TLH_34

TEXAS LONGHORNS
By Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 34

We got up early the next morning to fix coffee and get breakfast underway. It wasn’t long before the men from the barn stomped into the house. Cowboy boots make a lot of noise on wooden floors. The men clomping up the wooden stairs to the back porch sounded like a stampede of bison. “Damn, they sound like a herd of buffalo what’s jes’ been spooked,” Bubba said dryly. I laughed at him, he was like Gip with his humor. He could be painfully funny at times. I suspected that’s probably why he and Gip got on so well together.

Bubba and I were the center of attention that morning. I can’t say we didn’t expect it. It’s just the way cowboys are. Bubba and I remained stoic. We already discussed it and decided we weren’t going to throw them any bones. Neither of us volunteered anything, but there was much whispering and giggling behind our backs. “J’all have a good time last night?” Gip drawled cautiously, which caused much snickering from the four younger men.

“Tolerable,” Bubba tossed off as if it was no big deal. “Right tolerable, Sheriff,” he added and grinned at Gip.

“Jes’ tolerable, Cowboy?” Gip addressed me with a wicked grin.

“I’ll have ta’ agree with my bunk-mate, Sheriff; however, for me, it was a bit more'n jes’ tolerable,” I smiled and winked at him. The men caught my meaning and laughed. “I’d venture to say, on a scale of one to ten, ole Bubba rang my chimes at about twelve plus; fucked me pert-damn good, too. I had to strap my belt around my butt and cinch it up tight to keep my ass from fall’n off,” I declared in my best cowboy bullshit manner. I couldn’t help laugh after my statement of Bubba’s sexual powers. That broke the dam for much laughter and hooting. After that nothing more was said.

* * * * * * *
We spent the day pretty much as Gip guessed we might. It became almost a full blown rodeo. The local cowboys got wind of Bubba having the sheriff and his boys from the next county as weekend guest, and the word was there was to be an impromptu rodeo at the Swansey ranch. Pickup trucks pulling horse trailers started arriving around nine in the morning and continued until almost noon. I don’t think Bubba counted on such a large crowd descending on his ranch, but he took everything in stride. Bubba and I roped together a lot that day, and I have to believe what Master Waddie told me about two men sharing something special were hard to beat at roping. The nearest team to come close to Bubba and my times was Gip and Waddie Buck. They were getting better all the time. I was glad for them.

I roped with everyone at least a couple of times. I even roped with a couple of Bubba’s neighbors who were damn good ropers themselves. We broke around noon to enjoy the tables of food the neighbors brought. Vince and Seth Quee also prepared several dishes they contributed to the overall feast. Bubba lit his outdoor grill for anyone wanting hot dogs or hamburgers. There was plenty of food for everyone. When country folks get together they always bring lots of food. One fine looking older cowboy kept staring at me all morning like he was really interested; in fact, he couldn’t take his eyes off of me. Bubba, Gip, and all the boys commented about it as we were having lunch. I didn’t want to seem vain, but I asked if they got the same feelings I was getting from him?

“You mean like he’d like to shuck you like a ripe ear a’ corn?” Gip chuckled and everyone else laughed with him.

“Uh, yes, sir, I guess,” I replied.

“You ain’t imagining it, Cowboy. Jes’ look at that ear a’ corn in his Wranglers and the wet spot at his crotch,” Gip said. More laughter from the men.

Bubba and his boys knew the man and told us his name was O.C. Harris. For many years, O.C. lived with his family not far from Bubba’s ranch. He lived his entire life in the community and went to school with Bubba, my dad, and Uncle Seth. Bubba said he grew up with him, my dad, my uncle, and cousin Rance. O.C. lost his wife to cancer several years ago, and his children, two daughters, were grown and moved away. They only came to visit him a couple of times a year.

“He's one of the best men in our community. He's a successful rancher and has been the best of neighbors to me and the boys. We done grow'd up together. He was a close friend of your uncle’s, Casey. He was really tight with your uncle, dad, and cousin Rance. The five of us were always together and yore’ uncle, Seth Quee, and him were best buds all through school. They never admitted it, but Vince and I knew they's fuck’n each other. We caught ‘em in the barn one afternoon, but we didn’t say nothing. I think he seen yore’ eyes, and see'n as how you look so much like his old buddy, he must have a thousand questions running though his head. I'm surprised he ain't said nothing. It's almost like he's afraid to ask about you. I know it must be weighing heavy on his mind,” Bubba said.

Bubba said he was a lonely man, but he didn’t know how to help him other than be a good neighbor and friend. It seemed strange, because he never made an effort to meet me, but we were never together with someone we both knew to introduce us. Country folks can be strange that way. They believe you should be properly introduced to a man before you talk with him. On the other hand, it’s perfectly all right for you to stare and wonder about him. I thought it might ease the man’s mind, and he wouldn’t be so obsessed looking at me, if we were to meet. I asked Gip to introduce us. Gip met the man several times before. As we walked toward O.C. Harris, he got a look of panic on his face. I thought he was going to bolt and run.

“Good Lord,” Gip spoke quietly to me, “I hope the man don’t have a heart attack.”

“You noticed, too, huh? Then I ain’t crazy,” I said.

“Y’ain’t crazy, Son. I seen cows in a thunderstorm what didn't look as spooked as that man,” Gip allowed.

We arrived where Mr. Harris was standing. He couldn’t take his eyes off my eyes and his face paled. It was like he was mesmerized. “Howdy, Mr. Harris,” Gip stuck out his hand to shake O.C.’s hand. O.C. took the sheriff’s hand and diverted his attention from me for a moment. “Ain’t had a chance to come say ‘hello’ since you got here, but I wanted you to meet my new hand I got working for me. This here young cowboy is Mister Casey Longhorn. Casey this gentleman is Mister O.C. Harris.”

I stuck out my hand, the man took it and slowly began to shake it as he once again looked deep into my eyes. His face turned a whiter shade of pale. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Pleased to meet cha,’ Mr. Harris,” I told him.

“Good to meet chu,' too, Son,” he said quietly. He paused for a moment like he was trying to figure out what to say next, “Sheriff Claymore said yore’ name is Longhorn. Is ‘zat right?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, it is,” I replied.

“Humm,” he mused like he was confused, “Got any relatives around here, Son?” he asked.

“Naw, sir, I jes’ went to work for Sheriff Claymore this month, and I met Mr. Swansey and his boys at the Chapel Creek rodeo several weekends ago," I replied.

“I’m sorry I been staring at you, Casey. There was a young man who used to live on this ranch before Bubba bought it from the boy’s dad. Bubba named his youngest son after him. Him and his daddy had eyes the same color’s yours. His older brother didn’t, but their cousin who live on the next ranch over yonder a ways had ‘em. It’s got to be more’n coincidence. ‘Sides, I grow’d up with the boy, Seth Quee Langtry. We was the same age and went through school together. I knew him well. We were buddies. Seth was like a brother to me. We done ever' thing together. We used to call him the 'Longhorn'. You could be his double or identical twin. My God, even yore' eyes are exactly the same damn color. Seth Quee, his brother Vince, their cousin Rance, Bubba and me was like family. We done grow'd up together,” he said like he was reliving his youth the same time he spoke the words.

Unknown to me, Bubba walked up behind me and was listening to the exchange. I felt Bubba’s big arms surround me from behind and pull me back into him to hold me close. He nuzzled me on my neck in a gesture of affection. “Best we tell Mr. Harris the truth, Casey. H'it won’t do no harm, and it sure would do him a world of good. He loved yore’ uncle like he was his brother,” Bubba whispered to me. I nodded my head in agreement,“Casey is Vince’s boy, O.C. Vince made it back from Nam and changed his last name to Longhorn so’s old man Langtry couldn’t find him. Casey’s come looking for his granddad.”

The poor man’s eyes started watering. He backed up a couple of paces as if hit by an unexpected emotional tsunami. His shoulders slumped forward and he kept shaking his head like it couldn’t be true, and yet, the undeniable truth was standing right in front of him. “Oh, my God in heaven!” he exclaimed almost reverently, “all these years we thought Vince was dead,” he said and tears began to fall from his eyes.

I opened my arms to the man, and he didn’t hesitate letting me hold him. That’s all it took for his emotional dam to burst. We stood holding each other surrounded by loving men who understood his internal turmoil as he broke down into uncontrollable sobs. I held him and comforted him as best I could until he got himself together. “I’m so glad yore’ dad made it back, Casey. Have you met yore’ granddaddy, yet, Son?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, I met him at the Chapel Creek rodeo. He came to the picnic at Sheriff Claymore’s afterward. I was wearing my blue contact lenses so he wouldn’t put two and two together like you done. I let my beard and ‘stache grow to hide my facial features. I don’t think he figured out nothing. I wanted a chance to be around him to see for myself what kind of man he is. My daddy would shit bricks if'n he knew I was anywheres near my granddad,” I said.

“He has good reason to feel that way, Casey. I don’t blame you a bit for being cautious, but Curtis has changed. It didn’t jes’ happen overnight, but he ain’t the man he used to be. Yore’ granddad’s a different man today from what he was then. He done some wonderful things for me and my family over the years. Do you think you’ll ever tell him who you are?” Mr. Harris asked.

“C'ain’t rightly say, Mr. Harris. He offered me a job work’n as a hand on the Lazy 8. I accepted and start work in September for fall roundup. I wanna’ chance to be around him for a while before I decide whether I wanna’ tell him,” I replied.

“That’s understandable, Son. It's the reasonable thing to do. I’ll be there, too. He always includes me in the roundups. It helps me financially, and since I ain’t got nobody to home no more, it gives me a chance to get out and be with men I know, appreciate, and care about,” Mr. Harris said.

“That’s great, Mr. Harris, then we’ll see each other again,” I replied.

“I got a thousand questions, Son,” he said like a plea from a man who's soul desperately needed answers.

“I understand, Mr. Harris. I’ll do my best to answer 'em for you,” I replied.

We hugged again and someone yelled, “Let’s rodeo! Cowboy up!”

Between times of roping with someone, I would ride over to Mr. Harris and answer his questions. He told me some wonderful stories about my uncle, my dad, Bubba, and Cousin Rance. I even got him to rope with me a couple of times. He was a fine horseman and a pretty damn good roper.

“I talked to Rance a couple a’ times at rodeos where he was working managing Sticker Wiggin’s rodeo stock company. I knew he’d been in prison, but he didn’t have much to say about his life except to talk about the old days when he lived around here. A man’s life is his own, and I don’t hold it against him none we didn’t git to know each other a little better," O. C. said.

“He couldn’t, Mr. Harris. My daddy done swore him to secrecy about him and his family. Cousin Rance wouldn’t tell nobody where he lived. He and my dad didn’t want my granddad look’n into things and finding us. Did Cousin Rance tell you about his boy?” I asked.

“Rance has a son? No, Casey, he didn’t,” he said. Another tear fell from the poor man’s face. I thought he might be feeling betrayed or left out.

“Don’t feel bad, Mr. Harris, he didn’t tell Bubba, neither,” I said.

“I don’t feel bad, Son, I’m jes’ s'damn happy for him. Is he a good boy, Casey?” he asked.

“The best, Mr. Harris. Looks jes’ like his daddy. His name is Dwayne, and he’s the same age as me. Him and Mr. Wainright’s boy, Logan, are my brothers, like you was with my uncle.”

“My God in heaven, you live in the same community as Sidney Wainright, and Sticker Wiggins?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, all my life. My daddy done taught me to rope,” I said.

“He can still ride a horse after having his legs blown off?” O. C. Harris asked.

“Sure, you’d never realize he had store bought legs if’n you didn’t already know. He gits around fine on them things and rides his pony with no problem. He’s my hero, Mr. Harris. I put my dad above all other men,” I said.

Mr. Harris smiled at me, and another involuntary tear ran down his cheek. “He should be your hero, Casey. To make it back after what he went through, he is a hero. I’m s’damn happy for you and Vince, Son. Many times I wish’t I’d a' had a son, but God saw fit to gimme’ two wonderful girls. Don’t see ‘em too much anymore, but I always enjoy their visits when they come. I git to see my grand kids. One a’ my girls got three boys and the other's got two. They each have a little girl. I spoil ‘em kids rotten. They come stay with me for a week or two ever’ summer. They’s jes’ here over the fourth of July. We had us a great time,” he said.

“That’s great, Mr. Harris,” I replied. We talked some more, and I told him about my uncle coming to me. He revealed to me Uncle Seth came to him several times over the years, but he didn’t tell anybody for fear they’d think him crazy. I asked him to pray for my uncle.

“I ain’t a church go’n man, Son. I saw what organized religion can do to a family with the Langtrys, so I mostly stayed away. I never said nothing when my wife wanted to go and take the girls, but I wouldn’t go. Oh, I would once in a while at Christmas or Easter for appearance sake. Other'n 'nat, I pretty much steered clear of church. Me and the good Lord’s got us an understanding; he don’t bother me none, and I don’t bother him. I doubt if my prayers would be heard anyways. I ain’t prayed in years,” he confided.

“Trust me, Mr. Harris, your prayer will be heard. If you ever loved my uncle, I hope you’ll reconsider and ask God to forgive him and give him strength to do what must be done. You don’t have to say nothing fancy, jes’ talked to Him like you’s talk’n to me. He’ll hear you. Your prayer jes’ might be the one what makes the difference,” I pleaded.

“Okay, Son, since you seem so sincere and Hell bent on help’n your uncle, I promise, I’ll try. I'd do anything to help my brother if'n he's in trouble,” he said quietly.

* * * * * * *
We rodeoed the rest of the afternoon. Word must have gotten around town there was a rodeo at the Swansey’s ranch. By late afternoon there were thirty trucks and cars full of town folks who drove out to watch. It was a great afternoon and everyone had a good time. Folks started leaving about six in the evening, and by eight o’clock, everyone except Mr. Harris was gone. Bubba invited him to stay and have supper with us. He gratefully accepted. I’m glad he did. It gave us a chance to talk some more. The ladies who brought the food left more than enough for us to have supper. That’s the way country folks are. They think about the poor men who don’t have a woman around to provide a good meal for them, so they bring enough to see that they do have a good meal.

We were grateful as we were tired and dirty. Of course, we washed up before supper. Bubba asked Gip to say the blessing, and once again, he prayed for my uncle. Mr. Harris was standing next to me, and I felt him gently squeeze my hand. There was much hugging and a couple more tears saying goodbye to Mr. Harris. Bubba invited him back for the following day. He told everyone else he wasn’t having a rodeo on Sunday. He wanted to spend the day with his family and guests. Mr. Harris’ face brightened, and he accepted Bubba’s invitation. In front of all the other men, Mr. Harris promised me he’d say a prayer for my uncle.

* * * * * * *
That evening we sat around and talked. We were in the huge living area of the house. “I don’t think O.C. wanted to go home,” Bubba said.

“I don’t either,” Gip agreed, “after you told him who Casey was and they talked, I don’t think he moved three feet away from our cowboy all afternoon, ‘cept when he was rope’n.”

“I didn’t mind. I liked him a lot. He's a fine looking cowboy. The way he carries himself he reminds me a little of my granddaddy. I’m glad ju’ invited him back tomorrow, Bubba,” I told him.

“Me and the boys is going to church tomorrow morning. You men are welcome to join us or stay here ‘til we git back,” Bubba announced.

“Aww, Dad, do we have to?” whined Seth Quee.

“Yes, Son, we ain’t been in a coon’s age, and we got us a lot to be thankful for. Won't do you boys no harm. It's only an hour and we'll be back before noon. I promised yore’ momma on her death bed I’d take you boys to church once't in a while,” Bubba said.

“Wouldn’t do me and my boys no harm, neither. We’ll go with ya.’ Ain’t never been to the church here,” Gip said.

“What about you, Cowboy?” Bubba asked.

“I think I's included in the Sheriff’s ‘boys,’ sir,” I grinned.

“Of course you was. Don’t never have no doubt,” Gip assured me.

“Oh, Lordy, I walked right into that one,” Bubba laughed, “I should a’ know’d Gip Claymore would toss his rope around yore' fine butt and claim you for his own. C'ain’t say’s I blame him none. The way me’n the boys feel, you’re welcome here anytime. Don’t bother to call, jes’ come on,” Bubba said and Vince and Seth Quee confirmed.

“Thanks, Bubba, I appreciate it. I know my dad would be grateful to you, Vince, and Seth. He’d be so proud to know you named your boys after him and his brother. I hope, someday soon, we can tell him,” I said.

“So do I, Casey,” Bubba said like a quiet prayer.

* * * * * * *
That evening Bubba and I had a repeat of the previous evening's rodeo in his big bed. I don’t know how, but the big man was even better than he was the night before. When Bubba got his huge cowboy cock all the way up inside my ass I was sure I got a glimpse of them pearly gates. I may not have envisioned heaven or the promise land, but it sure came close to a religious experience for me. That old buckaroo fucked me nine ways from Sunday and then threw in a few extra moves of his own invention what left me begging for more. The sheriff was right. I understood Gip’s candor completely. I found myself shamelessly begging the big cowboy for just one more fuck. Once again, during the night, I felt his big rough hand grab hold of my plug. Bubba popped it out of my ass into a waiting towel and quickly replaced it with his big bull prick. Damn, he felt good, and I welcomed him by meeting his first full thrust into me with an equal backward thrust with my hips. He felt like he belonged in my ass, and for that moment in time, he did. Gip was right, but so was my dad. I couldn’t help fall in love with the man. He was a good man, a fine cowboy, and an excellent fuck.

Bubba fucked me with the strength of a seasoned cowboy, and the gentleness of a saint. He fucked me so sweetly he brought tears to my eyes. I turned my head back to him and felt his mouth cover mine in an intimately passionate kiss. He didn’t stop his fucking. He was enjoying my cowboy ass too much to even slow down. He was ruthless in his steady fucking and knew it was having its desired effect on me. He kept on an on until I could feel him growing even bigger in my ass, and I knew he was almost ready to shoot his load. We were still engaged in a lengthy kiss when I felt his big ham of a hand rap around my shaft and began to pump it as he emptied his hot cowboy cream deep into my ass. I was more than ready to shoot and shot so hard my come splattered against the headboard of his bed.

We lay hooked together afterwards enjoying the afterglow of our mutual climax. Being the gentleman cowboy Bubba was, he grabbed a clean towel and handed it to me to clean my spunk off myself. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to remove his penis from my ass. He felt so good I wasn’t about to suggest he do so. We made a little more love and talked quietly. As we were lying there, the same small blue light flew into the bedroom and buzzed about our heads, but it appeared just a little brighter than the night before. Bubba and I chuckled at its seeming joy at finding us hooked together in an intimate moment. It removed itself from the bed area and began to grow larger. As it grew it began to take human form. Bubba held me tight, and I could feel his anticipation from his breathing. When it was fully formed it was clearly my Uncle Seth, but not as he visited me before. I could see him in his entirety. This time he removed his helmet and was smiling down at Bubba and me. Gone was his dour face, and he looked positively radiant.

“He must be getting stronger,” Bubba whispered.

“Yeah, I think so,” I agreed.

The spirit of Uncle Seth came to the bed again and reached out his hand. Without thinking I reached up and took it. We made a connection, and I could feel him flow into me. I could feel his soul desperately trying to communicate with mine. “Don’t try so hard, Uncle. I think you may soon have the strength to communicate with us,” I said to him, quietly, “We love you and have everyone praying for you. Do you believe me now?” I asked.

Seth nodded his head he believed me and in our minds Bubba and I heard him say, << Yes, my beloved nephew, I believe you. >> Bubba and I were thrilled, and I chuckled as I felt him move in my ass. I wondered if us being hooked together had some effect on my uncle’s ease of communication with us. Without asking he smiled. << Of course, it does, Nephew. It’s much easier for me to communicate with both of you when you’re as close as you two have become this weekend. Just like I shared a bit of my soul with you, so have you shared your soul with that big cowboy. Lord knows, he’s torn off a piece of my soul many times in the past. >> We could see and hear him laughing.

I heard Bubba sigh and chuckle under his breath. I knew he was privy to everything Uncle Seth was saying.

“It’s so good to finally meet you, to be able to tell you how much I love you, Uncle Seth, and thank you for contributing to my being.”

<< If you two could only know how much I love you. My heart has ached for so long to tell you how I feel about you. I watched you grow up, Casey, and I watched my beloved brother become a fine man and father. I’ve watched you, Bubba, and tried to help when I could. I love you and your boys without measure. >>

I felt a tear drop on my shoulder. The big ox of a cowboy was really touched by his little brother’s words.

“You gotta’ know we love you, too, Little Brother. We always will. We’re trying to help you and get chu’ where you should be,” Bubba said.

<< I know and I appreciate your prayers and efforts. I’m beginning to be less confused and see what must be done. I can’t stay too long right now. I jes’ wanted to make contact and let you know your efforts are paying off. I’m so grateful you ain’t forgot about me and love me enough to try’n help. Give my best to your boys, Bubba, and Casey, remember me to Sheriff Claymore and his boys. I love them, too. I’ll try to come to you when I can. I know you’re gonna’ enjoy working for your granddad. I know you’ll come to love him, Casey. He’s a good man. He’s not the same man he was years ago. I love him with all my heart. I’m growing weak, so I must go now. I love you, both. >>

“We love you, too, Uncle Seth,” I told him as he faded and was gone.

Bubba and I lay there together not daring to breathe. I felt him wrap himself around me and enfold me with his love like a giant snake. I leaned back into him, turned my head to his, and was rewarded with another deeply passionate kiss as he drove another deep stroke into my hungry ass.

“Other than Seth Quee tell’n us where Little Seth was that one night, that was about the most amazing thing what’s ever happened to this old cowboy,” Bubba whispered to me and bussed another kiss behind my ear.

“Me, too, Big Brother,” I sighed deeply, “I think that calls for something special, don’t chu’?” I asked mischievously.

“Couldn’t agree more, Little Brother. Ya’ got one more left in ya’?" he asked.

“I can hold as much as you can pump into me, Cowboy,” I laughed, “You think an old man like you can fill me up again?" I asked.

“Oh, Hell, them last two was jes’ warmups,” Bubba boasted, “Now we’uns can get down to some serious rodeo'n,” he said and roared with laughter, “Hang on tight, Buckaroo, tight’n yore’ belly cinch, your cowboy’s back in the saddle and he’s ready to ride,” he said. We shared a laugh as the big man proceeded to fuck the snot out of me one more time.

* * * * * * *
We lay in bed early the next morning in each others arms after having sucked each other off. We were talking about many things, not the least of which was the miraculous happenings of the night before. Bubba’s clock radio was playing low in the background. Some cowboy was singing a song about, “Ya’ got me scratch’n fleas and howl’n at the moon,” I laughed at the thought.

“What chu’ laugh’n at, Cowboy?” Bubba asked.

“‘At’s what yore' good fuck'ns be doing to me, Cowboy, make’n me wanna’ scratch fleas and howl at the moon,” I laughed.

“Jes’ promise me you won’t fergit about us. Don’t be no stranger, Casey. You’re always welcome here,” he said softly.

“Damn, now I know what my old man meant. He told me you’d shamelessly steal my heart away and never, ever give it back,” I said.

“Yore’ old man knows me pert-damn well, Youngster. I cain’t gainsay that. I’d keep you as close to my heart as I do them two boys a’ mine. Promise to keep me in the loop. I gotta’ know how this is gonna’ work out with your uncle and granddad, but most of all, I need to know how it works out for you and yore’ dad. Me’n the boys will git to see you at the fall roundup. We’ll be looking forward to it. I know O.C. will be. Sometimes the way he looks at you makes me wonder,” Bubba said and shook his head.

“Yeah, me too,” I smiled at Bubba and grinned.

* * * * * * *
At breakfast that morning, Bubba and I revealed to the sheriff and the younger men our brief encounter with the spirit of my uncle. They were just as wowed and encouraged as we were. Gip said another prayer for him at breakfast. About halfway through breakfast O.C. joined us, and didn’t seem to be surprised at the news. I was beginning to think he knew more than he was letting on. I was surprised when O.C. announced he would be joining us to go to church. We went to the small church together. It was a small clapboard building with wooden pews. The Sunday morning service was Methodist, but the Baptist would have their services in the evening. The following Sunday it would be reversed. I found it amusing the two beliefs used the same house of worship but couldn’t come together for their services. I don’t think that’s what Jesus had in mind.

I think that’s what I always loved about being a cowboy. Cowboys don’t bother with what church you go to or the details of your theology. It’s enough for them if you believe and know when to be reverent about it. I rarely found a cowboy who claims he actually prays, but most will admit they talk to the old man upstairs from time to time. It was such a small congregation, we were more than half the folks there. The preacher was especially pleased Bubba and his boys attended, but he was particularly pleased the sheriff of the adjacent county was there with his three sons. Bubba grinned wickedly at me as Gip referred to little Gip, Waddie Buck, and me as his boys. Bubba didn’t say anything though. Neither did O.C. who didn’t miss Gip’s introduction. Gip didn’t lie. He didn’t say we were his sons, and by that time, I certainly considered myself as one of his boys. I would’ve been proud to think of Gip as my dad. Come to think on it, I would’ve been proud to have been the son of any one of the three mature cowboys sitting there.

The last hymn we sang before the service concluded brought tears to my eyes. Bubba must have understood because I felt his huge arm slip around my waste and hold me to him tightly as he shared the hymnal with me. It reminded me of the one man whom I was very proud of to be my dad, my own father, Vincent Longhorn. The hymn was “How Firm A Foundation.” It made me think of how firm a foundation my dad gave me in raising me to understand not only how to love, but the meaning of love as well. It never ceases to amaze me how some of life’s most meaningful lessons come to you completely from out of left field, from a totally different source or perspective than you might otherwise have considered. This was one of those times. I must have been gaining as much from trying to help my uncle as he was. My perspective about things was beginning to become more clear.

* * * * * * *
Everyone pitched in to make Sunday dinner. You’d think a bunch of cowboys in a kitchen would be a disaster, but it was quite the contrary. Every man was assigned a job and Bubba was in charge of seeing everything came together at the right time. The two youngest men stood at the sink and cleaned as we went. As a result, there wasn’t a lot of clean up afterward and we had a great meal of fried chicken with all the fixings. After dinner we saddled the ponies and rodeoed for a while; however, Bubba called a halt to the cowboying early so we could rub the ponies down, feed, and water them and let them rest before we had to put them into the trailer for the trip home. We spent the rest of the afternoon in the shade of a big tree drinking lemonade and talking. It was a wonderful afternoon, and I got to know O.C. Harris better.

“So, you’re gonna’ go to work for the Lazy 8 and your granddad, the first of September, is it, Casey?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Harris,” I replied.

“Hope you get back down this way before you do,” he said.

“Yeah, what about that, Cowboy?” Bubba added, “We’d love to have you back down again or all of you for that matter.”

I was flattered, but didn’t know quite what to say. I had obligations to the sheriff and his family. I didn’t want to seem like I was taking them for granted.

“I’d like that, Gentlemen, but I have to consider what projects Sheriff Claymore might have in mind. I might not be able to get away.”

“I don’t see any problem with you coming back for another weekend, Casey,” Gip allowed, “I don’t think me and the boys is gonna’ be able to come with you, but you should have a free weekend before you leave for the Lazy 8. Besides, we’re gonna’ see quite a bit of Bubba, Vince, Seth, and Mr. Harris at the fall roundup. We’ll be there, too, starting the third week in September, is that right, Mr. Harris?” Gip asked.

“Yes, sir, Sheriff, the fifteenth of September. Got it on my calendar at home,” O.C. replied.

“Yeah, ‘at’s right,” Vince confirmed.

“Well, I won’t make any promises, but I’ll try,” I told them.

“Wouldn’t hurt chu’ men none to drive up and visit us, ya’ know?” Gip chided Bubba and Mr. Harris, “Ya’ll are always welcome, anytime,” he added.

“We jes’ might take you up on that, Sheriff. Right, O.C.?” Bubba deferred to Mr. Harris.

“If’n I can git my daughter and son-in-law to look after my place for a couple of days,” he agreed.

“Well, we can work out the details later. We’re jes’ so glad you come to visit this weekend and hope you come again real soon. It’s always a pleasure to have you and the boys down, Gip. Ya’ll know how we feel about chu’ men,” Bubba said.

“Feel’n’s mutual, Brother. You know that,” Gip replied softly.

* * * * * * *
Country folks get ready to leave and spend two hours saying goodbye. It’s like they don’t really want to part company so there’s always one more thing to say, or one more story to tell. By the time we got on the road back to Chapel Creek, it was late in the afternoon. I took first rotation driving and my time seemed to fly by. Since we left late in the evening, it wasn’t so uncomfortably hot for the ponies, and we didn’t have to stop as often. We actually made better time on the return trip; however, I don’t think I believe Gip’s simple explanation, Chapel Creek was downhill from Bubba’s. I’ve been around enough cowboys I know when I’m having smoke blown up my butt. Nevertheless, the sheriff got a good laugh out of Little Gip, Waddie Buck, and me. At first we talked a lot but after I turned the driving over to Little Gip I got in the crew seat in back with Waddie Buck and leaned up against the side of the truck.

Before I knew it, I was drifting off to sleep. Just before my lights went out I had a warm feeling come over me. I thought about Master Waddie and Titus and wondered how they were doing. I thought about how wonderful it would be to share in their bonding and to know what was going on with them. A small voice in the back of my mind spoke to me. << That’s easy enough, if’n you really want to know. I could ask Master Waddie’s permission. >>

I recognized my big bear buddy from Tucson in my mind and smiled to myself. << I'd really appreciate it, Big Man, but I think some things are best left to the privacy of others. I don’t know’s I’d want a lot of folks know’n ever’ intimate detail of my personal life. I’m certainly not ashamed of the love I’ve shared with any of the men I’ve been with, but the better part of that love was because it was only between me and them, >> I spoke to him in my mind.

<< The Old Man told me you’d react that way; said ju’ was grow’n up and learning to respect others in a new way. He’s proud of you and so am I. He told me to tell you again, you’re on the right path, >> he said.

<< Thanks, Bear Man. I appreciate you checking in on me, and thanks for the offer. I’m going to dream about Master Waddie and Titus. Maybe they’ll get my good wishes, >> I sent to him.

<< I’m sure they will, Casey. Sleep well and remember, you can always dream about me, too, if’n y’on’t to, >> he said and filled me with a warm feeling.

<< I’d like nothing better, Griz, >> I replied.

I heard the big man chuckle as he faded away. I could still feel the warm glow of his aura surrounding me. My dick suddenly got roaring hard, and once again, I was drifting off to the land of nod.

* * * * * * *
Suddenly, I was in a strange motel room which had two big beds in it. It wasn’t fancy but it was comfortable. I could see everything and move around, but I couldn’t see me in a mirror when I looked. It was weird. I walked to the small desk every motel has and there was a small pamphlet on the desk with a picture of the motel and the name written underneath: “Bayou Motel ~ Baton Rouge, Louisiana.” Why was I dreaming about a motel in Baton Rouge? I began to ponder my question when I heard the sound of motorcycles pulling up to the room. I almost panicked until I realized they couldn’t see me. I heard someone insert a key into the lock and open the door. There stood Master Waddie followed close behind by my good friend Titus.

<< Griz! >> I sent out a thought, <> I sent thinking he was channeling this for me.

<< Ain’t me what’s doing it, Little Brother. Ain’t chore’ other little brother, neither, >> Griz replied with humor.

<< You mean...? >>

<< Yep, you done graduated, Son. You and your big brother's gift have become full blown, >> Griz explained. I heard the sound of two people laughing in my mind; Griz and Little Bit.

<< We wondered when you’d make yore’ first venture, >> I heard Logan say, << Our big brother made his first contact a couple of weeks ago when his big heart was aching to feel his husbands love surround him. Liked to scared poor Lamar to death, he did, but his giant got used to it, >> he added.

<< But, why? Griz offered, and I turned him down, >> I asked.

<< Your first time out has to be connected to someone you’re very close to. I got a suspicion yore’ Uncle Seth might be help’n you a little, too, >> Griz offered.

<> I sent back with a giggle.

<< So, what else is new? >> shot back my imp of a little brother. He and Griz roared with laughter. << You can always pull back. I’m sure Griz will be happy to take care of you, >> he said.

<< You’re welcome to come to me any time, Cowboy, >> I heard Griz confirm.

<< Well, now that I’m here, I would like to hear a little news about them, >> I admitted.

I heard another roar of rude laughter and giggles in my mind. They were really enjoying my conundrum. << We’s jes’ playing with ya,’ Cowboy. We’ll leave you be. Follow your heart. If’n you wanna’ tip from your Bear Man, jes’ remember how much yore’ master loves you, >> Griz said.

<< Thanks, Griz. You, too, Little Brother, >> I replied. Once again I heard them laughing together as they faded from my mind.

* * * * * * *
“S’not bad! S’not bad a’ tall,” Master Waddie allowed as he stomped around in the room in his tall black motorcycle boots and leathers. Damnation, I’d forgotten how hot he looked in his leathers. My dick wasn’t only roaring hard, it was drooling uncontrollably in my Wranglers.

“Reasonable enough. Certainly the price is right. I c'ain’t believe they ain’t charging us nothing for the night’s stay. Who owns this place?” Titus asked Waddie.

“As I understand it, the owner’s a good friend of Beau’s. Big Jim told me Beau gave the man a hand when he was down and out and helped him buy this motel many years ago. He repaid Beau back a long time ago, but he’s remained close to Beau and Big Jim for years. He’s a brother and biker. Big Jim says he has a string of these motels throughout Louisiana; said he’s worth a fortune today, but he’s still down to earth and don’t forget his brothers.”

“For the price I guess you and I could’ve had separate rooms,” Titus grinned looking at Waddie.

“I’ll ask him if that’ud be yore’ druthers,” Waddie retorted with a grin.

“Oh, no, h’it’s all right. I don’t mind bunk’n it in with you, as long as you don’t mind bunk’n it in with me,” Titus shot back like he was asking a question.

“And miss you parading around in the raw with them bun’s of death a’ yorn? I think not, Pilgrim,” Master Waddie grinned wickedly at Titus and chuckled.

I couldn’t help myself and fell across the bed laughing at Master Waddie’s comment. “Did ju’ hear someone laughing jes’ then?” Master Waddie asked Titus.

“T’weren’t me,” Titus shrugged, “but, yeah, I heard it, like it was in another room,” he confirmed.

“It was almost like I recognized that laugh, like I know who it belongs to,” Master Waddie said.

“Who’d that be?” Titus asked.

“I know it’s crazy, but it sounded like Casey’s laugh,” he said.

Titus shrugged his shoulders like he wasn’t sure. I stiffened and stayed very still. Could Master Waddie and Titus actually hear me? I had to be more careful. I wondered if I should touch Master Waddie’s mind. I knew I could. I new how to do it. I had it done to me so many times. I decided to see if I could put an idea into Master Waddie’s head.

“Didn’t I see a liquor store a couple a’ doors down from the motel when we pulled in?” he asked Titus.

“Yes, sir, I think so. I saw it, too,” Titus replied.

“Be back in a minute,” Master Waddie said as he headed for the door. He headed for his Harley, but I put another suggestion in his mind.

<< Hell, it’s a beautiful evening. H’it ain’t that far. May as well walk. Do you good after being on that Milwaukee vibrate’n beast all day, >> I softly sent for him to accept as his own thought.

‘I could a’ sworn it was my young cowboy-slave’s laughter I heard,’ he thought to himself as he was walking to the front of the motel.

<< It was, Master Waddie, >> I said loud enough for him to recognize me.

“What? Casey? Where the Hell are you, Boy?” Master Waddie asked as he turned to look around.

<< Talk’n to you in yore’ head, my Beloved Master, >> I sent.

<< You got the same gift as Griz and yore’ little brother? >> he asked.

<< Apparently so, Master. I didn’t discover it until jes’ a few minutes ago. I'm in the back of Sheriff Claymore's big truck. We been down to visit Bubba and his boys for the weekend and had us a great time. I leaned ma' head against the sidewall of the truck. I’s about to drift off to sleep when got to think’n on you and Mr. Titus; about how much I’d love to be a fly on the wall and see if you’s bonded yet, >> I sent my beloved master.

<< We ain’t yet, but I plan on talk'n with him about it this evening. You done flipped a switch in me, Young'un, what's kept my old cayuse hard and dripping since we left Chapel Creek. I ain't thought about nothing else but you, my road-buddy's fine ass, and it's about to drive me stir crazy. I feel like a man on a fuzzy tree. The idea of taking on a new slave and breaking him to my saddle is too great a temptation. Tonight's gonna' be the night. You’s the one what gimme’ the idea of gettin’ some’um to drink; didn’t chu, Cowboy? >> he asked.

<< Yes, sir, that, and git’n you to walk to the liquor store so’s I could ask your permission to share for a minute. I won’t do nothing. I jes’ wanna’ be a small part of your bonding, Master, like, I was part of you take’n on my slave brother. After all, it was you what told me a part of me would always be yore’ slave, and I believe you. I know I’ll always will be a part of you and Titus, >> I said.

<< Of course you will, my handsome, Slave-boy. S’far as I’m concerned, I’m thrilled by the prospects of you being a part of our bonding. You got ever’ right to be, but Titus ain’t my slave, yet. We gotta' respect his feelings and wishes. Somehow, I don’t think it’s gonna’ be a problem. He’s talked about little else but you lately when we’ve been alone. He really loves and admires you. He knows how much I miss you, too, >> Master Waddie sent, and I could feel his love surround me.

<< I understand, Master. If’n he ain't comfortable with it, I’ll withdraw. I’ll go away. You’s still my master, and I’ll always obey you. I would never intrude without yore' permission, sir. Besides, it just ain't the cowboy way, noways, >> I sent.

<< Stop that, Salve! That’s an order. You’re gonna’ have this old cowboy bawling his guts out, and we’re almost to the damn liquor store. You want them folks to think I’s looney as a Mexican bed bug at a Motel 6 convention? >> he asked. I heard him laugh to himself.

<< Naw, sir, Master Waddie. I’ll leave you be for now, >> I said.

<< You better not. I need yore’ help. What da’ ya’ think Titus ‘ud like ta’ drink? >> he asked.

<< Ya’ont me to check, sir? >> I giggled.

<< Damn, I could get used to this kind a’ slave service, Son, >> he was laughing out loud as he walked through the door of the liquor store. The clerk behind the counter was an attractive, dark olive-skinned, young Cajun man of about twenty-five. He looked at the big man laughing like he was a bit daft. The poor man almost broke his neck from the double-take he did looking at Master Waddie in his leathers.

<< Mr. Titus’ preferred drink is Southern Comfort, Master Waddie, >> I told him.

<> Master Waddie laughed again out loud and asked the clerk for a bottle.

“A buddy jes’ told me one Hell of a joke, and I’m still laughing about it,” he explained his laughter to the clerk.

The man smiled, shook his head like he understood and retrieved the bottle for him. Master Waddie paid him and thanked him. The young man behind the counter kept looking Master Waddie up and down. He didn’t want to be obvious, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the bulge in Master Waddie’s cod piece. I could see a smile come across Master Waddie’s face as he let the young man know he recognized his lust.

<< Y’ain’t gotta’ be no mind reader to hear his thoughts loud and clear, eh, Young’un? >> he asked and tossed off in my direction. It was all I could do to keep from falling on the floor of the truck in laughter.

“You jes’ ride into the motel next door with all them other bikers, sir?” the nervous young man asked Master Waddie in a decidedly Southern Cajun accent.

“Yeah, Son, I did. Me and my biker family is on our way to Key West, Florida and stopped by to say ‘hello’ to the owner who’s a good friend of two of our members.”

“Mr. Kingston. Yeah, he told me one time he used to be a biker; said he still has his bike,” he said.

“Yeah, ‘at’s him. Good man, Bill Kingston.”

“I git off in an hour, sir. Ya’ont some company to share that bottle with?” the young man asked with a decidedly lascivious grin on his face. There was no doubting his intent or meaning. I couldn’t help it, I broke up laughing.

<< Hesh up, Cowboy! >> I heard my Master laughingly scold me.

“I appreciate yore’ kind offer, Son, but I be sharing a room with one a’ my buddies. We been bunk’n it in together on this run to share expenses,” Master Waddie told the young clerk.

“I’d be happy to take care a’ both a’ ya,’ sir,” the young man offered in desperation.

This time, Master Waddie almost lost it. I was still laughing my ass off. << If’n you don’t stop that, Cowboy, I’m gonna’ turn you over my knee, >> he sent.

<< Ya’ promise! >> I blurted out through my laughter. To my Master’s dismay, it only inflamed me more.

“I know I’d enjoy it, Son, but my buddy’s a pretty straight laced, uptight kind a’ man. Loves his'self some Jesus, he does. In a week or so, when we come back through, I’ll get a room by myself and if’n you’re still here, and you still wanna’ share a little Southern Comfort with me, I’d be much obliged,” he said.

Southern Comfort, indeed. What a god-awful pun. Master Waddie could be funny sometimes without really trying to be. The poor man looked like he just watched his puppy die. I was laughing my ass off as Master Waddie turned and walked to the door.

“I’ll be look’n for ya,’ sir,” he called out to Master Waddie.

We were finally outside and Master Waddie let it all out. He laughed his ass off and so did I.

<> I joked with him.

<< Oh, fuck, you’re so right. See what you git me into, Slave-boy. I done told ju’ what them damn pheromones do to a man in love. Ain’t laughed like that since you and me was rodeoing together. Now, Youngster, on the way back ya’ gotta’ tell me what chu' been up to. My boy been treat’n you right? Ole Bubba nail yore’ sweet, young, cowboy butt to his bunkhouse wall, yet? >> he asked, roared with laughed and I laughed with him

<< All that and more, Master Waddie, >> I told him of all the wonderful things that happened to me since I last saw him. I told him about my uncle coming to me. He was astounded, but Master Waddie, above all others, believed me. I told him about our brief conversation and our trip to Bubba’s ranch.

<< I’m in the sheriff’s truck right now pretending to be asleep. We’re returning from our weekend at Bubba’s ranch. I’m afraid I fell in love again, Master Waddie, not only with the sheriff and his boys but Bubba and his boys, too, >> I sent.

<< Ain’t no harm in ‘nat, Cowboy. Love’s what makes the world go ‘round. It’s what separates the men from the boys. It ain’t how tough you is, it’s how well you can love your fellow man and learn to forgive him his foolishness, >> my master said.

<< Don’t want chu’ to think I’ll ever stop love’n you, Master Waddie, >> I sent him and surrounded him with my love.

<< Y’ain’t gotta’ defend yore’ actions to me, Cowboy. You can love as many men as you like, but you're only gonna’ have one master, >> he declared and chuckled at his truism.

<> I agreed.

<< Someday, I’m a’ hope’n I kin give you to your old man as his slave, but a part of you will always remain my slave, Son, jes’ like, a part of you will always remain yore’ old man’s little boy, >> he said.

<> I told him.

By that time we arrived back at the motel room. We entered and there stood Mr. Titus buck-ass naked holding a towel. He took advantage of Master Waddie’s time away and was just coming out of the bath. I’d only seen Mr. Titus in the raw a couple of times at the Broken Arrow, but what I saw standing before us was one of the most handsome mature men I ever saw. I couldn’t help but let out a long, low whistle. From the look on his face I suddenly realized Mr. Titus heard it. He looked a bit puzzled, but he took a chance anyway.

“Why, thank you, kind sir. Glad to know I still rate a positive response in another man’s eyes,” he said.

“T’weren’t me what whistled, Son,” Master Waddie said and laughed, “however, I share the cowboy’s sentiments what did whistle at chu,’” he added.

“And, who might that be, sir?" Titus asked.

“The same man you heard laughing at me earlier. He was in the room with us,” Master Waddie replied.

“Casey? You mean...?”

“E'aup, he jes’ discovered he's got the same gift as Griz and his little brother. He wanted to check us out and wish us well. You obviously can hear him, too. Told me he checked and yore’ favorite drink is Southern Comfort,” Master Waddie said as he handed Titus the paper bag which contained the liquor. A big grin spread across Titus’ face.

“You really here, Cowboy?” Titus asked out loud.

<< Yes, sir, Mr. Titus, >> I sent in return.

“Damned if he ain’t. This only happened to me one other time when Griz came to me several times after I lost Button. He was a great comfort. I’ll always be grateful to him for that," Titus said.

“Go ahead on, Cowboy, ask him what chu’ done asked me,” Master Waddie said, “In the meantime, I’ll have two fingers of Comfort, if you please, sir,” he said to Titus motioning for him to carry the bag to the bathroom. Titus dutifully took the bottle to the bathroom to get some glasses.

<< Would ju’ mind if’n I hang around for a while, Mr. Titus? >> I asked him.

<< Can Master Waddie hear my thoughts with you, Casey? >> he asked in reply.

<< Naw, sir. I can let chu’ hear me or both. It’s up to me. Right now, he can’t hear nothing we’s say’n to each other, >> I sent.

<< I’d be proud for you to hang around for a while, Little Brother. I got me a feeling Master Waddie’s in an amorous mood. It’s been a while since we left Chapel Creek, and he’s been missing you a lot. We both have. I can tell he’s been doing a lot a’ cogitate’n about me the last couple of days. He ain’t let me git more’n three feet away from him since we left. I think tonight may be the night, >> Titus sent to me.

<< I’m sure you’re right, sir. I asked his permission, and he said since you weren't his slave yet he had to take you into consideration. I appreciate that. ‘At’s why I’s asking, Mr. Titus. I told him I jes’ wanna’ be a small part of your bonding, >> I sent.

<< I think you should be. If’n it weren’t for you, this evening might not be taking place. Sure, you can hang around. I’d be pleased for you to. After all, you’re gonna’ be my little slave-brother, ain’t cha’? >> he asked.

<< With all my heart, sir, and with all my love, >> I agreed and surrounded him with my affection.

<< Good enough for me, Cowboy. Stick around and let’s us see what that old cowboy comes up with, >> he said and laughed.

Titus returned to the bedroom area and handed Master Waddie his drink. Master Waddie patted the bed for him to sit beside him. They clinked glasses and each took a sip of Comfort. Master Waddie sucked in air through his teeth and grimaced, “Smoooth!” he choked out. Titus laughed at him, and so did I.

“I told my cowboy slave-brother I didn’t mind if’n he wanted to stick around for a while, sir,” Titus said.

“Good! I had a feel’n you wouldn’t have no problem with it. I told him I didn’t mind, but we had to take your druthers into consideration,” he said.

“I’m glad he’s here. It jes’ seems right, somehow,” Titus said.

There was a long silence between them, but I decided to stay in the background. After all, I was there to share an experience, not to impose my personality on their bonding.

“As you well know, T., I ain’t a man what beats around the bush, unless, of course, a slave requests it,” Master Waddie added wickedly then fell back on the bed laughing enjoying his own joke. Titus, being a man of great patience grinned at his nonsense. Master Waddie sat up and took another pull of Comfort. “I guess it ain’t no secret between us, yore’ cowboy slave brother brought me around to think’n differently ‘bout some things. We both suffered some pretty bad losses. I lost Zane, and less than six months later you lost Button. I went into depression and probably would’ve died if’n you and our family hadn’t roped, hog tied me, throw’d me in the back of yore’ truck and hauled my ass to the V. A. hospital. Even though you lost Button and were probably in as much pain as I was you were always there for me. You never left my side. I began to take you for granted.

"I never could understand how you could be adjusting better’n me. It was only recently, with Casey’s help, I come to understand, you were giving of yourself, and that’s the only way we recover from great loss. After Button died, you never expressed a need or preference since you were first a slave and then Button’s master for fifteen years. No one in our family seemed to want to press you one way or the other. It was the right thing to do, not to push. We never discussed each other's loss or how the future might effect us, so over the last few years, I just assumed you were satisfied with the status quo. I certainly never reckoned you might ever have a hanker’n to pay homage to this butt-ugly old cowpoke’s boots. It never occurred to me until our young cowboy hit me upside the head with the idea, you jes’ might. Was our young cowboy-slave right, Titus?” Master Waddie asked.

Titus clinked his glass against Master Waddie’s and motioned for him to drink up as he tossed his handsome head back and slammed down the last of his Comfort. He took Master Waddie’s glass and headed to the bathroom to pour them another two fingers. He returned, handed Master Waddie his glass, sat beside him, clinked his glass with Master Waddie’s, took another stout pull of Comfort, and sighed deeply. “I never expressed a preference because I didn’t have to. In a way, I already found my master, and I was doing my best to serve him. I was satisfied taking care of you and trying to be there for you when you needed me. It didn’t matter to me none we weren’t sharing a bed. It would’ve never mattered to me because there was only one man I was interested in serving, sex or no sex. You never reached out to me that way, so I assumed, because of your deep loss and sadness, you lost interest in sex or any kind of relationship beyond friendship. Thank God Casey come along when he did. I think you pretty much gave up on life and were jes’ going through the motions. Hope you’re listen’n, cowboy,” Titus said addressing me. I didn’t respond, “Yes, Master Waddie, our cowboy was right. It’s true, and it has been for sometime," Titus said eloquently. There was another silence between them as they sipped their drink. Titus continued. “My question for you Master Waddie is, would you consider taking me for your slave?” he asked and I could feel the love Titus was pouring into his words and surrounding Master Waddie and me in the goodness of his intent.

It was Master Waddie’s turn to motion for Titus to drink up. They once again clinked glasses and tossed back the rest of their Comfort. Master Waddie took Titus’ glass and set them on the small desk in front of the beds. He sat back down and took Titus in his big arms, looked deep into his eyes, and tenderly kissed him. It turned into more than just a gentle kiss. It became quite passionate. I couldn’t help myself, I started bawling like a damn baby. It was one of the most moving things I ever witnessed, and it was between two men I loved dearly and cared about. At that moment, I think I understood what a Jewish mother might feel watching her baby girl being given to a man at a wedding.

They broke off their kiss and roared with laughter, “Would ju’ please?” Master Waddie chided me. “A Jewish mother at the wedding of her daughter?” he exclaimed. I didn’t count on him hearing that part. Titus broke up in laughter, so did our master. I couldn't help laughing with them.

<< I’m so sorry, Master. I’m sorry, Mr. Titus, >> I said laughing through my blubbering, <> I tried to redeem myself.

“You’re forgiven, Cowboy, but if’n this man claims he wants me to take him for my slave, he must realize, I wouldn’t buy a pair a’ boots without try’n ‘em on first. I think if he wants to be my slave, he should show his master a little homage, don’t chu,’ Cowboy?" Master Waddie asked out loud. I laughed at Master Waddie’s way of asking Titus to pay homage to his boots.

<< A good slave always agrees with his master, sir. I only wish I was there to share one of your boots with my slave-bother, Mr. Titus, >> I said.

“If’n you’re gonna’ be my slave brother, I think it’s time you dropped the ‘mister’ from my name. You don’t call your brother, ‘mister,’” Titus chastised me.

<< Yes, sir, I appreciate that. Jes’ try’n to show my respect, Brother, >> I said and they laughed at me.

“And so you have, Son,” Master Waddie allowed.

As Titus knelt in front of Master Waddie and began to pay homage to him, I bid them a fond farewell, and took my leave. I left them to their further bonding. The better part of discretion is knowing when to take your leave. Besides, I was about to come in my Wranglers watching my handsome slave brother make love to our master’s boots.

* * * * * * *
“Must a’ been one Hell of a dream, Cowboy. You’s laugh’n, crying, and carry’n on. I didn’t wanna’ wake you ‘cause you seemed to be having a good time. You weren’t yell’n or nothing,” the sheriff said as I came around from my trip to Baton Rouge. I was unaware they changed drivers and Waddie Buck was now driving. Gip got into the back with me. I smiled at him.

“Don’t asked me how I know, but yore’ daddy and Titus bonded this evening,” I said.

“I don’t have to ask,” Gip said grinning at me, “I’ve suspected all along you got talents y’ain’t never discovered yet. I think this weekend and communicating with yore’ uncle has opened some new doors for you,” Gip declared.

“You’re right, sir. I’m still a little shaken by it all,” I admitted.

“Aww, you’ll cope with it jes’ like you do ever’ thing, Cowboy. You’ll take it in stride and make it your own. Ain’t nothing you cain’t handle,” Gip assured me.

Gip grabbed me and pulled me to him to hold me close. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world for him to do at the moment, and I melted into his big arms. I met some truly remarkable folks in my sojourn into the world by myself. Folks who were good hearted and knew how to give and receive love. Strong people of the Earth who believe in the innate goodness of their fellow man.

End Chapter 34 ~ Texas Longhorns
Copyright ~ © ~ 2005 ~ 2016 ~ Waddie Greywolf ~ All Rghts Reserved
Mail to: Waddie Greywolf <waddiebear@yahoo.com>
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06/25/2005
09/25/2016