Page 49 of His Fresh Start Cowboy
After letting the horses drink again at the creek, Hugo tethered them to a nearby tree for the night. With the sun down, the cattle wandered less, some of them settling down for the night in clusters. Brutus sniffed the air a few times but didn’t seem to sense any wild animals they should worry about. Brand sat with a shotgun near him, just in case, and they settled in to play cards for a while.
One of Hugo’s favorite childhood games was War, because there was no real strategy. It was the luck of the cards that went down, and they played round after round, each getting more competitive than the next, until Hugo won the game.
“Since we’re sitting here pretending to be ten-year-olds at camp,” Brand drawled, “how about Go Fish next?”
“Sure. I’ll kick your ass at that, too, old man.”
Go Fish was somehow more fun at twenty-seven than it ever had been at ten, and Hugo allowed himself to enjoy the game. Brand grinned like a fool, clearly relishing the chance to do nothing more stressful than play a children’s game for a few hours under the stars. No real responsibilities, no fear he was making a disastrous decision. Other than their brief dalliance in the hayloft, he’d never seen Brand so open and at ease with himself. As if the weight of the world—and his parents’ ranch—wasn’t precariously perched on both shoulders.
Hugo liked seeing this side of Brand, and it was the most relaxing evening he’d ever spent with the man. Fun like his nights with Elmer, but also different. More meaningful, because it made Hugo hope he and Brand could be real friends one day. That he could finally get to know the man Brand was now, not just the man Hugo remembered. Even if the romantic/attraction stuff didn’t work out, Hugo would take all the friends he could get.
Hugo yawned first. Brand waved him off, so Hugo crawled into their tent, shucked his boots, and sprawled out on top of one sleeping bag. Sleep found him fast, and he woke sometime later to the much softer crackle of the fire, and also the quiet snuffle of Brand snoring beside him. He rolled to his other side, barely able to see in the gloom. Brand slept facing him, mouth slightly open, arms wrapped around the edge of his own sleeping bag. Peaceful and handsome, and all Hugo wanted to do was lean over and kiss him. Or maybe cuddle up closer.
Both were very, very bad ideas.
He had to pee, though, so he put his boots back on and crept out as quietly as he could. Found a bush to water and relieved himself. Brutus watched him from a spot in between the glowing campfire and the tent. Hugo stoked the fire a bit, mostly so the light could keep any stray animals at bay. He scratched behind Brutus’s ears for a minute, so grateful for the loyal dog, and beyond happy he’d almost completely healed from his wounds. He still had missing patches of fur, but it would grow back over time.
“You’re a good boy,” Hugo whispered in the quiet night, broken only by the occasional moo from the herd. “Keep protecting your family, Brutus.”
Brutus licked Hugo’s hand, then settled his chin on his front paws.
“Night, boy.”
Hugo went back to bed. Brand didn’t move a muscle.
Brand woke to the wonderful scents of coffee and bacon, and for a split second, he wasn’t sure why his bed was so hard. Then he clued into the sleeping bag and tent, and that it wasn’t Mom cooking up a big breakfast for her, him, and Dad. He stretched, put on his boots, and crawled out of the tent. Hugo was warming corn bread and cooking up country ham in the skillet for breakfast, plus a tin pot of coffee.
He took a minute to water a bush, then sat near Hugo but not too close. Brutus was already out there, wandering with the cattle, who mostly ignored him in favor of the abundance of grass around them. “Sleep okay?” Brand asked as he accepted a mug of coffee.
“Not bad.” Hugo sipped his own mug, perkier this morning than he had been when they’d first arrived at camp last night. “I got a lot of practice sleeping on the ground back at Clean Slate. Doing the overnight trips.”
“I remember. The week Rem and I flew out to be real guests for the whole experience. It was fun. Great views.”
“The best views. These are pretty special, too.”
Brand didn’t dare hope that was Hugo flirting, but there had been a subtle inflection in his voice.
“So there any fish in that stream?” Hugo asked, jacking his thumb.
“Doubt it. Runs dry most of the summer, but I packed a bit of line and tackle in with the other gear if you wanna try.”
After they ate and cleaned up, Hugo seemed to take the fish question as a challenge, going out to the stream while Brand checked on the horses and herd. A few hours later, Hugo smugly brought six sunfish back to camp, which they carefully scaled and cleaned, then cooked up for lunch. Brand gave a few bites to Brutus, who seemed to enjoy the treat.
They chatted about nonsense for a while as they rode around, checking the perimeter of where the herd had gathered. No one had wandered off, which was always a danger, especially this far from home. A stuck or injured bull would be hard to get back home without assistance.
Brand radioed in with Dad late that afternoon, using their long-range walkies. All was well, no difficulties with the herd. Dad asked how Hugo was doing. “He’s fine, plenty used to camping. I think he misses having that ghost town story to tell to tourists.”
Dad chuckled. “Probably so. Check in tomorrow?”
“Of course. Out.”
Hugo was out on No Name, running the far perimeter of the north pasture, checking for any stragglers, so Brand wandered among the herd on his horse. Weaving in and out, checking for any limps or signs of distress. They seemed to be eating well, and he spotted a few that would definitely be ready for butchering soon. Heavy and healthy with sets of horns that would likely adorn someone’s man cave sooner or later.
Brand had never been a fan of hanging dead animals or their parts as decorations, but right now their ranch needed the income. Otherwise, it would just go to waste when the beast was slaughtered.
Hugo stayed away until around dusk, coming back to camp in time for heated canned chili and the last of the corn bread. They both ate with Brutus nearby, and it was the most natural thing in the world to Brand. Out here in Mother Nature’s territory with his dog, a boy he liked, and animals all around them. Peaceful and right. He just wished Hugo would freakingtalkto him.
After they’d cleaned up and were doing nothing more taxing than watching the fire shoot sparks into sky, Brand blurted out, “Have you ever been in love before?”
