Take the Long Road Home - 2. Chapter 2

TROY

I leaned forward slightly, urging Duncan to go faster as we cut through the warm air of the Indian summer we’d been experiencing. I was eager to get back to the ranch. Normally, I enjoyed being out all day checking the fence lines. However, it had been a long-ass day of too many repairs for my liking. I lost count of how many posts we had to straighten and secure. It felt like all of them. Twice. Resetting them took time and muscle, and all I wanted was a hot shower and some of Mrs. P’s home cooking. I didn’t care what was on the menu; everything she made was divine.

As we crested a hill, the ranch house and barns came into view. Behind me, I heard Nole and Pete whoop and holler. They were just as ready as I was for a good meal. Duncan’s ears flattened as he raced down the hill, easily leaving the other two behind. As we got closer, I saw Carson standing with someone in the barn’s doorway. I sat up and pulled back on the reins. Duncan was a big stallion, and his momentum caused him to plow to a stop. Dust swirled around us in a cloud. I knew I was grinning like a fool as I jumped down and brushed off my jeans.

I looked over to see who Carson was with. The guy standing there was a sight to behold. Faded Wranglers clung to his hips and thighs in just the right way. His t-shirt was snug across his shoulders and chest, but loose where it was tucked into his jeans. His eyes, though. Oh. My. God. Dad had a bottle of Blanton’s Silver Edition Single Barrel Bourbon that occupied the coveted spot in his liquor collection. Those eyes were the exact same color, and they were currently locked onto mine.

Begrudgingly, I tore my eyes away and adjusted my hat before flipping the reins over Duncan’s head to lead him to the barn. “Hey, Carson.”

I snuck a glance at the new guy.

“Hey, Troy.” Then he looked past me and nodded. “Nole, Pete.”

Oh, yeah. I forgot my two workmates were right behind me.

Carson nodded at the stranger. “This is Morgan. He’s our new ranch hand.”

I stepped closer, pulled off my work glove, and stuck out my hand. When Morgan gripped it, a tiny static shock zapped us. His grip was strong and warm. “Welcome, it’s nice to meet you,” I said.

“Likewise,” Morgan replied, his eyes locked on mine.

Carson’s voice broke whatever spell had a hold of us, and I dropped his hand. “Troy, your dad wants to see you after you’ve taken care of Duncan and cleaned up.” He turned to Nole and Pete. “Mrs. P is back. Dinner at six. Don’t be late.”

“I’ll see you later,” I said to Morgan before leading Duncan into the barn. I made quick work of removing his saddle and bridle. After slipping a halter on him, I walked him until he cooled down, then settled him into his stall for a quick groom. I loved this time with my horse. The monotonous movement of stroking the brush across the animal usually settled me. Tonight was different, though. My thoughts kept drifting to Morgan.

The guy looked to be my age, but he couldn’t be. Dad never hired anyone under eighteen. There had never been a ranch hand that young, or that hot. Not since I’d realized a few years ago that I liked guys better than girls had I felt such instant attraction.

I shook my head and finished grooming Duncan, poured a measure of grain into his bucket before checking the water, and tossed an armful of hay into the stall. I double-checked that the latch on the stall door was secure before leaving. The silly horse had a bad habit of trying to unlatch his door and make a break for the mares. Horny beast. We had to install an extra fastener near the bottom of his stall door that he couldn’t reach.

At the house, I weighed the pros and cons of stopping to see Dad before or after my shower. A quick pit sniff assured me I wasn’t too rank, so I stopped by his office first.

Dad smiled when I rapped on his doorframe. He pushed the stack of invoices aside and beckoned me in. “Hey there. How’d it go on the fence line today?

I flopped into the chair. “It was a lot of cattywumpus posts, but we got the entire north pasture done. A few still need replacing, but we need more wire. Nole said he’d have Carson pick it up on his next supply run. So, what’s up, Dad?”

“Have you met the new hand?”

I prayed I wasn’t blushing. “Yeah. Carson introduced him when we got back. I gotta admit, I’m surprised. We don’t exactly need the help. Once the roundup is over, we won’t have as much to take care of.”

“That’s true, but I hired him because I’ve decided to go ahead and buy the mares I’ve had my eye on all season. The storage barn will need to be renovated to make room. Carson and Nole will take care of that. With Jack gone, I didn’t want to leave the rest of the stock to Pete. That boy is good at what he does, but he’s not quick. Having an extra hand around will be good for everyone. You’ve got school to concentrate on.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Is anyone still giving you trouble?”

I shook my head. “Nah, that’s all blown over. My course schedule sucks this year. I’ve got English with Mrs. Bauman, and she’s the worst. Then there’s chemistry with Mr. Huong. He’s hard to understand, but at least he’s nice. The subject matter is a beast. I couldn’t get World History or Indigenous Studies, so I settled for American History. I swear, if I have to do another report on the American Revolution, I’m gonna drop out. I had to do that in fifth, seventh, and eighth grade. I’m over it.”

Dad chuckled. “I see your point. At least you know the material, so it should be easy.”

“I guess so.”

“Go get washed up for dinner. Oh, and Troy? I don’t mind you showing Morgan the ropes, but don’t let it interfere with your schoolwork. Carson is more than capable of showing him what to do.”

I turned and rolled my eyes. “Yes, sir!”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, boy!” Dad never missed a trick.

I laughed as I took the stairs two at a time. After locking my door to keep my nosy sister out, I stripped down and tossed my filthy clothes into the hamper.

I looked at the time on my phone. So much for a long, hot shower. A quick scrub would have to do. I cranked the hot water on and gave my hair a quick introduction to the shampoo before rinsing, then doing the same to the rest of me with my body wash. Ten minutes later, I was clomping back down the stairs and following the tantalizing aromas to the dining room.

Dad was sitting at the head of the table with Meg on one side and Carson on the other. I ruffled my sister’s hair as I walked by. She huffed and swatted at me. I ignored her, and I dropped into my seat at the opposite end of the table from Dad. As soon as I pulled myself closer, I heard the rest of the gang come through the front door.

Nole was the first through the doorway. He sat next to Meg. “Hey, Spitfire, how was hula class?”

Meg giggled at the running joke. She gave her standard answer, “Ballet was good. How was mucking out stalls? You'd better have done a good job so Dad doesn’t fire you.”

Nole grinned as Pete sat next to Carson.

Morgan stood there, unsure what to do.

Dad gestured toward the two open seats next to me. “Take either seat. Troy won’t bite.”

Unless he wants me to. Immediately, my face heated up. Oh, shit. Where did that thought come from?

I cleared my throat, and I smiled at Morgan. “I’ll leave the biting to SuzyQ. She’s Meg’s horse and is spicier than a ghost pepper.”

“You deserved to be nipped,” Meg retorted. “You failed to pay the carrot tax. What did you expect?”

“Spoiled horse,” I shot back. Meg stuck her tongue out at me. I was about to make another snarky comment when Mrs. P. came in from the kitchen carrying a large platter of meat. Nole and Pete jumped up.

“Grab the stuff on the counter, boys,” she instructed.

They came back with more serving dishes. Mrs. P had outdone herself with grilled chicken thighs, sage stuffing, mashed potatoes, roasted veggies, and her homemade herb gravy. I couldn’t help notice how Morgan’s eyes widened at the spread.

Once Mrs. P took her seat, it was everyone for themselves as the food was passed around. Except Morgan, who only took small portions.

I leaned in close and whispered, “It’s okay to take as much as you want.” For a split second, the new ranch hand looked like a deer caught in the headlights. It was as if he didn’t believe he could have more.

“Oh, Thanks.” Morgan instantly reached for more stuffing. I didn’t blame him. Mrs. P’s sage stuffing was to die for.

After the food was passed around, I cleared my throat. “So, where are you from, and what brings you out this way, Morgan?”

He swallowed hard. “I-uh, I needed a change of scenery.”

“Troy, it’s not polite to pry,” Dad chastised.

I didn’t think I was prying. They were normal questions, ones I’d heard Dad ask guests before.

“It’s okay, Mr. Riggs. I think Troy is just curious.” Morgan unconsciously licked his bottom lip before looking at me. “My living arrangements weren’t the best. My uncle took me in after my parents died when I was ten. He didn’t like kids and only agreed to look after me because it came with a monthly check.”

I slumped in my chair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dig.”

“It’s water under the bridge. I’ve been much happier since I left.” He smiled, and his eyes twinkled a little. “I think I can safely say my uncle won’t be getting a Christmas card from me this year.”

“I should hope not!” I agreed, liking how relaxed Morgan looked.

The rest of the dinner conversation revolved around the ranch's comings and goings. When dinner wrapped up, Dad nodded at Mrs. P. “Thank you for dinner, Annie. It was delicious as always. Troy and Morgan will take care of the cleanup.”

That was everyone’s cue. Nole and Pete added their thanks, as did Morgan and I.

I took the lead and started gathering plates. “I usually bring the dirty dishes in first. Do you want to scrape and load the dishwasher, or pack up leftovers and wipe down the table?”

“I don’t know where anything goes, so I’ll scrape and load the dishwasher if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine. I’ve been doing it by myself since Jack left. It’s nice to have help.”

“It’s good of you all to take care of cleaning up.”

“It’s Dad’s unspoken rule— he pays for all the food, Mrs. P and Meg cook, and us peons take turns cleaning up.”

“Sounds fair enough.”

“It is,” I replied. We worked in silence for a moment, then, letting curiosity get the better of me, I asked, “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I,uh, just turned nineteen.”

“Nice. When was your birthday?”

He focused on his job. “Uh— um, September thirteenth.”

I smiled. “Well, happy belated birthday.”

“Thanks.”

We finished cleaning the dining room and kitchen in companionable silence. I had so many questions, but Morgan seemed reserved. Hopefully, that would change if he stayed on for a while. I’d really like that.

I gathered the wet dish towels to toss in the laundry room on my way by. “Thanks for helping out.”

Morgan nodded as he turned to leave. “It was no problem. I didn’t mind. Have a good evening.”

A fleeting second of panic hit me, and I blurted, “Hey. Um, tomorrow’s Sunday, and if you want, maybe I could show you around the property? Carson will be gone all morning on the weekly supply run. I don’t know if Nole or Pete is going with him, but I thought I could show you the lay of the land?”

Morgan stopped and turned back. He was gorgeous when he smiled. “I’d really like that. Thanks.”

“Alright then. I like to sleep in, so is seven o’clock good? I’ll meet you here for breakfast?”

He gaped. “Seven is sleeping in?”

I laughed. “It is when you normally get up at four.”

Morgan nodded amusingly. “I guess I’ll see you at seven, Troy.” With that, he turned, his footsteps echoed in the hallway as he headed towards the door.

I grinned like an idiot as I climbed the stairs. I could hear Meg giggling in her room. She was probably online with her best friend, laughing at stupid YouTube videos of pandas falling out of trees. Once in my room, I didn’t bother with the lights. Moonlight streamed through the window, and I sat on the built-in window seat overlooking the barn and bunkhouse. I caught a glimpse of Morgan as he disappeared into the bunkhouse.

I watched for a few more minutes, then pulled myself away. It was still early, so I decided to knock out some of my homework so I’d have the rest of the weekend free. Chemistry was going to kill me this year. I pulled the dreaded book from my backpack and proceeded to teach myself everything in the chapters Huong went over this week. The man was nice, but his accent was thick and barely decipherable. Plus, it was the first class of the day, and nobody was wide awake at that hour.

Three hours later, I rubbed my eyes and closed the workbook. Enough was enough. I changed into a worn pair of sleep pants and tossed my t-shirt over my desk chair before crawling under the covers with a copy of The Lord of the Rings. I knew as sure as the sun would rise that Bauman would spring us with a pop quiz on Monday. I think I fell asleep halfway through the third chapter.

At six o’clock, there was quacking. I hit the snooze button. Meg had set the alarm to quack like a flock of ducks to annoy me. Honestly, I didn’t care what it sounded like, as long as it pulled me from sleep; I didn’t give a rat’s ass if it was quacking ducks or wheezing old men. Yeah, she tried that one, too.

After two snoozes, I stretched and briefly thought about taking care of my morning wood but decided the need to pee trumped the need to get off. I tossed the covers off and padded barefoot to the bathroom, scratching my abs as I went. After taking care of business, my thoughts drifted to the day ahead. A whole day to spend with Morgan. A whole day to admire the way his ass looked in jeans. The new ranch hand had a nice body. He was a little too skinny, but Mrs. P’s cooking would remedy that.

My dick was on board with the thought of Morgan’s jeans-clad ass. “Fuck it.” I grabbed a towel, slung it over the bar, and turned on the hot water. The long shower I didn’t have time for last night was happening this morning. The hot spray felt delicious as I stepped beneath and poured some body wash into my hand. My cock jumped as I fisted it and gave a few firm strokes. Twenty minutes and a satisfying orgasm later, I dried off and wrapped the towel around my waist. I pulled a clean tee and dark jeans from my closet, then grabbed clean boxer briefs and socks from the drawer.

After pulling on my boots, I stood and tucked my shirt into my jeans, then went downstairs just in time to see Morgan open the front door.

“Good timing!” I called out in greeting.

Morgan grinned. “Nole said Mrs. P left sausage, bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits for breakfast. They’re my favorite.”

“Mine too. I don’t know what Mrs. P puts into her sausage, but she'd better leave us the recipe in her will. Come on, let’s eat.”

I led the way to the kitchen, where three baskets of butcher-paper-wrapped sandwiches sat on the counter, each labeled with what type of meat and cheese they contained.

Morgan’s eyes went wide. “Wow, when does she have time to do all this?”

“She spends one day a week prepping stuff we can just heat and eat in case she’s not here for whatever reason. Plus, Sunday is always a grab-and-go breakfast. Come here for a minute.” I beckoned with a crooked finger, and Morgan followed me across the kitchen to a short hall that led to an adjoining room that had been an addition long before he was born.

I swept my arm out grandly. “Ta-daa! This is the cold pantry. The walk-in refrigerators are on the right, and the freezers are on the left. There’s a list of everything inside each one next to the doors, and everything inside is labeled. If Mrs. P is gone and you’re hankering for something not in the kitchen, then feel free to poke around in here. Just make sure you cross off what you take from the list, or she’ll kill you.”

“Noted.”

I gave him a little push back toward the kitchen, where we each grabbed two sandwiches and a cup of coffee. Morgan fixed his the same way I did mine: a healthy splash of cream and an overloaded spoonful of sugar. After finishing his sandwiches, I saw Morgan eyeing the basket again, so I reached in, grabbed two more, and tossed one to him with a wink. “We’re growing boys.”

Morgan shook his head, grinned, and bit into the wonderful deliciousness.

When we were done, I stood, clapped Morgan on the shoulder, and said. “Let’s ride!”