Page 99 of The Texas Sterling Collection
“You need my guys to find them?”
“No…Felipe and a couple of ranch hands can do that. The horses know the hands, so they’ll be less apprehensive.”
“How about I stop by Felipe’s and let him know?” Jack asked.
“I appreciate that, Jack. Rod and I both need a stiff drink and a hot shower.”
“You guys go on in. I’ll have my guys bring Shifty in for questioning, and I’ll call if anything needs your attention.”
Wyl stood. “Oh…you want to inspect the rock that came through the window?”
“We can’t do much with a rock, but hang onto that note. I won’t mess with it tonight but will want that as evidence.”
“Okay, Jack. Just wanted you to know.” Wyl tugged at Rod’s arm.
“Yeah…thanks, Jack.” Still shivering, Rod stood to follow Wyl.
* * *
Wyl led Rod through the back door into the house, both still wrapped in blankets. “How about a drink?” Wyl asked. In the den, the front door was still open from when Wyl rushed out and found the fire.
“I sure need one. Martini would be nice, but I’ll take a shot of bourbon.” Rod’s tired voice reflected the stress of the evening. The wet clothes still clung to their bodies. They stank of smoke and sweat.
“I sure bet Shifty is the one who threw the rock and set the fire.” Wyl poured a Jack Daniel’s shot for each of them, handing one to Rod.
“He did threaten to get a gun. Maybe he figured a fire would do more damage.” Still trembling, Rod took the shot glass from Wyl and downed the bourbon in one gulp.
“Maybe this wouldn't have happened if you hadn’t gotten so bold with him.” Wyl spat out the words. He knew it was wrong, but anger-fueled stress and waning adrenaline overruled common sense. He glared at his husband.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rod shot back, still shivering. “The guy threatened us. Did you expect me to sit back and take it?”
“You fucking all but called him a loser and a nobody.” A shiver shook Wyl’s accusation.
“I don’t like your tone,Wylton, and I don’t like your fucking insinuations.”
Wyl hammered his shot glass onto the bar. “I’m not fucking insinuating anything.” He waved his arms in the air, still clinging to the blanket, emphasizing his point. “I’m stating fucking facts.” Wyl reached for the bourbon bottle and poured himself another shot.
“The fucking facts are that I defended my husband, who I thought loved me. But apparently, I’m not even worth another shot of bourbon. What the fuck is your problem?” Rod slammed his shot glass down onto the bar.
“A quarter million dollars’ worth of horses in a burning barn and an out-of-control ex-employee who has an issue with my lifestyle. THAT’S my fucking problem!” Wyl spat out the words more forcefully than he intended, gulping his shot and slamming his glass onto the bar before reaching for the decanter. His brain told him to shut up, but his emotions carried him where he should not have gone.
“YOUR lifestyle, is it? So, you’re not in love with me anymore? Is that it?” Rod shouted.
Seeing the hurt in Rod’s eyes, the situation punched Wyl in the chest with such force that it almost pushed him backward. Rod did not cause his anger and frustration. Shifty, and possibly a co-conspirator, caused the fire that damaged the barn and threatened their security. A situation that, given the right circumstances, could have taken his husband from him. Shifty could have followed through on his promise and shot Rod through the window. Rod was more hurt and angrier than he had ever seen him, so it might be too late. Regret tore through his soggy, smoky, exhausted brain. He set the decanter on the bar and reached for his husband. “Oh my god… I’m so sorry. Come here, baby.”
“Don’t you fucking baby me!” Rod jumped back, knocking Wyl’s arms out of the way and putting space between them, his wet blanket falling to the floor. “You accused me of starting this whole fucking thing and all but said you’re sorry you ever met me.” Rod’s voice broke, and he fisted the tears away. “A hug won’t come fucking close to fixing it.” Rod turned and stumbled out the front door before breaking into a jog and disappearing into the night.
Wyl watched his husband’s retreating figure. His shoulders slumped as he heard Rod’s coughed-out sob and his boot steps fading into the distance. He swore he would never see Rod disappear again, but he was gone. He pounded his chest with his fist to quell the ache. He pushed Rod away at a time when they needed each other the most. A time when he needed Rod’s strength and courage to soothe his jangled nerves. The most important person in his life fled from his rage.
Before he went after Rod, he needed to calm down and get his thoughts back in order. More heated words would open the gaping wound further, and Rod needed time. Their adrenaline-fueled tempers had caused enough trouble. Working through their fight would be easier after a few minutes apart, when their heads were clearer. He prayed Rod would forgive him.
Chapter Seven
Wyl woke to the sun streaming through the broken window. He glanced around the room for Rod, but the space was empty. The front door stood wide open, a grim reminder of the unforgivable way he’d treated his husband the night before. He crept to the bedroom, hoping to find Rod in their bed. No Rod. He checked each room on the way back to the den, but Rod wasn’t there. His heart pounded, and his breath quickened as panic set in. His words hurt his husband. He had to fix this, and he had to fix it immediately. He flew down the hall to the garage. Rod’s truck occupied its usual spot, so he hadn’t left the ranch. Rod wouldn’t retreat to the burned-out barn and wasn’t in the house. The only other place Rod would go on foot was the office.
Trying to plan an apology, Wyl jogged to the office building. His hurtful, uncalled-for accusations echoed in his head. Tears blurred his vision. His jog became a run. He rounded the office building and leaped up the steps. He paused, hand on the doorknob. What if Rod wasn’t there? How would he survive if the love of his life were gone? He sighed heavily and opened the office door just enough to peek inside. What he saw broke his heart. His husband is asleep on the floor in one corner, using the chair cushion as a pillow. His boots stood nearby. The sight tugged at Wyl’s heartstrings. How could he forgive himself for making his husband so angry that he had to sleep on the floor? His sleeping face was so angelic.
He tugged off his boots, placing them quietly on the floor before soundlessly closing the door. Padding over to his sleeping husband, he sat cross-legged on the floor and pulled Rod into his arms.
