Page 12 of Saddle Studs (Rainbow Ranch #3)
SAM
Benny’s truck rolled to a stop in a very familiar spot. I hadn’t even been paying attention to where Benny had been taking us. I’d been so wrapped up in telling him what happened that I completely missed the dirt roads leading us directly to one of our old haunts.
“No way, you brought us here?” I asked with surprise, looking out the window at the shaded trail cutting through a copse of cottonwood trees.
A streak of red paint on one of the trees marked the entrance to Bennam Creek—the only combination of our names that sounded good.
It was the most creative energy two fourteen-year-old boys could muster when they stumbled upon their own private little oasis.
“Uh… yeah. Sorry?”
I chuckled, unbuckled my seatbelt, and threw open the door. “Sorry about what? This is perfect.”
“Oh good,” he said, sounding relieved.
I stepped out into the warm air and sucked in a deep breath, filling my lungs. It smelled like wet grass and cedar and bushels of wildflowers. It smelled like the past.
“I haven’t been back here since you left,” Benny confessed. He stood at my side. The path trailed forward, curving into the trees and disappearing from sight.
Damn. He hadn’t been back since then? Benny used to love spending time here. I enjoyed it, and maybe even enjoyed it more because of how much Benny loved it, but I wasn’t as much of an outdoorsman as Benny was. After a while, the buzzing bugs and lack of a proper bathroom usually got to me.
“What if the creek’s dried up or something?” Benny asked.
“It’d better not be. I was hoping I could take a dip. Clean up after the sweaty morning.”
Benny shot me a look before he started walking forward. “Did you bring a bathing suit?”
“No, but I brought my birthday suit.”
Benny nearly tripped on… well, nothing. I glanced down to see that there wasn’t a single rock, twig, or hole near his foot.
I grinned and sped up so I could match Benny’s pace.
I was exhausted from the week but was finding a second wind hanging out with Benny.
The trail snaked toward the left and opened up, sunlight transforming the dirt trail into a gold-speckled road.
“So, you were going to ask me something,” I said. “Before I stole the show with my career failures.”
“Not failures, Sam, just road bumps.”
“More like road closures, but sure.” I chuckled and winked to reassure him that this was all in self-deprecating fun.
Talking to Benny on the drive here helped alleviate a lot of the bullshit that had been weighing me down, not just from the email, but from the entire situation.
I needed to vocalize how wild it all was, and how I could still turn things around after a few months to reset.
I didn’t kill anyone, I didn’t steal anything, I didn’t punch someone’s fragile old grandma.
I did deserve a second chance. I’d probably have to eat shit on the way back up to the top, but that was fine, so long as there was a chance for me to get over this mess.
“I don’t even remember my question,” Benny said. He sported a dark shadow of scruff around his jaw, a golden chain shining around his tan neck.
“You were going to ask me if I was… something?”
Benny chewed his bottom lip. “Oh yeah, now I remember.”
“And?” I asked as we continued down the trail. We were getting close to the creek. I could already hear the lazy babbling of the tranquil water.
“It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Really? Because with how red you’re getting, I don’t think it was nothing.”
“I’m not getting red.” He wasn’t. “Ugh, fine.” Before he could ask his question, we turned another corner and found ourselves at the famous and hidden Bennam Creek.
It was narrow, barely ten feet across, but it curved in a soft horseshoe bend where the water pooled even deeper—about waist high around that part, from what I remembered.
The current was lazy and silver in the late afternoon light, sprinkled with the fluttering wings of dozens of dragonflies.
Just before the creek was a fallen tree that leaned partway into the water.
It was covered in thick green moss and had a spot that appeared to be carved out to make the perfect bench.
It’s where Benny and I sat for hours on end, talking shit and fishing.
One weekend, later in high school, I’d gotten us a little baggy of weed that we took out here and smoked together.
“Just like old times,” Benny said, moving toward the fallen tree. I followed him. He sat on the cut-out groove, his feet still touching the ground. I remember when we’d first found this spot, when our feet dangled above the dirt.
“Your question?” I asked, now way more intrigued with whatever was on Benny’s mind. He wasn’t getting off my hook that easily.
“Right, question. I was just going to ask—and again, don’t answer if it’s invasive or anything—if you still consider yourself straight, or have you discovered other parts of yourself?”
Discovered other parts of myself… what a good way of putting it.
I leaned against the tree, looking at the ripples of light reflected on the slow-moving stream.
“Sorry. Like I said, you don’t have to answer.”
I shook my head, straightened my shoulders.
“Don’t apologize. It’s not that I don’t want to answer you.
It’s just that, I don’t know. I guess I can’t answer you.
Not right now.” A woodpecker drilled into a nearby tree, its beak carving out a rhythmic beat against the trunk.
“I guess, yes, I do consider myself straight. I’ve only ever had girlfriends, I not only enjoy them physically, but emotionally as well.
I’ve never felt the need to really explore anything else. ”
“Totally fair. I was just wondering.”
I looked up and spotted the woodpecker, its bright red hood flashing like a determined little hammer. “But that has been changing.”
“Oh?”
“Maybe not even changing. I can’t put it into words, but I think what you just said, exploring parts of myself, really makes sense to me.
Because there’s pieces of my being, of my wants and desires, that I’ve worked really fucking hard to ignore.
Like a map covered in fog. It’s not that I’m changing, or that I’m turning into someone different, but I’m discovering the unexplored parts of me. ”
Benny kicked a rock at his feet. It made a splash in the creek. “Exactly. I think a lot of people are scared to even acknowledge certain things. They just leave the map covered in fog. But how sad of a life is that? How much of life are those people missing out on?”
“I’m thinking quite a lot.”
“A hundred percent. Even me, who decided to stay here and make my life in Oklahoma, I’m still going to be damn sure I explore every inch of the map inside me.”
“Every inch, huh?” I asked, teasing him.
“Every single inch.” He shot me a wink. A lick of flame lapped at the base of my spine.
“I think coming back to Rainbow Ranch is going to help me with my own exploration,” I said. “This really all does feel like it was meant to be.”
“The ranch does have that kind of magic to it, doesn’t it?”
I nodded, smiling at the warmth blooming in my chest. “It always did. I thought I had to run away to find myself, but maybe all I had to do was come back home.”
Benny turned his head and looked at me. The sun made his skin glow.
God, I wanted to kiss that cowboy.
I broke the silence with words before I did it with actions. “Thanks for letting me talk through things with you today. It feels good. I’ve missed having your advice.”
Benny waved a dismissive hand in the air. “It’s nothing. I’ll send you an invoice later tonight.”
“Can you just dock it from my paycheck?”
“Oh, bless your heart. You’re not getting paid.”
My jaw dropped. “I’ve been working for free this entire week?!”
“Well, food and board.”
I arched a brow. “Do I get anything else?” My tone was suggestive.
Benny narrowed his gaze. He was trying to figure out where I was headed with this. Good. I loved keeping him on his toes. He cocked his head and smirked.
“Not even healthcare benefits.”
I blinked a couple of times before cracking up.
“Damn, it’s rough out here.” I turned and looked at the crystal-clear water flowing over a bed of multicolored rocks.
It looked so peaceful, but beyond that, it also looked refreshing as fuck.
I realized how dirty my pants were, how damp my shirt was, how rough my hands looked.
Maybe it was time for a little break…
I grabbed the hem of my shirt and started to pull it up over my head.
“What are ya doing?” Benny asked.
I hung my shirt off a branch from the fallen tree. “Going for a dip,” I said, undoing the button on my shorts and pulling down the zipper. “You joining or just watching?”