Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
Treat met Jake for lunch, and he could tell something was off right away. Jake had the dazed look of a man who had just lost his best friend or his dog.
Or both.
He stood facing Jake, looking him over with a critical eye. “What’s wrong?” he asked right away.
“I lost my sponsor.” Bald and raw as anything. Damn.
“Oh, shit.” Treat moved a little closer. “What can I do?”
“Don’t ask me anything else here, okay? I’m trying to be cool.”
“Okay. Okay, come on. We’ll get lunch.”
“I’m riding tonight,” Jake blurted. “I guess word got around. They offered me a spot where someone pulled out.”
Treat nodded. “Sounds great. You’ll get your ride done and then we can go have TexMex.”
“Sounds fine.” But Jake didn’t look fine. He looked like he was gonna barf.
“Babe, do you want to go back to the hotel for a bit?”
“God, I don’t know what I want. Just give me a second.” Jake stared at him like he was fixin’ to have a complete and utter meltdown. “Okay, you know what? You just drove all the way out here. Let’s go look at cattle.”
Treat sighed. “Okay, babe. I hate that you’re hurting.”
“I hate I got fired. I hate that I’m getting old. I hate that my body’s not what it used to be, and that I never made the big leagues. I hate that, no matter how much I fucking try, I’m never going to be enough to actually contribute and be the guy that I need to be for you. But you know what? That doesn’t really matter, does it?” Jake’s voice was flat. Not even angry, just the sort of resigned deadness.
And it made Treat want to scream. “What the hell does that mean? Seriously, what does it mean?”
Jake was exactly what he wanted. It wasn’t like the son of a bitch was going to be a kept man or something. There was always work. They always had work to do.
Was it so much to ask to have Jake work with him instead of against him?
“It means I’m having a fucking pity party. It means that I honestly thought she was gonna offer me a contract for another three years, and then I was going to have to think about it. See whether or not I have thought I was really gonna be riding for another three years, or whether or not I was gonna hook my wagon to yours. But instead, I got a final paycheck and one more ride with my sponsor shirt on. That’s what it means.”
Treat had gotten lost back somewhere when Jake said, “hitch my wagon to yours”. That really seemed to just stop the entire conversation.
“Can we go look at cattle now? What is it you’re hunting?”
Treat couldn’t help himself. He tilted his head, fluttered his eyelashes and said, “Moo cows.”
Jake’s eyes flashed. “I’m not in the mood, man. I will beat your ass down. I’m serious, what the fuck are you looking for in livestock?”
Super adult angry Jake was actually kinda hot.
“Well, like I said, I need some calves, and I want a couple of good breeding cows. And I want to see a guy about a horse, too.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Going to see a man about a horse?” That earned him a little bit of a laugh. “Good thing you’re pretty. Is it a special horse or do you just want a horse?”
Treat shrugged, and his cheeks heated, but he didn’t deny anything. He could have hobbies. “This guy has got a good line of draft horses.”
“Draft horses? Really?”
Treat rolled his eyes, but he had to nod. “I know, I know. It seems odd, but I think it would be cool to get a team of draft horses and train them up. I could do teams of six and teams of four.” He felt himself warming to the topic. “I tell you what, there’s some neat competitions out there. And let’s be honest, there’s not a lot of draft horses where we are.”
“That would be because there’s no hay where we are. We live in the desert.” Jake stopped himself, cheeks going pink. “I mean you, you live in the desert.”
“Yeah, but it’s the high desert, and I got money, and I want horses.”
They started walking again, skipping the food court and heading into the animal barns. Treat loved that, how Jake was a cowboy like him, how the livestock eased their pain, the scent of hay and critters familiar as breathing.
“You still running mustangs?”
“You know it. I have two separate herds, two good, strong stallions. They’ve got about ten mares each, and I’m fixin’ to cull the herds and bring them into a third. I think I got me a young stallion that can do his job and do it well. I’m leasing some BLM land just for that purpose.” Treat believed in wild mustangs. He believed in what they meant to this country, to this space, to New Mexico. He believed that the world was a better place with wild horses in it, so he tried to mess with them as little as possible. He just went in to make sure everybody had their shots and to make sure that everybody had enough food. It had started out with one herd and now he was going to have three. Beautiful, wild, magical creatures. He could watch them for days.
Jake smiled at him, nodded. “There you go. I like it. I think you’d be happy as hell, building a team of driving horses. You could show them off at fairs and such.”
“That’s my thought. Start with a stud, a gelding, and two mares, see what it brings me. It’s an investment, sure, but?—”
“It’s your money, Treat. You ought to enjoy it.”
“Yeah, I guess so. At any rate, I need a few more calves, just to open up the bloodlines.” He chuckled. “I feel like a rich bitch, you know? But it’s what I want.” He glanced around. “And I love looking at the weird cows too. You know?”
“Well, I will trail along behind and watch.”
“Have you ever thought about investing in a calf or two?”
“Of course I have.” Jake kind of hid in his shoulders for a second, then held one hand out. “But I mean, what am I going to do with them? It’s not like I can take them home to my folks’ place. I burned that bridge pretty severely.”
“Yeah.” He’d been there, actually, for that. He’d sort of been the match to that particular flame. Or if not the match, he was the gasoline. “I’m still sorry about that.”
“I’m not. I needed a reason. I needed out, and I was going to escape one way or the other.” Jake just shook his head. “I mean, seriously, how much time can you spend trying to love somebody who doesn’t love you back.”
“Well. I guess I’d spend a lot of time on you. But that’s just me.”
“You know I’m not talking about you.”
He nodded his head. He knew.
He knew, and he was sorry about Jake’s parents.
He had been lucky. His parents hadn’t even so much as flinched when he came out. They hadn’t been surprised. They hadn’t asked him to become anybody he wasn’t. They hadn’t told him he was going to hell or asked him where their grandbabies were going to come from.
Nothing.
The only thing they’d ever asked him was if he was going to bring home his boyfriend.
“So, weird cows. Are you talking weird like miniature, weird like Highland, weird like Longhorn? Or weird like Beefalo?”
He chuckled soft. “I’ve been thinking about running buffalo.” They were dangerous as shit, and not domesticable, but he could sell the sons of bitches for some good money, and they looked cool as hell. “The question is could we get them loaded.”
“No shit. Well, that’s your choice. I mean, I’m assuming you’re talking American bison and not water buffalo.”
Look at Jake acting like a grown-up cattleman. What the hell?
“What do you know about buffalo versus bison?”
“Believe it or not. I met this girl, in…oh shit. I think eastern Colorado up near the Wyoming line. I was riding a rodeo there, and she was working in sports medicine. She and her husband had a ranch, and they ran water buffalo. I shit you not. We were laughing because American bison are like super, super big herds up there, and everyone calls them buffalo, and she ran damn water buffaloes.”
“Did she make cheese or something?” He’d heard about buffalo mozzarella…
“Yes! They made cheese and this thing called kefir. It was…there was an odor.”
“I bet. There’s a stank to it.” Treat had to grin. “I mean bison. Like mustangs, I think they need to be able to roam.”
“That’s what’s in their fuzzy souls. They roam, like the song says.”
“So philosophical.” He winked, glad that Jake was on a more even keel.
“Shut up.” Jake rolled his eyes. “I know I’m just a dumb roughstock guy, but I know how to do things. You know, I come in contact with lots of folks too.”
Treat liked that a hell of a lot, this newfound confidence that Jake had, where he kind of stood up for himself a little bit. Good for him.
That worked for Treat.
“Nobody ever said you were dumb,” he growled. “So what’re your thoughts? American bison or water buffalo?”
“I can’t see you out there, milking you a buffalo.” Jake was barely keeping the laughter under control.
“No, I wouldn’t even make you do that. That’s what I hire drovers for.” Treat did have to grin about that, though. “I don’t know, I think maybe I’ll talk to my guy, first. I got a foreman at the ranch now. He’s real smart, got a good family. Hell, his kids are in school, even. He seems like he’s going to stick. I think that it’s only fair that I talk to him before I get buffalo—bison—American bison. I don’t want buffalo. Like the water kind with the cheese.”
Lord, he’d lost his damn mind.
“I think that sounds real fair,” Jake said, offering him a nod as they wandered. They were passing the fancy poultry cages, and God help him, those chickens with the feathered feet were just a joke from the good Lord Himself. “I mean, especially if it’s gonna be him and his cowboys that are in danger, because the bison are not something to fuck around with. He takes the risk, he ought to get a say in it.”
Damn, look at his rodeo man being all serious. This felt like a whole new side to Jake—something challenging and smarter than… Not smarter than he knew Jake was, because he always believed that Jake was just kind of playing the happy-go-lucky goofball, but maybe smarter than Jake thought he was. Definitely more intense.
“Yeah, I agree. Sounds like, you know somebody who got hurt.”
Jake glanced at him, then turned his attention to a turkey that was the size of a small moon. “No, sir, I know somebody who died.”
He blinked, less shocked that someone died than how damn mad Jake sounded all of the sudden. “Shit. Who?”
“Cowboy, obviously.” Jake rolled his eyes, then sucked in a deep breath. “Collin was a fair roper, loved the roping pen. Had a horse called Trigger that he won in a poker game, hand to God.” Jake’s smile seemed as if it hurt to make. “Collin’s calling was to be a bulldogger, though. Watching him fly off that horse was a fine thing, and he earned a couple three good purses even. But he was like all of us. His knees hurt, he wanted steady money. He really started to focus more on his ranch work.”
“I understand that, babe. It’s the way it goes.”
“You know it.” Jake shook his head, rubbed the back of his neck. “He got married, had babies, the whole nine yards, and he decided he was going to get bison. He was out in the pasture trying to load—it’s always trying to load them up. One of the big males just decided he wasn’t going to have it and trampled him into the dirt, stepped on his head and?—”
Oh, sweet Jesus. He felt about as green as Jake looked.
“He was gone before the guys that were helping him could get around. It was just—” Jake stopped, shook his head. “It was bad, man. Closed casket and all bad. His fucking kids were there in the house. That’s some scary shit.”
He wanted to hug Jake, hold him tight. “I hear you. So yeah, I will absolutely talk to Galen. He says no, then we won’t even entertain it.”
“Sounds good to me. Let’s go look at the miniature animals?” Jake’s eyes were shimmering, but not a single tear fell. Cowboys died. That was the way it worked. They died and all their entry fees were paid. It was the way of things. “They’re crazy. The yaks, I swear to God. If I could think of a single reason to have a miniature yak—and I cannot think of a single reason to have a miniature yak—my happy ass would have a miniature yak.”
Miniature yaks. Holy hell. Well, if Jake wanted one, he was going to have one. Treat would look into it.
He grinned. “Miniature. So like dwarfism bred in?”
They headed for the cattle barns, and Treat thought, maybe afterward he’d get his cowboy to eat. Jake would need all his strength to make a good ride tonight.