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“You all know that I didn’t have much of a family before Uncle Mack died. But now I realize that not only did he leave me his ranch, but also the people who’d treated him like family.” Rafe reached behind the tree and pulled out a package, which he handed to Russell’s dad. “I’m not one for shopping….” He didn’t say anything more as Russell’s dad took the small box, ripped off the paper, and lifted the lid. “I thought this would be something you might like.”
His dad was speechless, his mouth hanging open as he lifted out a silver buckle.
“That’s one of the earliest ones Mack earned. I won the same buckle at the same rodeo three years ago.”
Dad honestly looked like he was going to cry. Of course, the old cowboy would never do that, so he took a drink of coffee. “Thank you, Rafe. It’s perfect.” The last word barely made it past his lips, and Rafe pretended he didn’t notice, as did Russell.
Rafe then handed Russell a much larger package in a huge gift bag. Russell opened it and pulled out Mack’s battered guitar case, then lifted the lid on the same instrument Mack had used to teach him to play. “I thought you’d like it.”
Russell tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. He lifted the instrument and lightly strummed the strings. “Jesus. And all I could come up with to give you was a watch.” He had always been crap at giving gifts.
Rafe chuckled and sat next to him. “You’ve already given me more than I could ever hope for.” He leaned down, and Russell blinked before sharing a kiss with the man who had stolen his heart.
Chapter 12
THE PEACEand quiet that followed the holiday were something Rafe could get used to. No parents showing up unannounced. No neighbors threatening legal action or physical violence. For the next few weeks, Rafe got into a routine of tending the livestock and exercising the horses. The snow had been light during that time, with a lot of what had fallen already melting in the sun. Rafe was able to go out riding with Russell a few times, and they took the dogs, who’d romped and played until they were all a happy, muddy mess.
“You know, if you keep that up, you’re going to need baths before you come in the house,” Rafe told the three as they raced off across one of the fields on one of those rides. The sun shone, and it was one of those days when everything seemed beautiful. A light dusting of snow from overnight covered the brown of the grasslands, making everything seem fresh and new. The dogs romped and chased each other, heading toward the cattle as Rafe and Russell crested a slight rise on their horses.
“They’re enjoying themselves,” Russell said.
“After all those storms a few weeks back, I was beginning to think I’d end up inside for most of the winter,” Rafe said as they continued forward.
“This is more typical. A little snow and then some sunshine, though it can be unpredictable at this elevation. Clouds can sock us in for weeks at a time. You just never know. The way I look at it, you get out when you can and enjoy the fresh air. Tomorrow we may be snowed in again.” He smiled, and Rafe pulled his horse to a stop next to him.
“I never expected this… any of this,” Rafe said, leaning over slightly to share a kiss. He turned back toward the house.
“What exactly?”
“All of it. A place of my own, a home.” He took Russell’s hand. “You. Even finding out about Uncle Mack. All of these were things I never figured I’d have.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m simply happy.”
“Can I ask you how you got there?” Russell shifted in the saddle.
“Aren’t you happy?” Rafe asked tentatively.
“Yes, I am. But that’s when I usually start to worry,” Russell said.
Rafe rolled his eyes and slapped him on the shoulder. “Please. We’re both cowboys at heart. What we have is what every cowboy dreams of—and has for hundreds of years. Every book ever written describes the same dream: wide open spaces, a place to call your own, and someone to share it with. That’s all we really want, isn’t it?” He turned. “Unless….” He left the last part hanging on purpose.
“It isn’t that. Because you’re right; I know it. I keep thinking that the ghosts of my past will go away. That I could leave Jase behind.”
“Maybe I had it easier in that regard. I got to stand up to my parents and tell them to take a fast ride off a tall cliff. That gave me closure. But you never got that. Jase is just gone, and yet you’re still carrying him around.” Rafe grinned and tilted his head. “Come on. I have an idea.” Rafe took off, and Russell followed. Rafe grinned, and once he reached the edge of the stream, he tied up the horses and climbed off.
“What the heck are you doing?”
“Making a snowman. Come on, it’s packing snow.” He rolled the first ball as large as he could, right up to the edge of the water. By then Russell had a smaller one, and Rafe placed it on top. He got sticks for arms and found some large pods for eyes and a nose. Russell drew a mouth, and a cluster of small leaves made for a nose.
“That is one ugly thing,” Russell said.
“I think we should call him Jase,” Rafe added.
Smiling, Russell quickly made a snowball and tossed it at Rafe, hitting him square in the chest.
“Is that how you want to play it?” Rafe asked, laughing and tossing one back, then ducking behind the snowman for cover.
“Not fair.” Russell picked up a bunch of snow and tossed it over the top of the snowman so that it rained down on Rafe.
“God, it’s going down my back.” Rafe shimmied to try to get the snow out, and Russell tackled him, rolling them both until they knocked over their snowman and ended up covered in snow. Rafe chuckled and leaned forward to steal a kiss before getting up and helping Russell to his feet.
