Disclaimer: This is an Adam's Gay Reader pulp story (#236) written by Kurt McCord. There is no copyright on it, so I wanted to share it with others before it gets lost forever. I have only corrected spelling and punctuation errors.
This story is set in the past and includes sex between adult males of different races and between related men. If this is unappealing or illegal in your location, please do not read this story.
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Chapter 11: Victory
Sometime during the night, I awoke to a strange sound. At first, I could not place it. Then I realized the sound of the storm was gone. No longer were the howling winds blasting the cabin. I could hear the sound of dripping water. At first, it didn't make sense. Why water? In a moment, I knew what at happened. A chinook wind had come up.
It isn't rare in this country. We can have a bitter storm and then overnight everything changes. The storm is followed by a warm wind. The snow which had covered everything is melted and turns into running water. I heard dripping from the roof. I snuggled close to Solomon and drifted back to sleep.
When I awoke again, Solomon was gone. I was surprised, wondered where he had gone. Then I heard him stamping the melting snow from his feet as he came in from the lean-to where he had put the mare to protect her from the storm.
I sat up in bed. "Is she alright?"
"The mare is fine," he replied, "Ready to go. You can ride out anytime."
"I guess I'd better get dressed." I threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. I thought Solomon might be interested in more sex, but he showed no interest in me. His attitude was strange. Not hostile, just different.
I didn't say anything, just hurriedly dressed while he made coffee. Coffee was about all we had left as far as food was concerned, but food was really not a problem. I was worried about his attitude and what he thought.
As we sat at the table sipping our coffee, I decided to bring it out in the open.
"Solomon, what's going on? All of a sudden you act as if you don't know me. Shit, man, I know all of you. We have had good honest sex together. I've sucked your cock. You fucked my ass. I've wanted it and enjoyed it every time. But now you seem so strange. What gives?"
He gave me a strange look then made eye contact as he said, "That was all fine as long as the storm kept us here. But now the storm is over. In an hour or so you will ride out. Then how are you going to treat a black man? You are a white boss."
"You're damn right I'm white. I'm also a boss. You piss me off when you imply that I will treat you any differently than I did in bed. I treat everyone with respect. I just don't see a fuck of difference because of the color of our skins. I told you about Roberto. He is Mexican and a darker skin than mine. I treated the Indian at the lake with dignity and respect, so what makes you think I'll treat you any different now than before?"
He seemed at a loss. "Well, people change..."
"Yes, they do," I told him. "But I was going to ask you to go to work on the ranch. To be honest, I don't know if we would have sex again. That has nothing to do about a person working for me. I didn't fire the Chinese cook when he preferred Steve. Hell, man, I look at a man only if he is a man. Do you want a job?"
He took a long time before he answered, "The answer is no about the job, but for a different reason than you might think. You are one man that I believe what you say and I'll never forget you. But no, I won't take the job even though I would like to."
"Why not?"
"I think the sheriff may be looking for me. I got in some trouble when I wouldn't let some white men rape me. I beat the shit out of them. I was hiding out here in the shack till I got a chance to slip over the border and head for California."
"OK," I accepted his statement. I became the boss without knowing it. "This is what we will do. I'll get back to the ranch. The hands will be out looking for me. Tomorrow, I'll have one of the crew bring you some supplies and horses to get you on your way. You can stay here as long as you want. If the sheriff comes by, I'll get you word."
"I appreciate the horses and grub. I'm not going to get you involved with the sheriff, so I'll get this black ass on the road as soon as I get the supplies. I saddled the mare for you. I think it best you go."
We stood up facing each other. So much had passed between us. It was difficult to go. He reached out, placed his hands on my shoulders. His brown eyes were boring into my blue ones. He drew me close until our lips met. We kissed with longing and sadness. We both knew it was over. We would never forget, but it was all over. The storm was over. We were finished.
I rode out not looking back. I knew I had lost a friend.
I met some of the crew a few miles from the ranch. In a few moments, I gave the necessary orders to supply Solomon. I made sure Red would give him good horses, made out a bill of sale so Solomon would not have trouble.
Red never asked any questions about my supplying Solomon or what went on. He rode for the brand.
He did what had to be done. I moped around for several days, then settled into the routine of the ranch. There always seemed work to do. The memory of Solomon drifted further and further away.
About a month later, spring was here, the grass was growing, the meadows had their spring flowers, and everything was lovely, but I felt an inner loss. Something was missing. I didn't know what it was.
One evening, I wandered down to the corral as I often did. I liked to watch the horses and yes, I talked to them. Everything was at peace.
I saw the rider come when he was still a long way off. One can see for miles in this country. I watched him as he came nearer. Suddenly something happened to me. I focused on the rider. What was it about him? Did I know him?
Then I knew. I couldn't believe my eyes. He was still a long way off, but I knew him. I knew him. It was Roberto. It was. I knew even before I could see his face. The way he sat the horse. The way he carried his body. The way he was. He was Roberto, I knew.
He rode up to the corral facing me. "May I step down?" he asked.
I couldn't speak. I could only nod.
We stood facing each other. I was speechless in my happiness. I had no words. I could only eat him with my eyes. He was the first to speak, as his eyes met mine. "Do you want me back?"
I finally found my voice. "Roberto, Roberto, Roberto."
He smiled. "Is that all you can say?"
"Roberto, I want you back so much. I don't care if it is for a moment, a day, a month or what, I want you back. Oh, how I want you."
His bronzed face split in the warmest smile I had ever seen.
We didn't speak, just hugged each other with all the strength in our arms. Our lips met and clung to each other.
Finally, at long last, arm in arm we started for the house. Roberto had come home.