By Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 39

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.  Your 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 damn near 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 Mr. Langtry.”   

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 all ready 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 to go.

* * * * * * *

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 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 me 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 run 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, he could tell Sticker about the owner of “Hensly Agrocon” if he wanted to, with my permission, but 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.

“Yore’ shit’n me, old man!  This is gotta’ be some kind a’ trick you and 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 come to your 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 your 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 your 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 as 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 all ready got a passel of ‘em under yore’ belt.  Dwayne, Logan and you could write a book about chur’ 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.  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 that 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, 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 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 at me.

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 and 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 crying, too.  The way he told me was like I was here with you guys, experiencing it with you.  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 all ready 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, is man himself.  

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.

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.

It was partially by accident I ran into him at an old buddy’s ranch and stayed with Mutt for two weeks help’n our buddy and his boys on his ranch. Come to find out they were the parents of Mutt’s bonded mate who was killed right in front of him in Nam.  I fell deeply in love with the boy during that 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 the 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 did, 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.

He 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.  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 provided 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 the way 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?” 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.  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 your 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.

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, 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 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 five 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 will, 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.

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 didn’t bat and 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   

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