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I'd reached the second floor before I heard boots descending from above. I hurried on down thinking I'd made a good break, but as I stepped out the front door I heard a man's voice call out, "Wait up, Cousin Jack."

I stopped at the top of the veranda steps and waited to see what he wanted. Cass trotted up and stopped in front of me. "Know where a man can find a stiff drink?"

I studied him a moment before answering. "Sure, I could do with one myself."

We walked back inside and I led him to the den where we had a full service bar. It was kept locked to keep the young ones out, but I'd had a key since the day I turned 21; a gift from Gran and another thing my stepdad objected to. Cass kept glancing at me and I tried not to look back at him. I was feeling things I shouldn't be.

"Karin's your aunt?"

"Yeah."

"What's with the niece thing?"

"Just her sick humor."

He bucked his head, obviously aware of her sense of humor. I motioned him to a barstool and asked him what he wanted to drink.

He looked at the selection on the mirrored back bar. "A shot of Old Turkey straight up."

I nodded, poured his drink and grabbed a Corona out of the fridge for myself.

"That's no stiff drink," Cass protested.

"Stiff as it gets." I said, not intending any double entendre.

He raised an eyebrow and lifted his shot glass. "I knew you existed. I just never dreamed of meeting you like this. Here's to newly discovered cousins."

I clinked my bottle against his glass and took a swig. I then raised my bottle in toast, saying, "And here's to my future uncle who I had no idea existed."

He looked at me blank-faced.

I grinned and said, "That's you."

"What the fuck are you saying? I have no intention of becoming your uncle."

"Are you breaking your engagement?"

He looked at me like I'd lost my mind.

"Karny isn't your fiancée?" I asked.

"Fiancée?" He almost squealed. "Is that what she's been telling y'all - that I'm engaged to that mad woman?" I was amused at how incredulous Cass was.

Come to think of it, I couldn't remember where I'd heard that Karny was engaged. I had heard it though, I didn't make it up. I swear I didn't. I must have overheard my female cousins gossiping.

"I may be crazy as she is, but hell, I ain't stupid," he said.

I couldn't help but grin at his vehemence. It restored some of my faith in the intelligence of mankind. "So . . . I guess that means we can be friends," I said.

He clapped a hand on my shoulder. My whole body did a short circuit . . . I knew he was saying something but it wasn't coming through. I hadn't had that kind of reaction to another man in . . . well, since I was a senior in high school. That's what - nine years ago? Had it really been that long? I don't think there's been one day in all that time that I hadn't thought about Sammy. My thoughts were brought back to the moment by Cass calling out, "Jack . . . Jack." I focused my eyes on him as he asked if I was okay.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"You sort of… went away there for a moment."

"Oh," I responded. "I was just wondering about my dad. Have you ever met him?"'

"Hell, yes. I think the last time I saw him was three years ago when he came home for granddad's funeral."

I bucked my head and turned away so he couldn't see the hurt in my eyes.

"You've not seen him since your mother divorced him, have you?" He asked in a hushed voice.

"Mom regularly got monthly support checks from him until I turned eighteen. Gran told me that he went back to Europe, married a fraulein and brought her back over here. That's all I've ever heard about him, except Gran saying he was a wonderful man."

"He is, Jack. He's my favorite uncle. You'd really like him. I could help you get in touch with him if you wa . . ."

I interrupted him. "Listen, Cass, I'm sorry to run out on you like this, but I've got to take care of some things for tomorrow. You're coming to the family picnic, aren't you?"

He stared at me a moment, then said, "Sure, I'm Karny's prisoner for the weekend."

"Well, you're family . . . even if you're not marrying into it."

"Speaking of Karny . . . I guess I should get back up there and socialize since I'm her guest."

"Visit with Gran. She worshiped my dad."

We parted company back at the foot of the stairs with a promise to see each other on the morrow. I sought the privacy of my room in the bunkhouse to brood and think about the possibility of getting to meet my real dad. What was the point? He obviously didn't care about me. I put all thoughts of him out of my mind and turned my thoughts to Sammy, the other man in my life that didn't seem to care enough about me to seek me.

* * *

I'd spent the first four of the last nine years getting an education at New Mexico A&M in Las Cruces. Most of my family thought of me as a traitor for not going to school in Texas. I'd been to East Texas and didn't like the weather or the flatness of the country. Besides, Las Cruces was closer and there were those fantastic, jagged Organ Mountains right there. And… besides all that, Sammy had gone to Texas A&M, so I damned sure couldn't go there.

Sammy's family has a fine large spread down by Bakersfield. The southern edge of our ranch borders theirs. Our main spread is over by Pecos, but the family prefers to live down here on the Girvin ranch.

I know Sammy keeps up with me, because I do the same with him. We both buy our feed from the same supplier over in McCamey. Every time I go in there old man Jarvis tells me Sammy's been inquiring about me. I'm sure he does the same with Sammy; telling him I'd inquired about him.

Even while I was in college I kept tabs on him. It was mostly my female cousins that kept me up to date on him since we didn't write or talk to each other after that night down in Big Bend, but I always knew what was going on in his life. I guess that makes me some kind of long distance stalker, doesn't it?

Sammy had gotten married about the time he graduated from college. I'd actually received a wedding invitation that I'm sure his mother sent. He had a kid right away - a little boy. His wife had grown up in Houston and couldn't take living so isolated on a ranch out in the middle of West Texas and Sammy wasn't about to live in the city. Besides, his parents were getting on in age and there was no one else to take care of them since Sammy was an only child. When his wife filed for divorce it was in the local county court. Since the judge was a rancher, he couldn't see letting the boy grow up in the big city without a daddy, so she lost custody of the boy.

* * *

Mom married my stepdad a couple of years after she'd divorced my dad. She was still working as a waitress at Percy's Café when this cowboy came in for a late breakfast. A week later they were married, and a month after that we'd moved down to live on the ranch where my stepdad went to work for my granddad as his foreman. He completely took over running the Stockton family ranch in Girvin when my granddad's health started failing

* * *

When I started school, the big yellow school bus would pick up me and a couple of ranch hand kids at the cattle guard on the edge of the highway, then pick up Sammy on down the road a few miles on route 11 right outside of Bakersfield. The bus made a big V starting out at Girvin, heading south on State Highway 11, picking up kids along the way. At Bakersfield it would head up route 1901 to McCamey where the county schools were. It was about a forty-five minute ride for me. In the afternoon the bus went the opposite direction, ending up back at Girvin.

* * *

Sammy and I had an affinity for each other from the first day of school - always best buddies. By the time we were in the third grade, our mom's had gotten acquainted and become good friends. Sammy's mom was much older than mine, but she wasn't as old as Gran. She and Gran had been friends for many years.

One of the best recreational things to do on a ranch besides riding horses is swimming in the watering tanks. These big circular concrete tanks are about ten to fifteen feet across and usually about eight feet deep. There's always a windmill next to it pumping water to keep it full. On our Girvin spread alone there are six tanks, but then it's a large spread. Mom was always ready most Saturday afternoons to take us bunch of heathens, my stepdad's name for us, out to one of the tanks for the afternoon. I had only two brothers when we first started doing this. Josh was just starting to school the next fall and Dwayne was around three. Donny was in the oven - another of my stepdad's expressions.

* * *

Sammy got his first pickup on his sixteenth birthday. The next year on my seventeenth, Gran gave me Grandad's old Dodge pickup. It was over my stepdad's protestations that it was needed for use on the ranch. Gran settled him real quick by buying a brand new, bright red Dodge pickup and had 'Stockton Ranch' painted on the door with our brand, the Rocking S, under it, and Girvin, Texas under that. He still wanted to use my ol' pickup to do the hauling and stuff. Gran suggested we trade - that shut him up real fast.

A couple of months before Josh, my oldest brother, turned sixteen my stepdad bought him a fairly new used Chevy pickup. We Stocktons are Dodge people. I'm sure he bought a Chevy just to get back at Gran. I was already in college by then, so it didn't hurt as much as if I'd been younger. But that was one of the biggest examples of what he thought of me. I suspect that between my mom and Gran he's been made to regret having done it.

I must inject here something about my sibs. They have always looked upon me as their 'full' brother. Mom made sure that they each bonded with me as tiny babies. I did a lot of holding babies, feeding them their bottles - even changing diapers. That bond has kept us close through the years. After Josh got the pickup he wrote me apologizing for what his dad had done and offered to trade with me. I'm sure he'd have done it, but I just thanked him for his offer and told him I liked my ol' pickup just fine. I'd gotten it repainted and new upholstery on the seat. It looked pretty cool.

* * *

Two mistakes were made concerning me and my stepdad right after my mother married him. First, since I was only two years old and he handled his two hounds more gently than he did me, my mother prohibited him from taking me out on a horse. He scoffed and said Mom was trying to make me into a girly boy. Then when I was around six, Gran commented in front of him that I looked so much like my real daddy. After that he had even less to do with me.

He was always real gentle with Josh. As soon as he could walk he would take him horseback riding, holding him on the front of the saddle. He'd put me behind telling me to hold on. I don't think he would have cared if I'd fallen off and I suspect the SOB would have laughed if I had.

Gran, who kept an active hand in running the ranch, got ol' Pete, who'd worked on the ranch since he was a young man, to teach me how to ride, rope, and all the other things a cowboy does, since the SOB wouldn't treat me like his own kid.

By the time I was twelve, I was spending a lot of time down on the Bowden's ranch with Sammy where his dad spent many hours working with us, teaching us and practicing with us. By the time we were fifteen, he entered us in a local rodeo and we placed first in our age group in roping and tying up calves. Gran set my trophy in the center of the living room mantle. I'm sure it still irks my stepdad to no end.

* * *

Sammy and I were both jocks and played football and baseball all through high school. We'd had sleepovers since we were ten. Once Sammy got a pickup, he and I spent a lot of time by ourselves. We did a lot of playing around, ass grabbing, watching each other beat off - things like that - but we never sexually touched each other until that fateful late May night in Big Bend on our high school senior trip.

* * *

Big Bend National Park is beautifully wild and really rugged. We'd reserved an entire campground for the weekend. There were twenty-four seniors and ten parent/supervisors. We slept in two-man pup tents. Sammy and I chose to share one.

The pup tent was small - barely big enough for our two sleeping bags. It was a warm night. The canyon walls held in the heat. We slept in our undershorts on top of our sleeping bags. Sometime in the middle of the night I woke up with Sammy's hand stroking my chest. Soon as I realize what was going on, I quickly reciprocated. Next thing I knew, he was laying on top of me, rubbing his hard rod against mine. I'd never felt anything as wonderful as his hard body and his hard shaft slipping and sliding next to mine. I grabbed hold of his butt cheeks and pulled him snuggly against me, enjoying sensations I'd never before experienced. Then he kissed me right on my lips - tongue and all. I responded with gusto.

I'd known for a couple of years that I was probably a homo and that Sammy was the one I was interested in. I thought I'd hidden it well, but Sammy must've figured me out and that's why he did it. With the kissing I quickly lost my load, which triggered Sammy's. He collapsed on me and we held each other until we got our breath back, then he rolled off me onto his back. I used my t-shirt to clean us up, then Sammy turned on his side facing away from me, I laid a hand on his shoulder and he shrugged it off. Feeling like I'd been used, I lay there 'til I thought he was asleep, then quietly slipped on my jeans, gathered my bedroll and clothes, and wandered off down by the river where I sat down and bawled until I fell asleep.

Next morning I woke up to everyone yelling my name. When asked why I'd gone off to sleep down by the river, I just told them that it was too hot in the tent and it was much cooler down there. Sammy wouldn't look at me, much less speak to me. When someone asked if we'd had a fight, I just said he was pissed 'cause I didn't wake him to join me. I was thankful there were only two weeks left before graduation. It was awful having Sammy ignoring my existence every day. I felt it was my fault and that it wouldn't have happened if I weren't queer. It wasn't until years later that I figured out that my being homo had nothing to do with what Sammy did that night.