Cowboys 03 - My Cowboy Homecoming (25 page)

A light breeze teased me awake as the sun started to rise. I rolled over and found a wall of metal blocking my view.

Right.
We’d slept in the pickup. Lucho’s arm tightened around me and I leaned back against him to look up at what remained of the night sky.

“Morning,
amorcito
.” He kissed my neck.

“I forgot where I was,” I admitted, savoring the feel of his damp, warm skin against mine.

“The morning after the night before. You may have overindulged a little.”

“Oh yeah.” For the Fourth, Malloy brought in beer kegs despite the fact we normally went alcohol-free out of respect for Jimmy. I remembered refilling my red plastic cup more than a few times, and also having thirds of Crispin’s homemade apple pie and rum raisin ice cream. “Wow. I ate like a barn animal.”

Lucho’s soft chuckle raised the hair on the back of my neck. “Everyone goes a little wild on the Fourth of July. It’s tradition.”

Beyond the truck, I heard the lazy rumbling of the herd. “I want coffee.”

“Sorry,” Lucho groped around for his clothes. “I didn’t think to bring a picnic basket or a butler or nothing when we snuck away last night.”

I sat up so I could see where we’d actually wound up. He’d parked along one of the access roads. On the other side of the fence the herd was tuning up for a morning sing-along. “Tell me we didn’t spend last night in the middle of a herd of cows.”

“You didn’t seem to mind at the time.”

“I didn’t know at the time.” Well, maybe I had known. Maybe I’d loved bedding down in the middle of nowhere to make slow, noisy love under the stars, but I didn’t have to admit it. “It was too dark out.”

“Didn’t you notice the aroma of cows?”

I found my clothes and turned them right side out. “I thought that was you.”

“I—” He sputtered. “You thought—”

“After all that chili you ate last night, I certainly couldn’t blame you.”

“You thought—”

“I’m kidding.” I pulled my T-shirt over my head and found my jeans and shorts. “Don’t get all bent out of shape.”

“You fucker.” He stood to hop into his jeans. “I helped
judge
the chili cook-off. You ate ten times more than I did.”

“It’s your word against mine.”

He leaned over for a kiss, morning breath and all, and I grimaced, even though what I thought was
it’s like magic waking up with him
. I sat against the tailgate watching him dress—my heart whole and happy for maybe the first time in my life—and asked, “You ready?”

“For what?” He glanced up from pulling on one of his boots. “The road? Sure.”

Automatically, I helped him put a sock on his other, still-healing, foot. I pulled it up taut and smoothed it over his arch and heel with empathy I didn’t know I was capable of before I met him. I stopped myself from kissing his toes, but I’d certainly done that a few times too.

“Are you ready for Texas,” I asked as I jumped from the truck bed. Lucho climbed down using the bumper and we held hands as we walked to the fence to see the cows. They were a mess, bumping and clumping along randomly feeding on whatever they could find. I’d have been content to watch them for an hour. “You don’t think you’ll miss the J-Bar?”

“We’ll be back in the spring.” He turned to me. “Besides, everything I care about is coming with me.”

“Your horse?” He shot me a sour look.

“Yes. Galleta’s exactly what I was thinking of. Jim and Eddie said they’d help load the trailer.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“For what?” he asked. “The big send off?”

One of the calves broke away from its momma and came to investigate. I checked the number and sure enough, it was my baby cow, the heifer I’d watched the boss bring into the world. “Hey there. Look at you, growing up so big.”

“Jeez. She looks at you the way I do.”

“I can’t help it. Animals like me.” I pulled up a tuft of something that looked grassy and held it up for her to nibble. I could have reminded him I sought my little girl out every time I rode out. She’d had plenty of time to get to know me. But sometimes I wanted him to look at me like I was a little magical too.

“You are one song short of a Disney movie, homeboy.” He caressed my back lightly. “Just don’t forget, that’s probably food you're feeding.”

“I know.” I didn’t like to think about it. “Did I mention I might be going vegetarian in the near future?”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” His hand landed on my shoulder. “I hate to break up this tender reunion but we’ve gotta load up the horses and get on the road by around eight if we want to make it to Fort Stockton this afternoon at an easy pace. Texas is pretty big.”

“All right.” I had the sudden urge to wrap my hand around the wire fence—the desire to feel the barb’s bite against my palm. I lifted my hand and Lucho caught it.

“Hey.” He frowned as he wrapped my hand in both of his. “What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t anything like I expected.”

“What isn’t? Us?”

“Not us,” I shook my head. “Me. I came home with a plan. I was going to fix up the place and take care of my mother. I was going to ignore my dad. I was going to find work somewhere and solve everyone’s problems. But look what happened. Ma’s in the wind with Yancy Slade of all people. I’m selling our place. Because of what I told the police, Dad’s in protective custody in another state. Now we’re picking up stakes to go to Texas to train cutting horses and . . . nothing has happened the way I thought it would.”

Lucho tilted his head. “Do you feel guilty about that?”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“You didn’t cause their problems.”

“I didn’t help solve them either.”

“How could you? Look what you had to work with. Everyone ran away.”

“I know. Is that what I’m doing here?” I sought the answer in his eyes. “Am I running away again? Because I’ve got to tell you, sometimes I feel like I am. I don’t want to be rootless, Lu. I don’t want to drift anymore. But I don’t have anything to hold on to now, not like—”

“Hold on to me, then. Hold on to us.” Lucho gripped my upper arms. “This place we’re going in Texas needs horse trainers and for some reason, they think we can do the job.”

“Because that vet friend of yours told them about Pio. They’ll be looking for another miracle, but Pio’s the miracle. He’s everything you said he’d be and more. What if they expect us to perform miracles with an ordinary horse?”

“There are no ordinary horses.” Lucho’s brash confidence asserted itself. “They’re individuals. Maybe we can do more with a horse like Pio, but every horse can be special. We can do it. Trust yourself. Trust your instincts. You’ve got good ones, you know? If I didn’t see it at first, you’ve made a believer out of me.”

“But—”

“
Calmate
,
amor
.” Lucho rubbed small circles on my back. “I’ve wanted to train horses all my life. This is my dream and because we worked together, it’s a possibility.”

“I know, but—”

“Hear me out—” Lucho held his hand up. “I don’t dream alone anymore. If this isn’t what you want, you have to tell me now. We can find something else.”

“I want it. I’m just afraid.”

Lucho nodded. “Of drifting? Or of failing? Because we can’t fail unless we try. And if we try, we’re never going to drift, I promise you.”

“How can you promise anything?” I stepped away. “Shit happens. People get hurt. They die. They change. How can you promise anything when we’re not any more in control of our fate than these cows are?”

“Ah, now. Why you gotta be like that?” Lucho’s expression held love and pity in equal measure. Those dreamy brown eyes I’d fallen for—old beyond their years—softened for me. “We’re more in control of our fate than they are. At least we’re pretty much at the top of the food chain.”

“Lucho.” I needed more.

“Dude, can we finally go beyond saying ‘we’ve got a thing’? Because I love you. I really do. And that’s what’s going to make it sweet for me, no matter what.”

“Yeah?” My words came out as a hoarse whisper. “You love me?”

“C’mon. I know you’re not some rocket scientist, but let’s look at the facts, okay?” His teasing held the warmth I’d grown to depend on. “You’re a Tripplehorn, you’re a gringo, you took my job and now my horse likes you better, and I’m pretty sure you nearly killed me last night during one of your nightmares—”

“I did?” Alarmed, I looked him over, studying the skin of his neck and chest in the bare light. “How?”

“It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” He glanced away unhappily. “I got out of the truckbed and sat on the bumper. Waited until you came back to yourself. You did. But—”

“What?”

“Promise me when we get to Texas you’ll see someone about that.”

“They’ll just give me sleeping pills or mood elevators or tranquilizers or something.” I was heartily sick of doctors telling me everything could be fixed with a tweak to my brain chemistry. “I don’t want something to help me sleep. I sleep fine. It’s the dreams that are the problem.”

“So, tell them that, but don’t stop talking until the right person listens.”

“You don’t know how it is. I’ve navigated these waters before. It’s always, ‘Fill this out and go here on this day and then fill this out and go there on that day.’ Months go by before your appointment and then when you see the doc he’s up to his ass in sad bastards like me and—”

“Whoa.”

“What?”

“I am on your side.” He gripped my face between his hands. “And I have your best interest at heart. I’ll help you. You won’t be alone. And if the VA doesn’t cut it, we’ll see if you qualify for some kind of free program or we’ll get you basic health insurance. We’ll find a support group. If we can’t afford it, I can take a second job.”

I was stunned by the promise I found in his eyes. “Why would you . . .”

“Because I love you. Because we’ve got a thing. Because you and I are going to be
family
, and I take care of my own.” He smiled. “But mostly because until we fix the past we can’t start the future, and I’m really looking forward to that, whatever it is, whatever it brings, as long as I’m facing it with you by my side.”

“Luis.”
I’d loved his solid strength, his kindness, his honesty, his words. I’d loved the way he always cut through my bullshit and found me—the real me—hiding inside. I choked back a laugh of pure relief. “I love you too.”

“I know you do.” He pressed his cheek to mine, then nosed beneath my ear to give my neck a nip that was just shy of painful. “C’mon. Time to go.”

I glanced back at the range, memorizing the J-Bar land so I could hold on to it until I came back the following spring. My heart felt as light as the film of clouds overhead.

“Okay, Luis,” I caught his hand in mine. “Let’s go.”

Thanks to John Catuara, who suggested the name Slade. To Beverly for making me eat healthy. To my family for eating healthy food with me. To the girls of the slog, R and L, and all the folks online who keep me company while I do my job, you’re awesome. For Ralph and his mad PA skills. I can’t thank you all enough.

Z. A. Maxfield
started writing in 2007 on a dare from her children and never looked back. Pathologically disorganized, and perennially optimistic, she writes as much as she can, reads as much as she dares, and enjoys her time with family and friends. If anyone asks her how a wife and mother of four manages to find time for a writing career, she’ll answer, “It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you give up housework.” Her published books include
My Cowboy Heart
,
My Heartache Cowboy
,
Crossing Borders
, Epic Award finalist
St. Nacho’s
,
Drawn Together
,
ePistols at Dawn
,
Notturno
,
Stirring Up Trouble
, and
Vigil
.