Stonegate Stables - 11. Chapter 11

"Hey, golden boy," I said when I flipped open my phone to TJ's call. "What's up?"

"Who do I call about a case of neglect?" His voice was abrupt.

"A horse? Where are you?"

"Henderson's. Out past Baker's place."

I knew the place. It had been owned by the Henderson clan since before I was born, and they'd been shit-heads for twice that long. I quit doing business with them six months after I took over Stonegate. They had money, but they were never happy with anything, and I finally told them to fuck off and get their horses out of my barn after they fired their third trainer in a month.

"What's the problem?"

"They've got a jumper that broke down, and they left him out to starve, I guess. He's in a back pasture with no water, and he's skin and bones. I'm amazed he's still on his feet. What the fuck is wrong with people?"

I could hear the anger and disgust in his voice. "Let me check with Sam. If he's that bad, we may be able to take him first and have them cited after. I'll call you right back."

Sam said screw the law, let's get the horse and we'll straighten it out later. I wasn't sure that was such a hot idea, but I couldn't stand the thought of the horse out there suffering two more weeks until all the paperwork got done, so I hitched up the small trailer, and we drove off to meet TJ and steal a horse.

TJ had a halter on him and was watering him a little at a time. The horse was in horrible shape, his hip bones jutted out far enough to hang your hat on, and my fingers rippled across his ribs when I ran a hand along his side. His coat was so dull and dirty that I couldn't really tell what color he was, other than brownish. Sam pumped a syringe full of vitamins into him, and we carefully walked him into the trailer. He was a big old thing, close to 17 hands (4 inches to a 'hand'), and would weigh around 1200 pounds at working weight. He loaded quietly and perked up a little when he saw the orchard grass Sam had put in the trailer for him. We drove him slowly back to Stonegate, Sam muttering about fucking assholes, and me contemplating life behind bars for horse rustling, which is practically a hanging offense in Texas.

Adam wandered out of the barn as we unloaded him, and stopped dead with his mouth hanging open. "Barney?"

Sam and I looked at each other, then at Adam. "You know him?" I asked.

"I think so. Jesus, what the hell happened to him?"

I snorted. "The Hendersons happened to him."

"Fuck. They ride 'em into the ground, and then put 'em out back to die. I don't know why they don't just sell them to the butcher and get it over with." He was walking around the horse as he spoke and stopped to look in his mouth. "It's him. He's missing two molars from some dental disaster. He's about 18 now cause I rode him a few times my last year in high school, and he was about 10 then. He was a hell of a jumper. God, what a shame. How did you end up with him?"

I told him about TJ finding him, and our rescue mission. Adam grinned and promised to visit me in prison. "Very funny. Make yourself useful and dump a bag of shavings into the stall next to Queenie." We got him settled in, munching hay and getting to know his neighbors.

Since TJ had come over a couple weeks ago, he'd been on my mind off and on, so I pulled him into the tack room and groped him a little, chewing on his neck while he giggled and squirmed. Apparently Adam had been home recently, so TJ was content at the moment, but he was a sweet, affectionate guy, and I kept thinking he could use a boyfriend, someone who was around all the time, and more his own than Adam or Dylan were.

Sam did a thorough work up on Barney, and later that day told me he needed food and vitamins, but was otherwise unharmed by his abandonment. His bowed tendon was another matter, and she said he'd probably never stand up to hard work, but would be a great pleasure horse for some lucky kid.

After a week of steady food and supplements, he was starting to fill in. A week after that he kicked up his heels for the first time when we turned him out to play in the round pen. I smiled as I watched him frolic, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction at having literally saved his life. Sam had pushed the paperwork through, and I now owned him for the abandonment claiming fee of $500. An idea was running around in the back of my head, but wasn't quite done yet, so I pushed it aside and called Dylan, catching him between meetings. “Hey, just called to see if you’re free tomorrow night. Vincent has a gig at the club so I could use some company.”

He was silent for so long that I glanced at my phone to make I hadn’t lost him. Finally he spoke. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not doing anything. It’s been a while, and I’d like to get together.”

Another long pause. “Okay. Seven?”

“Nah, come right after work. We’ll grill something.”

He agreed, and I snapped my cell shut, wondering if we would ever get back to being really comfortable with each other. I told Vincent that evening over fettuccini Alfredo. He studied his plate for a moment, then slid his eyes to me and smiled.

“I’m glad. I know you miss him.” I nodded and when we finished eating, we sat out by the jungle pool, listening to the frogs down by the creek and sipping Frangelico. When we went up to bed, he made love to me silently, something he hadn’t done since moving in, and I wondered about it.

As we settled down to sleep, he said softly in my ear, “Just not here.” I nodded. If I did let it progress to that point tomorrow night, I sure as hell wouldn't drag Dylan up to our bedroom. “I love you,” he said, and my throat closed with emotion.

“Are you trying for sainthood or something?"

He snorted softly and squeezed my arm. "Hardly. I just trust in what we have enough that I'm not threatened by Dylan. You've slept with him for twice as long as you've known me. What's a few more times gonna hurt?"

"Nothing. I guess I'm just uncomfortable because it's not what we agreed to."

"We didn't chisel it in stone, Sean. Real life requires some flexibility. Lighten up."

I was silent for a moment, trying to dredge up the guts to say what was really bothering me. "I'm afraid that because you said this was ok, that maybe you'll be asking me the same thing some day, and I won't want to say yes."

He froze for a moment. Grabbing me by the shoulders, he sat up and gave me a hard shake that clacked my teeth together. "Do you think I'd do that? Hold it over your head later? Don't you know me any fucking better than that by now? Goddamnit, Sean!"

He pushed me roughly away, jumped out of bed, and was out the door before I could say a word. He had never been angry at me before, and the bottom dropped out of my stomach as he left the room. A few minutes later, I went downstairs on shaky legs and found him in the den, curled on the sofa with his hands between his knees. His eyes were dark and angry as he watched me cross the room.

"You hurt me," he said quietly as I sank down on the floor near him. "I've never given you cause to think that I'd trade on a favor like that. Why did you say that? And it’s not even a favor, for Christ’s sake."

"I don't know. Vincent, I'm sorry." I wrapped my hand hesitantly around his leg, rubbing my thumb in the soft hollow of his ankle. "I'm just a little insecure, I guess. God knows why, since this is the best we've ever been." I shrugged. "Maybe that's it. I'm afraid it's too good to be true. Waiting for the bubble to burst." As my voice petered out at the end, he reached out a lean brown arm and pulled me up to him, rolling onto his back as I lowered my weight onto him.

"Ah, baby, nothing's gonna burst." The warmth of his hand on the back of my neck was like a tonic, and I burrowed into him. "Have a little more faith in me, in us. It would take a hell of a lot more than a couple rolls in the hay with Dylan to even put a ding in our relationship, at least for me. We're solid. You know that, right?"

I nodded, close to tears. I pulled the quilt over us, and we settled down there on the couch, kissing a little and comforting each other. In eight years, we'd never even argued, so this was a big deal, and it had shaken us both. Maria found us there in the morning, squeezing my shoulder gently. “Sean, time to get up.”

I thanked her, and we went up to shower, holding hands, and I caught his eyes on me several times as we dressed and ate. I walked him to the car and kissed him lingeringly. “I love you.”

He smiled at me and ran his hand inside the collar of my shirt to grip my bare shoulder. “I know you do.”

I rode Zena to the barn, thinking about the previous night. The fact that we had had our first argument now, after getting together, just made me understand how important we had become to each other in a short time.

That afternoon I got a call from William's attorney, a small bookish man named Martin Blackwell. I spoke with him now and then about matters regarding Stonegate, but since we were self-sufficient financially, we mostly just rolled along on our own, with weeks going by when I didn't speak to him or William. He asked me to come to his office tomorrow, saying only that it was very important and couldn't wait. I agreed immediately, wondering what in the world was up. The only thing that came to mind was that William wanted to sell Stonegate or something equally awful, and a small knot of uneasiness settled into the pit of my stomach.

Dylan made it over by 6. He knocked on the door, something he never did, so I trotted down the hall from the kitchen to open it, giving him a warm hug and a kiss, and taking the bottle of wine he'd brought. He was a little stiff with me, which I ignored, prattling on about my day, telling him a silly story about Cody getting tossed off a frisky new colt, and then getting covered in cow shit while trying to move the steers from one pasture to another. He finally chuckled and we headed out to the pool. I dropped my drawers and leaped in, figuring I had to set the tone for the evening. It took him a couple minutes, but soon he yanked my foot from below, almost drowning me in the process since I’d been inhaling at the time. I came up choking and blue in the face. He grabbed me in alarm, dragging me to the steps, and pounding on my back. I finally gagged up some water, and collapsed across his knees. He clutched me to him, panicky, his arms shaking.

"Jesus, Sean! Fuck! Are you okay? Vincent'll kill me if you're dead."

I nodded weakly and squeezed his leg. As I struggled to sit up, he supported me with his arm, and we leaned back against the steps. We sat there until I was breathing normally, then climbed out of the pool and flopped in a chaise lounge together, me between his legs on my side against his chest. He ran his hand protectively up and down my arm, patting me now and then.

"I'm alright," I assured him. We rested a little longer, then grilled burgers and ate while he told me about work. The senior partner was a dickhead, inept and arrogant, and Dylan was thinking of updating his resume and moving on to something more rewarding, maybe his own practice.

We cleaned up dinner and wandered back to the house, ending up in the den, our usual haunt, bringing along the Ben & Jerrys he'd brought. I’d thought a good deal about whether or not I’d have sex with him, but didn't have to decide after all. We curled up with the ice cream, and he fed us both as I channel surfed for something worth watching. I was sighing in frustration when he spoke.

"Sean?" His voice was tentative and I glanced at him. He was staring into the ice cream container.

"Yeah?"

"Would you do something for me?"

"Of course, if I can."

"I don't wanna fuck."

My eyebrows rose. That wasn't what I had expected. "Ohhh-kaaay."

"I want to watch you." His eyes slid to mine, then away.

My eyebrows dropped into a frown. "Watch me . . . ?"

A flush rose up his neck. "You know. . . "

My eyebrows shot back up again. "You wanna watch me jack off?"

He nodded, memorizing the inside of the ice cream carton. "Like when we were kids."

I started to smile then. Watching each other masturbate was the first sexual activity I'd ever had with another person. God, those were great orgasms. We had no control at all, blasting cum all over the place after seven strokes or something ridiculous, but they were wildly intense, partly because it was such a bad thing to be doing, but also because someone was watching. I poked him in the side with my finger, and he finally looked at me.

"Okay, but you have to do it, too."

He smiled back, nodding. I grabbed the ice cream from him and set it on the coffee table, reaching into the drawer for the handy little bottle of lube. I keep them all over the house - you just never know when you might need one. I turned his hand over and poured a puddle into his palm, then dribbled some over my hardening dick. We leaned back against opposite ends of the couch, our legs stretched out between us. I started to stroke myself loosely, enjoying the sensation of my warm hand and all that lube. Dylan was fondling his balls with one hand, rolling his cock back and forth between his thumb and fingers, moving his foreskin up over the head now and then.

The sight of his cock in his own hand was familiar and exciting, bringing back all sorts of memories of us over the years. We took our time getting to the finish line, slowing now and then to watch each other as we'd get close, then back away. I rubbed the sole of my foot along the inside of his thigh, enjoying the play of his muscles as they tightened with the movement of his hips. Watching him pull up firmly, milking fat shiny drops of precum from his slit sent me past the point of no return, and I came hard, grunting and growling as I showered my belly with cum. Dylan watched me until I quit shuddering and could open my eyes enough to see him. He locked eyes with me for a moment, then looked down at my cock, took three quick strokes and climaxed. I watched his legs tense as he shot one long stream after another. He had always shot further than me, and tonight was no exception. By the time he was finished, cum dripped from his cheek and ran in rivulets down his chest.

We grinned at each other, and wiped up with napkins from the ice cream. He pushed me down on the couch, squeezing my dick gently and kissing me. “I’m sorry I was such an asshole out there in the woods. I really was happy for you, but I thought it meant I’d lose you somehow. I know that’s not gonna happen now.”

He got dressed, and I walked him to the door where he gave me a deep, wet kiss that curled my toes. “Tell Vincent that one's for him.” I laughed, and watched him drive away before I closed the door.

Vincent came home a couple hours later and eyed me. “Well?”

“Nothing happened, we just beat off. Oh, and he left this for you.” I duplicated Dylan's kiss, which he returned eagerly.

“You jerked each other off?” he asked curiously.

“No, I never touched him. I think he was re-playing our first encounter or something. It was fun, but it made me horny for the real deal.” I’d been rubbing against him while I spoke, and was rewarded with a bigger bulge in his white chef’s trousers. “Did you bring me home a big Italian salami?” I teased as I squeezed his cock.

He grinned, shaking his head at my foolishness, and yanked his pants down to his thighs, allowing his impressive erection to sway out from his stomach. “Yes, honey, I did, and you have to eat it all at once.”

I dropped to my knees and sunk my mouth down onto him, causing him to tense for a moment and groan with pleasure. He fisted both hands in my hair and I sucked him till he was close, then tugged his pants back up, grabbed him by the hand, and practically ran him up the stairs. We undressed on the way down the hall, and grabbed each other the minute we hit the bed, neither of us in the mood for preliminaries.

We fucked.

Sorry, Wade, there was no 'making love' about it. We licked and bit, probed and pounded, pinched, stroked, and sucked until we both reached noisy, intense climaxes. We hadn’t done that since he’d moved in, and it was great. Gentle and tender is wonderful, and I prefer it as a steady diet, but sometimes I just want to be mauled, and Vincent had been rough enough to make me come like a freight train. I could feel bruises starting on my hip and wrists, there was a bite mark on my shoulder that had broken the skin, and I knew my asshole would remind me of tonight for the next couple days.

I felt wonderful.

The next morning I was a little early for my meeting with Martin, but his secretary showed me right in. He came around the desk to greet me, continuing to hold my hand as we sat down on the sofa. "I have some bad news," he said softly. "William is dead."

I looked at him, my mouth hanging open, trying to get his words to make sense. William dead? I'd spoken to him not a week ago when I called him regarding some work he was having done on his house. Martin was smiling at me gently, letting me absorb the news.

"Jesus, what happened?"

"He had a heart attack in his sleep yesterday morning, early. He'd had a heart condition for years, and this was not unexpected."

Well, it sure as hell was ‘unexpected’ to me! I sat there blinking, trying to think through the implications of William no longer being the owner of Stonegate. God knows what this would mean to me, my employees, and the horses who resided there.

"Sean. I need to explain some things to you. Are you all right?" He rose and went behind his desk, arranging several file folders neatly in front of him. I nodded at him, and tried to pull myself together. I was remembering William's kindness to me after my accident, the several good months we had spent together prior to that, his confidence in allowing me to run Stonegate as I saw fit. Now it was all over. I shook my head, blew out a breath, and concentrated on Martin.

"You're aware, I believe, that William had no close family. He revised his will five years ago, and has not touched it since. Accordingly, his considerable financial assets will be distributed to a variety of charitable organizations that were dear to William's heart."

"Two years ago, he took steps to ensure that Stonegate Stables was paid off completely. I have the deed in my possession." Martin shuffled some papers, holding one up for my inspection. "The land and buildings, including his home, are free and clear of any holds, liens, or encumbrances. These tangible assets have been left to a single individual." He paused and raised his eyes to me. "That individual would be you, Sean. Stonegate Stables and all its contents and holdings, including the current balances of the various bank accounts associated with it, belong to you in their entirety."

My mouth had dropped open again, and I gaped at him, unable to process so much information at once.

"Me?" I said stupidly.

"Yes. It shouldn't be such a surprise. William was very fond of you, and felt that Stonegate would continue to prosper under your stewardship, as it has for the past seven years. I must say that I agreed with his decision." He smiled at me again, and I wondered what it must be like to change lives with the creation of a mere sheet of paper.

"I have a number of documents for you to sign, if you’re able. It will take about 30 days for the transfer of ownership to take effect. I will be trustee during that time, but have no intention of interfering in the operation of Stonegate. Oh, the Gulfstream 150 that William flew everywhere is owned by Stonegate, so it is now at your disposal, as well. As am I, Sean. This is a lot to absorb in one sitting, and I want you to know that you can always come to me for assistance - with this, or any legal matters."

I shook my head. "I don't know what to say. I can't believe William is gone, let alone that he left the stable to me."

"We will all miss William; he was a good man. Enjoy his gift as he would have wanted you to." He turned a thick file folder toward me, and began to direct me through the signing of about 50 pages of legal papers, real estate documents, bank account signature forms, and I don't know what else. I quit trying to figure out what they were, and just signed where he told me to.

By the time I left his office, it was beginning to sink in. I was sad that William was dead. During our time together, he had been a considerate, if unimaginative, lover, always generous and kind to me. I was thrilled that I owned Stonegate, and I was also filled with a huge sense of responsibility that the welfare of 12 employees and 32 horses was now completely on my shoulders. I drove home on auto pilot, changing from dress slacks and button down to breeches and polo shirt, then drove slowly to the stable. I sat in the car next to the office for so long that Teresa finally came out and walked around to lean down and look in my window.

"Sean, what in the world is wrong? You're pale as a ghost."

I stared at her, trying to formulate coherent thoughts. "Is everyone here today?" She nodded. "Good. I want a full staff meeting at noon. Order lunch from the deli." She nodded again, curiosity all over her face, but I got out of the car and shut myself in my office, making notes for the meeting.

A few minutes before noon, Teresa knocked on the door and stuck her head in. "It's almost noon. I set it up in the stallion barn so we'd have enough room for everyone." The stallion barn wasn't in use at the moment, since we didn't have any stallions on the premises and didn't need the space for other horses.

All faces turned to me when I came through the big door, and I looked around at the people I'd worked with for years. Teresa had put hay bales in a big U in the barn aisle. Tommy and Alejandro were sitting thigh to thigh on the closest one, eating sandwiches. I smiled at Tommy, remembering how I'd hired him 13 years ago, on the day I'd signed my first rider contract and decided to splurge on my very own groom. He looked back curiously, trustingly, and I felt the weight of responsibility settle a little more heavily onto my shoulders.

"William Shepard, the owner of Stonegate, died of a heart attack yesterday morning," I told them in a solemn voice. "The details of the service are still being arranged, but everyone can go, if you like, without losing any hours. Figure it out with Teresa." I gave them a few moments to think about that, seeing concern for themselves on most faces. Only a few long timers had known William well, and were staring at the ground or talking to each other quietly as they responded to the news of his death.

"William bequeathed Stonegate Stables to me. I’m now the owner." I stopped, watching comprehension replace apprehension on most faces. "For now, it's business as usual. But I do plan to make some changes. Please think about what you do around here, what your day consists of, and be ready to discuss it with me in detail in a week or two. That's it for now. Enjoy your lunch."

I left the barn before anyone could corner me with questions, and drove to Corleone's. Vincent was maitre'd today and was seating a party of four when I came in. I watched him as he pulled out chairs for the women, made menu suggestions, and squeezed the shoulder of one man as he walked back toward the entry. He looked good in his pleated black trousers and crisp white shirt, his black hair waving softly over his collar. He didn't see me until he was close, glancing up with a professional smile that melted first into the real thing, then changed quickly to alarm. "Sean, what're you doing here in the middle of the day? Is something wrong?"

"Can you take a minute?" He waved a waiter over, and guided me by the elbow to the quiet office next to the kitchen. He turned to face me the instant he closed the door.

"Everything okay?" His eyes searched my face.

"Just hug me," I told him, stepping close to put my arms around him, pressing my face into his neck, letting the familiar comfort of his embrace soothe me. I pulled him down onto the sofa and told him about my meeting with Martin. When I was finished, he stared at me for a moment.

"Jesus, you’ve had quite a morning." He hugged me again. "Did you eat yet?" When I shook my head, he went to the desk, spoke quickly into the phone, then came back and pulled me up by the hand. "Come on."

We went to one of the small private dining alcoves tucked here and there around the restaurant, where our lunch was just being set out. We ate and talked, and gradually I became comfortable with the idea that Stonegate now belonged to me. Owning a large stable was not something I'd ever given any thought to, but now that I had one, I found myself thinking of it in new ways. We finished eating and I felt like I could cope again, so I kissed Vincent goodbye and drove back to Stonegate, stopping in surprise just inside the main gate as a smile spread across my face.

Alejandro and Tommy were just putting the finishing touches on a change to the large sign. One of the lower lines now read: Sean Flanagan - Owner/Operator. A bit premature perhaps, since poor William wasn't even in the ground yet, but it filled me with a sense of pride and ownership, and eased a bit of the ache of knowing William was gone. I got out of the car and walked over to them, putting an arm around each of their shoulders, admiring their handiwork. My chest tightened and my voice wobbled a little when I spoke, but I didn't care. It was an emotional day.

"Thank you," I said, pulling them close to me. "I really needed that." We gazed in silence at the sign for a few minutes; then I hugged them again, got back in the car. I drove slowly up the long lane, looking at the beautiful old stone buildings, and the miles of sparkling white fences, as if I'd never seen them before -- it all belonged to me.