Trial by Fire short
“Oy, look at you, girlie!”
Chloe spun, her ladybug costume this fancy-assed get-up with glittering black spots and a bright red tutu. The bobbers lit up, and her face had been oh so carefully made up by her beloved bodyguard Darniell.
Lachlan didn’t even begin to want to know how the hell the bad-assed man was more than comfortable with an eyeliner and mascara.
If it made their little one happy, so be it.
“You’re amazing, girlie-girl. Where’s your daddy?”
“In the truck! Let’s go! There’s games and a funhouse and a costume contest and Daddy says I’m the prettiest!”
“A funhouse? Are you sure you want to do that, Bug?” He felt as if she was a bit young for that still. They could be scary.
“It’s fun, right?” She seemed a bit unsure now, and Lachlan didn’t like that one bit.
His phone beeped. {everything ok? She’s gonna poop out by 8…}
{we’re on the way} Lachlan took Chloe’s hand. “It’s all fun, m’dear. I was just thinking how many things there are, that’s all. We’ll pick and choose, yeah?” They got to the truck, and he shook his head slightly at his husband, Holden.
Holden tilted his head, but the brim of that cowboy hat dipped in agreement. “Y’all ready to have a good time? I love how your costume turned out. Granny did a great job!”
“I’m b-e-a-u-tiful!”
“You are. I will take a dozen pictures of you, at least.” Holden got them moving, and they were at the fairgrounds in no time.
On the way, Lachlan had a stern talking to himself about how his girl was fierce and brave and he should never make her think she couldn’t do something. And about how he would vet the funhouse while Holden and Chloe stood in line for the amazing alchemy of cornbread and hot dogs Texans called corny dogs.
Holden whistled along with the Disney Halloween playlist, and he loved the peace on his husband’s face. The longer they ran the rodeo company and the ranches together, the easier things got.
They needed each other.
The fairground parking lot was full, but because they’d sponsored this event, Holden pulled the truck up to the VIP section and parked it.
“All right! You two figure out the costume contest and then get corny dogs. I’ll get drinks!” Lachlan winked broadly at Holden, who gave him the ack eyes, the what the hell are you doing look.
“Come on, Chloe. Let’s go sign up before your father gets any weirder.” Holden mouthed, “Text me!”
He gave them a big grin, then headed off toward the funhouse, which had a giant open clown mouth on the side of the connected trailers. Now, he loved American Halloween, but he hated clowns. With a passion.
And he did text Holden. {testing the funhouse. she wants to go}
{Ah. No nightmares. I trust you}
No pressure. Crikey.
He paid his dollar and walked in, the floor shaking underneath his feet as lights turned on and off.
The place was probably a colossal joke to anyone over twelve, but between the mirrors that distorted his image, making his cowboy hat look like a hatchet buried in his head, the clown laughter on repeat, and the black light section, Lachlan felt like he’d taken a beating by the time he got to the see-saw floor a la that Grease movie.
Then he hit the end of the road, where a blast of air blew his hat off and a real clown, probably a teenager from his size, chased him outside, wiggling his white-gloved fingers.
“Oi! Piss off!”
There was no way — no way his kindergartener in her fancy ladybug costume was going in this thing. The air would blow her light up bobbers right up, for chrissake.
He texted Holden. {NO.}
{Duck games it is. She wants a funnel cake.}
{Anything but this. Where are you?}
{Funnel cake line. Get drinks}
Right. He’d said he would. He got them Cokes and got his girl a tiny Sprite. He would pamper her and she would forget the funhouse. Dammit.
After she won second place in the costume contest, a goldfish in a bowl, and a hummingbird cake decorated like a ghost in the cake walk, their baby was exhausted, and his pocket cowboy carried her while Lachlan played pack mule.
“Let’s just cut through here.” Holden turned, and he went right for the funhouse before Lachlan could warn him.
He tried to get ahead so he could block her view, but of course, Chloe perked right up and looked at the damn thing, her eyes wide.
“What’s that, Dad?”
“The funhouse, Bug.” He held his breath, hoping against hope she wouldn’t want to go in there.
“Oh. Oh, no. Daddy, we can’t go there!”
Holden blinked. “We cain’t?”
“No, no. Darniell says, Dad, he’s scared of clowns. That would give him nighthorses!”
Holden hugged their baby girl close, laughing softly, his cowboy eyelines drawing up around his dark eyes. “Well, now, that’s the God’s honest truth, baby girl. And you’re awful good to think of him.”
Lachlan had to turn away so he didn’t crack up laughing. His Chloe-bug was always one step ahead of him.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Foster Ranch 2
“Daddy? I need you to zip me up.” Naomi came out of the bedroom in a pretty eggshell blue dress that made her glow, and Wat’s eyes filled with sudden, unexpected tears.
God, she looked so much like her momma it hurt. Every time something new happened, he hoped Michelle knew, could somehow see their little girl who was growing into a lovely young lady.
“Of course I can. Is this the new dress Papa Tygh bought you?”
She nodded and beamed at him, spinning in a circle as soon as he zipped her up, the skirt billowing up. “It’s so pretty. He said that he thought I’d like it to wear for school pictures.”
“It’s so lovely on you.” He clapped his hands when she did a ballerina bow.
“They won’t let me wear my good hat, so this is okay.”
“They don’t like hats with school pictures, baby girl. But that’s okay.”
“I bet Papa Tygh wore his hat to school.” She looked so serious.
“I bet Papa Tygh followed the rules. He’s good that way. If you want, you can go with your sisters, and we’ll take pictures in the sunshine. You can wear whatever you want.”
She pondered that, then shrugged. “I’d like that. I’m going to wear my hand for these pictures, I think.” Her grin went wicked. “I like to spook the picture takers. A lot.”
“Oh, listen to you!” He couldn’t wait to tell Tygh about this. His husband would be over the moon. “Did Papa Tygh get matching dresses for the babies?”
Not that they were babies anymore. Maggie was in preschool at the ranch, and Miss Emma was running around like a hooligan these days.
Naomi rolled her eyes. “No. They have purple and yellow. He says blue is my color.”
He couldn’t help his laugh. “Of course he does. Let’s go show it off, huh? Everyone’s waiting to admire.”
“Of course they are.” She gave one more twirl, then took his hand with her good one, going serious. “I’ll wear my straw hat and my ropers for the sunshine picture, Daddy. They’ll go with any dress. That’s the cowgirl way.”
“You know it, baby girl. Papa Tygh will approve.”
“He loves me any way I am. Just like you, Daddy. Let’s do this.” She tugged him along, and he had to laugh.
She’s a good one, lady, he thought. I hope you see.
He thought Michelle saw. And then Tygh was there, making admiring noises and getting everyone in the car, and his heart was as full as it could be.
It was going to be a good day.
Kobe and Tom snippet — Cowboy Wanted
“Hey, babe, we should go to the rodeo,” Kobe said.
Tom looked over, eyebrows rising. “Uh. Are we trolling for new cowboys to hire?”
Kobe chuckled. “Not really. It’s just rodeo season, and I’m feeling like we should go.”
Tom’s eyes narrowed, the expression suspicious as hell, even as he fought his smile. “You just randomly want to go?”
“Am I not allowed to be spontaneous?”
“You? No.” Tom shook his head, his smile going wry. “You always have a plan.”
“Maybe I just have a hankering for a corny dog.”
“Ooh…can I have funnel cake?” Look at those pretty eyes light up. He knew fair food would be his in. Tom loved it.
“And curly fries. Or a bloomin’ onion.” He grinned, because they were going to the rodeo. Woo.
“Bloomin’ onion…oh, you’re pushing all my best buttons. Can we sit where we can see the cowboy butts? The bull riders?”
“Yep. We can get box seats down by the chutes.”
“Man, you are really buttering me up.” Tom narrowed those gorgeous eyes at him. “Is Remington going to be there?”
He blinked innocently. “Hmmm?”
“Oh, you ass.” Tom shook his head. “You couldn’t just say so? You had to lie?”
He thought about protesting that he wasn’t lying, actually. It was a spontaneous urge to go to the rodeo. Rem had just called fifteen minutes ago. But that would go over like a lead balloon, and he loved his life, so he did what any good hubby should do.
He threw himself on his spouse’s mercy. “I’m sorry, baby. I should have just said. But when we got his Christmas card…”
“That was bullshit. Him and his newest yoga dude all naked and wrapped around each other like pretzels?”
He chuckled. “It was pretty ridiculous.”
“It was tacky.” Tom narrowed his eyes. “I’m way hotter than he ever dreamed of.”
“Yes.” No question.
“And I love you better.”
Kody didn’t even crack a smile. “All the way.”
“And he can’t compete with me.”
“Never in a million years. He just wants to show off his new thing and buy us a beer.”
“I’m unconcerned with his new thing, however…” Tom gave him an arch look. “I’ll totally be your arm candy so Remington can burn with jealousy.”
“Thank you.” He bowed his head, giving Tom his best grateful grin. Which, since he was sincerely glad that Tom was his, was pretty grateful. And sincere. “And I will bribe you with food and cowboy butts.”
“And not even thinking about what you lost in Rem, right?”
Koby stood going to grab Tom and take kiss that left the both breathless. He put all his love into it, all of the emotion he felt every damn day when he looked at the man who made him the luckiest son of a bitch on earth.
“I never even think he’s lost, baby. I think he was just a warm-up for the best thing that ever happened to me. You.”
Tom beamed, cheeks pink. “Rodeo and corn dogs it is, then. Wear your best Wranglers. I want him to see what he lost to me.”
Jack — Pick Up Man
Jack scanned the arena as he warmed Ghost up. He always loved the west coast events — the bulls weren’t as hyped as the Texas and Oklahoma events, the weather was usually good, and there was a good chance that he was going to get laid.
He made another lazy round of the arena, looking for a certain blond head, a smiling that meant he was in Anaheim.
At for least for the last two years it had been, and he didn’t have the slightest reason to doubt that it would happen again.
He slowed as he passed Mackey and his team, the bullfighters jogging nice and steady for one last round before they went in to hide from the crowds. “How’s it going?”
“Fine as frog hair split three ways. You find him yet?”
Jack didn’t pretend not to know what Mackey was talking about. “Not yet…”
He’d be here, though.
This was their thing. Anaheim. Room service. A bottle of lube. Jack counted on it.
Hudson would be here. Jack knew it, balls to bones.
“Mini, I swear to God, if you don’t stop humming, I’m going to beat you to death with a shovel.”
“Huh?” Jason pulled out his earbuds. “Are you talking to me?”
“Yes. If you’re going to ignore me and listen to something, do it quietly.” Bax was feeling pretty ill-used. He’d been out working on painting the house supports all day, and now he was tired, hot, and grumpy, and he wanted supper.
And to sit in his damn easy chair and watch the bull riding and drink his beer without Jason humming!
“Jeez, okay, cowboy. Take it easy. I didn’t hear you come in.”
And then he felt guilty as hell, didn’t he? It wasn’t like Jase could see him.
“Sorry, Mini. I’m just hot and tired.”
Jason’s lips curved in a smile, and put his earbuds and phone down, then nudged his dog out of the way before coming over to reach out to Bax. “Want to take a shower before I make us some supper, old man?”
“Hell, yes.” And suddenly, the whole evening looked way brighter than it had only a moment ago.
{I didn’t know I was going to miss you.}
Haverty stared at the text, and a dull heat climbed up along his neck that had precious little to do with the desert sun pounding on him.
He’d known better than to take up with a rodeo man, to let Cal into his house, his heart, his motherfucking soul. Everybody knew Cal’s type never stayed home.
They came complete with beautiful bodies and traveling feet. Callused hands that learned everything about a man, turned him inside out and ruined him.
Now Cal was gone, and Haverty was on the back of Ollie, Rip and Torn running alongside like border collie torpedoes, to bring his little herd down to pasture closer to the home. His ass was sore, but it weren’t nothing compared to the hole in the center of his chest that Cal had torn when that fancy pick up hadn’t been in the place it belonged this morning.
{I didn’t know I was going to miss you.}
His lip curled, and he shot off an answer before he put his phone away. He had work to do, and the day wasn’t getting any longer.
{You do now.}
#
{You do now.}
Cal glanced at his phone, trying to decide whether to say anything. Haverty was his ride or die, and Cal loved the fine son of a bitch, he did.
Haverty had his heart, but it was rodeo that had his balls, and he was as addicted to that eight second buzzer as a man could be.
From paying his entry fees to rosining up his bull rope to that sound — that buzz that sure as shit echoed in his soul — it suited him to the bone, and he couldn’t reckon a way out of loving it.
He wanted to. He wanted to be that man that Haverty needed — stable, steady as a rock, dependable and good. He wanted to wake up in the same bed every day for fifty years, next to the same man, working the same land like he was an Old West rancher fighting for his legacy.
He wanted all those things, but he needed to rodeo.
God help him, but he needed to ride, and damn the consequences.
He stared at his phone, knowing that he was fixin’ to have to climb into the chute and knowing that Haverty wouldn’t thank him for texting.
Still—
{Fixin to ride. Pray I stick tonite}