and keeping pace with that. The fire had burned low, and the moon outside the huge picture windows was full. Its silver light was bright enough to cast shadows. Frost had already covered the ground in its white mantle. The world outside seemed to consist of blues and silver, and inside of soft orange and dusky red from the dying fire.

As we kissed, I could smell the soap Mike had used on his face. It was clean and fresh. A deeper breath alerted me to his clean, musky smell, mixed with my own. He felt comfortable in my arms, as if this was something we had experienced in other lifetimes, in other ages. My body was beginning to react to his smell, his touch, and his movements. As I lengthened and stiffened, I felt him doing the same as he pressed against me. I broke the kiss and again whispered in his ear, nibbling at his ear lobe as I did.

“C’mon, buddy, let’s head upstairs to bed. I want you. I need you now. C’mon.”

He moaned in response, and we headed upstairs.

 

 

I
T
WAS
late Saturday afternoon. We’d had a good day. We’d practiced our roping, had a good workout, and each one of us had worked on our respective arts. We’d gotten a fair amount done, and had fun also. Now we were all duded up and heading into town. We both had on flashy cowboy shirts. Mine was red, and Mike’s was black with blue, white, and gray stripes. We both had on black felt rodeo hats with headbands that he’d made. I’d stuck an eagle feather I’d found into my hat band. Mike was driving since my truck was still out of commission. I was supposed to get it back on Monday. I was looking forward to that. My truck was fairly new, and I liked all the bells and whistles it had, like heated seats. They were great on a night like this. Looking at Mike and me all duded up, I had to laugh. It made me think of a song by Toby Keith, called “Country Comes to Town.” Mike started singing with me. I was aiming to have a good time and to forget all about rustling, shootings, dudes, and money. When we walked past the bunkhouse to get to Mike’s truck, we saw José had already left. Wayne’s trailer was dark; he was off somewhere. I decided at that time to try and include him more. Josh had been in Seattle the last few days visiting Renee. They were supposed to be up here this weekend, so it would be nice to see them. After roundup, there was less work to do, so Josh was taking advantage of it by spending his time with Renee. We got to Winslett and parked. We walked into One Eyed Jack’s and headed for the table everyone was clustered around. The whole group was there, Sandy, Maria, José, Josh, and Renee. There were already several pitchers on the table, and someone had ordered snacks: jalapeno poppers, hot wings, onion rings, and fried chicken gizzards. We sat down. In a flash, two full mugs of beer were placed in front of us.

“Hey, guys, how ya doin?” Sandy was always the first with a conversation.

“Fine,” Mike and I answered in unison and turned red. Everyone else laughed.

“You have it bad, señor boss! Now you two are talking together. What is next, you will start dressing like cuates?” José was laughing. Mike and I turned even redder with the dressing alike, considering some of out recent play, but said nothing.

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