“Thanks, it’s got some history. Lucas is fussing over the grated cheese in the kitchen. We’ll eat in the dining room if that’s okay?”
“Fine. Smells good.” Hoyt took my hand, his grip soft, and we followed Jesse and my salad into the kitchen. I’d never had a meal with a lover’s family before. I hoped my nerves wouldn’t engage my mouth too badly…
“…trulylove this dish! It’s like lasagna but with rigatoni. Cheesy anything is always a hit with me. Did you raise the beef you used in the sauce? We didn’t see any cows but Hoyt assures me we will before I leave. We have to ride out on a UTV to seethem. Can you imagine that I have never petted a horse before today? It’s outrageous isn’t it? I read about men on horses all the time. Oh thank you but I’m trying to save a small spot for the apple pie.”
“I’ll take his,” Hoyt said.
Lucas grinned as he spooned another helping onto Hoyt’s plate. The dining room was nicely set up with a large table with several chairs. Someone had snipped off some early wildflowers to fill a vase in the middle of the oaken table. The food was delicious, the conversation mostly mine yet I couldn’t find a way to quieten my chatter.
“So, Hoyt tells us you got some chickens today,” Jesse said then poured more water into his glass.
“Yes!” I dabbed at my chin with my napkin. “Three hens. They’re settling in nicely. I wish my cat were as happy as Roberto, my rooster. Ruggerio is quite unhappy being indoors. Well, he’s also in a temper over having his tom-toms removed the other day.”
“Ruggerio. That’s an interesting name,” Lucas said as he rose to start clearing the dinner plates to herald that dessert was coming soon. Hoyt shoveled his pasta in so quickly I had to wonder if he were even chewing.
“Isn’t it just? It’s from a Renaissance epic poem by Ludavico Ariosto that continues the story of Charlamagne’s knight Orlando and his fellow paladins. Have any of you ever read it?” All three seemed slightly worried as if I would call them out for not having read a poem written sometime in the early 1500s. “Well, it’s quite the journey is all that I’ll say!”
“I read some poetry the other day,” Lucas announced as he toted plates. I rose to help but Jesse placed a hand on my shoulder. “It was lying around on a bookshelf upstairs.”
“Oh who is the poet?” I asked, placing my napkin to my thigh.
“Phyllis Wheatley. Not sure who here had bought it but since we went to the reading and discovered how good Hoyt is we thought we would brush up a little.”
I beamed at Lucas. “What a wonderful thing to do! Hoyt is very gifted as was Phyllis Wheatley. She was one of the best known poets in the pre-19th century America. She was an enslaved women of tremendous talents who became a household name in literate circles. Her first book of poems was the first volume of poetry by an African American to be published in modern times.”
The three others exchanged a look. “Told you he would know about her,” Hoyt announced proudly.
I blushed to my roots.
I again went to rise and carry dirty dishes when Jesse waved me back down.
“You’re a guest,” Jesse said as he went to stand.
Hoyt stood. “Let me help with all this. You two visit. Get to know each other.”
And just like that Lucas and Hoyt were long gone and I was sitting with my napkin on my lap smiling awkwardly at Jesse Knox.
Suddenly me, of all people, ran out of words. Maybe I’d expelled them all during dinner and now the well was dry. There was a first time for everything.
“Hoyt seems really happy,” Jesse said as he leaned his forearms to the table.
“He enjoys a good meal,” I replied while fidgeting with the handle of my spoon.
“Well, yeah, there’s that too but I think it’s you who is making him happy. We’ve…well, him and I haven’t always been in communication but the few times we have since he was forced to leave here he’s been in a dark place.”
I nodded, saddened to hear that the melancholy I witnessed from time to time in Hoyt wasn’t just due to his most recent injury. “Now he seems less down. I’m trying not to push myself on him. Our past is murky.”
“He cares for you a great deal. Truly, when he speaks of you his eyes light up.”
“I could say the same thing about him when he talks about you. He likes you.” I felt my cheeks warm. “Not sure I would have seen you two becoming an item but it feels right.”
“Yes, yes it does.” I met his gaze with sincerity. “He’s been a man alone for far too long. He’s got a poet’s soul and a cowboy’s constitution. He hurts easily but would never admit it. I’m glad he has you, Lucas, and the ranch in his life. And of course I’m tickled to be sharing what time we have before he leaves for the ring with him.”
“You think he’ll got back to bull riding?” Jesse asked quietly.
I shrugged, pausing in our discussion to listen for Lucas and Hoyt talking in the kitchen. Their voices carried well so we had a moment or two for private talk.
“I think he thinks he wants to but I’m not sure his body should be exposed to that kind of punishment again. He’ll be forty soon.” I held back saying that nothing would make me happier than to have Hoyt Knox in my bed forever. A man had to follow his own path through life. “I hope he finds that he has enough here to retire here. Maybe take the teens out on rides or whatever kind of work is available. I’m quite impressed with the stance this ranch has taken in terms of helping LGBTQ youth.”
