Date: Sun, 23 Nov 2003 07:47:37 -0700
From: Chad Cougar <ataq_katt@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Wild West 3

I never dreamed that I could affect so many people, and I am staggered by
the outpouring of stories that have been emailed to me.  I sincerely
appreciate the honesty of those emails.  I am truly honored to get such high
praise, but remember one thing.  This is an "every man" story, I wanted it
to be about all of us, so if it gets a little gritty I apologize but I know
what I want it to say.  Thank you for reading, and please thank Nifty for
keeping such a forum open for us. Oh, and thank God for the Massachusetts
Supreme Court, lol.  Go get `em, boys!  There is hope for us all.

Ataq_katt@hotmail.com


The Wild West 3:


	"Look, I don't care what the charges will be.  If I don't have anyone to
charge it doesn't matter."  Blake Frost led the two agents from the FBI into
his office and offered them seats.  "Calling it a hate crime is ridiculous.
All violent crimes are hate crimes."  He sat down across the desk from them.
  "I can't see how this will make a damn bit of difference."

	"A hate crime is federal, Sheriff.  It changes the jurisdiction."  Agent
Ron Meredith said, leaning back in the chair.  "It's still your ball game,
but I send in more agents to help you investigate, and when we get the bad
guy we prosecute and save you a ton of money."

	"There's good and bad to that."  Frost rubbed his face.  "See, the people
that elected me want to see me catch this bastard or bastards and hang him
in the town square.  These are simple hard working people that don't give a
rat's ass about your labels for things."  He put his foot up on the corner
of the desk.  "The other side of that coin is we are looking at covering an
enormous geographical area, and this department doesn't have the resources
to keep up a huge investigation indefinitely."

	"Sheriff, you have my word we'll help you not hinder you."  Agent Meredith
steepled his fingers.  "As for showing your constituents that they are in
good hands we can assist with that, too.  We aren't here to steel thunder."

	"I could care less about the thunder."  Frost said sharply.  "What I do
care about is that people feel safe in their homes.  I grew up here.  I've
been here my whole life.  The people in this county won't tolerate a maniac
like this running loose."

	"I understand, and I believe we're on the same page, Sheriff."  The two
agents stood up and Meredith offered his hand.  "I'll set up a briefing in
the morning.  In the mean time is it okay if we get started?"

	"Yeah, do that.  Let me know how I can help."  Frost shook the man's hand.




	Dwight Morgan looked up as a bail off hay crashed to the ground behind his
truck.  "Hey, you two little shits better watch what you're doin'."  He
shook his fist in mock anger as Brock and Tony looked down from the top of
the stack.

	"Sorry, pop."  Brock waved and grinned at him.  "If you'd quit movin' you'd
be easier to hit."  He was bare chested and covered with sweat.  He wiped
his arm across his brow.

	"Smart ass punk."  Dwight chuckled.  "You about done?"

	"Just gotta load the trailer and feed the horses."  Tony called down.  He
was also bare chested and grimy.  They'd restacked the entire barn from six
that morning until now.  It was almost three.

	"That's good."  Dwight nodded, pleased.  "I'm taking your mother into town.
  We won't get back until about nine, so go into town and get your selves
some dinner.  I left some cash on the table."

	"I got plenty, dad."  Brock called down.  "We was thinkin' about goin' up
to Lava for the night.  I want to soak my back in the hot pots."  Lava Hot
Springs was a small community not far across the Idaho border that was
famous for thermally heated mineral springs.  There were a few small motels
and two restaurants in the tiny town.  Brock and Tony went up there a few
times a year so Brock could soak his bad knees from his rodeo days.

	"Sounds good.  I'll let the boys know you won't be here in the morning."
Dwight waved at them and headed for the house.

	Brock sat down on a bail of hay and pushed the brim of his hat up.  "I
don't think I can make it down."  He groaned and leaned back.

	"Bullshit."  Tony wiped the sweat off his face and sat down across from
him.  "We have too, all the beers down there."  Brock laughed and closed his
eyes.  "How many bails did we move today do you think?"

	"Three tons?"  Brock guessed.  "I don't know, I lost count."

	"At least it's tied together now."  Tony yawned hugely.

	"If you get tired now we won't make it to Lava."  Brock forced himself to
stand up and held out his gloved hand to pull Tony to his feet.  "We better
get our asses in gear or it'll be dark and the pots will close."  They made
their way to the side of the huge hay stack and down the ladder.  Brock
grabbed their shirts as they headed for the house and tossed Tony his.

	"Boys, do you need anything from the store?"  Colleen looked up from
checking her purse.  "We're going to Shopko and Wal-Mart and then get some
dinner on the way back."

	"I'm good, momma."  Brock kissed her cheek as he passed by.  "Keep an eye
on the old fart for us."

	"I heard that!"  Dwight called from the other room.  "Snot nosed brat!"

	Tony chuckled and kissed her too.  "Nothing, ma'am.  I'm good, too."  They
climbed the stairs tiredly and listened as Brock's parents went out the
door.

	Brock pulled off his boots and tossed them in the general direction of the
closet and pulled his pants off.  "Think we need to call for a room?"  He
tossed his boxers and jeans at the hamper and grabbed a wrap out of the
dresser.

	"It's the middle of the week and the seasons over."  Tony stripped and got
one of Brock's wraps out as well.  "They'll probably be glad to see us."

	"Yeah, it's probably deserted."  Brock started the shower and stepped in.
"Do the pots close early in the fall?"

	"We can be there in an hour."  Tony brushed his teeth and trimmed his
goatee.  When Brock finished he left the water running and Tony traded him
places.  "Want to eat up there or down here on the way?"

	"There's that truck stop in McKammon."  Brock offered, touching up his
razor line beard.

	"No way."  Tony washed his hair.  "I got sicker than shit there last time.
The rigs out side had less grease on them than my hamburger did."

	Brock chuckled.  "You ain't a real cowboy.  You're supposed to like grease
on your food.  That's what makes it man food."  He grunted a couple times
like an ape.

	Tony finished and shut off the water.  "As you are fond of pointing out I
am not a full blooded cowboy and never will be."  He toweled his head
briskly.

	Brock eyed Tony's reflection in the mirror and felt a funny sensation in
his stomach.  He smiled and set the razor down, turning to lean on the
counter.  "I think you're cowboy enough for me."  He said quietly.

	Tony stopped and wrapped the towel around his waist.  "Brock Morgan, are
you being mushy?"  He grinned.

	"Maybe."  Brock smiled back.  "What if I am?"

	"Hey, you already know I'm cool with it."  Tony chuckled and headed through
the door into his room.  "You may recall I'm waiting on you."

	"I'm sorry."  Brock responded quietly.  "I know how I feel; it's a big cop
out to say I'm confused.  I just don't have it figured out yet."  He leaned
against the door jam and folded his arms.  "You know how I feel, right?"

	"Yeah, I do."  Tony pulled on boxers and jeans.  "I wasn't complaining or
rushing you, Brock.  You aren't feeling anything I didn't go through.  It'll
work itself out."

	"Yeah."  Brock pushed off and went to his room to change.  In the five days
that had gone by since the attack he'd been trying to figure out where he
was at every waking moment.  Since he'd kissed Tony out in the pasture
something had changed and he alternated feeling excited with being moody.
Some nights he didn't sleep well and other nights he was exhausted, but he
could never get Tony out of his mind.

	Fortunately Tony was being really cool about it.  He went out of his way to
make sure that nothing had changed between them, even though it had, and he
put no pressure on Brock at all, although Brock knew he desperately wanted
to.  Actually, deep down, Brock wanted that too, but he couldn't yet admit
it.  Without realizing it he wore what Tony referred to as his `get sexy'
suit.  Blue silk boxers; skin tight Wranglers, and a form fitting western
t-shirt.  When they went to the bar it drove the girls crazy.  Brock was
beginning to see now why he didn't like that.

	They ate at the Crossroads, a gas station and diner in one building on the
north east end of Tremonton.  It had been in business for many years and was
a favorite of the locals.  The place was usually busy, and almost everyone
knew who they were.  Tony called it the country Cheers.

	The drive after that wasn't long, and before long they were driving into
the small canyon that surrounded Lava Hot Springs, Idaho.  Coming from the
direction of I-15 the first thing they saw was the enormous Olympic sized
swimming pool on the edge of the tiny resort town.  Immediately after the
pool was the exit into town, and Brock steered down the gentle slope to the
bridge across the river that led on to the quiet main street.  There weren't
many cars along the streets this time of year, and the traffic was
non-existent.  They drove the three blocks to the place they usually stayed,
the Lava Spa Motel, and parked in the center of the u-shaped motel.  Brock
headed into the small office to check in and Tony grabbed their bag.

	"Evening, boys."  A middle aged man with dark hair stood up from watching
jeopardy and came to the counter.  "Staying with us tonight?"

	"Yeah, gotta soak my back."  Brock said pleasantly.  "Shoulda come up a
month ago but couldn't get away."  He handed a credit card and his license
to the man.  "Got a double open?"

	"Oh, I think we can fit you in."  The man smiled.  "We're swamped but
there's one left."  He handed Brock a card to fill out and ran the credit
card.

	Tony stood by the door and shook his head.  Brock like his dad knew how to
work a crowd.  His gift of the gab was a natural talent, and people
automatically liked the tall young cowboy.  He was so damned genuine that it
was like he had nothing in his mind he would hide.  Tony dropped the bag and
sat in a chair by the door.

	"Mid week special."  The man handed Brock a couple of cards.  "You can go
over to the hot pots for half price or buy one get one free."

	"I surely appreciate that."  Brock tucked them in his wallet.  "That's why
we come up here to stay."

	"They close at eight now because of the season."  The man offered and
glanced at the clock.  "Looks like you have about three hours."

	"Should be plenty."  Brock accepted the room keys and tossed one to Tony.
"Thanks, sir."

	"See you at check out."  The man waved and turned back to his TV.




	Dwight Morgan pulled his truck into the Wal-Mart parking lot and looked
towards the entrance where a large crowd of people had formed.  "What d'you
suppose is going on over there?"  He asked, slowing the truck to a crawl.
"That looks like a mob."

	Colleen, his wife of almost forty years leaned forward, her hands
involuntarily tightening on her purse.  "I don't like the looks of it, Dee.
Maybe we should just go home."  They could hear raised voices through the
windows.  Two or three small snowflakes fell on the windshield and melted
away.

	"Better find out what's going on, honey.  You stay in the truck."  Dwight
pulled into a parking place well away from the crowd and left the engine
running.  "Lock the doors after I get out."

	"That's crazy talk!"  Colleen said nervously.  "Dee, don't leave me here!"

	"Everything's fine."  He soothed, offering her a smile.  "I'll be right
back and we'll go shopping."  He closed the door and pointed at the lock
through the window.  She nodded and hit the button, locking the door, and he
smiled and waved before heading for the doors.

	"You can't tell me its ok!  It's sick!  It's against the bible!"  A man
shouted, his face crimson.  He was only inches away from another man,
slightly shorter and heavier.  "There is no right to be a homosexual!"

	The shorter man bellowed back in his face.  "It ain't your goddamn business
what they do!  It wasn't affecting you, Randal!  They was just on a hunting
trip.  No one has a right to kill anyone else, Nobody!"

	"They wouldn't a got hurt if they wasn't doing what they was doing and you
know it!"  The first man screamed back, grabbing the smaller man's jacket.
"You a gay lover, Gary?"

	"Hey!"  Dwight shouted over the noise of the crowd.  He was able to push
through the crowd and stood inches taller than most of the people there.  He
wedged himself in between the two would be combatants.  "What the hell's the
matter with you two?"  He rounded on Randal Jenks, the taller of the two
that he'd known for years.  "Jesus Christ, would you listen to yourself?"

	"I don't want to be anywhere near one of those gay lovers!"  Jenks snarled.
  "It's disgusting!  It's filthy!"

	"Does it justify murder?"  Gary Simmons, the shorter man shouted back.  "Is
it okay to kill because you feel like it?"

	"Enough!"  Dwight shouted them both down, glaring at both of them.  In the
distance they could hear sirens headed towards the shopping center.  He
turned and fixed Jenks with a disgusted glare.  "Randal, you've known Wayne
Yates since school.  If you're that goddamn stupid I don't want anything to
do with you."  He turned and glared at Simmons.  "What you think may or may
not be true to you, but you don't force others to buy bullshit when they
wanted alfalfa, Gary."  He looked out at the faces in the crowd.  "This what
we're about here?  Do we hang people we don't like just `cause we don't like
`em?"  His voice rose an octave.   "You all takin' the law into you own
hands now?  Do you even give a shit that one of our own was murdered?"  He
got back silence.  He shook his head.  "You people disgust me."  He hung his
head and jammed his hands in his pockets, walking back towards the truck.




	Tony lowered himself over the side of the tiled Jacuzzi and sighed as the
mineral water stung his skin slightly.  "Oh my God that's good."  He
breathed out and moved towards the center of the little round pool, sinking
to his neck.  "It's been way to long, man."

	Brock hung his towel over the rail and adjusted his suit.  The only light
around them was coming from the bottom of the small pool and the one next to
it, and steam rose from both in the cold night air.  It had just begun to
snow and he watched as it disappeared in the steam.  Brock loved to be here
when it was snowing.  He stepped into the water and carefully sat down,
moving so one of the jets hit his lower back.

	Tony slipped under the water and came up, pushing his hands back over his
head.  He grinned at Brock and pushed himself back onto the circular bench
across from him.  "Your face says it all, man.  You liking that are you?"

	"After all that hay, yeah I am."  He smiled and waved his arms through the
bubbles.  "The cold tonight was getting it hard to move."

	"You're way too young for the damage you've got."  Tony chuckled.  "Way too
many miles."

	"I know."  Brock closed his eyes and leaned his head back.  "Can I ask you
something?"

	"Yeah, what?"  Tony stretched his legs out and closed his eyes too.

	Brock looked at him, trying to put together what he wanted to say.  He'd
had his feelings running around his head for the last week and it was making
him crazy.  He was bad at saying how he felt, he knew that, but he had to
try.  It was like he was choking on it.  "What do you see happening between
you and me?"  He asked quietly.

	Tony opened his eyes, startled.  "Uh, I don't know.  I didn't really dare
push it.  You're kinda private about things."

	Brock sighed through his nose, frustrated.  "I don't know what to do.  I
never felt like this."

	Tony swallowed hard and felt his pulse quicken slightly.  "Felt like what,
Brock?  I'm not sure what you mean."

	Brock's face became unreadable.  He took several seconds to answer, slowly
waving his arms in the water.  "When I think about you I get a funny lump in
my throat.  It's like it's always been there.  When I, you know, kissed you
it was..."  He swallowed hard, his face burning.

	"Was what?"  Tony asked quietly.  He slipped to the center of the pool onto
his knees, the water coming to his chin.  "Brock, I can't read your mind.  I
kind of have an idea, but I don't."

	Brock nodded, fully aware that he didn't really express emotions much.  It
just wasn't the way things were.  His whole family was like that.  He rubbed
his face and pulled down on his cheeks, very uncomfortable.  "I know how
you, you know, feel about me.  I kinda feel like that, too."  He looked
away, embarrassed.  "I just don't know what words to use."

	"Brock, do you love me?"  Tony asked seriously, no hint of sarcasm in his
voice.

	"You know I do."  Brock said.

	"No."  Tony slowly moved towards him in the water and took Brock's hands.
"Do you love me?"  He looked intently into those ice chip blue eyes and
wouldn't let him look away this time.  Brock swallowed hard and nodded,
looking down.  "Brock, look at me, okay?"  He looked up and Tony reached out
and touched his cheek gently.  "Do you love me?"

	"Yeah, I do." Brock sounded almost like he was going to choke.  "It scares
the shit out of me.  I even dreamed about it.  A long time before all this
happened."  He felt his hands start shaking.  "I just thought I was goin' to
grow out of it but I didn't."

	Tony smiled slightly and gently pulled Brock forward onto his knees.  There
wasn't anyone else around, the place was nearly deserted, so he wasn't
worried about embarrassing Brock.  "So what are you going to do, cowboy?"
He noticed that Brock didn't resist at all.

	"I don't know what to do."  Brock looked away nervously.  He felt Tony's
hands in his again and laced his fingers through them.

	"You did pretty good the other morning."  Tony whispered, leaning forward a
little.  Brock did too, and their lips brushed together barely.  "Go with
what you feel, big guy."  Brock met Tony's eyes for the briefest of seconds
and then pressed forward.  They kissed very gently at first and then more
insistently, and Tony smiled inwardly as Brock's arms came up around his
sides.


	"Oh my God!"  Colleen wailed and pointed out the windshield of the truck.
Dwight had just climbed in and closed the door.  He looked back towards the
crowd and felt bile rise in his throat.  A fight had broken out, a big one.
He reached over and took his wife's hand and they watched helplessly as
violence erupted in the sleepy little town, violence like had never been
known before in this protected little area.


	Brock stretched out on the motel bed, his suit tossed in the corner, and
held out his hands to Tony as he climbed onto the mattress.  Their mouths
came together easily now, and Brock pulled him close, giving in to his
feelings.  The world had changed for him, and he knew what he needed.  It
was the most natural thing in the world.