Headstall

I can spot a cowboy perv with the best of them, Doc.

Lol. Yeah, there is a difference and I'm pleased you appreciated this chapter. No explanation needed. I'm sure you can appreciate how important it was to me to get this lovemaking scene as right as possible. I had to do them justice, and give the readers who had supported their journey something special. The dialogue between them was the easiest to write, because I know them inside and out. The rest fell into place, and I can still read this chapter and feel pride, and again experience all they feel. Thank you, Andypup.

Anyone who knows me knows I believe in redemption. That said, Candy was a hard one to sort out. I had to remember there are always reasons why someone is the way they are. I also don't think someone can be around Michael and Kendall and not find their own decency. She's young, and she is learning. Thank you, my friend. I enjoy these comments a lot. Cheers... Gary....

I just reread this chapter for the first time in a while, and it got me. Thanks, buddy. I remember fretting over this scene, and I knew it was going to be a bit sappy, but these two men don't mind that, and I don't believe the readers, or most of them, did either. I am proud of it, because it really fits who they are. Appreciate you sharing that you liked the proposal scene... and yeah, I think they are adorable too. Cheers!

Do I know my audience or what?

Is that the only way? Are you trying to trick me into revealing something, because I'm too smart for that. Jubal would be happy to keep their friendship, and to share a herd, but will the herd come back? In the room?

Lol. Yeah, I couldn't write much of their banter at first, with their friendship in real jeopardy, but it became a real treat for me once they became a couple. I love the banter they share... it shows how truly great their friendship was, and how comfortable they are with what it has turned into. Thanks, buddy.

Lol. Yes, he is, buddy, and I'm glad that makes you happy. Good to hear from you again. Please leave comments when you can. It makes me happy, and please leave a story/reaction like on the front story page if you wouldn't mind. It's just a click of the big thumb. To the left of it is the little 'medal' icon for leaving a story recommendation, and I would love for more readers to find this story. Cheers! Here's a link to the front page...

Hey, all! Have a great day/evening.

Hey, Les! I appreciate hearing this. For some unknown reason, I was moved to write this story, despite knowing it was best to steer clear of religion. I reread it just now, after getting your comment, and it still makes me cry. If it makes the world seem okay for even a few minutes, I am happy. Cheers and thanks!

Aloha, sweet Alberto.

Hey, all. My eyes are itchy and irritated today... guess it is from the drops yesterday? It's snowing big, pretty flakes here. Looks like a white Christmas is on its way.

Another enjoyable visit with the Baxter Boys and fam. I got a little choked up at Michael singing for his mom, and am really happy for Harry. Old people can end up discarded for the last part of their lives. He has something to live for now, and that is a beautiful thing. Thanks, Craig! Cheers!

Hey, Doha. Jubal is not a weak man, in fact, I see him as incredibly strong, but love does all kinds of things to us. He feels incredibly vulnerable after today, fearful of exposure, but still committed to doing anything he can to help Lucas, even though his instincts tell he would be safer to relocate somewhere else, somewhere he can keep his secrets. He understands he hurt Lucas, but he is out of his element when it comes to being open. He can't seem to help himself... he reveals himself with Lucas, and that scares him as much as anything. So yeah, he's a big, emotional mess, and we are all left wondering. I don't know if a conversation will be enough, but we'll see. Cheers and thanks, my friend.

They tried to 'cure' me too, until my mother stormed into the school and read them the riot act. They used the strap on me, and she told them to leave me alone. That was at a big public school after we moved from the small town with the one room schoolhouse.

I have amazing penmanship. It gets commented on still. So did my mother.

The Bookmobile was actually a bus, and it was in the same spot every Saturday from 8 to 4. To be frank, it was a rather poor area, and there was no actual library anywhere close, so having access to those books meant a lot to me. The first librarian was nice, but this other one showed up and was mean as hell. I was just a kid who loved reading. I can still picture her face... sort of. Ugh.

Okay... wasn't going to say anything, but I was actually writing, as in actually writing, not printing, before I started school. I remember my mother talking about my aunt(who babysat us during the day) who told her I was reading as a young child, not just looking at pictures. I don't know how young I was, but it was shocking to both of them. I started writing on my own, and that was another shock to them. My first year at school... I was five... in a little one room schoolhouse, the teacher saw my writing in a scribbler (what we called a little book of pages) and asked me to print something on the blackboard, which was actually on the side wall of the school. I don't think she believed it was my writing. Anyway, I wrote a sentence or something on the board, but I wrote it upside down... I didn't print it... and she later told my mother something was wrong with me. Of course my mom set her straight. I taught myself to write, and being left-handed, I had my hand turned so the page was upside down... and that's what I did on the blackboard. I'm not saying I'm exceptional, but I was an incredibly bright child according to all my relatives. Unfortunately, an unstable family life made any smarts I had take a backseat to surviving. When we moved up to Ontario, I used to visit a bookmobile and take out four books in the morning and read them, and then take them back by four when it closed, and take out four more so I'd have something to read until the following Saturday. I was probably seven or eight then. A mean librarian lady who took over stopped me from doing that. She said it was four a week... imagine discouraging a kid from reading... evil witch. So... I think I was reading as early as three... four at the latest.

No.