Bulldozed (16 page)

“Yeah, Smoke was
really
forceful,” Dolly said sarcastically. “Then Smoke rushed off to track you down, and Alex and I had a romantic dinner with just us two, so at least
our
evening wasn’t a total loss. Maybe one day you’ll get your head out of your ass and smell the coffee.”

Trey checked his cup to see if there was any coffee left and drank some. He made a face. Stone cold.

“If you work on your riding, I’ll work on that,” he muttered.

“You may be a good rider and a damn fine coach, but you’re a lousy boyfriend. But then, I guess you can’t help it, being a man. Peace out.” Dolly stomped out of the room.

Trey heard the engine of Dolly’s truck roar to life. “Why are you still here?”

Alex’s expression softened as she examined his face. “You pay a pretty high price for freedom.” She started for the door.

“Wait, what? What do you mean by that?” Dimly Trey caught the sense of what she meant, but he was too hungover to figure it out for himself.

Alex turned to face him, but he couldn’t see her expression with the light behind her. Her voice was full of compassion, though. “In words of one syllable, you’re afraid to get close to anyone in case you get hurt. That big plan you keep talking about is just an excuse.”

“I thought we were close—you, me, and Dolly.”

“That’s different. We’re safe because we’re girls and you don’t want to have sex with us.”

“Better not let Dolly hear you say girls,” he muttered.

“She knows how I talk. She deals. Besides, neither of us are likely to fall for the charms of any douche billing himself as Rowdy Stetson. And neither is Smoke. He’s done everything but erect a flashing neon sign to tell you he wants you.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We’re talking about Smoke. You walk around bleeding invisibly every time he looks at another man. You may take crazy chances in the ring, but outside you’re as careful as a prissy maiden aunt. You’re free, but you pay for it by missing out on love and trust and intimacy.” Alex stopped and shook her head. “You’re too hungover to remember me telling you this, but you’re screwing up the best thing that ever happened to you.” She came over and put her hand under his chin, forcing him to look up at her. “I hope you wise up, asshole.”

“Love you too,” Trey mumbled, shaken to the core.

“Why the hell do you think Smoke jumps your bones the minute he sees you?”

Startled, Trey stared at her. “I—I don’t know.”

“He must see something he likes. You do a pity fuck once, not for three years steady, every time you see a person.” She held up a hand to forestall him. “I know, I know, you’re not as good-looking as Smoke. Well, love isn’t about looks. It’s about what’s inside, how you feel when you’re with someone. And I can tell Smoke feels good around you.”

Trey’s mouth dropped open. “I—I—”

“Maybe one day it’ll sink in, and I hope it’s not too late when you finally wake up.” She bent down to kiss his forehead. “Tell Smoke we’ll catch him down the road.” Then she left, closing the door and restoring the welcome dimness.

He’d never thought of it as paying a price. He had goals, and Smoke wasn’t part of those. In fact, the competition between them made his feelings about Smoke even more of a stumbling block. Trey had to stay focused on earning enough to make his dreams come true. No room in his life for whatever nonsense Alex was talking about. And Smoke couldn’t possibly—Trey rubbed his aching temples.

“Girly talk.”

“What?” Smoke had opened the door as Trey spoke.

“Nothing. Dolly and Alex said bye.”

“I know, I saw them outside. You got lipstick on your forehead.”

Trey rubbed his forehead vigorously, forgetting he had a headache until it started to throb again.

Smoke looked at him with scant sympathy. “You ready to roll?”

Trey shook his head to clear it. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

COFFEE AND
aspirin worked their miracle. The headache was better now, only an irritant in the background as he climbed behind the wheel. The two horses in the trailer were standing quietly when he looked in at them. They had water and hay, and the drive would only take six hours or so.

Smoke’s pewter-gray Ford pulled out and proceeded to I-35 slow enough for Trey to follow, even though he had good directions. He’d never been to Smoke’s place, and he was curious. He knew Smoke had some kind of ranch.

He rolled down the window so he could hang his elbow out and get some fresh air. When he turned on the radio, his luck seemed to kick in again. They were doing a Cowboy Troy marathon, and “Automatic” was on. He was in the mood for some country rap. Anything to stop replaying Alex’s indictment of his cowardice.

Smoke’s truck was already getting smaller ahead in the distance. Knowing him, Trey should have figured Smoke viewed the world as a race and turned every chore into a competition, but Trey was content to take it slower. Driving an unfamiliar truck with two horses in the back depending on him for a safe ride, he was in no mood to take unnecessary chances.

When they got there, he’d probably have a look around Smoke’s place and then he’d ask for a lift to the station and take the train back home. As he drove by the Fort Worth exit where he usually got off the highway, he thought about his brother and how he would be in his usual snit over the lost weekend, but that was the deal. Had been from the start. Jamar got more than a full week’s work in return for Trey taking weekends off to go to events.

After the weekend of winning and losing, time to return to real life.

HOME. TREY
fought off the instant response. This wasn’t his home, but if he picked one out, it would be like this. It was better than the place he had his eye on at home. From the moment they turned onto the long drive leading up to the house, he liked it.

A whitewashed board fence lined the drive. The single-story ranch was built of wood and stone and surrounded by oak trees. Deep overhangs over the windows were designed to provide shade in the summer and sun in winter.

Set back behind the house was a red barn with horse trailers and a couple of tractors parked by it. The sight of horses placidly grazing in a fenced corral made him smile. Trey might love bulls and ride them for money, but he’d fallen in love with horses first.

He followed Smoke’s truck down a dirt road past the corral to a stream. They unloaded the horses there, and Smoke led them through a gate and down to the water to drink.

The clear water in the shallow creek revealed the pebbly bottom. The stream was lined with old cottonwoods and reflected the blue of the sky and green of the foliage. The light was fading, and the sound of the horses drinking added to the incredible peace that Trey felt.

After Smoke turned the horses into a small corral, Trey followed him back to the barn and parked behind his truck. He expected Smoke would unhitch the trailer and drive him straight to the train station, but no.

First, two men approached them. Both were white, and they pinged his gaydar immediately. Almost as quickly, Trey could tell neither of them were sleeping with Smoke. They gave off that indefinable whiff of couple that showed sometimes between two people who fit together well.

“Welcome home, boss.” The taller one smiled and flicked a curious glance at Trey.

“Thanks, Nils,” Smoke said. “How was the weekend, Jerry?”

“Busy,” the shorter man said. “Weather was real nice. Lotta riders came out. How was the rodeo? Did you win?”

“He beat me.” Smoke nodded at Trey. “Came in second. Trey, this is Nils Berglund and Jerry Lange. Top hands.”

“Trey Stuart,” he said, holding out his hand. “Glad to meet you.”

Nils shook first. “Same here. I’m a big fan of yours. You’re some kind of rider. As good as the boss here. Love watching what you do.”

Trey was surprised that the man even knew who he was. “Thanks.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Jerry added, shaking hands in turn. “Great upper body positioning. Always balanced and under control.”

“Yeah, except when I fall off.” Trey laughed.

“Good to have you home, boss,” Nils said.

“Good to be back.” Smoke grinned at the two men. “And stop calling me boss.”

Nils grinned back. “Sure, boss. Let’s go get some supper, Jerry.”

Trey watched the two men walk toward a small white house beyond the barn. “They work for you?”

“Nah, they just like calling me boss for some dumb reason,” Smoke said.

Feeling foolish for asking the obvious, Trey followed silently as Smoke led him to the house. They went in the front door, and Trey was immediately drawn to the stone fireplace and deep, comfortable chairs sitting in front. One had a hollow in the seat while the other looked as new as if it had never been sat on. The wall of books was a surprise, and made him feel at home. His own trailer was packed with books he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of, even though he was running out of real estate.

“Let me show you around,” Smoke said.

The kitchen was a typical country kitchen, but with all the modern conveniences. The room was spacious and light, with white cabinets and a table in the center. A place where a man could make a meal and eat it in comfort.

Smoke led him deeper into the house, and Trey was impressed when they reached the main bedroom. The room was larger than he’d expected, and the back wall was glass, looking out onto a flagstone patio and a lighted pool. Smoke unlatched the door and slid the glass panels back into a wall pocket, opening the room to the outdoors. The song of bullfrogs and cicadas filled the air.

“Like it?”

“Why, you selling?”

“Could be.” With that cryptic remark, Smoke waved in the direction of the barn. “Nils and Jerry have a house out back that way. Privacy for the help and for me.”

“How many hands?”

“Just Nils and Jerry full-time. They take care of business when I’m off rodeoing on weekends. Sometimes I hire day hands when it’s real busy. I board horses. Offer a little trail riding and do training for horses and riders. Got a little over five hundred acres here.”

“Wow.” Trey thought of his single-wide parked on his brother’s ranch where they couldn’t see each other. “I guess you got it made.”

“In some ways. Austin’s a great place to live, especially if you’re a native son who happens to be gay. Got good neighbors and a nice little business started. When I retire from riding, I can build something great here.”

“Good luck to it,” Trey said. “I’ve got to—”

“You live with your brother, right?”

“On his ranch. I work for him and ride bulls on weekends whenever I can.”

“Ever think about moving to Austin?”

“Never have. Been planning to buy my own spread one of these days.”

“Saving up?”

“That’s why I still ride weekends,” Trey explained. “Even if I don’t win, if I place in the top ten, it’s payday. Top five pays even better, and I keep putting it away until I get enough.”

“You know how much a going ranch costs?”

“Of course I do,” Trey said sharply.

“I don’t know how much you’ve got saved—”

“Almost four hundred grand,” Trey snapped.

Smoke looked surprised. “Wow, you must live tight to the bone.”

“It’ll pay off later.”

Smoke led the way outside and sat in a chair by the pool. He stretched out his legs and clasped his hands behind his head. “You like living with the bro?”

Trey remained standing. He didn’t plan to stay long. “We never got along. When Jamar got married, he towed my trailer behind some trees eight hundred yards from his house so my queerness wouldn’t rub off on his kids. I don’t spend much time with him and his wife. Just work all day and go home at night.” He managed to stop himself from saying alone. He didn’t need Smoke to join his pity party.

“And rodeo on the weekends,” Smoke said in a thoughtful voice. “We’re the same age, thirty-two. Old for bull riders.”

“If we rode in the national league, we’d have quit years ago,” Trey agreed. “Regional rodeos don’t bust you up so much.”

“Don’t get the same caliber bulls. You planning on still riding at forty?”

“Horses, maybe.”

“I got plans for this place,” Smoke continued as if Trey hadn’t spoken. “I could never imagine doing a desk job, stuck in a city. I want to be my own boss on a place that’ll pay for itself.”

“Doesn’t the horse training do that?”

“It pays the bills, but it could be a lot more,” Smoke said. “I’d need a partner.”

Trey gasped. The insistent thud of his heart against his ribs made it difficult to breathe. Smoke couldn’t mean him. “I understand.”

Smoke slapped his arm. “Of course you don’t, you moron. I’ve never met anyone denser than you. I’m asking
you
.”

“Me?” Trey’s knees buckled and he fell heavily onto a handy chair.

“I need a partner. You need a ranch. Seems like a match made in heaven.”

Suspiciously Trey asked, “You inherit this from your parents?”

“Hell no. I did like you, lived in their basement while I saved up to buy a place.” Smoke scowled at Trey. “I didn’t have anything handed to me on a silver platter, so don’t get up on your high horse.”

“Probably had it easier than me.”

“Probably did, but that doesn’t mean I had it easy. Want to know the real reason I don’t ride in the national league?” Smoke didn’t wait for him to answer. “I went up to the national touring division when I was eighteen. Only black rider there. Didn’t even make the top ten.”

“Where’d you come in?”

Smoke grinned. “Placed eleven.” Then his smile faded. “Some of the riders didn’t like that so much, a black guy from nowhere winning their money. A few of them beat the crap out of me after the event.”

Trey stood up, unable to contain his rage. “Damn! Just… damn. I wanna beat the crap out of
them
!”

Smoke shrugged. “Didn’t really hurt any more than most wrecks when you ride.” He looked down at the floor, his jaw tense. “After a few times I got the message. And it’s not good business to keep getting your ass beat outside the ring.”