Read Online Cowboys 03 - My Cowboy Homecoming by Z.A. Maxfield - Free Book Online
Authors: Z.A. Maxfield
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forehead to thank her and then I headed for the bathroom to shower. I barely remember anything after that. Setting the clock for four a.m., making sure I had something to wear the next day, and then nothing, until I was dreaming of the J-Bar and the men I’d met there—of Lucho, who had me tangled up like the prize on the end of a string I couldn’t unknot, no matter how hard I tried.
When my alarm went off at 4:00 a.m., I was aroused and panting like I’d run for miles. Still exhausted, I let my head drop back on the damp pillow.
I hadn’t been with anyone in a long time. It’d been longer still since I’d spooned up beside a man or slept wrapped up in someone’s arms. Since I’d had the physical comfort of human touch.
When I woke that morning, I felt that lack of physical connection like a gaping hole in my belly. I ached for something. For the simple press of a man’s hand on mine—a man’s mouth on my lips, my cock.
I’d only been home for a day and it felt like that emptiness—that hole in my life—was going to keep on widening until it swallowed me up.
Gritting my teeth, I threw back the covers, pulled on some clothes, and headed for the kitchen, where I made coffee and toast and scrambled some eggs to go with them. By the time I got that done, Ma drifted in to give me a lecture about not waking her in time to make a “decent” breakfast.
Hastily, she tied an apron over her thin cotton robe. “At least let me get you something more than a couple scrambled eggs. That’s hardly enough for a man who’s going to do a full day’s work.”
“It’s fine, Ma.”
“You don’t even want me to fry up any sausages? It’s no trouble.”
“No, ma’am.” I patted my belly. “What I have here is fine. I’ve gotta get going anyway, or I’ll be late.”
She frowned at me. “All right. Careful how you go, now.”
I rinsed my plates in the sink and grabbed my denim jacket off the back of my chair. “’Bye, Ma. See you tonight.”
“’Bye, son.”
Outside, the air smelled of earth and sage and creosote bushes. The sun wasn’t up yet, but I could see well enough.
The truck started up rough, but eventually I got her going. While I wound down the country road, I wondered if the day would go in my favor. I hoped they’d see I was serious about working there, or that I was seriously in need, because it wasn’t lost on me that the men of the J-Bar all took in strays.
If being desperate was what it would take to get a job at the J-Bar, I’d be the most desperate son-of-a-bitch they’d ever seen, and pride be damned.
The lights were just coming on in the bunkhouse as I crept across the gravel drive to park. I had planned to start my barn chores right away when I arrived, but Jim came out onto the porch, a mug of coffee in his hand.
“You want something to eat before you get started?”
“I ate, thank you.” I closed the door to my truck and walked over, feeling like I was talking too loud for the quiet of the early morning.
He nodded. “Just don’t stand on ceremony. The hands around here come for coffee and eat when they need to.”
“I’m not exactly a hand yet.”
“Lucho ain’t going to be back in fighting shape anytime soon. My money’s on the boss recognizing he’s lucky to have you. You’re a hard worker.”
“Thank you.” I was surprised and pleased he was willing to give me his stamp of approval.
“Okay, go on now. Don’t shame me.”
I shot him a smile and headed for the warmth of the barn, which was also just coming to life. I’d learned the J-Bar horses’ names were Theodore, Sassafras, Horatio, and Wrangle, and the rescues were Pio and Kiki. Lucho called his mare Galleta. I was surprised he wasn’t in the barn to make sure I fed her the correct mixture of grains and hay. I was surprised and a little disappointed, if I was honest.
I went about my business, feeding, filling water buckets, and then turning the horses out to muck out stalls.
The absence
When my alarm went off at 4:00 a.m., I was aroused and panting like I’d run for miles. Still exhausted, I let my head drop back on the damp pillow.
I hadn’t been with anyone in a long time. It’d been longer still since I’d spooned up beside a man or slept wrapped up in someone’s arms. Since I’d had the physical comfort of human touch.
When I woke that morning, I felt that lack of physical connection like a gaping hole in my belly. I ached for something. For the simple press of a man’s hand on mine—a man’s mouth on my lips, my cock.
I’d only been home for a day and it felt like that emptiness—that hole in my life—was going to keep on widening until it swallowed me up.
Gritting my teeth, I threw back the covers, pulled on some clothes, and headed for the kitchen, where I made coffee and toast and scrambled some eggs to go with them. By the time I got that done, Ma drifted in to give me a lecture about not waking her in time to make a “decent” breakfast.
Hastily, she tied an apron over her thin cotton robe. “At least let me get you something more than a couple scrambled eggs. That’s hardly enough for a man who’s going to do a full day’s work.”
“It’s fine, Ma.”
“You don’t even want me to fry up any sausages? It’s no trouble.”
“No, ma’am.” I patted my belly. “What I have here is fine. I’ve gotta get going anyway, or I’ll be late.”
She frowned at me. “All right. Careful how you go, now.”
I rinsed my plates in the sink and grabbed my denim jacket off the back of my chair. “’Bye, Ma. See you tonight.”
“’Bye, son.”
Outside, the air smelled of earth and sage and creosote bushes. The sun wasn’t up yet, but I could see well enough.
The truck started up rough, but eventually I got her going. While I wound down the country road, I wondered if the day would go in my favor. I hoped they’d see I was serious about working there, or that I was seriously in need, because it wasn’t lost on me that the men of the J-Bar all took in strays.
If being desperate was what it would take to get a job at the J-Bar, I’d be the most desperate son-of-a-bitch they’d ever seen, and pride be damned.
The lights were just coming on in the bunkhouse as I crept across the gravel drive to park. I had planned to start my barn chores right away when I arrived, but Jim came out onto the porch, a mug of coffee in his hand.
“You want something to eat before you get started?”
“I ate, thank you.” I closed the door to my truck and walked over, feeling like I was talking too loud for the quiet of the early morning.
He nodded. “Just don’t stand on ceremony. The hands around here come for coffee and eat when they need to.”
“I’m not exactly a hand yet.”
“Lucho ain’t going to be back in fighting shape anytime soon. My money’s on the boss recognizing he’s lucky to have you. You’re a hard worker.”
“Thank you.” I was surprised and pleased he was willing to give me his stamp of approval.
“Okay, go on now. Don’t shame me.”
I shot him a smile and headed for the warmth of the barn, which was also just coming to life. I’d learned the J-Bar horses’ names were Theodore, Sassafras, Horatio, and Wrangle, and the rescues were Pio and Kiki. Lucho called his mare Galleta. I was surprised he wasn’t in the barn to make sure I fed her the correct mixture of grains and hay. I was surprised and a little disappointed, if I was honest.
I went about my business, feeding, filling water buckets, and then turning the horses out to muck out stalls.
The absence
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