Authors: Andrew Grey
“Can you stay?” Dante asked, and Ryan lifted his head, catching Dante’s gaze to make sure he’d heard right.
“You want me to?” Ryan asked. “What about your grandfather? Does he know?”
Dante chuckled. “He seems to understand me better than I understand myself sometimes. Yeah, he knows, because he told me.” Ryan could feel a bit of hesitation in Dante’s body and knew this was a big step for him. “So I think Gramps won’t be too surprised if you’re still here for breakfast.”
“I’d like to stay,” Ryan said. “I’ll have to get up early, though, because I need to get back to the city in the morning for work.”
Dante chuckled. “We all get up early around here, including Gramps,” he said, and Ryan held him tight, closing his eyes. “You’re a real cuddler, aren’t you?”
“I guess. I never really thought about it before,” Ryan said. “Sometimes things get pretty intense, and afterward… well, it’s nice to be able to just spend time being with the person you made scream.” Ryan pulled away and began to stand up. “We don’t have to if it bothers you.”
“I didn’t say that,” Dante said as he got up as well. “I was just making an observation. The guys I’ve been with haven’t stuck around more than five minutes after they came, so it’s something new to me, I guess.” Dante began gathering his clothes, and Ryan did the same. Ryan chuckled softly as Dante hopped around naked, trying to pull off his boots so he could get into his pants. Dante finally got them off and then jammed his legs into his jeans before shrugging on his shirt. “It wasn’t that fucking funny,” Dante sniped as he buttoned his shirt.
Ryan stepped over to where Dante glared at him. “Yes, it was. You were bare-ass naked jumping around like that. It was funny, and you were adorable.” Ryan reached to stroke Dante’s cheek and he backed away. “There’s no need to be a dick about it. I’m sure there will be things you’ll see about me that make you laugh.”
Dante’s expression softened slightly. “Maybe.”
“Then you don’t need to be so sensitive. You’ll do funny things, and so will I.” Ryan lowered his voice. “It was hot too, your bare butt hopping around.”
Dante rolled his eyes and unbarred the door before opening it.
“I still have a few evening chores,” Dante said, and Ryan followed behind him.
“Tell me what to do and I’ll help,” Ryan said, and Dante smiled at him.
They spent the next half hour or so bedding down the horses and checking things around the ranch before heading inside to bed. Dante peered into his grandfather’s room before leading Ryan to his own. They cleaned up quietly, and finally, ensconced in Dante’s room behind a closed door, they climbed in bed. Because of Dante’s earlier remark, he didn’t pull the other man to him. After a few minutes Dante rolled onto his side, and Ryan felt him move closer. Taking that as a sign, he tugged Dante to him and felt the tension of things unsaid slip away. Ryan closed his eyes. The man could be prickly as hell, but damned if he wasn’t falling anyway. He only hoped Dante felt the same way.
D
ANTE
rode into the small town near the ranch. Over the past few weeks, he’d seen Ryan a few times a week, and after Gramps went to bed, Ryan made him scream in the best way possible. And damned if he wasn’t happier and more content than he could ever remember. Hollister wasn’t big by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, it wasn’t much more than a wide spot in the road, and if it weren’t for the few businesses and a bar that served the best chicken-fried steak on earth, there wouldn’t be anything at all. Dante had promised his grandfather that he’d bring home dinner.
“Afternoon, Dante,” Frank Lang called as Dante entered the feed store office. “I got your order ready for you. But Josh is off for the afternoon.”
“No problem. I can load it,” Dante said with a smile.
“How’s your grandfather?” Frank asked.
“As well as can be expected,” Dante answered, Frank’s expression raising his suspicions. Frank had to be nearly as old as Gramps and he walked with a cane. But he ran the store the way he had for almost fifty years now. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just never expected your grandfather to be selling the ranch. I know it’s been in the family forever and I always figured he’d pass it on to you.”
“Gramps isn’t selling,” Dante said, and he pulled out his checkbook, glancing at the invoice for the amount before settling in to write the check.
“Oh,” Frank said softly, and Dante glanced up for a second before finishing writing out the check. He tore it out of the checkbook and handed it to Frank. “Sorry, Dante, but that’s not what I heard. There was a big-city Realtor in town a few days ago, and Grace is so angry your grandfather was working with him instead of her, she about spit nails. I saw her over at the bar and she told me about it.”
Dante stared openmouthed at Frank. This couldn’t be true. “There’s no way….”
Frank had the grace to look shocked and a bit embarrassed. “I take it Hy hasn’t said anything to you,” Frank said, and Dante shook his head, still unable to believe what he was being told.
“No one told me shit,” Dante said as what Frank had told him filtered into his mind. Big-city Realtor. Shit, there was only one person Dante knew who could possibly get Gramps in touch with that Realtor guy, and that was the big-city finance guy who’d been working with Gramps. And that meant Ryan was behind this. “I need to get the order loaded,” Dante said, trying to keep his mind on what he’d come here to do.
“It’s around back in the usual spot,” Frank said, and Dante thanked him and took off. He pulled his truck behind the store and began loading the bags into the back. Nervous energy and excitement burst from him as he tossed the heavy bags, hardly noticing where they fell. Once he’d loaded the last of the feed, Dante raced around the truck and jumped inside. He took off almost before the door had snapped closed and within seconds he was back on the road heading for the ranch. He ignored the bounce and the land that passed by outside. All he could think about was the crushing heartache of having his home, the only one he could remember since the death of his parents, ripped out from under him by the one person he trusted and loved most in the world. “Gramps would never do that,” he kept telling himself over and over. There had to be a reason for Gramps to act this way, to give up the ranch.
Dante pulled into the ranch drive and slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop in front of the house. The engine had barely stopped before Dante leaped onto the porch and opened the front door. “Gramps,” Dante called but didn’t hear a response. His heart raced and Dante hurried down the hall and pushed open the door to Gramps’s room.
He saw Gramps on the bed, and at first he thought he might be asleep, but then he heard him moan softly. Dante rushed over, the worry about the ranch completely gone as the prospect of losing Gramps loomed tall in front of him. “What’s wrong?” Dante asked, and Gramps opened his eyes for a few seconds before closing them again. Without thinking, Dante reached for the phone and dialed 911. “I need some help. My grandfather is in pain, and I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Please give me your name, sir,” the operator said calmly.
“Dante Rivers. We’re out on Rangeline Road, first ranch after the curve, number 134. Please hurry.”
“We’ll get someone out right away,” she said. “Is your grandfather breathing?”
“Yes, but he’s moaning and holding his stomach. His eyes are closed and I don’t know what’s wrong. He was diagnosed with ALS and….” Dante knew he was rambling.
“Remain calm. I’ve alerted the county ambulance service and they’re on their way. Please stay with me. I won’t hang up until someone arrives.” She sounded so calm and collected that Dante felt some of his own whirling panic begin to settle.
“It’s okay, Gramps, help is on the way,” Dante said, holding one of Gramps’s hands. His grandfather had always been strong. For as long as he could remember, Gramps had been everything to Dante. Now when Dante held his hand, Gramps felt frail, his skin a bit papery. Dante swallowed hard.
“Dante?” Gramps asked without opening his eyes.
“I’m here and help is on the way,” Dante said. “Don’t try to talk. Just rest. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Excellent. Keep him calm. I understand the ambulance isn’t far away,” the operator said. After what seemed like forever, sirens sounded, getting closer. Dante heard the ambulance pull into the drive.
“They got here,” Dante said, and he thanked her before hanging up the phone. “We’re in back,” Dante called when he heard a knock, and then heavy boots sounded on the floors.
“What happened?” one of the men asked as he came into the room.
“I don’t know. I found him like this when I got back from town. He was fine when I left.” Dante filled him in on everything he knew about Gramps’s health then backed away to let the men do their work. They seemed to be in contact with the hospital, and after checking Gramps over, they gingerly moved him to a gurney and out of the house. Dante had the presence of mind to call Violet and let her know what had happened. She told him she’d take care of the horses.
“We’re transporting him to County Memorial,” one of the EMTs said, and Dante nodded.
“I’ll be right behind you.” Dante said and followed him out of the house, locking the door behind him. He intended to follow the ambulance, but remembered the truck was full to nearly overflowing, so he took a few minutes to unload the feed. By the time he was done, Dante was a sweaty mess. His shirt was soaked and his pants stuck to his legs like glue. He also smelled like a barn. So he raced into the house, stripping off his clothes as he went. He started the water in the bathroom and stepped under it, not caring if it was hot or cold. Dante washed and rinsed in less than two minutes and dried himself on his way to the bedroom. He quickly pulled on fresh clothes and was on his way toward the front door when the phone rang.
Dante’s heart leaped into his throat as he lifted the receiver, expecting it to be the hospital. “Hello,” he said tentatively.
“Good afternoon. This is Lyle Martinson from Lone Star Real Estate. Can I speak with Hyram, please?”
“He’s not here,” Dante said, his hackles rising instantly.
“Can you tell me when he’ll be available? I’m a colleague of Ryan Abbott and I need to set up a time for him to sign the listing papers.”
Dante began to shake. “How about when hell freezes over?” Dante said, slamming the phone back in the cradle and then heading for the door. That clinched it. Ryan was somehow behind all this. Dante thought about calling him and giving him a huge piece of his mind, but he didn’t have time for that now. Gramps was on his way to the hospital, and Dante had to get there. He’d take care of the rest of it later.
He drove like a bat out of hell to the hospital, parked in the lot near the emergency entrance, and then rushed inside. A little bit of a nurse took him back to the emergency area, where Gramps lay on a bed with his eyes closed. “He’s resting and they’re going to run some tests,” she said before leaving them alone.
“That you, Dante?” Gramps asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“Yes, I’m here. Are you feeling better?” Dante asked.
“No. I don’t think I’m going to make it,” Gramps said, and Dante felt the weight of the world begin to descend on his shoulders.
“You’re going to be fine,” Dante said, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “You have to be. Otherwise I’m going to be alone.” The thought of what would happen when his grandfather was gone nearly overwhelmed him.
“You’re going to be just fine,” Gramps said, but Dante didn’t believe him. “You won’t have to take care of me anymore, and you can be happy and live your life without being tied to a dying ranch and a dying old man.” Dante looked toward the door, blinking back tears.
“Is that what you think?” Dante asked, more hurt than he could remember being in a long time. “Have I ever said anything like that?” Dante asked, turning back to Gramps, but his eyes were closed. In a bit of a panic, Dante looked up at the monitor, but Gramps’s vitals were still displayed. Dante walked around the bed and settled in the chair to wait, still worried and now wondering what he’d done to give Gramps the impression that he wanted to get rid of him and everything he’d known.
Dante’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he stood up, carefully pulling out the phone to answer it. “Dante, it’s me,” Ryan said. “I don’t have any appointments tonight and I was wondering if you’d like some company.”
“I’m a little busy. Gramps is in the hospital and I’m sitting with him,” Dante said.
“Do you want me to come there? Is there anything I can do?” Ryan asked, and for a second Dante was about to ask him to come, but then he remembered all the stuff about Realtors and selling the ranch and his temper flared.
“I think you’ve done enough already. I told your Realtor buddy to go to hell, and I hope he takes you with him. I don’t know how you convinced Gramps he needed to sell the ranch, but it ain’t happening, so you tell that slick Realtor fellow to stay the fuck away from me and Gramps. And you do the same.” Dante disconnected the call and jammed the phone back into his pants pocket. He settled back in the chair, his anger, hurt, and fear all twisting together in a massive ball of crap.