"The Denton Boys"
Part 11
On the return trip, Jesse rode bare chested, holding his sticky shirt in his hand. They were approaching the farm so they stopped talking.
Sawyer pulled the buckboard straight into the barn and unleased the horses sending them outside into pasture.
Their pa was on the upper range working with Jeb Snyder a nearby rancher. Ma was pickin berries. Their secret was still safe.
Before supper, both men washed their bodies clean from the brotherly residue that banded them as sluts. They were always in the water washing and splashing since they were little boys.
"I can do for you, what Chad can do," said Jesse, walking with Sawyer towards the house. "I fucked you and that should account for something."
"It's not the same, and we shouldn't even be doing this."
"What d'ya mean? Oh, you mean kissin on the mouth and that tongue shit. Is that what you're saying to me? Hell no, I ain't doin that homo stuff. Forget about it."
I'm sayin that Chad is more boyfriend, and you are more, WELL – my brother!"
"Chad and I are men. A-ha think about that!" babbled Jesse. "A pecker is a pecker. But we are all not pussies"
"Sure, let's do that. Let's think about it!" Sawyer replied, wondering if Jesse didn't want Sawyer poking his butt after all.
Their ma had picked an assortment of wild berries. She knew what berries to avoid and left them for the birds to eat. She baked a "Very Berry pie," and it was cooling on the sideboard in the kitchen.
It wasn't Sunday, but Clara prepared venison with buttered roasted potatoes and celery/onions. It was extraordinary how good a cook she was. Supper was usually a plain stew but tonight was, "Sunday go to meetin," different.
"Boys, I have some news for y'all," said their pa.
"Is it good stuff or one of those nothing worth remembering things?"
"That sounds sorta `smart-ackey' to me," replied pa. "What's whirling around in your head?"
"Nothin pa I'm okay," Sawyer assured him. "I didn't mean to mouth off!"
"You sure `bout that?"
"Yep, I'm sure – what is the news that you want Jesse and me to know?"
A bull is coming by train tomorrow from Houston. I picked up the telegram in town this morning, and that's what she said, `TOMORROW' - He is a young bull, and we will raise him here on the farm," said pa.
"What time does the train get in," asked Jesse.
"That's the part - I don't know! There is a morning train and an afternoon train. The telegram said, `just arriving,' but no mention of which train. I think that is kinda dumb, if you ask me."
"So that means," - began Jesse.
"It is dumb, but that means you have to stay in town tonight, to meet the early train. Earl said you could bed down at the livery stable. It's not bad and plenty of clean straw to sleep on."
"Sawyer and I will do it, Pa. No need for you to go, unless you want too!"
"That's what your ma said." She said, "Ezra, no need for you to be doin what our two grown boys can handle."
"She's right, we can do it. The stall is ready for the bull and all we need now is Ralph."
"Who's Ralph?"
"Paaa," grinned Sawyer, cocking his head and raising one eyebrow.
"Dang, you've given him a name already! You've given several animals around here a name."
"That's what I do, they gotta have a name!"
"I think he's a little – touched." Said Jesse, "But I named a couple myself, so maybe we are all `shallow-touched' in the head."
"Nobody is "shallow," choose another word Jesse," directed his ma.
"I'm, just funning."
"Okay then," replied his ma giving a scolding look, saying nothing more.
There is a world of difference between realism and pretend. Clara always seemed to know the difference. Call it instinct or call it, common sense. Just the same, they are two different things.
"Even when painful, we should to do, what we have to do," was Ezra's view. When it came to the farm, he was a man, born to the soil, and working was the right thing at any age.
Sawyer was excited to go to town, but careful not to show it. He knew there would be questions with no answers that ma would ask. He hoped for a letter from Chad, although receiving a letter was most unlikely.
Jesse longed to spend some time with a saloon whore. Until that fantasy was unchained from his `wanting,' screwing women was his constant goal.
Clara and Ezra knew nothing about Jesse's infatuation with random sex.
The talking finally came to a quiet end. "We better get our bedrolls together and get started for town."
"It's a good idea, to get started," agreed Ezra.
"Stay away from the Ranch Saloon.' That place is drunks, gamblers, and wild women. If you want a beer, go to the Kat Saloon' down Frontier Street a fair piece. It's not jumping with hussies," advised their ma.
"Take a gun, but don't wear it in town. Leave it in your saddlebag. The six shooter is only for protection along the trail," said Ezra.
"Protection, from what?" Sawyer questioned!
"Not injuns, you ninny, pa is talking about rattlers spookin the horses on the road. Got to shoot the snakes or possibly get bit."
Moments later the two mischievous brothers on horseback rode for `hopes and dreams' longing to find satisfaction in town. They disappeared in the late afternoon sunset.
In town, Jesse and Sawyer headed straight to the Ranch saloon. They tied their horses to the hitching rail and pushed through the swinging doors.
The bar was crowded with cowboys hollering and finding fault with something or other. A few men had girls hanging around their necks being taken by hustlers with stupid giggles and fake smiles.
"Ma wouldn't like this, but I do." Jesse mentioned, rushing to get inside. "I'm tired of hearing that saloon cowpokes, are not like other people. "They want whisky and girlie action. What's so bad about that?"
"I'll be glad to explain it! Sawyer replied.
"What you having gents?" asked the bartender named Floyd.
"Whisky," said Jesse – err no, make that beer," he concluded.
Floyd set two mugs of beer down in front of them. The beer had run over the top of the mugs and the glass was wet and slippery.
"Happy now?" asked Jesse, who was crowded against a foul smelling farmer, standing behind him. He didn't like a sodbuster, breathing down his neck and pushing against his ass.
Sawyer noticed how uncomfortable Jesse was becoming.
"Darn tootin brother Jesse; I couldn't be happier,"
To be continued...
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