The Field

 

“Howdy.” The woman called out to J.

Dry mouthed, J. could only wave at her.  The woman had on a white western shirt with grey stripes; the sleeves rolled up on the forearms and the snaps unbuttoned down to about mid-torso.  Underneath, the woman wore a white cotton tank shirt that was just beginning to show signs of sweat in the cleavage.  Though the shirt was big and billow on the girl J. could tell that underneath she had a real good figure.  Especially, the way that the girls Gold Rush jeans hugged what were obviously horsewoman’s legs; strong, firm, rigid.

Coming face to face with J.  She could see the woman dim sun freckles across her nose and cheeks, and a set of two beautiful slate blue eyes underneath thick curly lashes.

“You J.? “ the girl asked?

J. only nodded.

“I’m Tracy.” The woman said extending her hand.  Automatically, J. wiped her damp with nervous sweat hands on her jeans, even though they were gloved. 

Tracy’s grip was strong and the definition in her peach fuzz haired forearms showed as she grasped J.’s extended hand.

“J.” J. stated at a loss for words and then felt the immediate hot embarrassment flare up in her as she realized that she had already stated in one form who she was.

Tracy smiled, nodding her head.  Her right cheek creasing into a dimple and faint laugh lines forming around her eyes.

I was told that I’d find you out here.

“Johnny?” J. said, wishing her brain would soon start working in more than monosyllabic statements.

“Oh, ya.  He took a fall from a bull last Sunday.  Got his arm stepped on, so delivery is out for him.  Inventory is still on his agenda, much to his chagrin.” Tracy winked and J. felt her stomach drop another floor down in her belly.

“You’re new?” Good two words.  We’re getting there.

“Somewhat.”  Tracy said.  “I live over in Harper and have been doing inventory unloading for Ken for a couple of years.  With Johnny not able to deliver, Ken asked me to step in.  Works out well to earn the extra money.  So where you want this stuff?”

J. directed Tracy to the storehouse and helped her unload.  Catching an eye every now and then on the ease that this woman turned and moved.  J. could tell she was woman who knew her way around hard work, and had no problem with it.

After unloading, J. and Tracy moved to J.’s office, so she could sign off on the delivery and mark the invoice number in her books.  She have Jansen add in the item number later.  Taking note of the pictures on the wall.

“These from PWR.” Tracy asked pointing to the bronc riding picture.

J. hesitated.  She had never before been hesitant about answering that question before, but Tracy was new.  What did she know of Capital Star?

“Or a GRA association?”

J. outwardly sighed.  Relieved that this woman let her know that she was knowledgeable.

“OGRA. ‘97” J. said, then let out a short laugh. “The ribbons are for PRCA and PWR.  But the only ribbon I’ve yet to win in gay rodeo is wild drag.”

“I noticed.” Tracy nodded to the ribbon. “I’ve done Wild Drag myself a few times and done barrels, but have never done anything rough stock.  I admire you.  Were there more pictures?” she added, noticing the pales spots on the wall.

“I took ‘em down.” J. said a little shortly, and began closing up the books in a fluster.

“Oh.” Was Tracy’s only response. “Well, I got to get on with the deliveries.”

“Ya,” J. added walking toward her and holding out the invoice.  As Tracy took it there bare hands bushed against each other.  J. felt a jump up her arm at the softness of this woman’s skin.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around more.” Tracy said somewhere between a statement and a question.  J. only nodded. “Have a good day.” Tracy added touching the brim of her hat.  J. returned the girl’s respect. 

As Tracy left the office J. shut the door behind her and leaned on it for strength.  Why was she feeling all this now?  This excitement, quilt, pleasure, nauseating nag of conscience. For years J. had never felt anything expect the cold absence.  Why this now, and what…what would Rhonda feel about this?

 

The Riverbank

 

Chase turned Sedona to the left and eased her into the woods, turning her with his tight muscular calf.  Chase loved his Saturday mornings; ranch work was done for the week, and though Cin was rustling up around at this hour, most of the cowboys would be asleep.

He took a deep breath.  Taking in the scent of the early morning; new, clean, not yet made heavy by the heat of the day.  A Fork-tailed Flycatcher was singing her song and here and there a brown squirrel scampered getting ready for the upcoming fall.

A noise over in the trees brought Chase’s attention to his right.  In the distance a deer stood frozen, examining chase with his big black eyes.  The deer’s lips moved after a moment chewing whatever greenery it had taken, then, paused.  Another moment and it was decided that Chase meant no harm and on it plodded, dipping its head, chewing, looking at the path ahead.

Sedona gave out a snort and Chase turn his attention back to the clearing ahead and the dip that lay just beyond it leading to the river.  Heartened Chase let his heels into Sedona and obligingly she began to gallop.  Chase gave her a kick or two more to pick up speed in the clearing and then just as the rise came into view, Chase leaned back in the saddle.  Below the hoofs of Sedona lay nothing by rain washed gravel and dirt leading down to the river.  Chase felt the pleasurable moment of suspended gravity as he and his horse floated for a moment before Sedona’s hoofs hit earth again.  Down, down, down she galloped.  Chase his left arm out and behind him felt every rhythmic jolt going up his pelvis, through his torso and out the tips of his fingers.  It was in this moment that he felt alive.

Sedona’s hooves pounded against the angled exposed earth, galloping down to where the land leveled out at the stream.  Instinctively she turned to her left, and Chase smiled at the knowledge that his horse had of her riders wished.  It was a smile that was soon to fade for as Sedona galloped along the streams edge, Chase noticed a figure stooped down at the water.  At hearing Chase and the horse, the figure straightened up tall into an all too familiar figure.

Suppressing the urge to just trample over the figure, Chase reined Sedona to a stop.  Indignant at her morning run being brought to an abrupt halt.  Sedona snorted and shook her head.

“Good Morning, again, Chase.” Lewis stated smiling.

“My morning’s spoiled.” Chase said, dropping off from his horse.  Knowing that Sedona wouldn’t go to far he let the reigns drop to the ground.

“Awww.  What a shame.” Lewis said with a touch of sarcasm mixed in with the pleasure of know that it was he who was able to ruin something Chase was enjoying. “Perhaps, fishin’ ‘id cheer ya up.” He added thumbing back to the pole he had lodged in the streambed.

“Is that what you’re doing here?”

After a pause “Just enjoying this fine morning.” Breaking out into a grin. “Same as you.  I recall that Saturday mornings are what you loved best.  The free ride with Sedona, being out in the open.  It still give you that feeling of--”

“I don’t appreciate you popping in unannounced.  I don’t appreciate you popping in at all, but a man’s gotta live with some things.  I sure don’t appreciate you manhandling my hands either.”

“Something you prefer to do yourself, I know.”

Chase rolled his lips and turned his head to the left.  Looking at the embankment.

“What’s the matter, Chase.  Did I hit a nerve?  Feel a little guilty…ashamed—“

Chase pulled back his fist and kangaroo punched Lewis in the face, snapping back his head.

Lewis touched his top lip, which was now bleeding, “Ooo, I did hit a nerve.”

“Those days are long over, Lewis.”

Lewis walked up so that he was eye to eye with Chase. “But my hate for you, isn’t.”

Chase stared at him coolly for a moment. “Then we know just how we feel about each other.”

Having enough, Chase walked back over to Sedona who was now taking drinks from the stream.  Climbing on her, Chase turned her towards the other side of the river and with a “hyah.”, splashed through the water and to the other side placing distance between himself and Lewis.

Lewis watched a Chase as he rode away, saying to himself “We always have.”

 

Chase’s Bedroom

 

Jansen climbed the back stairs up to Chase’s bedroom.  Opening the closet door he took and placed the black colored shirt on the rack. He stopped to think a moment; should he leave the plastic from the dry cleaners on?  He did want to have Chase know that he didn’t just return it all smelling from his night of whatever Chase might have thought his night was, which it certainly was not.

As Jansen stood distracted in thought he made no notice that Rickett was standing in the bedroom door behind him.  Stunned at the sight of Jansen was standing in his and Chase’s bedroom.

Jansen decided that it’d be better to leave the plastic on.  In fact it’d be better to leave the shirt on the bed.  That way Chase would know that he returned the shirt without him having to tell him.  Taking the shirt back out of the closet, he was stopped by Rickett’s question.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jansen turned to face a wide eyed Rickett.  Knowing Rickett didn’t like him already, he’d been caught where he may not supposed to be, he hesitated, but only briefly. “I’m just returning this shirt.”

Rickett walked over to the bed and instinctively Jansen moved away.

“Where’d you get this?”

“Chase gave it to me.”

“GAVE it to you?”

“Lent,” Jansen corrected. “I meant lent.”

Rickett turned in bewilderment to the shirt, trying to puzzle it all out in his head.  Taking Rickett’s silence for acceptance and not wanting to stay in a room with man who didn’t like him, Jansen turned to go back down the stairs.  After a moment of realization, Rickett followed him down. “How did you get it?” he called.

Jansen did not respond, but walked on and out into the yard.

“Hey, hey.” Rickett jogged up behind him and grabbed him by the arm to spin him around.

Reflexively Jansen pulled his arm from Rickett’s grasp.

“I said how did you get it?” Rickett repeated.

“I told you Chase lent it to me.”

“You said he gave it to you first.”

“For the night and then I gave it back to him.”

For the night registered in Rickett’s brain.

“That’s Chase’s favorite shirt.” He said.

“I know.”

“You KNOW?”

“He told me.”

Shocked hurt and bewildered, Rickett felt that old monster creep up from his gut, sending his heart raging and transferring that energy down to his fist which struck out at Jansen’s face.

Jansen turned with the blow and before he could get the full words of “what was that for?” Rickett’s charged himself into Jansen’s midsection, taking him down to the ground.

Pain shot up through Jansen’s shoulder as he hit the hard earth, with this man on top of him, flailing punches at his head, chest, back and stomach, landing few here and there, where Jansen could not block them.

Jansen reached around Ricketts waist with his left leg and grabbed him with his free arm, turning both men over and over in the dirt. 

Rickett grabbed a fist full of Jansen’s shirt to get a better hold on him and as Jansen stood up the t-shirt tore down the collar.  Ricketts own shirt was had snapped open down to the waist from the tussle, and as he got off the ground, Jansen could see his chest and abdomen heave with each of his breaths.

Taking the advantage, Jansen took a shot at Rickett, landing him square in the jaw.  As Rickett stepped forward, he landed another to his chin.  Rickett came on grabbing him around his shoulder.  Jansen managed to land another swift blow to Rickett’s kidneys, hearing his “whaump” breath from the blow in his ear.

“You fight pretty good, Kentucky boy.” Rickett said meeting Jansen’s face before kicking him in the shin.

“Awww!” Jansen exclaimed bringing up his leg, pain shooting up to his brain.

“But I fight dirty.” Rickett added, shoving Jansen to the ground and giving him another kick to the back before dropping down on him and grabbing a fist full of Jansen’s hair and pounding it, once, twice into the ground before Jansen found the strength in his neck to stop the motion.

Rickett tried to yank Jansen’s head side to side to loosen him up.  Jansen’s scalp burned with the swift motion.

“Ya, you taste my man, now you going to taste some dirt.” Rickett forced Jansen’s face closer to the ground.  Jansen resisted with all his might, but the pain in scalp forced him to yield ever so slowly.  The ground was getting closer.  Jansen could smell it in his nostrils. “Ya, come on, chew it on up, Kentucky boy.  Chew it on up.”

In a moment Rickett was off of him. 

Jansen quickly sat up noticing that Rickett was now ten or fifteen feet away from him, a man he did not recognize at first was standing next to him.  Then as the man charged after Rickett who was now frantically struggling to get up, Jansen realized it was Duane.

As Rickett got to his feet, Duane popped him in the face. “Ya, come on asshole, you want some of this.  You want to get violent.” Duane grabbed onto both sides of Rickett’s open shirt, yanked him with force close, drew back his fist and paused. 

The two men stared at each other.  Rickett with that same terrified look that he had had on his face that day in the bar.  Duane with his faced screwed up, but his eyes now searching.  Jansen could see the muscles relax first in Duane’s back, then his arm and finally his face softened.  Not loosing its anger completely, but loosing some of the tenseness that it had before.

Slowly Rickett’s shirt unclumped from Duane’s fist.  And he stepped back.

“Go on, get.” Duane said.

Rickett stared at him a moment and then looked at Jansen. “I’ll finish you when you man ain’t around.”

Some of the hardness came back to Duane’s face as he stared at Rickett who then turned and walked away, quickly.  His head down.

 

The Bunkhouse

 

“Somehow, I’m not surprised” Cin said “Rickett always was a firecracker.”

“Ow.” Jansen said, pulling his face from Cin’s hand.

“Hold still, cowboy.” She said grabbing his chin firmly again. “You could be hurting a lot worse.”

“Thanks” Jansen said to Dwayne.

“You’re welcome.”

“Yes, thank you.” Cin said and she and Dwayne looked at each other for a moment exchanging something hidden between them.

It was about an hour after Jansen and Rickett’s tussle out in the yard.  As soon as Dwayne and Jansen entered the kitchen, Cin shuffled him to the bunkhouse and set to work on fixing him up as she could.

“What’d you come out for?”

“To see you.” Dwayne said walking closer to Jansen and Cin. “See if maybe you wanted to go dancing.”

Jansen turned his head so fast he got part of the alcohol swab in his mouth.  He spit.

“I take it that is a yes?”

“Sure.” Jansen said out of the side of his mouth.

“Well, I can’t really tell if you need stitches or not.  It doesn’t look that deep, but I’ll call doc Watson all the same.  And don’t think about protesting either.  You sit up here to rest and so Rickett can’t finish his job either.”

With that she closed up her patch kit and made her way downstairs.  As she reached the door, she turned and added, “And the only place that you’ll be dancing tonight is into bed.  So make it another night.”

Dwayne turned to Jansen. “How’s it look?” Jansen asked.

Dwayne walked over to the dresser, pulled off one of the shaving mirrors, “See for yourself.”

Jansen took the mirror and examined his face.  His eye was black and he had a split in his cheek and on his lower lip, which was starting to swell.

“Hey, I’ve looked worse after a bull ride.”

Jansen looked at him “You ride.”

“Rode.  Don’t do it any longer.”

“How come.”

Jansen shrugged.  “Too much money, not enough winning. I still do roping and the occasional steer wrestling.  I like that.”

“I could tell.”

Jansen expected Dwayne to share in his laugh, but he didn’t.  In fact his eyes seemed to grow cold.

“I got to get going.”

“Oh,” Jansen said.  A bit disappointed. “Okay.”

Dwayne’s eyes softened as he stepped toward Jansen.  Taking his hand.

“So, well go dancing next weekend.”

“Sure.” Jansen said, rubbing his fingers over Dwayne’s hand.  This man was so nice, so sweet.  Jansen longed to kiss him.  Hold him close.  Run his hands over his bare back, chest, feel his strength in this man’s body who was able to toss a full grown fella across a yard.

Dwayne leaned down to give Jansen a kiss.  Jansen closed his eyes and felt Dwayne’s lips lightly on his own. “Ow.” Jansen said breaking the moment.

“Put some ice on that.” Dwayne said smiling.

Jansen nodded hoping for another kiss though he knew it would sting, instead Dwayne slipped his hand out from Jansen’s and headed toward the door. “I’ll give you a call this week.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” Jansen added with an inflection of hope.

Dwayne turned smiled and added “Me too.” Before sauntering out.

 

Chase’s Bedroom

 

Chase walked up to the bedroom.  Rickett was sitting on the bed, head down and shirtless.  From the look of his wet soaked hair, he had done some cleaning up of himself.  He had a bruise on his cheek and another starting on his shoulder.  Looking at him he looked so sad, so vulnerable, not at all like the hot head that Chase new he could be.

Sighing Chase walked in and said “What am I to do with you?”

Rickett shrugged.  Then, after a moment looked up and added “And I you.” He motioned to the shirt. “I caught him with it.”

“You didn’t catch anything.” Chase said talking overtop of Rickett.

“Then, what was he doing with it.”

“I gave it to him for his date.”

Rickett stopped, eyes narrowed. “Date?”

“With Dwayne.  I wanted to make sure that he looked nice for Dwayne.” Chase said starting to pace the floor. “Look, he’s a new kid.  He’s just starting to be a man and I know how lonely that can be when you have no one there to help you.” He stopped, walked over to Rickett and taking his hands added “Look.  I know what you think, and I know why you think it.  You of all people would know, but…Rickett, I can’t keep doing this.  You don’t seem to get that it is you who I’m with, you who I go to bed with.  You have to know that it is only you.”

“It wasn’t always that way.” Rickett added.

“It’s that way now.” Chase said.

Rickett ran his hand through his hair, took a breath and let it would, then suddenly clasp his arms around Chase’s waist burying his own head into Chase’s stomach. 

Chase sat there, not putting his arms around Rickett, his mind whirring.  It was always like this.  Always the bull ride of emotions with Rickett.  He felt as if he would break. “You can’t attack my hands Rickett.  I won’t stand for that.  No matter what.”

Rickett started to kiss chases shirted stomach over and over again.  In moment Chase felt Rickett working his down to his belt and unbuckling it, unbuttoning the jeans and the sound of the zipper being undone. “Oh, Chase” being the only sound coming from his lips before they swallowed up the man whose name he was calling.

 

Scenes from the next Lone Start Tomorrows

"Don't worry fella" said Drakes husky voice. "I won't do anything further to bruise ya."

J. swallowed hard as she and Tracy twirlled around the floor, bodies and legs entwined with each other.

Dwayne took a deep breath, "There's something that I really need to tell ya, Jansen."

YankeeCowboy
Size Me Up!
The 5 w's
Bi American
Climbing into The General Lee, and out of the closet
Slide and Ride
In the flesh, or at least a glossy simulation
Cowboy Poetry
Blood, Sweat and Steers
LST - Episode 1
LST - Episode 2
LST - Episode 3
LST - Episode 4
LST - Episode 5

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