Take the Long Road Home - 5. Chapter 5

MORGAN

Why were cattle so slow? From where we found our herd to the ranch was only seven miles, but trying to get nearly two thousand beasts to move in the direction you wanted them to go seemed impossible. It didn’t help that a group of yearlings behaved like rebellious teenagers, wandering off at every chance. Lucy and Ethel earned their keep every time Carson whistled the command to get them.

We were lucky to make it almost two miles that first day. It was now day four, and if we could keep up this pace, we’d make it to the ranch before sunset. I could practically hear a hot shower beckoning me to hurry. I was muddy, dirty, and my ass was numb from the long hours perched on the unforgiving leather.

It was an overcast, dreary day. We’d already run into a few showers, which slowed the herd down. This group of bovines preferred huddling rather than hustling.

“Oh, shit.” Troy declared as a rumble of thunder reached us.

I sighed. “We ain’t making it to a hot shower tonight, are we?”

Troy frowned. “I’m sleeping on a fucking mattress tonight, even if it means slaughtering these fucking beasts.”

I couldn't help the snort that shot out of me. “You’d really throw away your future for a cushy bed and a fluffy pillow?’

“In a heartbeat,” he deadpanned. He was as fed up with the slow pace as I was.

“You better not let your father hear you,” Carson said as he snuck up behind us.

Troy groaned. Carson laughed. I pulled my hat down over my face.

“Look.” Carson pointed at a small, black blob on the horizon. “That’s your dad and his crew. With any luck, we’ll all be in our nice, comfy beds tonight.”

I squinted through the drizzle at the blob in the distance. Was it my imagination, or was it getting closer awfully fast? Sometimes, it was hard to gauge distance out here because of the way the terrain rolled and dipped. Something might seem far off, but in reality it was closer than it looked.

“Uh, Carson?” I tried to keep the alarm out of my voice, but it shook. Not only was the blob getting bigger, but it was headed straight for us.

Carson’s eyes widened as he looked at the spot I pointed to.

“Son of a bitch! Stampede!”

My heart leaped into my throat as the implication hit me. The last thing a cowboy ever wants to see is three thousand scared and pissed-off cows running full speed straight at him.

Carson’s whistle split the air. The dogs and the other hired hands sprang into action. It seemed like only a few heartbeats passed before we heard and then felt the earth rumble with thirty thousand lethal hooves barreling right at us. Our cows felt it too and began to panic.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I yelled as Aggie danced beneath me. I struggled to keep her under control. I squeezed my thighs together and gave her a firm kick with my spurs. Our herd was gaining momentum, and the other herd was closing the distance at breakneck speed.

Troy was shouting, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Just as Aggie found her footing, all hell broke loose. The other herd came upon us, and we were swept into the fray. Chaos didn’t come close to what Aggie and I were in the middle of. With her ears pinned back, Aggie did the only thing she could do— she ran.

The last thing I saw before being swallowed by a cloud of cattle and misty rain was terror on Troy’s face.

I was in deep trouble. The last place anyone wanted to be was in the middle of a herd of a few thousand cattle running at top speed. One wrong move would be the end of my life. I clung to the reins and hung on with everything I had.

Exhaustion or a cliff were about the only things that would stop the animals. I racked my brain, trying to remember where the drop-off Troy pointed out on our first ride together was. I didn’t think we were close, but I couldn’t be positive.

I spied a gap to my side and eased Aggie toward it. Just beyond the spray of mud being kicked up by the herd was sweet freedom. However, each time we got close, we immediately got sucked back in. I fought to stay on Aggie as she ran with wide-eyed terror. Lightning flashed overhead, but the deafening sound of the stampede drowned out the clap of thunder that followed. The ground shook beneath us as the terrorized animals ran. The heavens chose that moment to go from a light drizzle to a full-out deluge, and pouring rain added to the danger we were in. I prayed for Aggie to keep her footing as a cow to our right slipped and fell and was immediately crushed by lethal hooves.

I wasn’t sure how long I was caught up in the melee, but as the rain came down in sheets, it became nearly impossible to see. Even for the cattle, and they began to slow down. Getting thousands of animals to stop running is like stopping a train. It takes a while.

My heart was beating out of my chest as I guided Aggie through the lowing herd. Once I was at a safe distance away, I dismounted, and my legs nearly collapsed beneath me. The rain tapered off as both Aggie and I fought for breath. I gently ran my hands over her, searching for signs of injury.

“Fuck,” I breathed, relieved when I didn’t find anything.

“MORGAN!”

I turned to see Troy and Duncan racing towards me. The big horse plowed to a stop, nearly sliding on his haunches in the mud, and Troy stumbled as he jumped down. He threw his arms around me and peppered my face with kisses, knocking his hat off his head. I realized mine was missing as the rain trickled down the back of my neck.

“Oh my God! I thought you were going to die. Don’t do that to me again. I can’t lose you!”

Before I could reply, Troy sealed his lips to mine as though he were trying to become part of me. It wasn’t until we heard someone clearing their throat that we broke apart.

Mr. Riggs dismounted his horse and walked over. “Are you okay, Morgan?”

“Y-y-yeah,” I stammered, still shaken up.

“You boys head back to the house. At least those foolish cattle stampeded toward the ranch. We’re not far. Get your horses taken care of. Make sure you give Aggie some warm mash and a few extra carrots. She deserves it. Duncan, too. I’ve never seen him run so fast. Then get yourselves a hot shower and clean clothes.”

“But, Dad—” Troy started to protest.

“No buts. Do as I say, Troy. The rest of the crew can get the herd settled. Your horses ran hard. They need to be cared for and to rest.”

Troy sighed. “Yes, sir.”

Aggie looked as high as a mountain when I went to mount her. I had to lengthen the stirrup, and it still took three tries to get my boot in so I could heave my weary ass up. Troy waited patiently as I pulled the stirrup up to its proper place.

The drizzle tapered off as we walked the rest of the way to the main house. My limbs felt like wet noodles as the adrenaline crash slammed into me. The barn was a sight for sore eyes.

This time, when I dismounted, my legs did give out, and I landed in a heap on the concrete floor. Aggie nudged me with her velvety nose.

“Sorry, girl. You’re gonna have to give me a minute.”

“Here.” Troy knelt and handed me a bottle of water. I hadn’t realized how parched I was. I guzzled it down in one go.

Troy rubbed slow circles on my back until I stopped shaking. Then, he helped me up, and together we managed to get the saddles and bridles off the horses and slip their halters on. We rubbed them down thoroughly before covering them with blankets, as they were still damp from the rain. Troy fixed their warm mash while I put clean hay in their stalls. Aggie whickered softly as I led her to her stall. I rewarded her with a few carrots.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I knew you wouldn’t let me fall.” I kissed her nose, and she snorted, which made me laugh. “Goodnight, girl.”

I secured her stall and met Troy outside. He pulled the barn door shut. It was warm and dry in there, and it needed to stay that way. We trudged through the muddy yard to the bunkhouse. There was a mudroom next to the shower area where we divested ourselves of our caked boots and filthy jeans. We tossed everything into a pile to be dealt with later.

Standing there in our boxer briefs, we drank in the sight of each other. Troy made the first move and pulled me into his embrace. “Well, I think the cat’s out of the bag.”

I nodded. “Yup. Pretty sure your dad didn’t miss you trying to suck my face off.”

Troy snickered. “Oh, hell. I’m sure he doesn't care, but we are going to have some explaining to do.”

“Are we going to be in trouble?” Until now, we had kept our relationship under wraps. I didn’t know Mr. Riggs well enough to venture a guess about his reaction. I also knew it was time to come clean, whether I wanted to or not.

Placing a kiss on my lips, Troy replied. “No.”

We pushed our worries aside for the time being, and Troy took my hand, leading me into a shower stall. He turned the water on high and, after a minute, adjusted the temperature to something a degree or two shy of scalding. The heat felt heavenly.

What felt even better was Troy’s hands running over my body. Every nerve ending lit up as he squeezed some body wash onto a cloth and cleaned every inch of me. It was pure Nirvana when his fingers massaged shampoo into my scalp. The best was yet to come. Up until now, the furthest we’d gone was a few mutual handjobs.

When I finished rinsing, Troy dropped to his knees. The sight of him kneeling at my feet, looking up at me with wide eyes, was stunning. How did I get so lucky? I gasped when his tongue flicked out to taste me. I was rock hard and leaking. I would love to say that I savored every minute of my first blowjob, but being a typical sixteen-year-old, I blew my cork less than a minute after Troy attempted to take me to the back of his throat, gagging in the process.

I was pretty sure we both needed a lot more practice, especially when I noticed Troy had jerked himself off just as quickly.

My legs were jelly again, this time for a much better reason. Still, I rallied enough to pull Troy up and lather him all over. We both had the lanky leanness that only youth possesses. Time would eventually widen our shoulders, and hard work would fill out our muscles. But for now, we reveled in the way each other felt.

We allowed ourselves the luxury of letting the hot water cascade over and around us as we held each other. The need to touch, to feel, to connect was something we couldn’t deny. I saw the fear in Troy’s eyes when he didn’t know whether or not I was hurt. I would have felt the same had the situation been reversed.

After several minutes, Troy shut off the water and grabbed two towels from the shelf. I dried off and wrapped the terrycloth around my waist. Troy followed me to my bunk. I rummaged in my drawers and tossed a pair of boxer briefs and black sweatpants his way, grabbing a clean set for myself as well. Digging through another drawer, I found a couple of sweatshirts for us.

The bunkhouse always had extra socks and boots of all sizes. Ranching was dirty work, and Mr. Riggs made sure his employees didn’t have to worry about having multiple sets of footwear.

Jackets were also in plentiful supply. Troy’s dad ordered them in bulk with the ranch’s name and brand embroidered on them. We borrowed a couple and made our way up to the main house, being careful not to get our boots too muddy, kicking them off outside the door before entering.

We could hear voices coming from the kitchen. Troy put his finger to his lips as we tread lightly to the stairs. I followed him up to his room. I hadn’t been in here before, and I looked around after he shut the door.

“Mi casa, su casa,” he said, sweeping his arm in a grand gesture.

I don’t know what came over me, but Troy must’ve seen something in my face. He tugged me down on the bed and held me as I shook. I didn’t realize I was crying until he brushed the tears from my cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry,” I blubbered, wiping my nose on the back of my hand.

“Shhh. You have nothing to be sorry about. You could have died today. That’s a good enough reason for anyone to cry.”

Slowly, I relaxed in his arms and drifted off. We were sound asleep when a knock on the door woke us.

Troy’s dad called from the other side of the door. “Boys, it’s dinner time.”

Troy cleared his throat. “We’ll be down in a minute, Dad.”

I yawned and stretched, most of my muscles protesting loudly. Troy shook his head to clear the remnants of sleep from his head and slid off the bed. Immediately, I missed his warmth. But there was no time to wallow. I tilted my neck to crack it, then got up.

The dining room had been converted into a buffet. Leaves had been added to the table, and it was covered with trays and warming dishes of homey goodness. Fried chicken, burgers, and racks of ribs sent succulent scents wafting under our noses. There were at least three types of potatoes, and more vegetables than you could shake a stick at. My jaw may or may not have hit the floor.

I followed suit as Troy grabbed a plate and loaded it with food. The oversized living room had been transformed as well. The couches and chairs were pushed aside, replaced by a few long folding tables draped with checkered tablecloths. Troy’s dad and Carson were at one of the tables, and a few of the hired hands were at another. The rest would be trickling in after cleaning up in the bunkhouse.

Mr. Riggs nodded at us as we sat down. There was no mention of the stampede. The two adults discussed the schedule for the following day. Troy and I kept our eyes on our food and made sure our mouths stayed full.

Meg came bouncing in and plopped herself down next to me. “Is it true? Were you caught in the stampede? Were you scared? Oh my God, I would’ve shit myself!”

“Meg!” Mr. Riggs chided. “Language, please.”

“Oh, mon Dieu. Je me serais chié dessus,” she said with a straight face.

“Megan Elizabeth Riggs!”

“French is a language, Daddy!” she argued.

Mr. Riggs pinched the bridge of his nose and had to turn his face away from his daughter to hide his smile.

Troy and Carson wore twin expressions as they tried not to laugh.

I felt a bubble of amusement try to force its way out and coughed to cover it up. That girl was a spitfire. “Um, yeah. I got caught in the middle. But Aggie is a great horse and kept her head.”

“You did a fair amount of great riding yourself, son,” Mr. Riggs declared. “You stayed calm and didn’t panic. It meant the difference between getting out of there alive or not.”

His words felt heavy. I hated being reminded of how close I came to being seriously hurt or even killed. “I didn’t feel all that calm.”

Mr. Riggs blew out a breath. “Neither did the rest of us, kid.”

Hearing that made me feel marginally better. The rest of the mealtime was more laid back, especially when Nole and Pete came in. Where they put all the food they ate is anybody’s guess. Lucky for them, Mrs. P had made plenty. She’d traveled this road several times and knew exactly how much food hungry cowboys could pack away after a round-up. For her sake, I was glad the round-up only happened in the fall. Oh, there would be a smaller one in the spring after most of the calves were born. There would also be a few more days spent driving the herds to their summer feeding grounds, but that was a concern for another day. I felt another wave of tiredness seep into my bones.

“Boys, if you’re done, meet me in my office after you’ve cleared your place.”

I nodded and looked at Troy. He gave me a reassuring smile and gathered his plate and mine. I grabbed the glasses and silverware and followed him to the kitchen, where we rinsed everything quickly and loaded it into one of the dishwashers.

My stomach tried to knot itself up, but had a hard time with all the food in there. I took a deep breath and steeled myself for the conversation ahead.

Mr. Riggs was seated at his desk, and Carson was in one of the wingback chairs off to his side. Troy and I sat in the chairs in front of his desk.

“So, I take it you two are an item?”

We nodded.

“I see. How long?”

Troy answered. “Pretty much from the day we met.”

I watched as Mr. Riggs and Carson exchanged a look. I had a feeling they already knew, or at the very least, suspected it.

“Well, boys. I don’t have a problem with it,” Erik stated and then looked at his son. “But there is the issue of you being underage, Troy. You do realize that Morgan can get into some serious trouble if anyone wanted to press the issue?”

Even though I knew I had to confess, the words got stuck in my throat. Troy reached over and squeezed my hand.

I took a deep breath. “Um, about that. I don’t think it’s going to be a problem.”

Troy’s dad leaned forward, rested his elbows on his desk, and steepled his fingers together. “And why do you think that?”

I looked at the floor and admitted, “Because I’m only sixteen.”

Carson sucked in a sharp breath.

Mr. Riggs’ eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

It took me a while to get everything else out. My world became narrowly focused on the patch of floor between my feet. I stuttered and stumbled over my words. Whenever Troy tried to interject, his dad hushed him. Eventually, it all came out. Everything I had told Troy, as well as some emotions I had previously held back.

My anguish at losing my parents the way I did poured out of me. My disappointment at finding myself at the mercy of my uncle’s so-called ‘care’ tumbled from my mouth. I relived the terror I felt when I realized my uncle was dead because of me. The guilt I felt for assuming Morgan’s identity was overwhelming. Why I thought running was my only option. I laid it all out there, and in doing so, I bared my soul to a virtual stranger, hoping against hope that Troy was right and that Erik Riggs would be the savior I needed.

As I wept, I realized it wasn’t just a savior I needed.

I needed a miracle.