Date: Wed, 21 Aug 2002 11:43:04 EDT
From: Tulsadriller7@aol.com
Subject: Tales from the Ranch, Chapter 1/?
Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. If you
are offended by descriptions of homosexual acts or man/man
relations, please exit this page.
TALES FROM THE RANCH
Copyright 2002 by Tulsa Driller 7. All rights reserved.
This is a story of men who have two common interests. You will
see that they love the land they live on and work, but it is also
the story of young men who love other men and their coming of age
in a culture of prejudice and misunderstanding. It is a story,
which deals with difficult and often disturbing issues but,
nonetheless, issues which must be confronted in today's world.
This is a work of fiction and in no ways draws on the lives of
any specific person or persons. Any similarity to actual persons
or events is entirely coincidental. This work is copyrighted 1
by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the
specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the
Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but
it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the
written permission of the author.
There is not much in the way of sex in the first three chapters.
I felt it necessary to introduce the main characters and allow
you to get acquainted with them before getting them involved in
erotic activities.
Tales from the Ranch
by Tulsa Driller 7
Chapter 1
The Bar-W ranch encompasses more than 16,000 acres (about 25
square miles) and has been in the Williamson family for over 150
years starting in 1846, a year after Texas became the 28th state.
The original land grant of 160 acres was homesteaded by Col.
Purvis Q. Williamson who served in the Texas Militia, starting
when he was 16 years old. He was married to his wife the year
Texas became a state and their first child was born a year later,
just after the original land was secured.
The ranch has been in the family for six generations, each of
which has added more land, buildings and improvements. It is
obviously land that belongs to people of wealth as the home is
palatial and all buildings are built from either brick or stone,
quarried on the lower end of the property.
The land, in the middle of the great state, has terrain
ranging from rough and hilly with deep ravines to flat bottom
land (flood-plain) supporting many kinds of crops ranging from
wheat to corn and silage, with numerous fields set aside for
clover hay, alfalfa and grazing land. Two small rivers run
through the ranch, with two good-sized lakes and many ponds to
retain water for the livestock.
At any given point in time, there are many herds of beef
cattle being raised in large pastures set aside for that purpose.
This is a source of a large cash income for the owners as they
raise the cattle from calves instead of buying young stock at the
market. They are better able to control the quality of beef
being raised and their animals always bring a premium price from
the packing companies.
The ranch also encompasses a horse farm where Appaloosa
horses are bred and raised. Again the operation is a moneymaking
proposition with a heavy demand for horses bred and raised by the
Williamson family.
Forest conservation has been an interest of several
generations and the heavy stands of native walnut and oak trees
are another cash-crop as many trees are sold to a local mill that
supplies wood hobbyists with wood for making fine furniture,
clocks and decorative trim.
In addition, oil and gas was discovered on the property in
1921 and this had provided the beginning of the family fortune
and allowed adjoining land to be purchased as it became
available. Those who were responsible for buying the land always
saw to it that a fair price was paid to the owners. At the
present time, a section of land not touching the ranch has become
available and work is in process to buy that. It will be the
first time that property not touching the ranch boundaries would
be purchased. It is hoped that the farm in-between the two
pieces of property would be put on the market soon as the owners
are older and have no immediate family to pass it to.
The present owners are Martin and Christine Williamson, who
have been married for 24 years and have two sons, Jason and Kevin
who are both away at college. Although both of the boys are
studying for degrees in other fields, they each know that they
will be responsible for taking over the ranch upon the eventual
death of their parents.
Jason is 22, at the end of his junior year and studying
Veterinary medicine at North Central A&M. He stands an even 6',
weighs 195 lbs, has brown hair and hazel eyes and is a cadet in
the college ROTC program.
Kevin is 20, at the end of his sophomore year and studying
Architecture at Midland University. He is 5'11", weighs 190 lbs,
has dark blond hair and blue eyes and is captain of the school
soccer team.
Martin Williamson, Jr. is 47 years old, an only child. He
is a respected member of the community, served on many local
boards, including being president of the school board and vice-
chairman of the Bank of Commerce. Marty, as he is usually
called, has a degree in biology, but loves the land and has never
thought of doing anything else. True, his interest in genetics
(hence the biology degree) has served the ranch well, resulting
in better blood lines and improvement in the herds of cattle and
horses, not to mention better crops and conservation efforts. He
assumed his role as co-owner when his father, Martin Senior,
turned the everyday operation over to him 15 years ago.
Christine Lovell Williamson grew up in Dallas and met her
future husband while both were seniors at Baylor University. It
was love at first sight, although they didn't start dating until
several months later. Her family had been established in Texas
since it was the Republic of Texas and her parents own a large
construction company, which builds roads as well as commercial
buildings all over Texas and the surrounding states. She and her
brother and sister had grown up "privileged" but really were not
aware of their family being wealthy. Although it was a case of
"money marrying money" both families had established that wealth
long before the wedding took place.
Williamsport, Texas is west of Austin, the state capital,
and was named by Col. Purvis Williamson when he persuaded about a
dozen families to take up land and locate in that area. The town
has grown into a small city of about 20,000 people and draws both
farm and city people from a wide area to shop. In fact, several
large stores in Austin have located branch stores there.
The Williams family supports many charities, both local and
statewide and attend many conventions of the various groups to
which the family belong. This ranges from Rotary International
to several Masonic clubs on to Goodwill and the Republican Party.
The family contributes time and effort as well as money to these
worthy causes.
Both Jason and Kevin have been involved in 4-H, DeMolay and
many high school athletic groups.
St. James the Less Episcopal Church has benefited from the
Williamson money since it's beginning in 1850 when Col. Purvis
Williamson and his wife, Sarah, saw to it that an Anglican priest
from England was secured so a parish could be started. At first
the church met in the local Masonic Hall and then later, the
Colonel and Sarah donated stone from the quarry to build a
permanent building. This building still exists as a chapel for a
newer church building built in 1909. Senator Philbrook and
Marguerite Williamson, Marty's Great-grandparents gave that
building. Senator Philbrook S. Williamson was a noted attorney
and served as a Texas state senator for 20 years before his
death.
Martin and Christine had given the large Schantz pipe organ
in the chancel in memory of Marty's grandparents, who both died
in a plane crash in 1986. Marty's mother, Jeanine, had received
her degree in music from SMU and had extensive training in
playing the organ. Although she was not the regular organist,
she frequently filled in when necessary, much to the delight of
her family.
Marty and Christine had been married for a little over a
year when they found out their first child was on the way. Jason
was born in 1979 on April 18th, weighing in at 7 lbs, 4 oz and
was 21 inches long. It was a joyous occasion as he was a first
grandchild for both sets of grandparents. A short time prior to
his birth, Marty's parents had insisted that he and Christine
move into the large house where they would have more room. A
trade was made with the homes, with Martin Sr. and Jeanine moving
into the smaller home that Marty and Christine had lived in since
their marriage. Looking back at the history of the family, this
had happened more than once. The "small house" had been the home
for two generations of the Williamson family until the larger
house was built in 1923. After that it had served as the home
for the young owner-to-be for a period of time until one or both
parents had passed on. It was on the opposite side of the
driveway, about 300 feet from the large house.
Marty's parents, however, felt that with the large parties
and entertaining the family did, that it was only right he and
Christine occupy the larger home. This was probably a wise
decision as it gave the room needed for a live-in domestic woman
to have a couple of rooms for herself and still be available for
child-care and other household labor required of her.
Kevin was born almost two years later on March 4, 1981,
weighing 7 lbs, 6 oz and was 20 inches long. Both births were a
cause of great celebration in the Williamson family and the boys
were the oldest of six grandchildren of the Lovell family.
Jason remembers
Of course I don't remember too many events from the time
before I was five, but birthday parties and Christmas did get my
attention.
Some of the earliest recollections I have must be from when
I was around 3 years old. I remember my parents, grandparents
and especially my little brother, Kevin. At that point in time
he was crawling around on the floor most of the time and was able
to pull himself upright by grabbing onto tables and chairs.
We both got a lot of attention from everyone, but during the
day we both spent most of the time in the nursery (our bedroom)
on the second floor. Mom, grand-mom and Mrs. Wood, who was our
housekeeper and cook, were in and out of the room all day long.
We had one big area where we played, actually a big playpen that
was full of soft toys and blankets. Our family had a female
collie that spent her time in the house and always with Kevin and
I. Mom said that "Sandy" had adopted me when they brought me
home from the hospital and had slept in my room, under my crib
from the beginning.
When Kevin came along, he became one of her charges, too.
She never made any noise when a visitor came to our room, but if
it was someone she didn't know, she was always between them and
us. She must have been a very patient dog, because I can
remember both of us getting pretty rough with her, using her for
a pillow, trying to ride on her back and just doing things that
small boys do.
Those who knew us at a young age have told me many stories
about me protecting my little brother. From a very early time I
made it known that he "belonged to me" and not to anyone else.
And... We were largely raised as if we were the same age. We
shared meals, baths and a bed after Kevin was three and I was
about five. I wouldn't have it any other way, but that he was
going to sleep with me so I could protect him. What from, I
don't know unless it was the typical kind of ghosts and goblins,
which later became Indians and cattle rustlers as our
imaginations grew.
I do remember that I got upset when a second single bed was
added to our room for Kevin to sleep in. The first few nights, I
slept in his bed with him, "to make sure he didn't fall out of
bed" as I explained to our parents. A few nights later, Dad and
Mom made me get in my own bed. Kevin woke up in the middle of
the night, discovered he was alone and we both woke up in my bed
the next morning.
This pattern went on for quite a few nights and finally our
parents gave up and let us sleep where we pleased; sometimes in
Kevin's bed and sometimes in mine.
By the time I was eight years old, our parents decided that
the "nursery room" or our single beds weren't large enough for us
both and that I should have my own room down the hall. Kevin
would stay in the room we now shared. This met with loud
protests from both of us. Our parents thought that we each
"needed our own space" and that the old room wasn't large enough
for both of us. I remember my protest was "He's my brother and
he needs me to watch out for him."
I don't know all of the details, but my parents must have
discussed the solution with each other because when we came home
from school one afternoon there were three carpenters at our
house, doing a major remodel of the second floor. Our house was
large. Our parents had a "master suite" on one end of the second
floor, which was actually a large bedroom/sitting room, office
space for both, walk-in closet and a huge bathroom with a
whirlpool tub.
The carpenters were wrecking the other end of the second
floor and actually making two bedrooms into one huge one with a
big bathroom. This would still leave four bedrooms and two baths
for guests as our "nursery" would become a guest room.
Dad and Mom were upstairs talking to the lead carpenter when
we arrived home and proudly showed us the plans and sketches for
our new rooms. The area was going to be 15 by 36 feet and then
there would be a big bathroom with a whirlpool tub, big glass
walk-in shower and two washbasins with a stool in a small alcove.
Next to it would be a large walk-in closet and storage area. In
the bedroom, there was plenty of room for two queen beds with
dressers and two desks with room for a computer table to be added
later. There was space adjoining for a large-screen TV and
chairs so we could have friends to visit for overnight or after
school parties. We were even getting a little refrigerator where
we could keep soft drinks and snacks.
Kev and I were so excited and Mom and Dad got lots of hugs
and kisses with us, all telling each other how much we loved
them. We couldn't believe that we were going to get an "adult"
room and that we were going to get to share it with each other.
It took three weeks from the time the carpenters started
until the rooms were finished. They had to rip out sheetrock,
install new plumbing, which meant that part of the floor had to
be torn up, put in new windows and vents to handle heating and
cooling.
The next afternoon, Mom picked us up when school was out and
we went shopping for new beds, desks, and our own TV set. We let
Mom be in charge of picking out the beds and mattress sets, as we
didn't know anything about that. We did, however, choose desks
that were alike. Maybe I should say that I chose my desk and
Kevin wanted one just like it. We went to another department to
look at material for curtains and bedspreads and also wallpaper,
paint and carpet.
Of course we didn't think we'd be interested in those
things, but a very nice young man named Brian was there to help
us. We knew Brian's youngest brother, Jimmy who was in my class.
Mom told us later that Brian and Jimmy were part (actually the
oldest and youngest) of a large family of 7 children and their
family owned the store where we had shopped. We immediately
liked Brian and he certainly was helpful to Mom, Kev and I. He
showed us materials that could be used for bedspreads and
curtains and helped pick out carpet, too. I guess I had always
taken it for granted that material was just material.
He started out with trying to find something that would make
nice bedspreads for young boys. Kev immediately told him that we
didn't want any "kid stuff" like cowboy and Indian things. He
told him that we were big boys and that although we liked stuff
of that sort, we might get tired of it. And that, coming from a
6 year old? Well, he may have been six, but Dad always said that
we both were born as adults in little bodies.
Anyway, we ended up with "tartan plaid" green and red
bedspreads and material for long curtains (drapes?) that had the
same colors, but in a modern abstract pattern.
The curtains for the bathroom would be a brilliant red and green
geometric design as the fixtures were all going to be light
beige.
Although Mom had all of the measurements for the windows,
Brian told us that he would feel a lot better if he came out and
measured them himself since everything had to be custom-made.
* * * * *
The next three weeks went by slowly although we could see a
lot of progress each day when we came home from school. The
carpenters had done many other projects for our family over the
years so my Dad wouldn't have thought of calling anyone else.
They even worked two Saturday's as they had another big
remodeling project after ours. Come to think of it, they
probably were busy all the time.
I think that this must have been about the time that I began
to notice men other than the men in our family. My great
grandfather had died a year before, when I was seven, but I
remembered him well as he always came to our room every evening
to say "hi" and see what Kev and I had done all day. He was
always jovial and we both knew he loved us.
Of course, our Dad and Grandfather were around all the time,
too, but I had just now started to notice physical
characteristics, such as Dad's handsome face with a full
mustache, deep blue eyes and dark blond hair. Dad enjoyed being
outdoors and spent a lot of time on horseback, riding to see what
was going on around the ranch instead of driving everywhere. As
a result he was deeply tanned. He had a hairy chest that spilled
out above the neckband of his t-shirt when he wore one.
Otherwise, it looked like a forest of hair in the open vee of his
shirt collar. At that time, Dad was about 33 years old. He had
played football and basketball in high school and ran track, too.
Although he didn't have time for athletics in college, he stayed
in shape by working on the ranch in the summer. Even though we
had a large crew of ranch-hands, there was no work he wouldn't
help with and his body showed it. Lean, tight and tough.
I was quite taken by the guys who were doing the remodeling.
All were in their mid-30's, in fact had gone to high school with
my dad and played on the same teams. They were pals then and
still were.
The lead carpenter (I later found out they all owned the
company together) was Roy and he was the friendliest of the
three. He always took the time to answer my many questions and
explain why this or that had to be done as they were moving
plumbing and walls, running electric lines, hanging sheetrock or
any of the dozens of other tasks they did.
Although I didn't have a term for it at the time - I later
would use the word "hunk" - Roy was as handsome as my Dad and
there was just something about him that tweaked my interest.
Being 8 years old, I didn't know what it was, but I wanted to be
around him while he worked. He didn't hesitate to ruffle my
hair, squeeze my shoulder or pat me on the butt, if I was in his
way, to move me along. I liked it.
It was amazing the last week how everything came together
and quickly. It seemed like the week before it had been one big
empty room, although the bathroom fixtures were in place and that
wall was finished. The doors into the hallway, bathroom and
closet still weren't hung. The sheetrock was sanded and ready to
paint or cover with wallpaper in some areas. From then on every
little bit of work completed made all the difference in the way
the room looked. We came home from school that last Monday to
find that all of the wood trim was in place. Wow! That made the
room. The next day, the carpet layers had been there. On
Wednesday, the furniture was delivered and the next day the
drapes were hung and bedspreads delivered. The bathroom was
completed on Friday and Kev and I celebrated by sleeping in our
new room that night.
The room was actually divided into two rooms with just a
stub wall between them. Our beds and dressers were in the area
closest to the bathroom and closet. The other, larger area was
where our desks, the computer table, TV-entertainment center and
chairs were. Also, we had a couple of big beanbags on the floor,
too. To us it was like a luxury suite at a fine hotel.
Roy and his partners, Keith and Andy had really done their
job well.
Kevin remembers
I can remember there was lots of love in our house from the
first time I became aware of anything going on around me. If I
really think about it, and maybe that's just because I've been
told the story many times, the first I really remember is
sleeping in the same bed with my brother, Jason.
At three years of age, I was moved from my crib to a "youth
bed", actually just a single bed that was pushed up against the
wall. Jason told our parents that there was no need for them to
put a rail up to keep me from rolling out and falling on the
floor as he was going to sleep with me to protect me.
And protect me, he did. He even woke up in the middle of
the night and took me to the bathroom so I could pee and not wet
the bed. Many years later when our collie, Sandy, died and we
got a new puppy, he did the same thing for her. To my knowledge
there was never an accident caused by me - or the puppy. Talk
about being "housebroken". But that was just Jason, responsible,
thoughtful and most of all he loved me and watched out for me.
There was almost two years difference in our ages. But for
about a month and a half after my birthday, there was only a
year's difference in numbers. It always made me feel more grown-
up and important when I could say I was only a year younger than
him.
Dad always said that both of us were born as little adults
in kid's bodies. Maybe it's because we were always treated as
such and learned from an early age that although we might have
our own ideas, things just didn't happen because we wanted them
to. We always had a chance to explain why we wanted something,
then Dad or Mom would talk about how that would affect the
family. Many times we were allowed to do what we wanted, but it
was usually modified with everyone else in mind.
I don't remember ever being spanked or really punished for
anything we did that was bad or wrong. It just didn't happen.
Many times we had to go sit quietly and think about something, or
be called in for "the talk" where something was explained in
terms that left no doubt to our understanding what was expected
of us.
Our ranch was a "working ranch" as our parents liked to
explain it to other people. We didn't depend on what we raised
to feed the family in that way. We didn't have a big vegetable
garden where everything was canned or preserved. However, there
was a "kitchen garden" full of herbs, tomatoes, bell peppers and
other things we all grew to like.
The cattle were raised solely to be sold as "beef on the
hoof" to a local slaughterhouse. We always had prime quality
cattle and Dad saw to it that new bloodlines were introduced each
year at breeding time.
However, both Jason and I were encouraged to belong to 4-H
and FFA (Future Farmers of America) and participate in their
projects to learn to care for animals and take care of a farm.
For this reason, we had a large barn that stood about 500 feet
away from the house where we raised calves, sheep and even had a
couple of goats for a year or so. There was one Jersey milk cow
and she did provide us with milk and, of course, cream and
butter. No taste like fresh milk that is thick and not watery
like the blue, see-through stuff in the grocery store.
We always had a few chickens to provide eggs along with
ducks and geese because they were fun to watch. And, of course
plenty of dogs and cats. The dogs made good watchdogs, but were
there primarily to help work the cattle we raised. And, for a
"watch animal" you can't beat geese. They didn't like anyone
invading their territory. We didn't have to worry too much about
snakes, either, because the chickens didn't like them and would
peck them to death.
We always had big celebrations when it came time for
birthdays and especially Christmas.
Birthdays were always just a family affair when it was the
adults who were celebrating. We seldom had anyone extra except
for grandparents and aunts, uncles and cousins. When it was
Jason or me having a birthday, then we were usually allowed to
invite about a dozen kids from school for an after school party
with games, ice cream and cake. As we got older, these turned
into slumber parties held on a Friday night. There wasn't much
slumbering going on, and as we got older there was a lot of fun
things that we taught each other.
Since our family was active in St. James parish, Jason and I
served as altar boys as we grew. I remember how excited I was
when I was six to be chosen as the acolyte to carry the incense
boat and walk with the thurifer ahead of the processional cross.
I really felt that I'd "made it" - big time. Actually I didn't
have to do anything except to carry this covered silver bowl that
held the incense pellets. When it came time for incense to be
used during the mass - at the reading of the Holy Gospel and
again at the Offertory - I walked with the thurifer and the
priest added incense pellets to the censer (or thurible). It
really made me feel grown-up and proud to help with the mass.
Jason had performed this task when he first became an
acolyte, then later we both worked out way up through the various
duties, carrying processional candles, being the crucifer
(carrying the processional cross), carrying the clergy cross,
being the thurifer (carrying and swinging the censer), ringing
the Sanctus bell during the mass, and being server for the
priest, helping he and the deacon prepare the elements for
consecration. Both our priest and the Acolyte Master were stern
taskmasters and we learned that these were not "play jobs"; this
was our part of a tradition that went back many hundreds of
years.
Christmas was an "all-out" event for our family. Of course,
many of the traditions centered in the ritual of the church,
starting with Advent Sunday (four weeks before Christmas) and
ending with Epiphany which celebrated the coming of the Three
Wise Men and was the end of the Twelve Days of Christmas.
There were lots of Christmas parties during the season. Our
parents had many friends to entertain from the various groups,
clubs and businesses they worked with. So, the house was usually
decorated about a week after Thanksgiving. There was nothing
elaborate about the decorations, lots of greenery, bows and
pinecones and a big tree in the family room. But we had a big
house and there were lots of decorations to put up. Mother
usually hired a local florist to "hang the greens" as she called
it, but the decorating of the big tree in the family room was
strictly for our family. Our family tradition was that we
decorated the tree on the afternoon of Advent Sunday. No excuses
- be there. We always had a big pot of chili to finish the
decorating.
Our family tradition was that since we generally had
everything we needed, we didn't buy much for each other, but were
encouraged to give to those in need and support the organizations
that helped these people. In addition, we "adopted" two families
and provided them with a large box of groceries with clothing for
everyone and toys for the children. In looking back on this, I
know that my parents laid out quite a few dollars to make a Merry
Christmas for those less fortunate.
And, we weren't slighted in any way when it came to gifts
for each other. We just didn't have a room full of presents like
a lot of other families. We each usually received a major gift
and then clothes. It was never anything that we "needed" as we
always had the necessary things. Of course our stockings
contained a lot of candy and many small, fun items.
Jason wanted an electric train when he was seven and Dad and
Mom bought him a basic HO gauge set. There was a room set aside
in the basement for "our" train room because I received an engine
and caboose of my own to go with the set. As I remember, this
model railroad grew very quickly because Dad "suddenly
remembered" that he had lots of model railroad equipment, too.
His set had been torn down and packed when my parents moved into
the "big house". I don't know which of us was the biggest kid at
our house, but that railroad grew and grew and grew. We had as
much equipment as Santa Fe and probably a lot more fun. Whenever
our school friends (and many adults, too) came to the house, they
always wanted to play with the trains. Later, when we brought
friends home from college for the weekend, the trains got a
workout. So, if you want something fun that will last forever
and has no age limit, get an electric train.
I cannot remember a time when our house wasn't full of love.
Unfortunately, Jason and I never really knew our Great
grandparents well as they were killed in the crash of a small
plane going from the airport in the town nearest us. Dad was
supposed to have gone with them and woke up that morning with flu
symptoms. Needless to say he was very shaken up when the County
Sheriff arrived at our front door to talk to Dad and Mom and tell
them what had happened. The plane made a normal take-off with
the pilot and one of his students at the controls, my Great-
grandparents sitting in the back seat. All were killed when the
plane crashed about an hour later over level ground. The crash
investigation did not turn up any conclusive evidence of what
caused the crash.
Needless to say, this caused much grief in our family. Dad
had a guilty conscience because had he gone, the student pilot
would not have been on board. Still, there was no proof that he
was the cause of the crash.
* * * * *
I was so excited when I found out that Jason and I were
getting a new bedroom - actually a "suite" like Dad and Mom had.
This was to be "our room" and we were going to share it with each
other. We were growing up.
* * * * *
Author's Note: This is my first attempt at gay fiction, and the
only way I can learn whether or not I should continue is from my
readers' feedback. I would appreciate your comments, criticism,
suggestions, and anything else that you would care to say. All
Email will be answered. If you wish to receive e-mail
notification of subsequent posting, please let me know by sending
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