Hay and Heartbreak (2 page)

Dan finished washing his hands. He turned the tap off and plucked out a few paper towels. Keeping his head down, as if he were watching what he was doing, Dan addressed Edward. “I didn’t know the help from the foundation came with that kinda price tag.”

“It doesn’t,” Edward said, a slight snap to his voice. “I never said it did, just that it’d be helpful if you’d speak out on behalf of the foundation. I’ll still represent you in your suit against the police department and the state regardless of what you do about the foundation. But, please, at least meet with Rick, okay? Can you do that much?”

Dan hated being guilted into anything.
Hated
it, yet he did owe Rick and his foundation. He didn’t want to be the kind of person to walk away when he could do something to help in return.

But giving interviews? Talking about myself? Ain’t much to tell.
Dan had gone to prison right before his eighteenth birthday, tried and convicted as an adult. He guessed he could talk about prison, and keep it as honest a topic as possible without delving too deep. He was going to be a good man, an honest man. That was one of his main goals.

It was a promise he meant to keep. He really needed some time to think. A few more words to Edward, and Dan was able to escape. Edward tried to get him to call Clarence regardless of Dan’s claim to need some time alone, but Dan won out on that argument.

Dan didn’t want to bother Clarence since he had other residents to keep an eye on at the halfway house. There were people who helped him, of course, but Clarence had a lot on his plate, and Dan didn’t like to add to his burdens.

So Dan walked the five miles to the halfway house where he still resided. Though now that he was a totally free man, he’d likely be kicked out of the place.

The thought of that caused another wave of dizziness and sweating, so Dan shoved the fear of being homeless down as deep as he could. He enjoyed the sunlight warming him and the breeze that occasionally gusted over him a little too much.

And he worried, despite his best attempt not to. Birmingham was so much bigger than where Dan had grown up. He felt lost in the city and, on some level, he liked the sensation. In prison, he’d been as invisible as possible, not that it’d done him much good at first. Then once he’d been claimed by Mosh, he’d had a certain amount of protection because of the deal he and Mosh had worked out.

Dan had had a screwed-up relationship with the older, bigger man, but not an uncommon agreement for someone in prison. Mosh had been capable of keeping Dan safe from being raped, beaten or killed—or all three. He’d demanded a fee for it, and Dan had had only one way to pay. It’d been worth it to remain unharmed after he’d been cut by someone else looking to own him.

Every time Dan looked in the mirror or touched the scars on his face, he hated that other man like he hated no one else. There was no escaping what he’d done to Dan. The proof of it was there on Dan’s forehead and cheek.

Dan crossed the last street before the halfway house, or residential re-entry center, as Clarence preferred to call it. The nondescript building was isolated, the only place on the entire block. Clarence had said there’d been a huge fight with some of the people in the neighborhood over putting the center there. Dan understood that. If he’d had a family, he wouldn’t have wanted a bunch of criminals living anywhere near them. Granted, most criminals weren’t living in Samaritan House. They were out on the streets, or living next door, and no one knew any better.

Cynical, that’s what Dan was. He tucked his hands in his jeans pockets and trotted up the steps to the porch. Clarence had the door open and was studying him before Dan topped the last stair.

“So? How’d it go?” Clarence asked.

Dan stopped a couple of feet away from him. “You ain’t talked to my parole officer yet?”

Clarence shrugged. “You know Attie takes a day or two to get back with me on things like this.”

‘Things like this’ being a life-altering event for Dan. “Yeah, well. I don’t have to testify or nothin’. Warren’s been found guilty and bunch of us he arrested are supposed to be exonerated.” Dan wasn’t sure how it’d all work, or why he hadn’t been in the courtroom for Warren’s trial. He didn’t care, since he’d told Edward he didn’t want to ever be in a courthouse again unless he absolutely had to be.

Clarence was smiling like he’d gotten the best gift ever. “That’s great, man! Did he plead guilty or what?”

Dan felt like a total fool. “I don’t know.” Had Edward even said what happened? “I just…just kinda lost it when Edward said I was gonna be free. Really free.” As soon as he said it, Dan was shot through with fear. “Am I— Are you gonna have to kick me out?”

“Not right away, no, but…” Clarence trailed off. He glanced over his shoulder and said something to one of his assistants, then Clarence stepped outside and closed the door.

Dan knew it was going to be bad then.

“Come on. Let’s sit at the picnic table and see what your options are. I promise not to toss you out of here without some support and a place to stay.” Clarence led the way around back to the picnic table where Dan had sat and talked with his brother, Duke, and Duke’s husband, Frankie, a couple of months ago when they’d come out to visit him again.

As if he knew Dan’s thoughts, Clarence said, “You need to call Duke and Frankie, don’t you? They would want to hear this as soon as possible.”

Dan rubbed at his cheek, the scar there itching like it did when he got overly stressed sometimes. He’d been shocked when Duke had actually shown up a year ago and professed to want a relationship with him. When they’d been kids, they hadn’t been the best of friends as brothers, but neither were they enemies.

Then Duke had left, and Dan had ended up in prison, and no one in the family had had shit to do with Dan up until Duke had appeared out of the blue.

No, not out of the blue
. He’d tried calling Dan a few times before that.

Dan shook his head when he realized that Clarence was watching him, waiting for him to speak. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot in my head, you know. I can’t quite grasp this all yet.”

Clarence reached across the table and surprised Dan by taking a hold of his hand. “Is this okay? I’m not coming onto you at all, I promise. If you were going to continue to be a resident, I’d be less likely to offer you physical comfort, but, Dan, you’re a free man, for all intents and purposes. Maybe we have to wait for the official ruling, unless the judge already struck down all the convictions.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” God, he’d been stupid, had just flipped his lid and puked like a fool.

“Don’t blame yourself.” Clarence squeezed his hand. “You’ve got every right to be discombobulated. This is a huge, huge thing.” He looked intently at Dan. “Don’t screw it up.”

Dan wanted to be mad over that, except he couldn’t be. Clarence knew about his past. Dan had talked about it in group therapy and with Clarence a time or two. Addicts had a tendency to return to the drugs they’d used before, Dan knew that. He wasn’t going to let that happen to him, though. He didn’t crave meth like some people did when they gave it up, but he’d been off it for over a decade, and looking back, he wasn’t sure how much he’d wanted the drugs versus how much he’d wanted to fit in somewhere. “I won’t. I don’t want to screw up again.”

“I’ll help you,” Clarence said. “We’ll find you a good support group, try to find you a job. Hell, I can ask if my brother can put you up if you need a place to live. Carlton’s cool, you’d like him.”

“No, it won’t come to that.” Dan was touched by Clarence’s offer, however, and his eyes stung as he blinked back tears. “I don’t want to impose on you or your family. I’ll be okay.” If he did the interviews for the foundation, that might help him get a job—or it might work against him if he came across like an idiot.

Clarence nodded at him. “You damn sure will, because I’ll make certain you’re not tossed out without resources and support. You’re going to make your way in the world, Dan, and you’ll do just fine. Just fine.”

Dan wished he had as much confidence in himself as Clarence did.

Chapter Two

Hector Gallegos finished putting up the tack. “Got it all done, Duke.”

Duke Edmonds wasn’t the foreman at the Mossy G, but Hector, along with most the other ranch hands, looked to him for approval and guidance, much like they did with Salt.

Hector wasn’t working with Salt today, though.

“Yeah? Let me check it over.” Duke smiled at him and Hector didn’t take it as a criticism that Duke was inspecting his work. In fact, he was proud because Duke was going to see just how perfect everything looked in the supply room now.

“Damn,” Duke drawled. “You busted your ass, didn’t ya?”

“If you’re going to do something, do it right. Don’t remember who said that, but those are words to live by,” Hector said, puffing up with pride as he watched Duke glanced admiringly over the tack and supplies. “I absolutely hate cleaning the barn. That doesn’t mean I’m going to do a shit job of it.”

Duke turned to him. “Of course it don’t. You always do your job, Hector, and a little extra. Like you ain’t just passin’ it off as gettin’ by with doin’ the minimum.”

Hector tried not to sneer at the idea of that. “My daddy would have tanned my hide for doing something without putting my all in it. I’m glad I was raised better. Some of the folks you hear about now days, or see just half-assed doing their jobs, you’ve got to wonder what their parents would have to say.”

“Probably learned that kinda behavior from their folks,” Duke said.

Hector had to disagree. “Some parents do everything right and still have rotten kids.” He was glad he sounded like it was an impersonal observation.

Duke closed the door to the tack and supply room. “Yup, sure enough that’s the truth. Workin’ on a ranch, everyone’s gotta pull their weight and put in some extra effort, too, or else they ain’t gonna last. It takes a special sort of person to be a cowboy—or cowgirl.”

“It does.” Hector and Duke went outside. Hector saw Frankie sauntering their way.

Duke stopped and grinned. “Look at him. He’s somethin’, ain’t he? And he’s all mine.” He turned the silver band on his left ring finger. “All mine.”

“Seems like you two are pretty much tied together,” Hector observed. “Legally, even. You know, I’d never thought to see the day when Montana was that progressive. Makes me proud of my home state, when I haven’t always been.”

“Yeah, even Alabama’s got equality now—hell, the whole country does, though some of them politicians sure ain’t givin’ it without throwin’ as big a hissy as possible,” Duke said. “Tellin’ people they don’t have to give out marriage licenses if it’s against their religion an’ all. You’d think they’d get damned tired of bein’ such hateful shits.”

“Some people don’t ever tire of that.” Hector waved at Frankie as he came closer. “Hey, Frankie.”

“Hi, Hector,” Frankie replied, smiling at him, but that smile ratcheted up about a hundred watts when Frankie looked at Duke. “Hey there, hubby.”

“Y’all are gonna give me a toothache, y’all are so sweet,” Hector teased as Duke pulled Frankie into his arms.

“You could use some sweet,” Frankie retorted. “All you ever do is hit it and get gone.”

Hector rolled his eyes. “I should never have talked to you about my private life.” He’d had a moment of weakness a few months back and confessed to Frankie that he was getting tired of going out looking to get laid, and nothing more. “I was drunk when I said that shit, so it doesn’t count.”

Frankie flicked Hector’s arm. “Bullshit. You’d had one beer.”

“It was a
really
strong beer,” Hector protested, trying for his most innocent look.

Duke chuckled. “Give it up, Hector. You done confessed, and Frankie ain’t likely to forget it. Besides, it’s normal for a man to grow up, eventually.”

“Grow up? What the hell’s that got to do with it?” Hector shook his head. “I’ve been grown up long before I was considered an adult, legally.”

“I didn’t mean no harm, so don’t get your tail tied in a knot. Just takes some guys longer to realize there’s more to life and sex than gettin’ off with as many different men as possible,” Duke explained as Frankie eased out of his arms to stand beside him. “It sure seems to me that people use sex as a way to keep a distance between them and others sometimes.”

“That’s not what I do.” Hector waved dismissively at Duke. “There’s nothing wrong with anyone sowing their wild oats before settling down. I didn’t want to miss out on having fun.”

“You don’t want to miss out on findin’ that special person, either,” Duke advised. “The one that makes you feel like the world’s a better place just ’cause you see him, just ’cause you know he’s there for you. I ain’t lecturin’ you, though it may seem that way. I’m just talkin’, is all. There’s people that don’t ever settle down, and that works for them. To each his or her own, right?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Hector was done with the deep conversation, and he was saved from having to think of something else to talk about or a way to excuse himself when Duke’s phone rang.

“Hey, it’s Dan!” Duke said excitedly. “He don’t ever call me first.” He answered the phone.

Hector was curious about Duke’s brother. Up until about a year ago, no one even knew Duke
had
a brother. Then Duke and Frankie had connected, and they’d gone on a vacation of sorts. When they’d returned, Frankie had been more somber for a while and Duke had been talking about a brother.

However curious Hector was, he wouldn’t deliberately eavesdrop. After a nod at Frankie, Hector started for the bunkhouse, then changed his mind. Most of his coworkers would be in the bunkhouse, and it’d be raucous and all, but he wanted a few minutes to himself.

The Montana sky was exceptionally blue, it seemed to him, and there wasn’t a cloud to be seen. Hector loved the land, loved working on a ranch, especially the Mossy Glenn, where he didn’t have to hide who he was. He’d come from generations of ranch hands, and that was all he’d ever wanted to be. When he’d first figured out he was gay, he’d been so angry and scared. Eventually, he’d made peace with it, though he’d kept that part of himself a secret except from his immediate family.