Date: Sun, 12 Jan 2003 05:57:55 -0800 (PST)
From: Waddie Greywolf <waddiebear@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Booger Red & Cowboy Chapter 4"

DISCLAIMER: WARNING!!  This is a work of homoerotic fictions written by an
adult for the purpose of entertainment for other adults.  If you are not
eighteen year of age or you have any problem with this type of literature
then this is a warning to read no further.  The author will not be held
responsible for any reason if you do.  (Codes: M/M BD/SM Gay Incest Anal
Oral)

Mail to:  waddiebear@yahoo.com
Copyright 2003 Waddie Greywolf

===============================================================================
BOOGER RED & COWBOY
By Waddie Greywolf


CHAPTER 4


They gave me two purple hearts before I left the service. I sent them home
to my dad, one for him and one for Uncle Joe. I knew they'd mean a lot to
them.  I was officially discharged to reserve status two days before I left
Hawaii. I flew into LAX and on to San Antonio. Dad and Uncle Joe met me at
the airport. I was still in a wheel chair.  I was getting stronger and able
to get up and around, but I would lose strength quickly and have to get
back in the wheel chair for a while.  I cried in my dad's arms and Uncle
Joe broke down when he saw me in the wheel chair.

"Billy, Oh God, Billy, you're home. Thank God, my boy's home. Your safe
now, Son.  I love you so Goddamn much, Billy.  I should've never let you
go."

"Dad,---" I couldn't get anymore out. I couldn't talk for crying. I
couldn't stop. They wheeled me back to the car and helped me in. I was so
glad to see my old man but I hurt so bad inside I couldn't even tell him I
loved him.  I had forgotten how much he meant to me until that moment. He
had become my everything.  My center of the universe. I felt safe in his
big cowboy arms.  It was the first time I'd felt safe since I left for Nam
almost two years ago.

Aunt Ethel passed away my first year in Nam and my Uncle Bud died the night
before I was shot. I didn't know what to think or do.  I didn't want to go
anywhere nor see anyone.  I slept most of the way back to Mason. I was
coming home to a town I no longer knew. We passed through town and there
was a huge banner across Main Street,

"Welcome Home Cowboy"

I broke down and cried again.  I didn't want any fan fare. Uncle Joe helped
me into the wheel chair and they helped me to the stairs to the front
porch.  I tried to manage the stairs with their help but almost passed
out. Dad swept me up in his big arms and carried me the rest of the way as
Uncle Joe brought the wheel chair.

Lester, my sweet Lester was there, with a sad, worried face. He hugged and
kissed me, welcoming me home. It was so good to see his old, black,
leathered face.  I broke down as he held me and sobbed with me like his old
heart was broken.  I did my best to comfort the poor old dear.  God I loved
that man with all my heart and soul.  He always was my greatest champion,
my greatest fan.  In his eyes, B.G. three, could do no wrong.

"Oh Billy! Oh Billy! I's so glad you's home.  God done answered my prayers,
Child." The old man couldn't speak anymore and again broke down in my arms.
I kissed him on the cheek and thanked him. Dad wheeled me into the house
and headed for the living room.

"Son, we have a house guest for several days who wanted to be here when you
came home.  He's waiting for you in the living room." We turned into the
living room and a big cowboy stood up with his hat in his hand with tears
in his eyes.  It was Buck's dad, Dan Yates.  He had driven all the way from
Tucson to be there when I got home.  I lifted myself up out of the chair,
threw my arms around him and he held me as I once more cried my heart out.
He cried with me, held me close and wouldn't let me go until I got it out.

"Oh God, Mr. Yates!  I failed you, I'm so sorry.  Buck was a hero,
Mr. Yates.  He saved my life.  I loved him so much, Sir.  His last words to
me were to tell you he loved you.  He and our other two brothers fell on
top of me to protect me.  I couldn't move.  Oh God, I'm sorry, Mr. Yates."

"There, there, Son, you did what you could, I know you. I wanted to be here
so you wouldn't have to come to me.  I wanted you to know I love you for
being Buck's friend and brought you copies of his letters telling me what a
great man he thought you were.  He also loved your other two buddies, Ken
and Rowley.  He spoke of them often with the greatest love."

"I'm so glad you're here, Mr. Yates. You don't know how much it means to
me.  He didn't suffer, Mr. Yates.  I was looking into his eyes when he took
it directly through his big heart.  He fell on top of me and kissed me
goodbye. He knew he wasn't gonna' make it but he threw himself on top of me
to protect me.  He was a hero, Mr. Yates.  He was my hero."

"They sent him home and we buried him in our family plot, Son.  I'm doing
better.  Seeing you helps a lot.  I love you, Son, and I'm so glad you made
it back.  I just wanted you to know."

"When I get better, I'd like to come to Tucson.  Would you take me to see
him?"

"You know it, Son, you're welcome any time." Dan Yates stayed the rest of
the week with us. I slipped a couple of times and called him Dad Yates. He
would smile and get a tear in his eye.

"May I call you that, Mr. Yates?"

"Be proud for you to, Son."  he replied.  I began to introduce him as one
of my dads, Dan Yates; my brother Buck's dad. In a small town everyone
knows immediately what you're talking about.  They never questioned.  It
was healing for Dan to hear me call him `dad.'  I came to love and admire
him that week. As I spent time with him I saw the better parts of my
beloved brother in him and wept at night by myself.

It was little mannerisms his son had copied that became a part of his
personality as well as his dad's. The way he put his hat on and squared it
away.  The way he looked into my eyes, I would see Buck looking back at me
and break into tears.  The way he swaggered when he walked in his cowboy
boots.  Buck walked that way and to see his dad walk exactly the same way
kept a lump in my throat. Yet, somehow, he was comforting.  It was like I
had a little of Buck with me for a while to ease me over the pain.

The town threw a big welcome home party for me in the park across from the
rodeo grounds the weekend I got home.  I tried to be up for everyone but my
heart wasn't in it.  Dan watched over me and stayed close; I thanked him
many times for being there and told him how much his presence meant to me.
At times I felt that Buck was sitting next to me. I wouldn't turn my head
to see because I wanted to have the continued feeling that my love was
sitting there.  I know Dan understood when he'd see a tear run down my
cheek and I couldn't look at him.  He'd gently put his big arm around me
and pull me closer to him.

Aunt Laura talked to me at the picnic.  She had some of Uncle Bud's things
she wanted to give me. Aunt Laura hadn't had the heart to pack his things
and dispose of them.  That's hard for anyone left behind.  She ask when I
felt better would I help her.  I said I would.  I didn't know if I was
going to be able but I'd make an effort.  She had a bank pass book for
money that she and Uncle Bud wanted me to have.

"You also have a letter from Uncle Bud for me, right?"

"Yes, Billy.  I was going to tell you that next.  How did you know?  I
never told a soul.  I wanted it to be a surprise.  I was going to have you
for dinner as soon as you feel up to it and give it to you then."

"That'll be fine Aunt Laura, I'd love to come for dinner.  How did I know?
Uncle Bud told me when he came to take my buddies, the cowboys, away.  He
had come to show them the way and told me I wasn't dead and had to go back
and live. God still had things for me to do.  There were several people
that would need me. He died the night before.  I knew before you wrote me.
He told the corpsman that found me and saved my life.  He told me to be
sure and ask you for a letter he wrote to me and left with you."

"I believe you, Billy.  If he could've saved you he would.  He loved you so
much and so do I.  When your dad told him he was your biological father he
was thrilled.  However, he never wanted to replace your Dad, he only wanted
to be your Uncle Bud. I was thrilled too, for all of us. I knew how close
the two of you became over the years.  He thought of you as his son before
he ever knew.  So did I, Billy.  You were always so good to me and I love
you like you were my own son.  Of course I shared that feeling with Ethel.
You were the most important thing to her.  She loved you so much.

I loved your Uncle Bud with a passion few women experience.  He loved me
too and proved his love to me over and over.  He didn't leave me when we
found out I was barren.  Some men would have.  He wanted a son so badly.  I
wanted desperately to have his child but I couldn't.  Bud never made me
feel guilty.  His love sustained me through all these years.  He was a good
man and I miss him terribly." Aunt Laura had tears in her eyes and I took
her in my arms. I held her until she recovered.  Then I told her the story
of Jim Redfeather and how he saved me. She thought it was miraculous.

The afternoon before he left to return for Tucson, Dan and I got a couple
of shakes from the Dairy Queen and drove to the park to sit and talk.  It
was a beautiful, warm day in early January.  It was like a day we would
call an Indian Summer.  It would be an exceptionally warm day in the middle
of winter.  Dan and I had become comfortable with each other.

"Billy?  Would you answer a question for me?"

"Sure, Dad, anything."

"Well, it's kind a' hard for me to ask because it involves a part of Buck I
don't think he wanted me to know about.  He could have told me anything and
I would've still loved him.  He was my life. He's all I lived for."

"Then, do you really want to know, Dad?" I knew what he was getting at and
I tried to think what Buck would've wanted me to tell him.  Buck told me if
he and I went on the circuit he was going to tell his dad about us.  He
wanted his dad to know how happy he was and in turn, how happy we were. He
wanted his dad to be happy for us.

"Yes, Son, I want to know. That's why I copied his letters and brought them
for you to read.  I know you haven't read any of them yet but someday you
will. It's good that you wait for a while.  They'll rip your heart out.
You have no idea how much Buck thought of you. He was trying to tell me
something but couldn't come to the point. I'm not that naive that I
couldn't read between the lines, Son.

Buck wrote how much he loved you and how happy the two of you were with
each other.  He admired you,---no, Son,--- he worshiped you. I'm not at all
surprised that Buck saved your life. You meant more to him than his own
life, and Son,---I'm not sorry he saved you either.  I've grown to love you
through Buck, being around you the year we were rodeoing, and visiting with
you this week.  I'm proud my boy saved your life.  He did the right thing.
I just thank God you made it back and Buck had you for a mate. He couldn't
have chosen better, Son."

I was still vulnerable and broke into tears. He had chosen his words well
to see if he could get confirmation of his suspicions without embarrassing
me. I thought if Buck was going to tell him maybe I should follow my heart
and share with him the love that Buck and I felt for each other.  I wanted
to. From what Dan told me he wasn't going to run screaming from the
park. He reached across the table and gently laid his hand on my arm. I put
my hand on his.  There was a voice that whispered in my ear,

"It's all right, Cowboy, tell him. Let him know how much we loved each
other. I couldn't but you can." that's all I needed to open the flood
gates.

"I loved him so Goddamn much, Dad, it aches in my gut to think about him
being gone; to never feel him close to me again; to never again sleep with
his arms around me all night; to never take him in my arms again; to never
share love with him again; to never just lie close to him and inhale the
beauty of his body; to never hear his comforting voice again telling me,
"You can do it, Cowboy!"  In this life I'll never again hear his wonderful
laugh that lit up my heart; never hear him read his bible to me anymore;
never feel his touch,---his understanding.

I never thought I could love anyone more than my Uncle Bud, but I did.  I
loved Buck that much and more. We were going to share our lives together.
He was going to tell you before we went on the circuit.  He wanted you to
know how happy he was;---how happy we were.  He wanted you to be happy for
us. We wanted to rodeo until we got older, buy a big ranch and teach young
kids rodeoing. We only had three months left to have our dream. Three
Goddamned, lousy months.

Rowley and Ken were going with us.  We loved them and they loved us.  The
four of us were inseparable.  They all three jumped on top of me to protect
me. I rose up out of my body with Buck, Rowley and Ken.  My Uncle Bud was
there, too, and they told me I had to go back, I had things to do yet. I
had people to live for that needed me or would need me. It wasn't my time.

I kept begging and pleading with Buck and my Uncle Bud to take me with them
but they told me I had to go back;---four people would need me.  My dad,
Booger Red, you and some giant, hairy, bear-like man that's a personal
friend of God's I haven't met yet."  Dan looked at me stunned and tears
began to form in his eyes.

"I begged them to take me with them, Dad.  I didn't want to come back
without Buck.  My Uncle Bud was dead from a heart attack the night
before. He came for them and took them away. Buck's last words to me before
he left were, "Billy, tell my dad I love him." Dan Yates bit his lower lip
and drew blood to keep from breaking down but he knew I was telling him the
truth. He needed to hear it.

I went on to tell him about my Uncle Bud going to a corpsman, Jim
Readfeather, in his sleep. How we knew Jim, and Jim calling out my name
across the battlefield.  My uncle's spirit told Jim he was my real father
and he and I didn't know until just before I left for Nam. I ask Dan, how
Jim could have known unless it was true; unless my uncle had indeed come to
him in a dream?  How would he know to call out my name over and over until
he found me? Uncle Bud saved my life. I laid my head on his arm and sat
there weeping uncontrollably. He said nothing for a long while, gently
placed his big hand on the back of my head and let me get it out.

"Thanks for telling me that, Son."  Dan responded in a choked whisper, "I
only wanted to know Buck loved someone and was happy when he died.  I don't
gave a tinker's dam whether it was a man or a woman.  Love's love! As long
as my boy was happy and knew love before he died, that's all I care about.
I don't know why it's important to me to find this out about Buck, but it
is;---it's important.  Maybe it's `cause I sensed in Buck a deep need to
find a great love in his life.  I know he loved me and maybe more than I'm
aware of;--- a dad can tell about his kid.  I knew Buck had a passion to
love someone with all his heart.  I'm so grateful to you for sharing that
with my boy, Billy.  It's important to me,---you have to know that.

I knew from his letters, the way he wrote about his love for you, he felt
more for you than a buddy.  I knew before I came here about you and Buck's
relationship.  I'd always suspected since he was a kid.  He use to come
back to the motor coach when we were on the circuit with a wet spot at his
crotch and I knew he'd been watching you and your uncle practice in the
arena. He never came right out and said it but I could tell he admired you
both.  He commented once that you guys were what rodeo is all about.  Your
pictures should be in the dictionary under rodeo cowboys."  I broke down
again and told Dan I thought the exact same thing about them;---even used
the term.

"Buck asked me if I thought there was a chance you and your dad were
lovers. At that time, we thought you were father and son.  We never knew
different. As it turns out you were his son.  Hell, you looked enough alike
to be twins. I told Buck I didn't know, but if you were there was nothing
wrong with it. I told him, `Love is love, Buck, no matter what form it
takes.  As long as two people share love that's beneficial to both, God's
happy.'

I knew we weren't gonna' beat you in Ft. Worth because the bond between you
and your uncle was to powerful.  You didn't function as a team.  Hell, you
were one!  Everyone remarked that the two of you must read each other's
minds.  I'd never seen anything like it. You were like a well oiled,
precision machine.  By the time we went up against you in Denver, I knew
you and your uncle would be our toughest competition.

Buck was as happy for the two of you as he would've been if we'd a'
won. When you caught the hinders of your steer we knew, without a doubt,
you'd won.  Buck yelled at the top of his voice, `YES!' almost like he was
saying-`and by God you did it, Cowboy!' rooting for you and your uncle.  He
jumped up and down and hugged me and said, `Number two ain't bad, Dad.  It
ain't bad at all.'  I think I was more disappointed than him but then I had
to agree with him, number two wasn't bad `cause we went up against the
best.

When I let my housekeeper, Mrs. Russell, read several of the letters
telling me how much he cared for you. She broke down same's I did while
reading them, then shared with me Buck had come out to her when he was in
high school. She confirmed for me what he was trying to tell me; the two of
you had bonded and were very much in love.  He was afraid to tell me and in
a way it breaks my heart he didn't trust me enough.  I wouldn't have cared.
I don't care.  It's not going to stop me from loving my boy nor you Billy.
I didn't tell you I knew because I didn't know how you'd take it being so
filled with pain right now.  I thought if I hinted around you'd tell me if
you wanted me to know and then I'd share these things with you.  If not
then I was sure after reading his letters, you'd reconsider.

They're the greatest love letters I've ever read. I sat and cried like a
baby through each one I was so happy for him.  I could feel his love for
you coming through the words and, Son, it too, was an incredibly powerful
feeling.  In a way, I felt like he wanted me to know and appreciate the
depth and completeness of your love.  I was happy for both of you. I
thought about pouring my heart out to him in a letter and telling him if
you had more than a strong bonding, brotherly friendship, I would
understand and be happy for you.  I never wrote that letter.  I didn't want
to embarrass him.  I'm sorry I didn't.  All those years I suspected I
should have taken him aside and told him if he turned out gay it would
never change my love for him. He was my life. I raised him by myself with
Mrs. Russell's help since he was three years old.

"He didn't tell you, Dad, not because he didn't trust you but because he
loved you so much he wouldn't risk the gamble.  If there was the slightest
chance you might have turned away from him it would have killed him.  He
told me he would of taken a gun and blown his head off.  The way he told
me, Dad, I believed him! You were his world, Dad.  He worshiped you.

Our relationship gave him strength to want to tell you.  He was going to
but he wanted my support; to be there, to hold my hand when he told you.
He was afraid of hurting you;---of disappointing you by not turning out the
way you might have wanted him to.

He couldn't have lived with that unless I was there for him;---he wasn't
kidding, Dad, Buck would've taken his own life.  Don't feel bad, Dad, it
hasn't been a picnic for me to pour my heart out about all of this but a
minute ago I heard Buck's voice clear as day tell me it was all right and
for me to tell you what he couldn't."

"Son, you don't invest your life in raising a child then turn away from
them, for any reason, simply because they didn't turn out the way you
thought they should.  The two of you shared a great love and because he
chose to share it with you, makes it all the more personal and wonderful
for me.  Your Uncle Bud and Buck were right, Billy.  I do need you.  I need
to know you're alive, still in the world, I need to know you'll be all
right and you're recovering from this pain.

I need you to know how much I love you for loving Buck and how damn happy I
am you made it home, Son." I'll be honest with you,---I hope you'll come
visit and spend some time with me. I'd appreciate it if you would, Billy,
`cause I think I need that.  I think you need it, too.

I'd like to get to know the man my son loved so deeply.  Maybe we could
even try our hand at roping together if you like.  We held each other and
cried together.  We held each other for a long while, until the sun went
down and it started getting cool then we drove home together, father and
son.

Three weeks later I went to Aunt Laura's for dinner one night.  Aunt Laura
gave me the letter from Uncle Bud.  She told me everyone in town was happy
for me and Uncle Bud.  Hell, the whole town knew.  You can't keep secrets
in a small town.  Later, several of the town folks told me they guessed for
years that Uncle Bud was my real father.

When she handed me the letter she told me Uncle Bud's instructions were to
read it in private.  I put it in my pocket `til I got home. I left soon
after dessert and coffee.  I hugged and kissed Aunt Laura goodbye, thanked
her for dinner and the letter. I drove home as fast as I could and ran to
my bedroom, lay across my bed and opened the letter.

Dearest Son,

I'm writing this in my office. It's a cold, bleak, wintery day but it's
warm here in my office.  You've been in Nam now a little over eighteen
months and I miss you terribly.  The day that you, Buck, Rowley and Ken
took off on that bus, I watched a major part of my heart go down the road
with it. That empty portion of my heart hasn't been filled since you left
and won't be until you return.

I've been having some minor health problems and haven't been feeling too
well for the past several weeks. I manage to get to work everyday, but I've
cut out a lot of the rough stuff I use to do around here.  It's probably
better for me and the people we run through here anyway. I wanted to write
this in case anything happened to me before you got back.  I know you'll
come back.  I was so afraid and prayed every night for God and his angels
to watch over you; to let you come home to me and the folks that love you
so dearly.

One night an angel came to me in a dream to ease my heart and told me you
would be hurt but you would come home safely.  I trust him. He also told me
to write this letter.  So, maybe I won't be here when you get home to
welcome you. To hug you, kiss you and tell you how proud I am of you and
how much I love you. If that's the case read the last line again and know
how much I wanted to be there to do those things.

You have great talents, Billy.  I've watched you grow and develop into a
fine young man.  I've loved you every step of the way. That year we spent
together on the circuit was the greatest year of my life. I haven't been
able to stop thanking God and your dad for allowing me to love you.  Your
Aunt Laura is thrilled for the both of us.  She loves you as much as I do.

The love that passed between us was the most wonderful thing I've ever
experienced.  I love your Aunt Laura as much as you but in a different way.
You will understand as you grow older that you don't replace one love with
another, you only add to love. A new, unexpected love becomes growth and a
beautiful thing but you don't abandon nor stop loving the older loves that
have sustained you through the years; neither, should you love someone at
the expense of another.

That's what life's all about, Son. It's not just getting through it.  It's
loving, sharing, caring, and gathering as much love as we can to take back
to God when we die. If God is love, as we've been told, then that's all he
cares about, that we learn to love and share love while we're here. Doesn't
matter what form it takes as long as it benefits the people involved,
doesn't hurt anyone else and is done with the consent of both.

Some misguided, religious fanatics might thump their bibles and yell that
certain forms of love they don't approve of, is against God and their
religious beliefs.  Ignore them. God does! They don't know how to share
love beyond their own petty needs of selfish aggrandizement. God will deal
with them in his own way and it won't be pretty.

Remember the old saying: `The devil can turn a verse in the bible for his
own use.' Was our love a bad love?  What do you think?  It was bad only if
we think so or allow anyone else to suggest it was.  Of course it wasn't
bad and I'd do it again in a minute knowing what we know.

I still dream of sharing love with you but I'm not beyond wishing you all
the happiness in the world with Buck.  I saw what was going on between you
that last week and it felt good to my heart.  I was so pleased that you
were going over there with someone you'd fallen in love with.  It would
make it so much easier for you, and what better man for you to fall in love
with than Buck Yates. You couldn't have chosen better.  His dad and he are
both fine men, Son.

Rowley and Ken were pretty transparent, too. Your Dad, Joe, Lester and I
have laughed our ass's off at some of the shit that came out of Ken White's
mouth. Funny, funny man but lovable to a fault.

That last week we spent together at the lake you were so concerned for
Booger and felt you might be betraying his love.  You asked me to explain
to Booger and I'll try; however, I've know him for years and know when he
falls in love it's for keeps.  Beneath the gruff, randy, ugly facade beats
the heart of a good man with strong convictions about right and wrong.  I
don't know how successful I'll be because once upon a time I broke his
heart. I made the mistake of loving someone else at his expense---he's
never spoken a word to me in anger all these years; however, I'm ashamed
and sorry for what I did to him.  I have lived to regret it, even today.

Take the talent you have for loving, Billy, and build it to become the
greatest gift you can take back to God and lay at his feet.

"Here Master, here is the love I have sown, shared or freely given to
others. Here is the harvest of my life I bring before you.  Now, I make a
gift of it to you."  What father wouldn't be proud of a son that brought
him such a gift?

Never make the mistake of thinking that material possessions will bring you
happiness or make you more attractive to anyone, including God. When you
leave this life, you can only take the soul that God has allowed your body,
as a vessel, to hold for a while, and it's the quality of that soul that
God is most interested in.

You have to give it back to him, but in what condition will you give it
back? How much better to hand him the gift of your soul with it overflowing
with the light and joy of love.

It's that simple, Cowboy. I'm not worried.  We both have a leg up on that
from the love we shared.  You must go on to build on that love so your soul
will become one of the greatest gifts a simple man can give back to his
Creator. A soul filled with the light and goodness of love.

If I'm not here when you return I'll probably have moved on. Don't grieve
for me too long, Son.  Start as soon as you can to remember and build on
our love.  Don't hide your light under a bushel. You all ready know what
I'm talking about in the way that you've learned to love and appreciate
your dad.

He's a wonderful man, Billy, full of mysteries I never thought him capable
of.  Of all the things your dad did in his life the greatest, most noble,
right, and wonderful thing he did was to have you.  Even the way he did it
was truly remarkable. I couldn't approve more, and I commend him daily for
doing it.

To open his heart and share you with me was an example of his greater,
unselfish love.  I support Gunn in being your dad. I'm even glad you carry
his name!  I couldn't be prouder. I don't mean any disrespect to my
dad,---but I've always considered myself a `Gunn.'

Big Gunn is your only dad, Billy.  Don't forget that.  That man earned that
title and your respect as his son;---besides, he needs to be your dad and
you'll understand this later;-you need to be his son.  No one, not even me,
could love you more than that big, kick-ass cowboy that raised you.  You're
more than the apple of his eye,---you're his heart and soul.  You became
his reason for living.  I'm your uncle and your cousin.  I never intend to
try to replace your dad in your mind.

It's sometimes funny how life works out.  I prayed to God for years
complaining to him that I didn't have a closer relationship with you than
being your second cousin and uncle by marriage.  I bellyached to him about
why you couldn't have been my son?  I had this crazy feeling in my gut, I
never shared with anybody, that you were the son I was meant to have.
Something went wrong and you were born to Gunn instead.

God heard my prayer and between him and his saint on earth, your dad, my
prayer was answered.  I will forever be grateful to both and I'll die a
content and happy man.  The beautiful boy child I loved and watched grow
into one of the finest men I've ever known was unwittingly my greatest
achievement in life.

I'll admit, at first I was a little jealous of Gunn but I tried hard not to
be.  He was so damn generous with you and good to me for letting me love
you,---he made it impossible for me to be jealous.  Besides, your Dad and I
fell in love with each other years ago, and each knows, we still have that
love within our hearts; however, because of you, your dad and I have fallen
back in love after all these years.

I see a lot more of Gunn and Joe than I use to.  They've built a strong
love for each other over the years. I just thank God they've stopped the
drinking and fighting.  It makes their love all the better for them.

I'm leaving you our winnings from the rodeo prize money, Cowboy. It's
yours, you earned it.  (Your Aunt Laura even suggested it.)  Combined with
the monies from your Aunt Ethel's estate should give you a good start in
life. I checked with your dad for his blessing and suggestions.  He assured
me it was all right with him.

Remember, Son, above all else, I love you.  I cherish the days on this
Earth that you walked by my side and loved me in return.  I've never known
a greater love with anyone. You will always be my cowboy and I will always
be your Master. I can't end this letter by saying goodbye.  It doesn't end
here anyway, Son.  So, I'll see you on down the road, Cowboy, we'll love
again, I promise.

All my love, Son,

Uncle Bud

"On down the road, Master.  Oh, God, Uncle Bud, I loved you so."  I
whispered. I held his letter to my heart and cried myself to sleep.  As I
drifted off to sleep I had a lucid dream of sitting in a huge pasture with
Ben Stafford reading him Uncle Bud's letter.  He has tears running down his
handsome face.  When I finish he breathes deeply and says,

"What better words for a father to leave his son?  Those words were not
thought out nor labored over, Billy.  They came directly from Bud's heart."

Uncle Bud liquidated Aunt Ethel's property and the money she left me was in
an account in my name in the bank.  Aunt Laura gave me the pass book when I
went for dinner.  Uncle Bud left me all the winnings from our year
rodeoing. He and Aunt Laura wanted me to have that. There was over a
quarter of a million in the account. While I wasn't ungrateful, I could
have cared less. I didn't care about anything. I had no interest in life.
I didn't give a damn about living.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After Dan left and went back to Tucson, Dad moved into my bedroom and begin
to sleep with me. He got tired of running from his room to mine to wake me
up or comfort me. I would wake in the night screaming and couldn't stop.
He would hold me and gently speak my name.  He would comfort me until I
calmed down.  Then I would cry myself to sleep in his arms.

It was beginning to tell on his and Uncle Joe's relationship.  I knew I had
to get away for their sake. I had to heal on my own and wouldn't take my
old man down with me.  I had come to love him too much for that. I watched
him go from a fine looking, middle aged man to a white haired older man
right before my eyes. I was killing him.  His heart was breaking.  His son,
his child that he raised and loved was hurting so deeply but he couldn't do
anything about it.

He wasn't the only one suffering for me.  Lester had turned white haired
within weeks after I came home.  He didn't want to intrude but the boy he
loved and help raise all those years was in pain but he was powerless to
help.  He even ask if I wanted him to go fishing with me one afternoon.  I
cried in the old man's arms that he loved me enough to once again offer to
take his little buddy fishing. Greater love hath no man.

I came to see how much my dad loved me. He may not have been my biological
father but no man could have loved me more.  I had grown to love him as
much as Uncle Bud.  I didn't give a fuck about biology, or who filled out
my genes, the old man grieving his heart out for me was my dad.

My subconscious pain knew no bounds and it was going to come out no matter
what I did. I wasn't going to let it destroy my family, the people that I
loved most in the world.  I called Walker Johnson and asked if I could come
stay with him and Xander for a while.

"Of course you can, Son.  Booger keeps calling.  Asking if we've heard
anything from you; say's you didn't answer his letters.  He's disappointed,
Son."

"I can't see him right now, Master Walker.  I can't tell you why right now.
I can't talk about it yet.  I hope you understand, Sir?"

"I do, Son. It doesn't matter anyway,---you getting better is what matters
to us. Come on up, we'll be happy to have you."

"I'm a mess, Master Walker.  I'm not the boy you once knew. I'm really
fucked up, Master Walker." I started crying on the phone.

"Hell Son, you wait there!  Xander and I will be down to get you day after
tomorrow.  Have your stuff ready."

"I'll be ready, Master Johnson." I weakly replied as I hug up the phone.

Master Walker Johnson and his slave Xander drove all the way to Mason to
pick me up. I introduced Master Walker and Xander to my family and I could
feel that Master Walker and my dad bonded almost immediately.  They would
become good friends.

I said my goodbyes to everyone and told them I'd be back when I got better.
I had some things to work out.  Dad cried; he didn't want me to go, but he
knew it was probably for the best.  He was exhausted and didn't know what
to do for me.  I was withdrawing more and more into myself. I would spend
days in my room just laying across the bed staring at the ceiling. I
wouldn't go out or see anyone.

I had no sense of center, no balance nor purpose to my life. There was
nothing I wanted to do.  No one I wanted to see.  No where I wanted to
go. Nothing mattered.  There was no `here' in life, there was no `there.'
Everything just was.  There was no movement up, down, back or worst of all,
forward. A stagnation of the soul.  A loss of the spirit of the soul into a
limpid, silent, bottomless, dark pool of `was.'

Master Walker and Xander were very protective and wouldn't let anybody know
I was staying with them.  They didn't lie to Booger.  They just didn't say
anything. I couldn't be around anybody I cared about because I was afraid I
was going to bring them down like my dad or lose them like my Uncle Bud and
my brothers. I was on the edge of sanity. I could have gone either way.

Uncle Bud's letter helped.  It was the only shred of reality I could hold
on to.  I kept going over his words in my head. Over and over, almost to
the point of obsession.  They were wonderful, comforting words and they
made a lot of sense but they weren't a road map to healing.  They didn't
tell me how to grieve properly nor did they tell me how to let go. (Years
later I was alone in my room and heard a country and western song that
doubled me over in recalled grief and pain. A young girl was crying beside
the bed of her dying mother.  He mother asks her, "How can I help you say,
`goodbye'?")

Master Walker put me up in a small one bedroom apartment over their huge
garage.  The garage was so large it had four one bedroom apartments and
four single, bachelor apartments on top.  Mine was facing away from the big
front house looking out on the stables and pasture land.  I didn't know if
I was going to be able to stay by myself but I tried.

I woke up several times screaming.  Walker and Xander were concerned.  They
could hear me in their bedroom on the front of their house.  They were
about to come to me when I suddenly stopped.  I apologized and ask them not
to come to me.  I had to learn to face this by myself.  I didn't want to
destroy anyone with my pain.

Sometimes, it would take me five to ten minutes to figure out where I was.
I started experimenting. I made a huge sign and nailed it to the wall
across from my bed that read in five inch letters: Glen Rose, Texas and
under that: Walker Johnson & Xander.

I left night lights on in all rooms.  I got a small clock radio and kept
the radio on all night. It helped.  It was like `white' noise; something
that was there; my brain asleep wasn't hearing nor listening; however, it
was reality on tap, it was there.  I may have been `here' but it was
`there.'

It was reality.  A reality I could relate to.  Music or the endless voice
of blather made me feel not quite so isolated.  Slowly, these things began
to work.  I was only having flashbacks five nights out of seven.  That
doesn't sound like much but to me it was a major victory.  Do you know what
two solid nights of rest can mean to a soul lost in a sea of obsessive
thoughts?  Forget your gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  Nothing is more
valuable to the human psyche than a night of dreamless sleep.

I stayed with Master Walker and Xander for about a month, went back home
for a visit and brought Dolly and Madison back to the Johnson Ranch.
Master Walker suggested I bring them to his ranch because no one back home
was interested in taking care of them.  Aunt Laura ask me about selling
them.  I couldn't let her do that.  Aunt Laura gave me Uncle Bud's old
pickemup truck, with camper and horse trailer to transport Dolly and
Madison. They were happy at the Johnson ranch.

It was great to have the memories of that old camper and truck with me.  I
could sometimes imagine Uncle Bud riding next to me.  It was so real I
didn't want to turn my head to see that he wasn't.  I would ride for miles
feeling his warmth, his compassion, just thinking he might be sitting next
to me. It sounds strange but I began to feel a great comfort and for a
while my heart was at peace. I swear today, as I write this, that he very
probably was sitting there, helping me,---on down that road.

I started roping again and the big, tall, mean looking cowboy was a good
amateur roper.  He started roping with me.  Leon was quiet but I liked him.
He left me alone.  I could be around him and he didn't demand I entertain
him or even speak.  I spent hours helping him with the livestock and if we
said two complete sentences to each other in a day it was a lot.  I got to
know his ways and learned how he wanted things done.

He never pushed; however, in and of itself, I found strength in his
silence. My need to be with Leon was not necessarily sexual.  I needed
someone, anyone, for companionship who demanded nothing from me
emotionally. Leon never did nor did he make any overtures for sex.  He let
me be. Sometimes we would rope together by the hour and never say a word to
each other.  I got the idea he didn't want to be intruded on either;
although, I did get the feeling I could have invited myself to his bed
anytime I wanted.  I didn't. I couldn't.

It was going on six months and I hadn't been with a soul since I got
back. I was too psyched out to let anyone that close to me.  I wanted to;
God knows I wanted to but I was too afraid. I re-read Uncle Bud's letter
every night and cried.  I was reading my loss into his letter, not hearing
the message in the words but they were getting through to my subconscious.

I was trying to pay my way at the Johnson Ranch by helping Leon with the
livestock and doing handyman work around the ranch.  Hell, there was always
something to do and the work kept me up and out. It kept me from feeling
sorry for myself.  At least when my body was busy doing something, there
were moments I didn't dwell on my grief, my loss, my sorrow.  Three `my's'
in the same sentence.  Yeah, I guess I was so within myself I was pretty
selfish.

That happens, though, when you have loss and don't know how to grieve
properly nor how to let go.  Rather than do anything to work actively at
grieving, I was keeping it bottled up inside me with the lid screwed on
tight.  No one understood my pain, so I had to feel sorry for myself; in
some ways, perhaps, the greatest selfishness there is.

Leon and I spent several days mending fences and painting the huge long
running white wooden fence around the property.  We were hot and dirty and
decided to cool off in the river. We threw our clothes off and jumped
in. Holy shit, Leon had a bigger dick than Madison's.  I heard tell of his
legendary cock but I'd never seen it. I was kinda glad I hadn't invited
myself to his bed, he would have killed me.

We began to horseplay a little; he grabbed me and held me. I struggled to
get away.  I didn't want to be held.  Leon was determined, locked his arms
around me forcefully but with no malice, held me until I calmed down and
gave in.  I threw my arms around him and pressed my head to his chest as he
held me tightly.  He didn't try to make any advances toward sex; he just
held me for the longest time.  To feel another persons body pressed close
to mine without seeming to expect anything had a great calming and healing
effect.

Leon looked deep into my eyes and saw the hunger in my soul. He didn't say
a word as he moved his mouth slowly toward mine and gently brushed his lips
across mine. He wasn't making a pass at me, he was gently letting me know
it was there if I needed it but he wasn't going to push. The decision had
to be mine.

"Fuck it, Leon!  Please, Cowboy.  Kiss me."  We were standing chest deep in
the cool, swift, running water. He began to kiss me gently and then more
forcefully as if he were inviting my wounded soul into his heart for
repairs.  He didn't rush, finished and then held me again without a word.
He pulled my head close to his big chest and wouldn't let me go for a good
while. Leon could communicate more with his touch than most men could with
a dictionary full of words.

"Thanks, Leon, I needed that." I spoke softly.

"Anytime, Cowboy." He said quietly without emotion. I was getting better. A
little at a time.  Master Walker didn't push and Xander was a love.  He
would ask how I was doing and if I wanted to talk he'd listen, if not he'd
understand and go on his way.  I grew to love and respect him. I kept
reading Uncle Bud's letter.

One afternoon three Harley's pulled up out front.  My heart went to my
throat. I wasn't ready to see Booger yet.  I ran for the barn before anyone
could see me.  As it turned out it was Master Sam and two of his straight
bikers buddies, Bull and Charlie. I got myself busy cleaning out stalls in
the barn.  I didn't want to go to the house to meet them.  I was fond of
Master Sam but I was so shaken thinking that Big Red might be with them; I
didn't want to think about it.

I was angry at myself for feeling that way about a good, loving man who had
done nothing to me but want to love me. I was not ready to love anyone
again. I was doing good to get from day to day and the closest I'd come to
opening up to anyone was yesterday afternoon in the river with Leon.

It was another hot afternoon when Master Sam arrived.  I had my shirt off
and was working my ass off.  I set a goal for myself to get all the stalls
cleaned and fresh straw for the horses. It really was a two man job but I
was working out of anger.  Anger at myself for feeling that way about Red
and angry at God for taking my love away.

I was down to the last three stalls when I sat on a bail of hay to take a
breather. I heard Leon walk into the barn.  I was so use to the sound of
his boots I didn't open my eyes to see him approach.  I didn't realize but
my eyes were watering from the fumes from the dung and my thoughts.

Leon sat down beside me and didn't say a word. He just put his big arm
around me and kept his mouth shut.  It was such an understanding, gently
loving gesture that I leaned into him and quietly started crying. He put
both arms around me and held me tight.

"You've gotta' talk about it sometime, Cowboy." he said quietly but he
didn't insist. We sat there for a long time with him holding me, "You know
I ain't much of a talker but I can listen with the best of `em." I looked
up into his ruggedly, handsome face and saw the pain he felt for me
reflected in his eyes.  He pulled his bandana out of his back pocket and
gently wiped away the dirt and tears from my face.  Damn, I was filthy.
Then he gently kissed me again.  This time I didn't resist or hold back
from the big man. My dam broke and the waters of my life began to flow
again. My healing subconscious had taken over from my crippled psyche.

Leon told me with that kiss to put my trust in him and he would be my rock
to climb out of the mire. He was inviting me to flow into him without
criticism, judgment, or condemnation. I saw the pain in his face, the same
pain my dad experience when I was home that almost destroyed him.  With
Leon I was becoming a silent killer.  I didn't realize the big man was
working with me day to day, by my side, giving me strength and absorbing
more and more of my pain, without any words being exchanged between us.

I couldn't do that to anyone anymore. He had to have something from me in
return and my body was the thing he most wanted.  I knew that. I could see
the way he watched me when he didn't think I was looking.  That statement
sounded hollow, like Leon was a hound dog in heat and only wanted my body
for sex.  Not so!  Leon wanted all of me,---my body for what pleasure he
knew he could provide both of us and my love;-as much or as little as I
could give him at that time.  Leon was not an opportunist.  He was a simple
man with simple needs.

I wasn't afraid of hard work and Leon appreciated my natural affinity for
horses.  I could talk a horse into being ridden. I had learned from a
wonderful man when Uncle Bud and I were on the circuit.  He lived alone on
his ranch in Montana and Uncle Bud and I had stopped to say `Hello.'  Uncle
Bud knew him from his rodeo days. He taught me to `whisper' to horses to
get them to do anything you wanted once you got their trust.  You didn't
have to break them in a traumatic way.  I could take the wildest of saddle
broncs and within thirty minutes be riding him.  Impressed the shit out of
Leon and several others.

"Leon? May I come to your bunk this evening?"

"Only if you feel you're ready to give yourself to someone."  Damn, Leon
surprised me. He was not going to let me use him without something in
return.  Good for Leon.  Life is give and take.  You give me some of
yourself and I'll give you back your life.  Sounded like a deal to me. I
hadn't planned to withhold anything from him anyway but I was impressed by
the strength of his statement. I kissed him again.

"I will come to you clean and ready for your love. You will have all of me,
Leon, I promise."

"Come on then, Cowboy, lets finish these last stalls.  I'll give you a hand
and it'll go quicker.  You did a good job on `em.  I don't want you to work
that hard around here again without help.  I sure as hell don't want you
working that pretty little ass off."  he smiled wickedly. "I always
appreciate your help.  I haven't told you but having you work by my side
for the last several months has meant a lot to me. I've wanted you since
the first time I saw you three years ago. I prayed for you every night you
were over there; for God to protect you and let you come home.  My motives
were selfish, I guess, I just wanted to see you again;---to know you were
safe."

We finished cleaning the stalls and I returned to my small apartment over
the garages to clean up.  I no sooner got out of the shower than there came
a knock on the door. I didn't bother to wrap the towel around me.  No one
came to my door unless it was Master Walker or Xander. It was Master
Walker. He looked me up and down and smiled.

"Damn Son.  You look so much like your uncle it took my breath away for a
moment.  I miss him too, Billy.  He was one of the finest men I ever knew."
I hugged him and thanked him for letting me stay with him and Xander.

"Look Son, you've more than paid your way around here. I should put you on
the staff payroll and will if you'll agree to it.  Leon has been riding my
ass to hire another stable attendant and wants you.  I don't know what
you're doing out there but he can't say enough good things about you."

"Let me think about it, Master. I don't know how long I want to stay. I
feel like I'm getting better."

"It's up to you, Son. I won't insist but it's there if you want it;
however, that's not the reason I came out here. We're grilling steaks by
the pool for dinner. I'm going to go tell Leon next. After you dress join
us.  Master Sam and two of his straight friends are here.  He'd like to see
you again and introduce you to them."

"Would you please ask Leon to come by and get me, Master Walker?" Walker
raised an eyebrow at me and smiled slightly.

"Sure, Son, you and old Leon gettin' close?"

"It's time I let someone in, Master Walker."  He grabbed me and hugged me.

"I'm glad to hear that, Son.  We've all been worried about you and didn't
know what to do for you but let you be.  Maybe if you open up to Leon you
could ease Booger back into your life?  He's hurting, Billy.  He wants to
see you bad.  I can't keep him away much longer. The man fell deeply in
love with you." I couldn't answer. He knew what I was thinking. I still had
a fond spot in my heart for my beast but it was just a little to big to let
it through the door right now. Master Walker hugged me to him and didn't
say a word.

"Stay with us as long as it takes, Cowboy, you're loved here."

About thirty minutes later, came another knock on the door. I opened it and
there stood the most remarkably, rugged, handsome, cowboy with a huge black
felt hat, new jeans, beautiful western shirt and new boots.  God, was old
Leon looking good.

"Come in you handsome devil."  I laughed as I moved my left arm in a
sweeping gesture.

"Not to shabby yourself, Cowboy."  I grabbed my equally big, black, felt
hat and put it own. Leon reached up, took it off my head and threw both
hats on the bed.  He took me in his arms and kissed me in a lingering,
gentle, passionate kiss.  Took `me' breath away. I knew I was doing the
right thing by offering myself to him. I felt his manhood growing in his
levis like a snake.

"Me, too!" Was all I said when he finished and he laughed.

"Grab our bonnets, Cowboy!"

We went to the pool to join Master Walker and Xander.  We got cat calls and
wolf whistles of admiration from everyone on the deck.  Master Sam came to
me, hugged and kissed me.

"Damn, Billy, you look like a carbon copy of your dad, Bud. Except you're
slightly better looking.  I could have sworn it was him walking toward us a
minute ago. God, I loved that man.  One of the finest men I ever knew in my
life, Billy."

"Thank you, Master Sam.  Damn good to see you again."  Master Sam
introduced his two friends to me and Leon.  The big, mean looking one stood
up, shook my hand, then looked at me funny.

"That ain't gonna' get it, Cowboy?"  With that he grabbed me to him and
kissed me so hard I almost swooned. I wasn't expecting a straight man to
plant one on me like that.  I didn't hold back from him either.

"Well,---thank you, Master Bull."

"I ain't a Master, Kid.  I'm straight, but for you I'd sure as hell think
about jumping the fence." Everyone laughed.

"Thank you, Sir." I smiled as I replied.

The other good looking man, Charlie, kissed me too but not so suggestive.
He was well meaning and mannered.  He shook Leon's hand as did Bull. There
were four other couples there from Ft. Worth~Dallas area.  They were nice,
pleasant, good looking men. It was a pleasant evening and as dinner went on
someone who didn't know me brought up the subject of what we were doing in
Vietnam.

I didn't say a word and would have been all right except they kept talking
about it on and on.  Master Sam tried to change the subject several time to
no avail. He saw me getting uncomfortable. What was worse, they didn't have
a clue what was going on over there and what a waste of good men it had
become. Was it worth it? Then a couple of `my country right or wrong'
statements.----`We're saving the world from communism.'-`If we don't draw
the line, who will?'---on and on----

`At what price?' I wanted to scream.  `What price are you willing to pay?
What price is to high?  Who sets the price and why?  If you set the price,
would you go and fight by my side? Would you be the one to draw the line in
the sand?  Would you send your lover sitting next to you to die so some fat
cat in Washington can line his pockets with more money?  Let's talk price
for price, here!  Life for life!  What price can you set on any man's life?

Do you really think the men who manipulate these decisions are the least
bit interested in who or how many good men die for their profits?  Who will
you send? Who's life is worth more than another's?  We're not talking world
war, here.  We're not talking standing up for our country, putting our
lives on the line so future generations may breathe fee; we're talking some
hell hole of a stinking rice patty thousands of miles away that we don't
have the right to tell how they run their counties.

In the final analysis, bottom line,... what's it worth? Buck's life? Rowley
life? Ken's life? Your lover's life?  Look at him and tell him he has to
die because business has been bad lately.  Is it worth your shattered
existence as a surviving emotional cripple?

Draw a line in the sand, my ass!  My country, does a hell of a lot of
things right; it's also capable of being wrong; dead wrong.  Saving the
world from communism?  What a load of horse turds you've bought into.
You're only spouting forth the rhetoric your country white washes the
public with.  That's not why we're over there. Don't fool yourselves. I
kept quiet and sank lower in my chair.

I saw Walker looking at me with concern.  He could see the panic in my eyes
and knew I was about to bolt and run. I listened for a few more minutes and
had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom.  I ran to the bathroom off the
back entry to the big house barely in time to throw up. Leon came to find
me and broke into tears when he saw me kneeling in front of the toilet
retching my guts out, crying as hard as I could.  He got a wash cloth and
wet it with cold water and sat down with me to wipe my face and clean me.

Walker came to check on us and saw that Leon had things under control.  He
got tears in his eyes when he saw me and apologized for his friends.  I
felt like shit for embarrassing him.

"No, Master Walker, Leon.  Help me up. I have to face this.  I can't go on
this way."  I went back to the pool area supported by Leon and Walker.

"Gentleman, I'm sorry if I've ruined your evening. I have no control
sometimes when people talk about Nam.  You know only what our government
wants you to know about Nam.  I apologize to each of you, Master Walker and
Xander.  Please forgive me.

You want to know what it's like over there?" I asked in the calmest of
voices.  "You really want to know why we're there?  You want to know why I
was sent over there and what I was fighting for?  You want to know what I
went through?  The price I paid?  You want to know whether we should be
there or not?  With my boss, Master Walker's approval, I'll tell you my
story."  I looked at Master Walker and he nodded approval to me.

"Master Walker, Xander and their stable master, Leon, don't realize it but
they've become my saviors.  I wouldn't be able to attempt this without the
love and support they've given me this last six months. I'll tell you what
I went through.  I'll tell you what I saw with my own eyes.  You can hear
it from someone who's been there and lived it day after day for what seemed
like a Goddamned eternity.  Maybe, you'll have a better perspective of
what's really going on over there.  Then make up your own minds; decide for
yourselves whether we should be over there.  It'll be the first time I've
told anybody.

Leon says I have to talk about it sometime. Maybe he's right.  I want more
than anything to begin healing.  I can't go on slowly destroying those I
love with my pain because they love and care about me unconditionally.
Somewhere in life every man has to draw his personal line in the sand and
say to himself, `If you don't like what you've become,---change it!  Do
something about it!  It doesn't matter if you move up or down but, by God,
keep moving.'  I refuse to let what happened to me in Nam destroy me or the
love my family and friends have for me.

I told them everything from winning the nationals in Ft. Worth, competing
against Dan Yates and his son Buck; being drafted with Buck, boot camp, the
four cowboys, being inseparable, falling in love, them dying on top of me
to protect me and talking with them after they were dead.

Three of the men were crying in his lovers arms.  Xander was crying in
Master Walkers arms. Bull had tears running down his cheeks as he was
holding Charlie who was sobbing.  Master Sam laid his head on his arm on
the table and was crying. Even mean looking, hard, stoic Leon had tears
running down his leathered face as I described the unbearable pain of
surviving. Of having to go on when you didn't want to.  Yet you don't want
to harm those around you that are trying to care for you and love you.
Leon had his arm around me as I went on and on.

Finally I stopped. Master Walker, Xander and Leon had never heard my story
and didn't know about my love for Buck, Rowley or Ken. They were devastated
and began to understand why I was the way I had become. I was glad I got it
out!  I felt like a big burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I felt
like healing could begin.  I could go on and give myself to Leon with no
regrets.  A change brought about, all because I stood up and said,

"I'm not going to run any more.  You folks are gonna' know what it cost me.
Damn you if you can't or worse, won't understand.  Once again, gentlemen, I
apologize, but before you think bad of me for this evening be generous
enough to consider you may have helped heal a crippled spirit; helped set
him on his road to recovery, at no greater cost to you than listening.  For
that, I'm grateful. Thank you."  I didn't say another word.

They were all quiet for a good while.  Then they all assured me that they
needed to hear what I had to say. There was no doubt in their minds that we
shouldn't be over there.

I asked Leon if we could take off to his place.  He agreed and we left.  I
sent Leon back to talk to Walker and Xander to tell them how sorry I was.
He returned and told me that they had no idea what I'd been though and were
more resolved than ever to stand by me.  They both understood, without
doubt, why you can't see Booger right now.  Master Walker said to tell you
he would run interference for you as long as it takes.  You can see Booger
and deal with him when you're ready.  Also whether you like it or not
you're on the books as of this week and a full time employee.  You're
family now, Son.

That night I lay in Leon's comforting arms.  I was ready for him to take me
but he didn't.  He made the most understanding and comforting love to me
and held me close. He was in no hurry.  He wanted whatever passed between
us to be the best for both of us.  He knew he could have what he wanted
anytime, but he wanted it on his terms, from someone that could offer
themselves to him wholeheartedly as a complete soul. I was getting better,
but there were still times I was very much an emotional cripple.

Underneath all that quiet facade was a sensitive man who felt very deeply
about people.  To say he wasn't overly demonstrative was an
understatement. If you got a hug from Leon, it meant he was quite fond of
you. If you got a hug and a kiss on the forehead, he loved you deeply as a
friend.  If you got a hug and a kiss on the mouth he was in love with you.

I scared him to death during the night, even though, I had warned him about
my flashbacks. I told him to hold me `til I could orient myself. Call my
name and tell me his name and where I was.  Most times the delusions were
so real I was totally unaware of my current surroundings.  I would be back
there!  I would be running though that horrible jungle, tripping, falling,
getting up again to run.  Leon ended up holding me tight as I once again
cried myself back to sleep.

I couldn't keep doing this to others and myself.  I had to start healing.
I truly wanted to repay Leon for his unassuming efforts to help. Being
there and not demanding. Not pushing.  Just allowing me to be.  He wasn't a
saint.  He was a man who was trying to care. His strength radiated through
his silence.  The term, `the strong, silent type' never fit a man better
than Leon.

The next day was Sunday.  I was up early and went to the barn to feed and
do the chores.  I slipped out of bed and dressed quietly so's not to wake
Leon.  I wanted him to sleep in because he was up with me half the night.
I came back, showered, cleaned myself, slipped back in bed with him and
took him in my arms. I woke him when I did.

"What time is it?" He asked groggily.

"Time for some good old fashion cowboy lovin,' Hoss."

"Gotta' go feed and take care of the horses." he said as he yawned and
stretched.

"Done, Cowboy." I told him.

"You all ready done it?"  He asked bleary eyed.

"Yes Sir. Got up two hours ago and let you sleep in.  Cleaned myself, came
back to bed in hopes I could tempt a certain handsome cowpoke into riding
his old cayuse off into the sunset."  Leon smiled as he stretched and
pulled the sheet back to show me his morning erection. Damn,---I didn't
know if I could take that thing or not, but I was going to give it the old
college try. Then it hit me.  He would be the first person I would have sex
with since I last shared sex with Buck.  I could handle this.  I won't get
emotional.  Think of your original reason for offering yourself to Leon.
Partial repayment for allowing you to tap his strength.  Do it Cowboy!

"You can do this, Cowboy!" I heard the sound of Buck's voice echoing in my
brain. I lay there holding Leon rubbing my hands over his hairy chest and
pectoral muscles.

"Thanks, Cowboy." I said quietly.  He didn't respond but simply turned his
head up to mine and kissed me gently.

"Anytime, Cowboy."  he said. "Let's mount up and play pony express.

"How ya' play that?" I asked innocently.

"I'll stick a stamp on your forehead and ride you fast and hard `til you
deliver."

"Saddle me up, Cowboy, and slap some leather.  Don't spare them spurs! I
promise this old hoss' will deliver your mail on time." With that he took
me long, deep and hard. The only way a cowboy should mount his pony. Then
he rode me on down the trail. He didn't spare the leather nor the
spurs. Two heavy loads were delivered in record time.  There was a lot of
it, too.


End of Part 4
Bogger Red & Cowboy
Copyright 2003 Waddie Greywolf
Mail to: <waddiebear@yahoo.com>