Chapter 23 - Ethan
The last mile stretched forever.
They crested the ridge together—Cole leading, then Ethan, then the rest, Harper and Riley riding side by side, Jack trailing as the self-appointed rearguard.
They topped the final ridge and the view punched the breath from Ethan’s lungs—the valley glimmered, impossibly green and gold, the whole of Walker’s Edge Ranch spread below in orderly chaos—paddocks and barns and out-buildings sprawled.
Cattle dotted the pastures. The familiar sprawl of barns, hay sheds, and the main house glimmered with civilization’s promise—clean beds, showers, the luxuries of modern life.
Civilization’s first signals were subtle—the faint buzz of a generator, the distant clatter of a wheelbarrow, the sharp tang of woodsmoke curling up from the ranch’s main lodge.
They rode single file down the last switchbacks, the air thick with the resinous stink of ponderosa and the dying heat of late afternoon sun, hooves striking sparks from the gravel.
By the time they came level with the first stretch of split-rail fence, the front yard was alive with movement.
Wranglers materialized from the sheds and barns, some with arms folded, others pretending to sweep or haul feed while openly gawking.
A knot of groundskeepers and kitchen staff clustered near the lodge doors, faces upturned, sunlit and expectant.
The bunkhouse porch was crowded with every off-duty hand in a hundred-mile radius.
Even the horses in the nearest paddock watched, ears pricked, as if aware of the gravity of this homecoming.
Someone in the mess tent started a slow clap, then, as if it caught the wind, it surged into a full cheer. It was contagious. Soon the entire yard erupted—yelling, whistling, laughter bouncing off the timber siding. Even the dogs joined in, barking and baying in a canine chorus.
Ethan found himself grinning so wide it hurt.
His thighs ached, his face was sunburned, he reeked of days-old sweat and maybe just a whiff of Cole’s own scent, but he was happier than he’d ever been.
He could taste the sweat and dust and, beneath it all, something electric—the knowledge that he’d survived.
More than survived—he’d come back changed, and soon, the whole world would know it.
Cole led them straight to the main barn.
He dismounted in a single, fluid movement and was at Ethan’s side before he’d even swung his own leg free.
For a second, they were close—too close for the onlookers, probably, but neither man cared.
Cole put his hand on Ethan’s lower back, grounding him, and then, with zero warning, whispered “welcome home” against Ethan’s ear.
Ethan went hot. Hearing Cole say that made him feel primal, his heart fluttered, butterflies swirled in his stomach.
He wanted to drop to his knees right then and there for Cole.
The growing urge to submit—to be the most submissive man in the world for Cole while in the bedroom, grew stronger and stronger as time went by.
Cole kept his hand there as they stripped the tack.
A couple of the hands—old timers with leathery faces—watched from the barn doors, exchanging looks but saying nothing.
The only tell was the way one of them elbowed the other when Cole leaned in and kissed the side of Ethan’s neck, quick and casual, like he’d been waiting a lifetime to make it normal.
Ethan reached for the bridle, hands shaking a little now that the adrenaline had nowhere to go. He felt Cole’s presence at his side, the warmth of him, the scent of leather and sweat and woodsmoke that had already imprinted itself as a kind of home.
“You okay?” Cole asked, voice lower now, like it was just the two of them.
“Yeah. The best I have ever been actually.”
Cole reached up and traced his thumb along Ethan’s jaw, slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing it. “Good,” he said, smiling with his eyes this time. “I was worried you’d run the second we got back to civilization.”
“Not a chance in hell.” Ethan tried not to care that they were in full view of an audience—the barn doors had become a stage, and the crowd was eating it up.
Cole stepped in. He half-expected Cole to freeze, to back away, but instead Cole reached for Ethan’s chin, turned it up, and kissed him—slow, deliberate, the kind of kiss that emptied Ethan’s head of everything but sensation.
It only lasted a heartbeat, then Cole stepped back, all business again. “I’ll meet you back at the lodge in few minutes,” he said, already heading for the workroom, whistling a bar of some old ranch ballad.
Ethan nodded, too dizzy to speak. He could feel every set of eyes on him, but also a new, invisible insulation—he didn’t care anymore. He belonged, if not to this place, then at least to this moment, and to Cole.
The rest of the group unsaddled in a flurry of efficiency. Jack pulled the packs from his horse, swore about the state of his ass, then tossed the gear onto a bench. “Drinks. Then showers. In that order,” he said, already limping toward the lodge.
“I’m way ahead of you.” Harper called over her shoulder, already halfway to the lodge.
Riley hung back, eyeing Ethan with a look that mixed mischief and genuine affection.
He came up next to Ethan, “I just wanted to say one more time that I’m proud of you.
” Then he lowered his voice to a whisper.
“More importantly, I expect a full report on the cowboy’s equipment after you ride it, if you catch my drift. ” He winked.
Ethan laughed then rolled his eyes. Riley clapped him on the back, “Hey, walk with me. I need to talk to you for a second.”
Ethan nodded.
They detoured behind the tool shed and Riley doubled check to make sure they were out of sight. Riley’s expression was uncharacteristically serious. “Can I offer one last bit of advice?”
“Hit me,” Ethan said.
“You’re going to need lube. Lot’s of it.”
Ethan laughed. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
“I mean it. First time can be rough. Especially with a guy Cole’s size.”
“Where do I even begin, I’ve—?”
Riley waved it off. “Just trust me.” Riley handed Ethan a bottle of palm-sized lube, it was heavy and still cool from wherever it had been stashed.
“Use a lot. More than you think you’ll need.
Shower, get cleaned up, maybe shave if that’s your thing.
Also, and this is very important, make sure that you stretch yourself beforehand.
It’ll hurt less and if you do it right then it should make it feel really good. ”
Ethan’s face was bright red. “Wow. Thank you, I appreciate it. I was nervous about it and had no clue where to start.”
Riley grinned. “You’re welcome. Oh, remember to breathe and relax as much as you can, especially when he is first penetrating you. Don’t overthink it, and most importantly, enjoy it!” He gave Ethan a big hug and then disappeared off to his cabin, whistling a tune off-key.
Ethan looked at the bottle. The label looked fancy. He pocketed it, feeling excited, nervous and grateful.
He walked back up to the cabins. Everything was almost surreal after being out in the wilderness for so long—the light, the sounds, unfamiliar voices carrying up from nearby. The world seemed brighter, sharper, the air full of strange new possibilities.
He could see Cole moving between the barn and the tool shed, barking orders at the hands, but even from a distance the way Cole moved was different—loose, happy, like a man who had finally found the key to his own shackles.
He stood there, watching Cole for a moment longer, then peeled off toward his own cabin and slipped inside.
Ethan let the door fall shut behind him, just a little too hard, so the solid oak thunked and echoed through the timber bones of the cabin.
The room was exactly as he’d left it days before, except now it felt impossibly different, softer, more golden in the afternoon sun, like it was already pre-warmed for a new life.
He set his pack on the floor and the lube on the nightstand.
He stared at it, then laughed at himself.
He couldn’t believe he was nervous about this.
He peeled off his shirt, the fabric sticking to his back, sweat-dried and grimy, the collar stiff with salt.
By the time he stripped down to nothing, a tingling spread through his limbs—not quite adrenaline, not quite fear, but something he'd never felt before.
A nervous, giddy expectation that made him feel more alive than anything ever had.
He dumped the trail clothes in a pile by the door and padded barefoot to the bathroom. The shower was a revelation after days on the trail—oversized with real stone tile and a giant waterfall head, the kind you'd find at a five-star resort, not a ranch in the middle of nowhere.
He caught his own reflection. He paused, studying himself.
The man looking back was different. Not just wilder from the trail, but open somehow, stripped of all the subtle defenses he'd spent a lifetime building.
The sun had bronzed his skin, his beard shadow grown thick, but what struck him most was the unmistakable look in his eyes—he was happy.
Standing there naked, Ethan realized he was nervous but he wasn’t scared, not even of the pain.
He wanted it—he wanted to be taken, he wanted to give himself up completely to Cole.
He wanted to get used by Cole. He wanted Cole to take his anal virginity, to own every inch of him, to dominate him.
Ethan was ready to submit. There was nothing else in the world that he wanted more than that.
As he stepped into the shower and let the hot water cascade over him, washing away the trail dust but none of the anticipation, Ethan smiled. Tonight would be the first night of his real life.