Bluegrass Symphony - 9. Not Boyfriends

Caleb lay awake while Wren continued to sleep. The rooster had already crowed a couple of times, but Caleb's black-haired companion stubbornly remained in the world of dreams.

Caleb sighed. He had decided, after last night with Wren, that he was very likely gay. He had enjoyed both the physical act of their coupling and the emotional way he felt connected to Wren. More, he also liked the way it felt to lie with his bare chest against Wren's back in the still, slow brightening of the morning. It was warm and comfortable there. It wasn't what Caleb dreamed of when he imagined waking up with another person - it was more. It was beyond what he had dared to hope could be.

'It feels natural.' Caleb smelled the back of Wren's neck.

The rooster crowed again, closer this time, and Wren made a sleepy noise. Caleb lay still as Wren shifted. He heard Wren swallow, then there was a sharp intake of breath as his friend woke and realized they were naked and spooning.

"G'morning, Wren." Caleb's voice was gravelly and even deeper than typical, thanks to its lack of use.

"Hey. Good morning, Caleb." Wren turned so that he faced Caleb, and Caleb put his arm back over Wren's slim waist. Caleb's hand stroked up and down the small of Wren's back. Wren's half-awake cock was warm against Caleb's hip.

Caleb looked openly at him. He slid his hand up Wren's back and lightly moved an errant lock of black hair out of Wren's face.

Wren blinked slowly as the hand moved over his face. Caleb's eyebrows knit in curious concentration, and he continued to stroke his fingertips over Wren's barely stubbled chin.

"Caleb?" Wren's eyes closed under that delicate touch.

"Yeah?" Caleb leaned in and smelled Wren's skin. He bore the scent of wood smoke, the lotion they had used, and the muskiness of their lovemaking.

Wren breathed quietly, his breaths warm against the side of Caleb's face. "Everything okay? Like, really okay?"

The worried tone in Wren's voice made Caleb smile. "Yeah."

"Good." Wren's lips pulled into a smile. "Okay."

Wren lay still, and Caleb continued to touch him. Wren appeared to struggle to stay awake, yet he was also unwilling to surrender to sleep. He chuckled quietly. "That feels nice."

"Yeah?" Caleb wet his lips. "It's okay? You don't mind me doing this?"

"I don't mind." Wren sighed with contentment. "Why would I mind?"

"I don't know." Caleb's palm lay against Wren's warm jaw. He could feel his friend's steady heartbeat under his fingers as they touched Wren's neck. "I've just never done this. I don't know what's, ah, what's right."

Wren's eyes opened, green and vibrant. "How does it feel?" He pressed his body against Caleb's, their groins together. Wren's hand rested on the back of Caleb's neck, while his gaze searched Caleb's face. "Does it feel wrong, being here with me?"

Caleb swallowed. "No." His voice was almost a confession. Both of the men's erections lay up along their bodies, pressed between them. "It feels right."

Wren leaned in, and Caleb closed his eyes. "Then it's right, Caleb," Wren whispered. Wren gently kissed him, and as Caleb rolled on top of him, he began to believe it.

⤱

A half-hour later, Wren stood naked in the tent. He shivered in the early morning coolness and cleaned his body with a sanitary wipe. He glanced down and saw Caleb as he lay on the cot and looked up at him, an enigmatic quality in that gaze. Wren smiled. "What?"

Caleb smiled slightly. "I just," he sighed and the smile remained. "I don't know." Caleb sat up and Wren admired his exposed chest. "This," he motioned back and forth between himself and Wren, "it's new. I don't know what to do with it." He swallowed, and nervousness showed on his face. "I don't know what, ah, what the rules are, or what I'm supposed to do with it."

A moment of deep fondness and empathy ran through Wren. He put the used wipe in the trash bag hanging from the center tent pole and sat on the cot facing Caleb. Wren squashed his immediate desire to put his hand on his handsome friend's neck. He wasn't sure what had brought on that urge. Wren just didn't do physical displays of affection outside of trying to convince a guy to have sex with him.

"Well, we can clear that up." Wren wet his lips, a little nervous himself. "Do you want to keep doing this with me?" He watched Caleb's blue eyes as he spoke. "I'll just tell you now that I'd like that. I'd like it a lot."

Caleb chuckled. "Well," he rubbed the back of his head, scratching fingers through his very short hair, "I guess there's no denying that I like doing it." He bit his lip and shrugged. "So, what would that make us? Are we fuckbuddies now?"

Wren grinned. "Well, if that's what you want to call it, sure."

Caleb nodded, seemed to consider something then cocked his head. "What do you want to call it?"

Wren felt a weird flutter of panic. "Uh, 'fuckbuddies' is fine." He nodded. "Yeah, it's fine." He grimaced. "Uh, but to keep doing things without condoms, then we'll have to keep it just between us. No fucking around." He gauged Caleb. "That okay with you?"

Caleb eyed him and weighed Wren's response. He took a breath and nodded. "Yeah. All right. Sounds good. It's not like I've had anything going on, so monogamy works." He motioned for Wren to move and they both got up.

Caleb took one of the sanitary wipes and began to scrub himself. Wren hunted around for a clean pair of underwear and Caleb chuckled.

"What now?" Wren smirked as he put on his briefs.

Caleb wore a mischievous expression, finished with his quick cleaning and tossed his wipe. "I guess touching is back on the table."

Wren laughed, stepped close to his still naked friend, and cupped Caleb's furry balls. He grinned into Caleb's face. "Yep. It is."

They horsed around a little, touching and playing, while in the back of Wren's mind, he tried to avoid defining what a monogamous fuckbuddy could more easily be called.

⤱

It wasn't long before they were up and dressed. The first item of the day was to get the garden tilled so that they could plant the seeds gifted to Wren by Beecher. The disced earth was a good start, but they needed to break it up with the rototiller, form the rows, and get the seeds in the ground.

That was proving difficult. Wren frowned at the rototiller. "What do you think is wrong with it, Caleb?" They had pulled the old workhorse out from under the shed roof and tried to start it.

Caleb looked down at the machine and scratched his head. "I don't know. It should run fine. I cranked it up for Beecher once this year." He tried a couple more times on the pull-start. The engine gurgled but never fired up. Caleb knelt to examine it.

Wren sighed loudly. Caleb smirked and looked up at him from where he was crouched. "It's fine." He made a motion toward the shed. "Can you grab the toolbox?"

Wren moved under the simple little roof of the open-sided shed. Beecher's toolbox was an old, hinged metal beast of a thing, and it was always under the workbench. Wren saw the empty spot where it should be. "Caleb." He raised up so he could see his friend. "Did papaw move it?"

Caleb straightened and set his jaw. "No." He stalked over and stood next to Wren. They could both see the imprint of the heavy metal box in the dirt, but it was now gone.

The slow fire of anger began. "They took it." Wren shook his head and clenched his jaw. "I swear if I find…"

Wren jumped when his phone vibrated. He pulled it out. "It's Mom." Wren answered. "Hey, Mom."

"Wren, you'd better get over to the highway, near the mouth of the holler. Ragan just called. A couple of Beecher's cows are loose. Ragan said the fence is down there. He's keepin' them from gettin' hit, but he needs help gettin' em back on the property."

Wren made a flabbergasted noise. "We just -" he huffed. "Okay, Mom. We'll go get 'em wrangled." He frowned. "I think when we're gone, something else will happen to the property."

Rachel sighed. "Those boys. Do you think they cut the fence, Wren?"

"I know they did. The rototiller won't start either. I'm sure they're going to do everything they can to make sure we fail." Wren and Caleb were already on the way to the truck.

"Can Charles keep an eye on things while you're gone?" Rachel's voice sounded worried. "Son, I'd come keep watch, but if they're really doin’ this stuff, then there'd be nothing to stop ‘em from wrecking my place too."

"No, Mom, you stay out of it." They got into the truck, Caleb behind the wheel. "I'll call Charles. We'll get it handled. I don't know how much use it'll be, but I'm gonna call the police after we're done too."

Wren hung up and immediately called Charles. He quickly gave his friend the lowdown. "Shit, Wren. I'm in town shopping with the baby. I wanted to give Tracy a break, so she's the only one home."

Wren groaned, then sighed. "It's fine. We'll just try to finish up quick."

Charles snorted. "Oh, don't you worry. We'll make sure we keep eyes on your place."

Wren hung on to the handle above the door as Caleb drove quickly down the twisty road leading to the mouth of the holler. He frowned. "How?"

⤱

The big, white Dodge truck nosed carefully down Wren's gravel road. It crunched on the rocks, and then jerked to a stop when the driver caught sight of the old, blue Corsica in Wren's roundabout.

Tracy strode down the gravel drive, purpose on her face and a twelve-gauge in her hands. She raised the gun, aimed, and the Dodge threw rocks as it reversed.

The gun discharged, and birdshot pinged against the metal and glass of the vehicle. Tracy broke down the shotgun, still moving forward, shoved another shell in and whipped the weapon back up, ready once again.

There was no need. The Dodge careened backward around the curve, out of sight of the house. Tracy watched the road for a moment, then turned and walked back to her car. She sat on the hood and made sure her cotton dress wasn't showing more to the world than she liked. With a little smile, she waited and enjoyed the sun on her face, the twelve-gauge in her lap.

⤱

Caleb waved his arms. The six-hundred-pound heifer danced, bouncing on her front hooves, trying to find a way around him. "Hey!" he yelled at her, took another step, and she turned. Ragan and Wren kept her from running around the edges of their little blockade, and she finally ran back through the gap in the fence, onto Wren's property.

"Thank god." Ragan, the old farmer who had noticed Wren's errant cattle, wiped his weathered face. He looked behind them at the road. It was only a dozen feet from the fence, and the cows easily could have been hit by a car. "I'm glad it went this way."

Caleb nodded. "Thanks to you, Ragan. We appreciate the help." He frowned. "You got any pliers? We can twist the fence back together for now, till we can come back and do it right."

"Yup." The coveralled man moved to his truck parked on the roadside where he had pulled off when he saw the animals. Ragan returned with a couple of pairs of pliers while Wren guarded the hole in the fence.

Wren eyed the cattle as they slowly moved away, deeper into his property. "Thanks, Ragan." Wren took one of the tools. "If Caleb and I pull on the posts, you think you can twist the wire together?"

Ragan nodded affably. "Sure can." Wren and Caleb got into position on either side of the gap in the fence. "All righty, go ahead, boys." Ragan started with the top wire while the two younger men strained to bring the posts closer together. The old farmer had strong hands, and he firmly twisted the wires together with the pliers.

Ragan stepped back. "Okay, let's see if it'll hold. Careful." Caleb and Wren gingerly turned the posts loose, and the wire tightened. It wavered, but the twisted metal held.

Wren grinned. "One down. Three more to go."

Ragan stood with them while Caleb and Wren finished the task. Soon the fence was back up, and there was no longer a danger of the cattle getting out. Ragan nodded at the work. "Looks good." He eyed Wren. "Sorry to hear about Beecher, Wren."

Wren gave him a pained smile and nodded his head. "Thanks, Ragan. He was a good man."

"That he was." Ragan worked his jaw. "So, yer home now?" Wren nodded. "He left the farm to you, didn't he?"

Wren sighed. "He did."

Ragan looked thoughtful then turned his eyes to the fence. "I was gonna ask how your uncles were taking that, but I reckon now I don't have to."

The Hambricks were not well liked by much of anyone in the county, thanks to Wren's uncles. Everyone knew that they were not good men, yet many didn't have a choice except to deal with them. They owned so much property in the area, it was inevitable that other locals would have to interact and do business with the family.

Wren shook his head. Caleb knew Wren didn't want to air his family's dirty laundry for the world to see, but it was apparent what had happened. "Yeah. They didn't take it well." They all chuckled uncomfortably.

Ragan smiled at Wren, then clapped a hand on Caleb. "Well, looks like you've got some help, at least."

"Yes, sir." Caleb nodded. "Wren's letting me put my degree to use on his land." Caleb looked fondly at Wren. "We're partners."

Ragan grinned. "Good. You boys are gonna need to look out fer each other." Ragan took his pliers and dropped them into his pocket. "I'm gonna get back to the old lady. She probably thinks I had another heart attack and keeled over this time." He got into his truck and grinned. "Time to disappoint her!" He cackled with a laugh.

Wren giggled. "Thanks again, Ragan." The two guys waved as the old, wiry fellow drove away.

They got back into the truck. Soon they were on their way back home. Caleb only hoped that they'd find everything just as they had left it.

⤱

Caleb parked, then he and Wren got out of the truck. They both approached Tracy where she sat on her vehicle with the twelve-gauge.

Tracy was not a small woman. She was wide across the hips, and similar at her shoulders. Sturdy, hardworking, far from being fat, instead she had a frame used to the rigors of farm life.

Wren waved, and Tracy grinned. "Hey, thanks for keeping an eye on things, Tracy. Everything all right?"

"Oh, things are just dandy." Tracy slid off the hood of her car, the shotgun pointing up and leaning against her shoulder. She handled the weapon with a comfortable familiarity.

Wren grinned at her as they talked. Charles and Tracy began dating in high school, and she had been someone Wren always liked. That only increased as time went on and he got to know her better. "So, there wasn't any trouble?"

"Well, trouble tried," her grin widened until most of her teeth showed, "but trouble got peppered with some birdshot."

"Hah!" Caleb hooted gleefully. They all laughed, and Caleb patted her back affectionately. "Which one was it? Was it Wade?"

She narrowed her eyes and shook her head once. "I don't think so. I would have seen him coming down the hill. No, it was one of the others."

Wren couldn't stop grinning at the idea of Tracy shooting at his uncles. "Well, maybe that'll make them think twice before they try anything again."

Tracy cocked her head and looked a little disappointed. "Yeah." Her expression shifted, and Wren thought that her smile was just a touch malicious. She gazed up at the tip of the barrel of her gun. "It might make me a bad person, but I sure hope they're dumb enough to try again."

⤱

It was an hour later, and Charles had returned from town. He had taken Oliver to his house and Tracy took over watching their young son. Now he stood by his brother as Caleb took the rototiller apart. He held up the carburetor and a slurry of thick, grainy fuel dripped out of it in glops.

"Sugar." Charles tapped his foot. "Guys, I think it's time to call Casey." Casey Keen was the sheriff of Carter County.

"Yeah." Wren sighed and straightened. "I'll ring him up tomorrow. I know it's only going to make the uncles change tactics - get even more underhanded." He blew out a breath. "I'm not sure they're going to stop." Wren wrinkled his nose. "Huh. I've not heard from Mr. Roseberry. I figured they would have tried to take the farm through the court before resorting to all this."

Charles snorted. "Oh, you can bet they talked to him. But they didn't have a leg to stand on, an' Roseberry knows it." He waved a hand over the rototiller. "So now they're doin' this."

Caleb swiped as much of the contaminated fuel out of the machine as he could with an old rag. "They'll stop if it costs them." He looked up at Wren and Charles. "I'm tellin' ya, the second they're caught, the second we can prove it's them, then this is over."

"Yeah, but how?" Wren shook his head. "We can't keep watch over everything, all the time. Plus, now that Tracy shot at one of them you guys are in the line of fire too. Not to mention Mom." Wren felt weighed down by all of the worries. "I'm just, I'm not sure how we're going to do this without resorting to the same tactics."

"I think that's what they want. They'd love to catch us wrecking their properties." Caleb pulled more parts off of the little engine as he spoke. "But, you're right. We can't keep eyes on everything all the time."

Charles was quiet, and Wren looked at him. "What are you thinking?"

Charles's jaw worked as he thought. "Well, I was just remembering seein' something at Glen's Sporting Goods that might help."

"The place in Grayson?" Wren asked, and Charles nodded. "What? If there's something that helps keep the uncles away, then I'm all for it."

⤱

It neared dinner time and all three of the men were hungry, but they were almost finished with their task. Caleb twisted the screwdriver as Wren and Charles held the ladder against the tree beside Rachel's drive. Once done, he leaned back a bit and found the button on the small, weatherproof camera.

Wren made a noise. "Yep, it just sent a picture of your big, goofy face to the app on my phone." Caleb grunted at Wren's description.

"Good." Charles grinned. "I didn't know there was an 'app' or whatever, but that makes things real handy. We can see movement in real-time." He jerked and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Huh. Tracy sent a text. Guess who's on the move?"

Caleb climbed down, and they all heard an engine. They watched as Wade slowly drove by, staring over at them.

Wren smiled a huge grin and waved. "Go ahead, you son of a bitch," he said through his teeth. "You even turn down our roads now, and we'll know it."

They placed cameras near the highway where the fence was cut, at all of the entrances of their private roads, and one at each of their homes overlooking their houses. The little crew also installed additional devices at each of their barns. They were motion activated and instantly kicked on when movement was detected in their field of view. They took pictures every fifteen seconds when something was moving, and those photos were dropped into a folder Wren set up in the app provided by the manufacturer. Wren played with the settings so that he received a notice instantly when any of the ten monitoring devices took a shot.

It was an expensive solution. Wren dumped a lot of money into the equipment. Caleb knew they'd be a tempting target for a well-aimed shot from a rifle, so he also screwed thick, steel guards into place beside and under each of them. The only way someone could shoot one down now was to stand right in front of it, right in view of the lens - where it would promptly take the offender's picture.

Wade motored on past and the young men watched him go. "Well, I'm sure Wade will tell the other two what we're up to," Charles said as the Dodge disappeared around the curve in the blacktop.

"Good." Wren put his phone back into his pocket. "I'd rather they just stay away. I don't want to fight with them, and if the cameras do that for us, then great."

Caleb had his doubts. "I don't know." He frowned. "I mean, they're committed to this road now." He made a face. "And Tracy did shoot at one of them."

"They deserved it. They were trespassin', whoever it was." Charles considered as they got into Caleb's truck. "Still, I think you're right. I don't think they'll stop, they'll just change tactics."

Caleb started the engine and looked over, confused, at Wren. Charles always rode shotgun when they all used the truck. This time his brother sat behind the front passenger seat, and Wren took it instead. Caleb met Wren's gaze, and his black-haired friend smiled and shrugged.

"We sittin' here for a reason?" Charles groused in the back.

"Uh, no." Caleb put the Chevy in gear. He pulled onto the gravel drive, pointed back up the hill toward Charles's place.

Charles had already texted and warned Tracy that he had his hungry brother and Wren along with him. She assured him that she was ready for the assault on their dinner, and even suggested inviting Rachel up as well. They all thought it a good idea, now that they had the monitors in place. Caleb found himself looking forward to the meal. It had been a long time since they'd all eaten together.

They got up to the house and Rachel's truck pulled in as they got up onto the porch. They waited while Rachel approached in the fading light of early evening. She grinned at them. "You boys get the cameras up?"

"Yep. It's all done, Mom." Wren nodded.

"Oh, good." She shook her head as they all went inside. "It's sad you had to resort to this, but maybe it'll help."

Caleb instantly smelled coffee, chili powder, and several other spices and herbs he couldn't place as they walked into the kitchen. Tracy was just removing a pork loin from the oven. It looked terrific, coated in a dark, savory rub of some kind.

"Lord, that smells good." Charles watched as Tracy removed the meat from the hot cast iron pan. "What kinda rub is that?"

"Instant coffee, Italian seasoning, and a pile of other stuff." Tracy grinned at the loin as it steamed on the plate. She waved a hand. "That Bobby Flay, he makes some crazy things, and I had to try it."

"Oh, gettin' fancy!" Rachel hugged her while Caleb and Wren found seats. She pushed back and frowned at Tracy. "Now, you didn't go through no trouble for me, did you?"

"Well, it has been a while. I wanted it to be special." Tracy waved off her concern. "But it wasn't no trouble."

Charles smiled and put a hand on Tracy's back. "Hon, thanks for feedin' us." He patted her. "Sit. I'll serve it up."

While the pork rested, Charles served broiled vegetables, mashed potatoes, and by that point, it was time to cut into the pork loin. Soon they all had full plates of food before them and glasses of milk to drink.

Caleb looked around the table as Charles settled in. Everybody was happy, hungry, and they all complimented the blushing Tracy on her meal.

"This is nice." Wren wiped his mouth and looked at Tracy and Charles. "Thanks for having us."

Caleb swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

Charles cocked his head at Caleb, a little frown on his face. "Well, I think Wren meant him and Rachel, but, sure Caleb." He smirked. "I reckon you forgot that you live here?"

Caleb flushed red. Wren too looked at him, a bit of stress on his face.

Caleb began to speak, but Rachel beat him to it. "Well, that's good." She glanced around. "Means he feels at home down on the farm." She nodded and cut another piece of pork. "That's how it should be, right?"

Tracy nodded. "Yep." She grinned and held up her glass of milk. "To new starts."

Caleb felt relief and picked up his glass, then all of them echoed the toast and took a drink. Caleb swallowed the milk, then set his glass back on the table. He felt Wren's warm hand pat his leg and had to stop himself from looking over at his friend.

Though he couldn't keep from grinning.