Chaps and Hope (Mossy Glenn Ranch 1) (11 page)

“Never mind.” Will opened his eyes and refused to look at Barney. They helped Troy to a seat on boxes across the room from the ones Fred Jr had been on. “Did you hear them say if Fred—er, Freddie—was going to be okay?”

Barney kicked at the floor with one very scuffed boot and twisted that hat so much Will figured it’d be shredded. “Naw, I dunno. Ain’t like they’d tell me anythin’ at the hospital, either.”

That got Will’s attention on the blond. He checked and sure enough Barney’s cheeks were a vibrant shade of red. Will glanced at Troy, who arched his brows then whimpered and pressed a hand to his forehead.

“Don’t do that, honey,” Will told him, bending over and kissing his brow.

“Where’s the man Kenny was talking about, the—” Will turned, still bent, and spotted two men entering the room. From their uniforms and badges, it was a sure bet they were the local cops. Will wondered what the older one had been about to say before cutting himself off so suddenly.

“There’s the guy.”

Well, if it’d been anything bad, Will couldn’t tell. The older cop didn’t sound disgusted or look all snooty and judge-y.

“I’m Officer Sweeny, and this is my partner, Officer McCain.”

The younger office, McCain, looked as stoic as a human could possibly be. It was unnerving, and Will wondered if they’d have trouble with the man, or if he was just that emotionless with everyone. Officer Sweeny was friendly and professional as he asked Troy questions. Barney stayed with them, which was either endearing or weird, Will couldn’t decide which. Officer McCain did his Oscar-worthy performance of a block of marble. Will wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

“Thank you.” Officer Sweeny held out his hand and shook Troy’s first, then Will’s. “Sorry this happened. Ashville usually isn’t like this. We’re a peaceful little town.”

“Maybe too peaceful,” Will muttered. Sweeny looked at him and the living statue, Officer McCain, blinked. Will decided to explain himself briefly. “Look, I grew up being abused. I have scars from it. It kept on until—” Oh, he couldn’t bring in both his men. A ménage even involving straight folks wouldn’t go over with most of society. “Until Troy and our friend Carlos helped me to understand I didn’t have to put up with it. I didn’t
deserve
it. If they hadn’t stepped in, I might have ended up dead eventually, either from my own father, or myself”—Will patted Troy’s leg when Troy inhaled sharply—“because I wouldn’t have given a damn about living.” He looked from Sweeny to McCain, and thought he saw something stirring in the depths of the man’s icy blue eyes. “My question is, if everyone here knew what was happening to Fred Jr, then why didn’t anyone try to stop it? Because when it was me, I don’t think anyone outside of immediate family was aware of what was going on. I was sheltered, and yeah, I made sure to cover the bruises and burns up. I helped my father get away with it, because that’s how I was raised. But when someone cared enough to intervene…” Will didn’t say anything more. Either the cops would get it or they wouldn’t.

Sweeny didn’t look quite so friendly now. “Well, things work different in small towns.” He turned and left. McCain watched him for a half a second more then did the same.

“Fred, his brother’s got the biggest ranch in the state,” Barney added. “Means they got money. Intimidates people, ya know.” Barney smiled, making his plump cheeks pop. “Lines pockets, too. I’ll be surprised if ol’ Fred serves much time at all.”

Will tilted his head and tapped his chin with one finger. “Hm. You know what, Barney? We have a good friend who retired from the FBI. It’s about time we called and saw how Glenn and James are doing, right Troy?”

Barney’s eyes were so huge Will didn’t get why they hadn’t just popped right on out of his head. “Yer sure gonna keep this town innerestin’, ain’t ya?” Barney asked almost reverently. “I thought ya was lyin’ about havin’ a big willy, but now I think ya meant it. Gotta have some balls the size of Texas to go with it.”

“Why were y’all discussing your huge dick?” Troy asked. “Did he make a joke about your height or something?”

Will cut his eyes at Barney. “He kept calling me little.”

Troy snorted then groaned and cupped his face in his hands. “Aw, fuck. Fuck, that hurt.”

“I’d be happy ta help ya to yer truck,” Barney offered.

Will wasn’t too proud to accept. Together they got Troy to his feet, and Will realised there had been people lingering by the door eavesdropping when they scattered like roaches spotlighted at midnight in a dumpster. One of them didn’t scatter, though, and Will faced him as they walked out. “Yes?” It came out slightly snarky, but he was glad he hadn’t been outright obnoxious when the guy offered him a smile.

“I was mixing the paint for your partner when all hell broke loose.”

Will winced then, noticing the red work vest the man had on. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap.”

He waved Will off. “Aw, naw, it’s understandable. I just wanted you to know that I’ll bring the paint out myself here shortly. I think we’re closing up for the day, considering.”

“That’d be real nice of you, appreciate it.” Will was in a hurry to get Troy home since Troy wasn’t a lightweight and he was leaning heavily on Will. Later he’d be more polite. “Thanks again.”

Barney didn’t yammer at the guy like Will feared he might, and they had Troy outside in no time at all. There were more people out on the sidewalks than Will had seen before, but he supposed that was the way it was everywhere.

“Hey, why don’t ya let me hold yer fella up and you can go get yer truck?” Barney asked, almost glowing with pride over his idea. “Be easier on Troy.”

“It would,” Troy agreed, “but I’m not so hurt I can’t fucking walk.”

“Now that’d be somethin’ to see, fuckin’ and walkin’.”

Will just about swallowed his tongue when Barney made that comment. Troy let out a bark of laughter that caused him to groan again, and Barney’s face was flaming red. Will guessed he hadn’t meant to blurt that out. He wondered if Barney was gay, but it wasn’t any of his business so he told himself to stop wondering. Yeah, Barney had seemed really…attached, to Freddie, as he called him. That could just be because they had been buddies in school. Lord knew Barney looked like the sports type, and so did Freddie. They’d probably been on all sorts of teams together.

The walk to the truck took only a few minutes longer than it would have if Troy hadn’t been hurt, but part of that was because of the people who stopped and thanked him. Six times, Troy was told how grateful someone was because he put an end to ‘poor Freddie’s’ abuse. Will ground his teeth every time. He was glad people appreciated Troy’s actions, but damn it, they should have stepped in before it got to that point.

Will’s phone buzzed in his back pocket. He yelped from the surprise of it, having forgotten all about the damned thing. When his stopped, Troy’s front pocket chimed.

Troy grunted as they eased him into the truck. “Bet that’s Carlos.”

“I’ll call him, don’t worry about getting your phone out of your pocket. You’re lucky that snap didn’t come undone while you were playing wrestle the fuckwit on the floor.”

“Don’t make me laugh, Will. Hurts.” Troy winced and Will hoped his contrition showed when he kissed Troy’s temple.

“Sorry. I’ll stop being my usual amazing, entertaining self. It’ll be hard, though.”

“Uh.”

Will and Troy almost smacked their heads together as they looked at Barney. Will had kind of pretty much forgotten about him.

“Thanks for the help, Barney.” Will started to buckle Troy in but Troy caught his hand. Will glared at Troy for a second before looking at Barney and asking, “There’s air bags in this thing, and deer trying to get us to hit them and fuck up our trucks, right, Barney?”

Barney giggled and slapped a hand over his mouth. “Mmhm.”

Will was thrown off by a guy that size giggling, but he tried not to show it. “If I can’t buckle you in, you need to be in the back seat. Might be better anyway, so you can lie down.”

Troy moaned and started getting out of the truck. “The lying down part sounds like a plan, but the moving part kinda sucks.”

Once Troy was lying down, Will shut the door and Barney was right
there,
in the way. Will looked up at the jolly blond giant. “Thanks again.”

“Yer welcome.” Barney had his hat in his hands and was twisting it all around again. “I was wonderin’, maybe I could come help ya paint later? I ain’t got nowhere to be, and it just ain’t right that yer place keeps getting’ messed with. Someone ought to help ya out.”

Will studied Barney, wondering at his motivation for helping. In the end, it didn’t matter. They could use the help, but Barney needed to know something first. “You do know that we’ve hired family—we’ve got the LGB part of the rainbow, but we’re more than happy to add on. Just haven’t got the funds to hire more people yet, but when we do, they’ll be people who need a safe place to work and be themselves.”

Barney gulped, but he didn’t look away or walk off. That counted for something in Will’s book.

“You could ride out with the guy from the hardware store, help him bring all the paint out, if you want.” Will teetered on the verge of offering Barney a ride, but maybe the guy had his own vehicle, and Will really needed some alone time with his men. His phone kept buzzing and he knew Carlos was going to rightfully let him have an earful for not calling already. “I’ve got to go, sorry. Carlos is going to flip out already. Look.” Will grabbed a paper and pen from the glove box and jotted down his number. He hadn’t seen Barney pull out a cell phone, and he wasn’t going to hang around wasting any more time. “Here’s my number. Do you have a vehicle?”

Barney shook his head and his face flamed again.

Will understood a man’s pride. He had plenty himself, so he just went on talking. “Okay, no big. If you can’t or don’t want to ride with the guy from the store, just give me a call after an hour or so. I need to get Troy home, and I need to spend some time with him, but I can send someone to pick you up.”

Barney’s lips parted and Will thought he was going to finally speak again, but instead he just nodded and stepped back.

Will felt like he should be helping Barney, somehow, but he had two men who needed him. Carlos was going to be angry, but he wouldn’t be a dick. That wasn’t Carlos’ way. Still, he’d need some lovin’, and so would Troy, and God knew Will needed the reassurance that both his men were alive and well and loving him. He got in the truck and started it, then headed for home.

Chapter Eleven

Every time Carlos looked at Troy, he thought about how they could have lost him. Troy’s eye was swollen shut, and he had a colourful patch of bruises on his face and ribs. Carlos knew he’d recover, but his mind kept dancing to what-ifs. He knew the foolishness of that, yet he couldn’t make himself stop.

Him and Will had spent most of the day inside with Troy despite Troy’s claims he should be working. It wasn’t happening, and Carlos had made sure Troy understood that. The ranch hands had been joined by a handful of townsfolk, which had touched Carlos and his partners.

Will had been disappointed that the guy who’d helped him get Troy to the truck hadn’t shown up, but Carlos was just glad for the show of acceptance they got from the volunteers. The barns had been painted in no time flat, and Carlos had stepped outside to offer his thanks and coffee, along with returning the favour should any of the kind people need it. It had truly been an amazing experience, even if Carlos hadn’t been out amongst everyone doing it. He had tried, but Rocky and Salt had run him back inside. Granted, he’d wanted to be with Troy, or else no one would have chased him off.

As the sun set, Carlos settled deeper into the comfy chair they’d bought for their bedroom. Will was cuddling with Troy, both of them drooling and just looking adorable. Carlos wouldn’t let anyone hurt them again. He’d failed Troy today, and it didn’t matter if that was logical or not. Carlos was older, he was what a lot of people would call a Dom. He didn’t care what the title was. When it came down to it, he was the protective man who loved Will and Troy more than should have been possible. Carlos would do anything for them.

And if Fred Sr ended up a free man, that was going to be a problem.

He watched them sleep for another half hour, then Carlos quietly stood and left the bedroom. In the kitchen, Drake was puttering around, making something for supper. He’d been subdued all day, quiet, which wasn’t like him. Whatever was bothering Drake, it was his own business unless he chose to share it. Carlos wouldn’t push, unless Drake started slacking on the job.

“What ya got going?” Carlos asked him, taking in the diced tomatoes and lettuce on the table. Drake had worked hard outside all day, so Carlos had told him he could skip fixing supper tonight, but Drake had insisted. Carlos wasn’t dumb enough to argue.

“Just tacos, if that’s okay.” Drake nodded towards part of the counter covered in flour. “I’m making homemade tortillas. Haven’t done it in ages, but I think they’ll turn out decent.”

Carlos’ mouth watered at the promise of tacos. He hadn’t had any since they’d left Texas, and he’d got to where he’d craved them when he’d lived there. “I’ve been in taco withdrawal. What kind are you making?”

Drake lifted the lid off a skillet. “Carne guisada, some cheater fajitas, and chorizo and egg.”

Carlos came over to the stove and stood beside Drake, but not so close as to be inappropriate. There were only two men he wanted to touch. “How the hell do you make cheater fajitas?”

“By using the already cooked frozen ones you can buy at the grocery store.” Drake pointed the spatula towards a bag in the trash can. “They aren’t as good as home-cooked, but I added plenty of seasoning and they aren’t half bad, either. Slather on guacamole and salsa and you’re good to go.”

“We have salsa?”

Drake smiled a little, looking more like the guy Carlos knew him to be. “Made some up earlier. That new blender sure does run quiet.”

“Must do, I didn’t hear it.” Carlos went to the blender and took the lid off. He sniffed. His nose burned and his eyes watered. He caught the aroma of jalapenos and spices. “This smells great.” His mouth wasn’t the only thing watering, his eyes were doing it, too.

“It’s going to be really spicy.” Drake handed him a paper towel. “I made a wussier version for anyone not up to real hot sauce.”

The reappearance of Drake’s personality cheered Carlos up considerably, and they chatted for a while as Drake cooked. Carlos kept his eyes mostly on the doorway in case either of his men woke up, but it didn’t happen.

“Supper’ll be ready in ten,” Drake said as he began setting the table.

“I gotta make a call, then I’ll get Will, and Troy if he’s up to moving. If he ain’t, I’ll take him supper.” Then something dawned on him. “Did you make the tortillas ’cause they’re soft and easier to chew than the crunchy kind?”

Drake shrugged one shoulder. “Partially, and partially I just wanted to make them.”

“Thanks for thinking of Troy.” Carlos was glad Drake had done so. “I’m going to step out on the porch to talk.”

“Gotcha. Privacy.” Drake saluted him with the spatula.

Carlos went outside. It was chilly, bordering on outright cold, but still bearable without a jacket. The porch light was on and he turned it off, wanting to see the pitch black sky and the millions of stars freckling it. Texas had some beautiful night skies, but Montana had it beat, at least in Carlos’ opinion. He stepped off the porch and looked up, pivoting slowly. There was nothing like all that beauty, that wide-open space, so endless and dark and bright above you, to make you humble. He wasn’t even a shining speck like the smallest star.

Carlos rubbed the back of his neck as it twinged then he brought his thoughts and his gaze back down to Earth. Will had mentioned calling Glenn earlier, and Carlos thought it was a good idea. He wasn’t real close to the guy, but he did know him and pretty much all of their friends in Texas were linked somehow or another.

Glenn answered promptly and said he wasn’t busy after Carlos asked him, so Carlos explained what had gone down in Ashville earlier.

“Will said the father was supposed to be related to the richest rancher in the state.”

“Ugh. Rich men tend to give me the willies after what we’ve been through.”

Carlos got that, he sure enough did. Glenn’s husband James had been a lawyer for a rich, crooked man who’d used his money and power to destroy everyone he could. James had been one of his victims, and Carlos had heard snippets about torture and sexual abuse, but he didn’t know more than that. Didn’t want to, either. There wasn’t no purpose in anyone spilling James’ secrets to him. Glenn had been with the FBI at the time. He’d been the man who’d found James.

“Will did some research online and said the guy’s gearing up for a political career. Gonna run for senator. I wouldn’t think he’d want bad press, and surely it’d be worse if it came out he was letting his brother get away with beating on his kid.”

“Maybe,” Glenn agreed. “Let me make a few calls, see what I can find out. I still have friends in the Bureau, and if a little pressure from them can ensure fair jail time for this Fred, then I’ll do my best to get it done. I can’t stand a bully.”

“Me either.” Carlos finished up the call then went in. He stopped by the kitchen. “I’ll get ’em up if I can,” he told Drake, who hummed in approval.

In the bedroom, the soft light from the bedside lamp shone on Troy and Will. Carlos woke Troy first with a soft kiss on those parted lips. Troy opened one eye, the other not up to the task. “Uhn?”

“Supper, if you want it. Drake made soft tacos.”

“Supper?” Will slurred, raising his head up. “I’m starving. Ugh. Slobber.” He rubbed his face on Troy’s chest.

Carlos ruffled Will’s hair, feeling near to bursting with love for his men. “I can bring your supper in here, if you want. Might be best.”

Will sat up and scooted off the bed. Troy reached for him and Carlos offered his hands, holding steady as Troy pulled himself upright. Pain splashed across Troy’s face, and he was panting by the time he got his feet on the floor. He held one arm around his middle but waved off Carlos’ suggestion of lying back down.

“I can’t stand being laid up sick, or hurt. Freaks me out, and I won’t be near as stiff if I move a little.”

Carlos had got his share of bruises and breaks, too, and understood what Troy meant. He still offered his arm to Troy, and Troy took it. Will got on Troy’s other side and even though they had to turn sideways to get through the doorways, they didn’t let go of each other, each of them needing the comfort of the others.

Drake wasn’t in the kitchen, but like some psychic chef, he’d put the bench seat on the front side of the table, along with their plates. A thick cushion made the bench just as nice a seat as the chairs, that and the high back to it.

“Guess Drake’s not eating with us,” Will said. “Damn, I feel awful. I forgot all about him being upset. Jeez. Did he seem okay to you?”

Carlos shook his head. “Seemed subdued for the most part, but after a while he perked up.” He helped Troy get situated on the end of the bench. Will took the middle seat and Carlos the other end. “He might just need some time to himself to deal with whatever upset him this morning.”

Will made a wordless sound then exclaimed at the Mexican food feast Drake had fixed them. “Oh my God, is that chorizo? I didn’t even know we had chorizo in Montana! Yum! Troy, what kind of tacos do you want, two of each?”

“Yeah, except maybe half that,” Troy replied. “Smother them in hot sauce too.”

Troy liked medium heat, so Carlos pointed to the two bowls of it, one in a red ceramic dish and one in a clear bowl. “I’m thinking a mix of the two for him. One of those is hotter than Hell itself. Might want to sniff first, then hand me the one that’ll sear my stomach lining.”

Will slanted him a knowing look. “You’re sleeping on top of the blankets tonight.”

Carlos laughed—how could he not? The meal was good, the hot sauce perfect, and the company even more so. Despite Troy’s battered appearance and sore ribs, he started making suggestions about how the evening should end. Since all of them involved him watching for the most part, Carlos saw no reason to shoot down the man’s ideas. Troy did like to watch, and Will loved being the centre of attention. Carlos enjoyed keeping them both happier than pigs in mud.

Carlos wanted to take care of Will and Troy after their experience in Ashville. “You two just sit there and relax, I’ll clean up the kitchen.”

“Ooo, I likey,” Will purred. “If you could just do it naked, everything would be perfect.”

“Perfect’s boring,” Carlos shot back, winking at Will. “Use your imagination, and think of what I could do with this spatula.”

Carlos got started clearing plates, then he put the food up. Will batted his lashes and groped Troy off and on. Troy reciprocated, and Carlos enjoyed seeing the two of them playing around.

Drake’s door opened and he stepped out, eyes red-rimmed and hair all willy-nilly. He wore sweats that accentuated his thick legs and package, and a T-shirt torn at the neck. Carlos wasn’t the only one looking at their cook. The man looked like he felt like shit.

“I thought you all would be, uh, done.” Then Drake’s eyes went wide and he darted over to Carlos. “What are you doing? Don’t! I was gonna clean the kitchen up, I promise—”

“Calm down,” Carlos told him in his firmest voice. Drake froze and dropped his gaze. “I don’t know what’s got you in a lather, but if I’d thought you were shirking your duties, I’d have said so. Ain’t no reason I can’t give you a break, and frankly, you look like you’ve been put through the wringer and lit on fire. You want to talk about what’s got your eyes all puffy?”

Carlos hadn’t known he was going to make the offer. Hadn’t he just been thinking it wasn’t his business unless Drake brought it to him? But Drake had seemed on the verge of flipping his lid over Carlos doing a few dishes, and that was just bizarre in Carlos’ opinion.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Well, that was what Carlos had figured. Still, he had to offer. “If you change your mind, you can talk to all of us or any one of us. We don’t keep secrets from each other, but if you confide in, say, Will, we won’t be throwing your secret in your face.”

Drake looked up at him, reluctance evident in the slow way he did it. “Tomorrow, okay? I just… I need to think, and I could tell when I walked in here that you all had plans.”

Carlos doubted that. Drake had looked caught off guard to find them in the kitchen still, and he’d about had a panic attack. Calling him on it wasn’t going to happen though. “Okay, but only if you want. It ain’t a job requirement.” He stopped short of telling Drake he had friends here, because they hadn’t yet got to that place where friendship and employment tangled up until it didn’t matter much. Drake shuffled back into his room and closed the door. Carlos resumed washing the dishes.

When he finished and they were back in the bedroom, he made sure Troy was propped up comfortably after stripping him down. “Look at this pretty dick,” he said to Will, though he looked at Troy. Despite his injuries, Troy’s cock was already starting to firm up. The thick, hot length of it always felt so good inside Carlos. If he thought he could ride Troy without making him hurt, he’d jump right on, but he wasn’t risking it, not tonight.

“I love the way he uses it, too,” Will said from where he waited at the foot of the bed. “He can get it so deep inside me I can feel it at the other end.”

“Exaggerate much?” Troy asked around a quiet laugh. “I’m not as hung as Carlos.”

Will crawled up onto the bed, kept right on until he was between Troy’s legs. Troy’s cock twitched and filled in Carlos’ grip. Will put his mouth to good use, sucking the fat tip right in.

“Ungh.” Troy arched his neck and covered his eyes with one hand. “Feels good.”