---

Looking rather cavalier with his right eye and the side of his head in bandages, tape crisscrossing his nose, and his arm in a sling to protect his crushed hand, Neal, clean-shaven and his short hair neatly combed, sat at his customary table in the back of the old storefront café dressed in his customary starched and pressed white dress shirt, clean, sharply creased Levi's and polished black shoes. With his books stacked on a chair next to him, a newspaper spread out on the table, and a cup of black coffee near his left hand, he trailed a finger down the sparse column of the want ads. He paused to take another swallow of the strong brew. Betsy appeared at his side.

"More coffee, Neal? How're you feeling?"

"Thanks, Bets. I'm fine." His was voice tinny from the cotton stuffing in his nose. He held his cup up for her to refill it.

Betsy was a vivacious auburn haired young woman with green Irish eyes that danced with intelligence and mischief. She had done her rebelling and asserted her independence, ending up at U.C. San Patricio. Although she didn't need to, she chose to work.

Even though Betsy didn't agree with the Viet Nam war, she staunchly felt that a good American should support his country's government. She was not very popular with much of the male campus population having publicly stated that if she were a male, she would certainly go fight if she were drafted. When the owner of the café discovered the hippie crowd that hung out at the café wasn't tipping her, he raised the prices and gave her ten percent.

"Any luck?" she asked, returning to Neal's table after delivering an order of food to one of the booths.

"There is one… a tutor/companion for three kids."

"You're smart enough to do that," Betsy said with a big grin before wandering toward the front of the café with the coffee pot, offering refills.

Neal was aware that his three older brothers, two were Army and one a Marine, sent their mother most of their monthly income. He was also aware (although his brothers weren't, and his mother had made him promise not to tell them) that she deposited each of their checks into individual savings accounts for them. She was a nurse and had worked hard for many years supporting her four sons. They'd all had part time jobs through their high school years. The two oldest, after graduating had taken full time jobs to help their mother with the two younger boys. Then came the Viet Nam war, so when Neal's youngest brother graduated the three of them joined the service, leaving Neal to finish his education.

Even though his mother made good money and had been more than willing to put Neal through college, he didn't feel it was right to let her support him after he turned eighteen.

Neal thought about the ad while he sipped his coffee. While his scholarship paid for his schooling, he had to find a job to pay for his books, rent and food each year. This semester he'd as of yet been unsuccessful. Being frugal by nature, he had a small savings that he'd been living on. Now with one hand in a cast for the next two months, it was going to be even more difficult.

Betsy came back to his table wiping her hands on her apron and sat down. "Seriously, Neal, this is just the thing for you. It's something you can easily do with one eye and one hand. Read it to me."

It was obvious that his glare wasn't going to affect her, so he traced back up the page, stopping at the ad. "Wanted. A mature young person to be a companion/tutor to my three children, ages 17 and 14. After school and evenings. Weekends free. Salary generous. Live in. Room and board included. Apply in person."

"Free room and board, too," Betsy reiterated.

He looked up at Betsy apprehensively. "It sounds too good to be true."

"It sure does. Let me see. Where is it?" Betsy pulled the paper from under Neal's elbows. "San Leandro Rd. The Old Oaks Ranch. Oh, that's Mr. Ogden. You've seen him. Tall, blonde, handsome man… fortyish. Go check it out."

Neal ignored her description. "But, jeez, it's way out in the country."

"Oh, that's not even ten miles from here. The way you drive, that's not even an eight minute drive. You'll like Mr. Ogden."

"I don't recall ever seeing him."

"Sure, you do. Last Monday he had lunch here. He sat at that table, with his back to the window. He was sitting there watching you."

He looked where she pointed. The person now sitting at that table was in silhouette. But as he thought about it, he vaguely remembered thinking it odd, as he approached the café door, seeing a business man sitting in the window reading a newspaper. Then he realized it had been the same man he'd seen sitting with the sheriff in back of the room the day he went to identify his attacker.

"You know, he asked me who you are."

"He was watching me and asked my name?"

Betsy realized she had said too much and hoped Neal would let it pass. "He's on the board of trustees at the university, and he owns Ogden Enterprises. They recruit a lot of the top seniors from this school. Do you know what Ogden Enterprises does?" She asked.

"Not exactly. I know they've got manufacturing plants all over the western states, and they work on a lot of government projects. I interviewed with them at the last two job fairs, and filled out an application for employment."

"He's obviously wealthy; he should pay well," she said.

* * *

A woman with a Mexican accent answered when Neal called for an appointment. "May I have your name, please?" she asked.

"Neal Martin."

"Oh, Mr. Martin. Si, Señor Ogden will be back at three o'clock. You come then to see him."

Not being accustomed to driving with just one eye and one hand, he drove his old pickup slowly out San Leandro Road. He turned off onto a graveled road winding through golden grass covered hills, dotted with large green live oaks. A small valley spread out before him. A long low hacienda-style ranch house with a red tile roof and whitewashed adobe walls lolled in the middle of it, shaded by a huge old oak surrounded by a green lawn and colorful flowerbeds.

He lifted the heavy iron knocker on the big ancient oak door and dropped it a couple of times. It was two-thirty, he was early. A small heavyset elderly Mexican lady swung the door open.

"Buenos tardes, Señor Martin. Ay, Dios mio, what happened to you? Pasa le, come in."

"I ran into a brick wall.

"And this brick wall, is it okay?" she asked, tittering. Neal chuckled, instantly liking her.

A furiously barking, sleek German Shepherd came bounding in. Maria attempted to grab the dog, but it slipped by her and leaped on Neal nearly knocking him off his feet. He grabbed the dog around her chest with his uninjured arm, hugging her to him as he tried to dodge the long wet tongue being wiped up the side of his face, and sat down on the floor with the big dog in his lap. He grabbed her by an ear and kissed her on her nose and told her that she was beautiful as she eagerly attempted to wash his face.

Maria was stunned. Everyone was supposed to be afraid of German Shepherds and here this young man was playfully wrestling with her. It took Maria a moment to react. "Fireball, get off the man." She grasped the dog's collar and pulled her off Neal, scolding. "What kind of watchdog are you? I answer the door before you even think to bark." Neal got to his feet and straightened his clothes. "She didn't hurt you, did she?" Maria asked while hanging onto the eagerly lunging Fireball.

"Not at all, I love animals," Neal said, scratching the dog behind her ears.

"And this one loves you. We are so glad you are finally here. Buzzy is out riding. He will be back soon. I am sorry you have to wait, but then... you are early. Come," she said leading the way while hanging onto the dog's collar until it was apparent the dog was going to run out the kitchen door, then she let her go. "Sit outside. Los quates are out here, too." She led Neal through the biggest living room he had ever seen, through the kitchen, and out to a large vine covered patio. Beyond the patio a couple of hundred yards he could see a big old gray weathered barn and corral.

"Dori, Timmy, this is Neal. He is going to be your new tutor."

The pronouncement momentarily stunned him. Neal smiled at the young girl and boy sitting at a table doing homework beside an Olympic size pool next to the patio. They didn't look like twins. Timmy was blonde and curly headed, and much bigger than his petite little sister. She also had blonde hair, it was wavy, but not the least bit curly. Still, Maria had called them 'the twins.'

"Hi, guys," he said.

"Hello," they responded in unison. They both looked him over.

"What happened to you?" Dori asked.

"Uh… I just knocked down a brick wall."

"Next time use your butt instead of your head. Won't do as much damage to you." Tim said, laughing at his own joke.

Neal laughed with him. Dori giggled as she slapped Tim's hand and scolded him. Neal sat down at the table. Fireball bounded over and with her front paws on Neal's lap, again attacked his face with her wet tongue. Tim pulled at her collar and told her to sit. Fireball ignored him. Neal pushed her off his lap and with a hand pressing down on her rump, told her to sit. She did, wagging her tail and looking up at him. "Good girl," he said and patted her head, then turned back to the two teenagers. "Which of you is older?"

"I'm older by 23 minutes." Dori grinned at him.

Neal smiled and nodded.

"We have a brother, too," Dori said. "Billy's seventeen. He's still at school. He has his own car. He was supposed to be here to meet you, too, but he's rebellious."

Maria scurried out of the kitchen. "He is coming."

Fireball bounced around barking, excited by Maria's raised voice, and then seeing Buzz approaching on horseback, bounded out the gate to greet him. She bounced around, circling the trotting horse.

Neal couldn't help but stare when he turned in his chair to see a man riding tall in the saddle, dressed in Levi's, cowboy boots, and a blue chambray work shirt with sleeves rolled above his elbows. He couldn't see the man's face in the bright afternoon sun; his sweat-stained western hat, pulled low over his eyes cast too dark a shadow. He felt his pulse quicken.

Chapter

Buzz had been at the office when Maria called to tell him of the appointment at three. Feeling the tension - the anticipation - building to the point he couldn't concentrate on his work, he finally told Martha he would be taking the rest of the day off and went home.

There was nothing to occupy his time around the house, so he decided to go horseback riding. That always relaxed him. He rode over to a beautiful little valley where there was a spring fed pond. Beside the pond there was an old cottonwood tree whose trunk lay horizontally for about eight feet before reaching towards the sky. Buzz loved to lie on the trunk and daydream. As three o'clock neared, he began to feel antsy again and headed back.

As he approached the house, he saw Neal sitting at the table with his young ones. When Neal stood up, Buzz's breath caught. Seeing his bandaged face, he again felt a stir of fury at the goon who had hurt him. He promised himself that he would do everything possible to make the man pay for hurting this beautiful young man.

"Señor Buzzy, este joven is here to see you," Maria announced.

Buzz dismounted and tied his horse to a post. As he strode toward Neal, he whipped off his old sweat stained felt hat with his left hand, slapping at the dog with it, and held out his right to shake. His stomach did a flip-flop as he gazed into the intense grey eye looking back at him. Noticing the greenish-yellow bruising around the bandaged eye, he said, "Damn, I didn't expect you to look this bad."

Neal paid no attention to what Buzz had said, nor the little niggle in the back of his mind that this was a set up. He wondered how he could have walked by this man, or have been in the same room with him without feeling the strong draw to him. The man's liquid brown eyes looked at him with concern. He felt clumsy trying to grasp the tanned calloused hand with his left hand. His heart was in his throat. When Buzz realized that Neal had to use his left hand, he grasped it in both of his. Neal felt the warmth flow from his hand though his whole body. He wondered if he was blushing,

"What can I do for you?"

Buzz's warm baritone voice resonated through Neal's body. He barely remembered to answer. He wanted to reach up and comb his fingers through the sandy golden hair hanging over Buzz's forehead and touch the lips that were speaking to him. He knew for sure that he'd blushed, when he wondered if the neatly trimmed moustache would tickle."I'm here to apply for the… uhhh… tutoring job, Sir."

"Oh, really? And what qualifies you for the position, Young Man?" The question was more for Maria, who stood watching this meeting with great interest. Buzz forced himself to let go of Neal's hand.

"Well, Sir," Neal said, as he held his hand up before his face and studied it as if he had never seen it before, "even though, I'm the youngest of four boys." He dropped his hand to his side, looked into Buzz's eyes and lost his train of thought. "I---I always---ah---helped my older brothers with their schoolwork. They made good grades." Neal's brain was mush. 'What's wrong with me? Jeez, I didn't even mention that I was at the top of my class all through grade school and high school. Even now in college, I expect to be summa cum laud.'

Buzz felt he had to do something to get Neal to relax. The young fellow looked like a startled rabbit ready to flee at any moment.

"Come, keep me company while I take care of my horse," he said, as he turned and strode back through the gate. Picking up the reins, he led the horse towards the corral, aware of Neal following.

Neal trotted along behind him; mesmerized by the movement of the muscular Levi covered buns in front of him.

"Do you like horses?" Buzz asked, taking the saddle off the magnificent animal.

"They are beautiful animals. I've never been this close to one before."

"Go ahead. Pet him."

As Neal patted its shoulder, the horse turned his head and snorted, smelling him. Before Buzz realized what was happening, Neal had his arm around the horse's head rubbing his cheek against the horse's cheek, as he scratched its ears. Buzz had been the only one that the high-strung stallion had ever allowed to be familiar with him. Seeing how the horse reacted to Neal, Buzz's infatuation began to turn into full-fledged love. He watched how it nudged Neal to get more attention.

He retrieved the currycomb. "Would you like to brush him down?"

Neal's face lit up. "May I?"

Buzz stood aside with his muscular arms folded across his chest, studying Neal as he curried the horse with his uninjured left hand. He had to step up on a box to reach the horses back and the top of its rump. The ripple of sinuous muscles under Neal's shirt mesmerized Buzz. 'My god, he's so beautiful.'

"I love animals," Neal said. He patted the horse's rump when he finished. He handed the brush to Buzz and dusted off his white shirt. "What's his name?"

"Stardust," Buzz muttered, then cleared his throat as he brought his mind back to the moment. "His name's Stardust."

Neal rubbed his forehead against the horse's head. "You're magnificent, Stardust."

In response the horse snorted and nodded his head as if to say, "You're right."

"I'd love to learn to ride a beautiful beast like this," Neal said. Turning, he found himself speaking directly to the abundant golden chest hair sticking out of Buzz' open collar. Neal breathed in deeply.

Buzz's hopes soared as he realized Neal was taking in his scent. He wanted to take Neal into his arms and fought to keep his hands at his side "You would? I could teach you."

Neal broke his thrall, shaking his head to clear it, he said, stepping away from him, "But I need a job to continue my education."

Flustered, Buzz grabbed up the reins and led the horse into the corral. Removing the bridle, he swatted the horse on his rump as he freed him. He watched the horse trot across the corral to the watering trough while he regained his composure before he turned back to Neal. "Let's go discuss your job."

Buzz couldn't keep from touching Neal as they walked toward the house. He placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder as he asked him how school was going. Neal could only concentrate on the hot hand on his shoulder and the feelings coursing though his body, he was sure he was blushing again. He was glad that he wore snug fitting Jockeys to hide his tumescence. "Fine," he answered.

Buzz's young ones turned to watch the two men walking towards them. Dori leaned towards Timmy and whispered, "I think he's so handsome." Tim agreed, but didn't answer.

As they approached the patio, Buzz called out, "Dori, Tim, come over and meet…" dissembling, he asked, "what did you say your name is again?" His hand moved to the back of Neal's neck.

The contact with his bare skin shorted out Neal's thinking capacity. No one seemed to take notice of it. "I-I didn't, Sir, it's… Neal… uh… Neal Martin"

Buzz's hand left his neck as he gathered his two young ones to his side. "Well, Neal, this is Doreen." He placed his hand on his daughter's head. "And this young man is Timothy," he said, placing his other hand on his son's head.

They stepped forward and solemnly shook his hand, grinned at each other, then looking back at him and said in unison, "Nice to meet you again, Neal." Tim winked.

"It's nice to meet both of you again." Buzz's hand was back on Neal's bare neck, frying his brain. He couldn't quit grinning. He'd never smoked weed, but he'd seen the rictus smile effect on others that had. He wondered if this was how they felt.

"And I'm Buzz Ogden."

Neal just grinned up at him.

"And this beautiful young lady is Maria. Maria has been my nanny all my life. She is my mamacita. I don't know what I would do without her."

Maria offered her hand to Neal. "Bien venido, Neal, I am pleased to meet you." She looked up at Buzz, happy he was acting like his old self again and said, "Buzzy, you make me embarrassed talking that way in front of this guapo young man."

Buzz grinned at her scolding; he knew it delighted her for him to say such things.

"What do you think? Would you like this young man to be your tutor?" Buzz asked his young ones.

Dori giggled and Tim grinned, then they looked serious.

"We think he might work out," Dori smiled shyly and ducked her head.

Timmy boldly grinned at Neal, looked him up and down. "Yeah, Dad, he just might do."

Their dad shook his head and smiled at their answer.

"Neal, let's go into my office."

Neal followed Buzz through the house, mesmerized by his faint heady masculine scent - a clean male sweat mixed with the smell of soap and leather - awakening reactions in him that he had never experienced before; it glazed his mind, and unfocused his eyes, leaving him light headed, dizzy, intoxicated.

Buzz, his every nerve aware of the young man behind him, opened the office door and stepped aside to let Neal enter. Neal stumbled on the edge of the thick oriental carpet and fell forward grazing his forehead on the back of the big hand-carved Spanish armchair before Buzz could catch him.

Buzz knelt beside him, turned him over, supporting him with an arm around his shoulders as he examined his head. There was a small gash on the edge of his hairline oozing blood. It looked like there was going to be a big bruise, too. Alongside the concern, he was filled with tenderness and joy just holding this young man in his arms.

Neal groaned, bringing Buzz back to the reality of the situation. Opening his unbandaged eye, his thoughts fuzzy, Neal gazed at Buzz, content to be where he was. But when he realized exactly where he was, he sat up too fast, sending his head spinning. He groaned and fell back into Buzz's arms. Buzz gently laid him back onto the carpet, ordering him not to move, and went to get a wet cloth and bandages.

When Buzz came rushing back in with Maria following right behind him, they found Neal on his side supporting his upper body on his elbow. Buzz picked him up and gently sat down on the old leather sofa with him on his lap. Maria quickly grabbed a cushion and slid it under his head. Neal lay back with his eye closed. There was a tympani drum ferociously pounding inside his head. He tried to not think about where he was.

"They don't know yet if he will be able to see with that eye. God, I hope he is going to be okay." Buzz told Maria.

"Ay, que pobre joven. Oh, Buzz, he is tan guapo."

"De veras, Mamacita."

Maria cleaned the wound and dressed it. Buzz lifted him into a sitting position holding him up so she could wrap gauze around his head to hold the bandage in place.

"Tan precioso, como un angel, que no?" she said, as she taped down the end.

"Si. Un angel precioso," he whispered in agreement.

Neal was groggy, but coherent. He understood what was being said, but gave no indication. Maria put two aspirin in his hand, and made him swallow them with a glass of water. She took the glass, gathered the mess left from the bandaging and left.

Neal felt so comfortable and secure lying in this man's arms. A cold shiver coursed though him. He sat up and moved away from Buzz. Buzz stood up and looked down at him, filled with a longing to take Neal back in his arms and protect him.

"You're going to be okay now." Buzz said, squeezing his shoulder.

Neal looked up at him, overwhelmed by his thoughts and emotions. Never had another human being affected him this way. He knew he would do anything this man asked of him, and yet he felt like he should get up and run as fast and as far from him as he could.

"Mister Ogden, I don't think I should take this job," he muttered.

"Nonsense, of course you should. My young ones like you. Maria has fallen in love with you. And I think you're perfect… uh… for the job. I've made the decision, so whatever problem you're having, we'll figure it out and fix it."

Neal cleared his throat and dropped his head. He'd never felt submissive like this and hated it. He was ready to revolt and head out the door when Buzz spoke again. His voice had lost its commanding tone.

"You know, I went to UCSP, too. For a year, and then transferred to UCLA when they drafted me to be their first line quarterback."

Neal looked up at him, relieved. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, I met Claire, my wife, there."

Neal's heart hit the bottom of his belly. He hadn't even thought about this man's wife. How dumb was that? With three kids even. Of course he had to have a wife. "I haven't met her yet."

"She's dead." Buzz turned toward the window to hide his emotions. For a moment, he was glad that Claire was out of his life, leaving room to bring Neal into it. The thought made him feel extremely guilty for about two seconds before he pushed the guilt away and straightened his thinking.

"Oh." Neal's heart soared, but seeing Buzz's sad demeanor, he said. "I… I'm sorry."

"Yes, well… that was two years ago," he said, turning back to Neal. Buzz sat down behind the huge old oak partner's desk that his parents had once shared.

"So tell me about yourself, Neal."

Neal felt a little bit more on an even keel with the mention of a wife, even if she was dead. The man was straight so he simply had to stop perving on him. "Well, I'm twenty two. I grew up in Ventura. I have three older brothers. My mom raised us. My dad was killed on an oilrig when I was seven. My mom never remarried. She said no one could ever replace my dad. I graduated valedictorian from high school. This is my fourth year here, at UCSP. I graduate in June." He paused wondering what else he should say.

"And what are your plans for your future?" Buzz asked.

"I think I'll have to work for a couple of years. Then I'd like to go back and get my master's degree."

Buzz knew all of this, having studied the dossier that he'd had compiled, but he wasn't ready to reveal that fact to Neal. He also knew that Neal was at the top of his class, and he'd refused to take a cent from his mother toward his schooling.

He stood up and walked around behind Neal's chair. "Have you considered working for OE when you graduate?"

Neal craned his neck to look up at him with his one good eye. "Yes, Sir, I spoke with your representative at the job fair my sophomore year and again this spring. I also filled out an application for employment."

"I see. Well, if you work out here, I'll put in a good word for you." He grinned at his little joke. "Now," he paused, then sauntered around the room as he spoke. "This is what I'd like to offer you. As a tutor for my young ones you will really be more of a companion for them, although they do need to get their grades back up. They're all three very intelligent, but they've been in a funk since their mother died. Maybe you can bring them out of it. I think you may have a problem with Billy. He has become rather hostile. He idolized his mother and has always just abided me."

Buzz stepped around in front of him, sat on the edge of the desk and crossed his ankles. Neal couldn't take his eyes off the shiny metal button just below Buzz's belt buckle. 'I wonder if he left it unbuttoned to attract my attention. No, I'm sure he just missed buttoning it.'

"I'm offering you $1500 a month to do this."

Neal blushed and raised his eyes as he forced his mind to focus on what Buzz had just said. When it registered, his mouth dropped open. He shut it quickly. That was three times what he expected. He looked at Buzz, who smiled. He tried to sputter a protest, but Buzz held up his hand. "You'll be here with my young ones every evening until their bedtime. You'll have Saturday and Sunday off, except the times I'm away on business. You'll have your own bedroom. And you'll share meals with the family. Is that agreeable?"

Neal nodded, not trusting his voice.

"Great! You can start tomorrow… if you will. I know it's Saturday, but that will give you time to settle in and get acquainted. Sound good?"

"Jeez, Mr. Ogden, I don't know what to say."

"Please, Neal, call me Buzz. I need you to do this. My children need your guidance. Will you accept?"

Neal could only nod.

"Great. Since we agree, go get packed and I'll see you back here tomorrow," he said, not giving Neal a chance to back out. Buzz stood and gave Neal a one armed hug. Neal had to fight the urge to lean into it. He rushed for the door.

It was only four-fifteen when he stepped out the front door of Buzz's home. It seemed that a lifetime had passed since he had stepped into the house behind him. His world had spun out of his control; the course of his life had changed. He didn't realize yet just how drastically. He pulled his shattered thoughts together as he drove away from the ranch and remembered he had an appointment to get his eye checked at five.

* * *

"Alright, I'll see you on Monday," the doctor admonished after examining Neal's eye and other than finding a small hematoma, pronounced his eye okay. "Try to be kind to your poor skull. It shouldn't have to take so much abuse."

Neal blushed, ducked his head and said, "I'll try, Sir."