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“Well, I guess the only thing to do is to go through Uncle Mack’s things and see if there are any answers there.” Rafe held the arm of the chair. “I was wondering…. Would you like to do it with me? You were close to him too. And if we come across anything that’s important to you, you could let me know.”
Russell nodded. There were a few things he’d love to have, things that would remind him of Mack and the hours they’d spent together. “In the living room, there’s a horse statue on one of the shelves. I gave it to him for his sixty-fifth birthday. He and I had it commissioned from an artist in town. It’s of Chaucer, one of his horses, and….”
“Of course,” Rafe said gently. “Come over tomorrow and we can sort things out. You can take the statue home with you.”
“Tomorrow I’m heading out to Los Angeles. I’ll only be there a few days. I should be back by this weekend.”
Rafe nodded. “Sure. That will work. Let me know, and I can make us some dinner. It won’t be as good as Violet’s, but I’m a passable cook when I have to be.”
Elliott strode into the room, lit the fire that had been laid, and lowered himself into one of the other chairs. The kindling took hold and started to crackle, filling the room with warmth. “What are you two talking about?” he asked gruffly.
“Mack. Just sharing stories,” Russell said. He didn’t want to mention the contents of the letters. Rafe had only shown them to him, so he figured it was privileged information. “Do you have any?”
Elliott got back up and walked over to the bar cart, where he poured three glasses of whiskey and handed them around. Then he added more wood to the fire and sat back down. “I got plenty. But first, you need to know that Mack was a cowboy. Period. Nothing else matters. Mack went out with his boots on—that matters too. The rest is just gossip for people who have nothing better to do.” Elliott raised his glass and then belted this drink back. Russell and Rafe did the same. Elliot turned to Rafe. “Your uncle lived by the cowboy code, and I suspect that was what drove him to tell the family the truth about himself.”
Russell had a pretty good idea now that there was more to it, but he’d let his father think what he wanted. He certainly couldn’t argue with his father’s sentiment.
“Not that it mattered in the end. Mack wanted to live an honest life and was willing to pay the consequences. I admired him for that. There were times when we sat together at the kitchen table, talking. One time he told me that he questioned whether it had been worth it. That was after he’d had more than a few of these.” Elliott held up his glass, and Russell took the opportunity to refill it, remembering that real cowboys drank whiskey, and usually more than one.
“What did he decide, do you think?” Rafe asked.
Russell’s dad turned back to Rafe, his expression serious. “He told me that his only regret was you. The rest of the family wasn’t worth the powder it would take to blow them up, but you were the one he missed. So maybe it’s fitting that he left it all to you. Maybe it was his way of trying to reconnect.”
“Rafe, I’ve been wondering. Why didn’t you try to get in touch with him after you left home?” Russell was more than a little curious. But he covered his expression by getting up and adding more wood to the fire.
“I tried, but I never got an answer back,” Rafe said softly.
Russell let the topic go. It was pretty clear that Rafe was as confused as he was. He’d been lied to so much over the years and probably had no idea what was true and what wasn’t. But he believed Rafe was telling the truth. Everything about Rafe told him that he’d cared for his uncle. Russell just wished that things had been different… for both Rafe and Mack. Maybe their lives would have been less lonely.
“Shit happens,” Elliott added.
“Real poetic, Dad. Maybe you should take up writing bumper stickers. Oh wait, someone already did.” He smiled.
“Don’t be a little shit,” his dad replied with a smile, the way he always did. “Things happen. I remember when I was dating this one’s mother.” He motioned in Russell’s direction. “She was something else. I’d been after her for two months to go out with me, but I couldn’t get her to give me the time of day. Finally I wrote her a letter telling her how I felt. But somehow she never got it. I don’t know why, but she never did. And that cost me months because I thought she was embarrassed and not interested. And it was all because of a mix-up with the mail. It happens all the time. So if you sent Mack something and he never responded, then maybe he didn’t get it, or maybe you never got his response. But something must have happened. Why else would Mack have left you everything?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out,” Rafe said.
“Maybe we’ll find something on Saturday once I get back.”
Rafe just nodded, obviously lost in thought.
THE THREEof them talked for an hour or more, sharing stories about Mack. Even Rafe was able to add a few tales about the times he’d spent with his uncle. Rafe stopped drinking after two, while Elliott continued with the whiskey until Russell had to help him off to bed.
When he returned a few minutes later, he walked over to the wall of windows and looked out into the darkness, seeing the mountains jet black against the starry sky. “I love this view, day or night,” Russell admitted, then strode over to the sofa and sat down. Rafe joined him.
“Have you ever thought of leaving?” Rafe asked. “I know the ranch is here, but you could move your business anywhere. Wouldn’t it be easier if you were in a city somewhere?”
Russell nodded. “At one point, I considered it. I wanted to see the world. But then I’d come back here and look out that window at the mountains—my mountains. I used to wonder what the world looked like from up there, so I went to see.” He smiled and turned to Rafe.
“What did you find?” Rafe whispered.
“I hiked up to the very top and saw the valley sprawled out below me. And my gaze went right to this ranch, this land. What I saw was home.” He leaned slightly against Rafe. As one of the logs popped, Russell slipped his arm around Rafe’s shoulder and drew him closer.
“I think I’m starting to understand how that feels,” Rafe said. “I’ve been on the move with the rodeo for years and never gave much thought to settling down.” Russell turned and found Rafe looking back at him, his gaze searching. “Then out of the blue….” Rafe drew Russell closer, and the heat level in the room intensified. Russell’s eyes closed as Rafe’s lips touched his.
For a second, Russell wondered if Mack had ever had this kind of moment. He felt so alive, so overwhelmed by Rafe—his taste, his scent. He pressed forward, pushing Rafe back against the cushions, and instinct took over.
But then, as if realizing what he was doing, Russell pulled back slightly. As much as he wanted Rafe right now, this wasn’t a good idea. He’d rushed into things before, and if he wanted a different result this time, maybe he needed to look at his own behavior. Besides, Rafe was just finding his feet. Taking things too quickly might unbalance him, and that was the last thing Russell wanted.
