Page 9 of Cowboy Dreams

“You could probably get by with twenty head of Angus, maybe thirty,” I said. “Beefs look big and intimidating to city folk, and a herd of thirty running or being split and penned would probably be thrill enough.”

“Why Angus?”

“Black and pretty? And they’re maybe the easiest beef breed to work with, if that’s your goal. If it’s just for show, you could buy some rejects pretty cheap. Old man Davidson runs Angus on his spread. He’d sell you some.”

“And the horses?”

“You’d need… three ranch hands, minimum. Maybe three and a foreman, to keep everything running smooth and give them days off. They’d maybe bring a horse of their own, but you’d want a couple spare cutting horses, because horses are damned fools. Turn around and they’ve got their foot in wire or they get in the feed room and try to colic. For the guests?” I gave it a bit of thought. “If your top end’s ten people, you might get by with twenty guest horses.”

“Why not just ten?”

“Did you hear me about horses and fools? And worse when they’re carrying a green rider. Besides, you’d need a variety. Some slow, gentle plugs for the folks who’ve never set a foot in a stirrup. But some better mounts too, for the ones who actually know something about what they’re doing. And then size. You can go toward the bigger end. They can carry a small person too. But some folks will feel uncomfortable, mounted way above their size.”

“Sure.”

“And if you’re going to allow kids, you’ll want some ponies too.”

He nodded. “Makes sense. It’s a lot to think about.”

“Yep. Livestock needs good management. A hotel won’t up and get sick or act ornery or suddenly go lame. Critters are different.”

“Not that different. A furnace can break, a roof leak, your chef can suddenly come down with the flu. Part of running a successful hospitality business is preparation, back-ups, and being able to improvise.” He sat up and mopped at his sticky chest with the top sheet.

Since he was willing to ruin his linens like that, I did the same, then, when he made no move to get up, I got comfy on the pillows and pulled the blanket around my shoulders.

“It’s an exciting idea,” he went on slowly. “What I’ve dreamed of, in a way, since those days of sweaty cowboys and grooming my pony and smelling the dirt of home. But there’s a lot to consider. Including one other aspect.” He met my eyes. “If I did this—if—” The emphasis seemed almost like a reminder to himself. “I’d want it to be gay-friendly. For a whole host of reasons, including the fact that I’m not going to live my life in the closet. How would that go over around here?”

I bit my lip. “Depends. If you’re going to make a big deal out of being the gay dude ranch, fly flags and slap rainbows on everything, you’ll have a problem.”

“I wasn’t going to be that in-your-face.”

“Times are changing. You might be fine. You’d need to be careful of your hires, though. Especially the hands. One bastard not fastening the girth tight enough for some flamboyant city queen and you could end in disaster.”

“Is that something you’d know? Who was gay-friendly and who wasn’t?”

“Some. Yeah. Been gay around here twenty years. I know whose lip curls, and who shows up at Max’s on a Saturday night.”

“You.” He reached a hand to cup my jaw and I couldn’t help leaning into the warm touch. “You’re like the last piece of the puzzle I’ve been wrestling with. You know, I spent a bunch of time picking out a consultant from Fort Collins. We did a two-hour Zoom call, trying to get his expert opinion on the idea while I showed him the place. I paid a bunch of money and in the end, he hemmed and hawed and said, ‘It might work, but you need to spend a bunch more for me to come down and do a full feasibility study.’ Which, fair enough, but he talked to me like I was a neophyte, not a man with decades of hospitality experience. I decided I wanted a local expert, and you’ve already given me better feedback than he did.”

“Wouldn’t call myself an expert.” Didn’t say I had no idea what a neo-fight was.

“You have ideas, though,” Sylvester insisted. “You know this county and the ranch business, the local resources. What if I hired you as a consultant? You even have the queer eye for the straight guy. I promise, I can pay what you’re worth and you can fit me in around your day job, at least for now.” He chuckled, warm and satisfied.

I pulled away, trying to figure out why that felt like icewater in my gut, instead of a great offer. “So I’d work for you? Planning the dude ranch? Ain’t something I’ve ever done.”

“I’m sure you’d figure it out.”

“Mm.”

His face fell, some of the light dimming in his eyes. “Of course, I didn’t ask. Maybe you don’t want to take time away from the job you have now. Maybe this dude ranch idea sounds risky or unappealing.”

I shook my head. “My job’s a job. I’d give it up for a better one, and I don’t mind cash on the side, though I don’t have a lot of spare time till winter. But…” I looked at him, at the shape of his mouth and the curve of his dick and the strength of his hands. Thought about how we’d just fit together exactly right. It was way too soon and too needy, but I had to say, “I was really hoping for more of this.” I waved between our naked bodies. “Don’t know if I can go down to just being your employee. Don’t know if I want to.” I’d take orders from him in bed, any day of the week and Sundays too, but if he was paying me money? That felt wrong.

His expression cleared. “That’s not what I’m asking. We wouldn’t have to stop this.”

“You’re okay with fucking your consultant?”Am I okay with being fucked by my boss?

“Mama Cassie’s whole family worked in the hotel, off and on— my mom, before and after she and Cassie were married, me, her cousin, her cousin’s boyfriend. We didn’t have strict boss-employee relationships but we all made it work.”

---