Aubrey
Today was the day.
June fifteenth. Hoyt’s fortieth birthday.
We were heading to Oklahoma to get Adobe. I was bouncing around the house like a hyperactive shrew. A glorious Saturday lay ahead and I couldn’t wait to do this for Hoyt!
So I guess our vows of celibacy have been tossed aside?
Yes, they have. I am no longer bound in the robes of an acolyte. I have cast off my fears and shall revel in the arms of the man I love forevermore. Fare thee well, abbot!
Even if we had rolled out of bed at three in the morning for an early start. Knox men were nothing if not known for getting up with the chickens. Farm living and all that…
This was perhaps the most difficult secret I had ever kept.
My propensity to talk all the time plus my adoration of Hoyt made it so hard to not spill the beans.
He’d been odd lately, not exactly sad but…
unsettled I suppose. My man, my love, my sexy bull rider—I did not have falling head over heels for a reticent cowboy on my bingo card for this year or any other—was seeking solitude even more frequently than usual.
Perhaps it was due to the loss of his father but I thought not.
If anything, Abel’s passing seemed to have given the Knox brothers a new lease on their lives, and their relationships.
Yet Hoyt was distant. Knowing we all required time to just be at one with ourselves, I gave him all the time he needed and then some.
Whatever it was that he was gnawing on he would either work out on his own or come to me, probably as we lay tight together in my bed, in the wee hours of the night.
Those moments in the dark with a fan and two cats in our bed were frequent now.
His thoughts tumbling out on subjects varied and sometimes frivolous.
It occurred to me after the fourth time he rolled to me to whisper about some random thing he’d seen on the internet that this man had never had this before.
He’d never once had a lover he could share inane things with as they cuddled in bed.
So when he stirred me to wakefulness with a comment, concern, or just an observation, I curled up tight to him and let him talk to me as long as he wished.
Many times he would drift off, his arm resting on my hip, sometimes we would fiddle about sexually, and just the other night we ended up outside looking at the sky as he went on about shooting stars.
We didn’t see one but that hour seated on the grass as the chickens snoozed in their coop was precious to me.
They all were. Which was why when he returned home from rehab I always plastered on a cheery face.
This time with him was growing short. He would soon be able to return to the rodeo.
And I would be here in Chance wondering how I would ever recover from this second heartbreak. The first one had nearly done me in…
The rattle of a horse trailer being pulled by a truck with some exhaust problems broke into my worries. Today was going to be amazing. Tomorrow was a day away. Just call me Annie.
Racing to the front door, I bounded outside, dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that read Bull Riders have a lot of meat between their legs which was quite true.
Hoyt had done a classic spit-take the first time I’d worn it around the house.
Then he had peeled it off me, much to my delight and used his calloused hands to get us both off.
Jesse was driving and Hoyt was just exiting the truck when I arrived at the passenger door with my travel bag of snacks, some suntan lotion, and a grin.
“Hey, handsome men,” I gushed, climbing up into the cab then got myself settled on the torn bench seat. “This is so exciting. I’ve never been to a horse auction before.” I peered over my shoulder at the pink trailer we were pulling. “Is that big enough for horses?”
“We’re just looking for a couple new trail horses,” Jesse fibbed as I buckled my seat belt then wiggled over to make room for Hoyt.
There was no auction. We were headed to see Mr. Ken Langdon to purchase Adobe back for Hoyt.
We’d split the cost of the horse and would divvy up gas expenses on the fourteen-hour ride.
A night in a hotel near where Ken Langdon lived was on the docket tonight.
Tomorrow morning we’d set out for Snow Creek Ranch with that red roan horse in the back.
“Our other trailer, the bigger one, has a flat tire.” That was true but only because Jesse had let the air out of it last night so we could load Adobe into the trailer he remembered.
“Two max,” Hoyt announced as he tugged the dirty buckle out from under the seat then snapped his belt into place. “Not sure why we have to make this trek to Oklahoma when we have a sale barn on the other side of Boulder.”
I shot a look at Jesse who was all sorts of cucumber-cool, his cowboy hat riding low on his brow, his fingers tapping the wheel. Why wasn’t Hoyt driving? Was his shoulder acting up? He had been hitting rehab workouts at home hard. In a hurry to get back to the bulls and chaps. I pouted internally.
“Because there’s a breeding mare up for sale for a good price. Great confirmation, calm temperament, proven broodmare. Black and white pinto.” Jesse gave me a look to which I nodded vigorously.
“Also, there’s a bookshop in Tuttle that has a set of Thomas Moore works.
Lovely set. Good in boards. They’re holding it for me on an offer of a hundred dollars which, as we all know, is a marvelous price for a hardcover vintage collection!
I get all swoony over ‘Love’s Young Dream’ every time I read it. ”
“I knew that was a good price. Didn’t you, Hoyt?” Jesse asked as we left Chance in the rearview. I caught the glimmer of mischief in his eye.
“Funny you should say that. I was just saying to Gunner the other day I’d give my eyetooth for a collection of Thomas Moore poems in a hundred dollar collection.”
“You two are being goobers.” I played at being upset then laughed as I looked right at Hoyt. “You told me the other night when I read some of his romantic works to you in bed that his words made your—”
“Yeah, we don’t need to go into details with my baby brother in the truck.” Hoyt was quick to cut that conversation down.
Which opened things up to get away from the fib and start chatting about something else.
There were a million topics to discuss with these two fine gents.
I’d even closed the shop—first time ever on a Saturday, my best sales day—to come on this trip to reunite two old friends.
I’d come prepared for the journey. Snacks, drinks, hand wipes, and points of conversation to last us all the way to Oklahoma and back.
I’d not been a scout as a young boy for nothing.
We arrived in the town of Jolly’s Creek in beautiful Oklahoma at five in the afternoon exhausted beyond belief.
Why sitting in a vehicle wears a person out so badly I can’t say but it does.
The long-legged cowboys were even more stiff and surly than I, as I could at least tuck my feet under my ass.
I’d done my level best to keep them hydrated, fed, and entertained.
Much like one does children on a long road trip.
I kept that thought to myself even when they were super cranky towards the end of the drive.
They bickered back and forth then would tease, laugh, poke more fun, and bicker.
It was fascinating as an only child to sit between the two siblings—half-brothers as well as being estranged for years—and listen to their banter.
They picked at each other yes but deep down you could feel the love they held for the other.
That affection was easy to see and growing each day.
The heavy toxic boot of Abel had been lifted from their throats.
They could breathe. They could be who they were.
And it had freed them in ways I was sure they didn’t even realize.
It was heartwarming, even when the bickering had a little bite to it.
“Christ, my back is tied into knots,” Jesse moaned as we neared Red Horizons Ranch.
I knew we were close because Jesse had given me a wink and a chin wag toward a signpost signaling the ranch was coming up as Hoyt had been burrowing about in my survival bag for another packet of toaster pastries.
They’d gone through two boxes so far on top of a speedy rush through a fast food drive-thru at lunchtime.
I was nibbling on some cold chicken nugs at dinner time, guarding them like a dog does a bone from the starving cowpokes on either side of me.
Stopping to piddle had happened once. Once!
And we all checked the tires then were hurried back into the truck.
Jesse’s foreman nature came to the fore a few times but that pee break was the man in charge cracking the whip.
The turnoff for the ranch appeared on the left, Jesse spying it first then glancing at me.
“See if you can find a packet of those little yogurt coated raisins, would you?” I asked my man ever so sweetly.
“Okay,” Hoyt mumbled, bent forward with his head resting on the dented glovebox. We found the drive, and the hand-painted sign just as Jesse hit a pothole. Hoyt cussed vibrantly. “Think you can try to miss a few of them? The suspension on this old girl ain’t great.”
“No shit,” Jesse countered, rolling his shoulders forward as we turned off a two lane blacktop into a thin dirt driveway.
Hoyt sat up, silver packet in hand, to toss his brother a flat look. “If you would have let me drive to break up how long you were behind the wheel your back wouldn’t be so tight.”
“You don’t know the way,” Jesse argued.
“I know how to use Google Maps,” Hoyt replied with fire.
Thankfully, we’d reached our destination. Even the most loving sibling got testy after twelve hours in a hot truck cab.
“Oh, so you do know how to use a cell phone. Noted.”