Pardo knew how to take care of himself. As a child, he was constrained, but the constraints didn't deter him from where he felt like he was destined to go. Potee showed all the signs of being restrained for about as long as he'd be constrained, and then it was time for him to go. Pardo thought he knew how Potee ended up on the highway to Laramie when they first saw each other.

Extending a hand to the kid on the road came natural to Pardo. There were no ulterior motives. He didn't think in terms of a personal connection. Subconsciously, he might have seen himself on the highway that ran down one side of the Lazy R. He might have connected to the hunger he sensed in the boy, but there was no way to see what was coming between them.

Pardo saw his sexuality as an inconvenient truth. He'd tried what was available to him. His desire had him using what was available to him. It was the urge he followed without it leading to anything concrete. This was an element of his life that refused to be quelled, but once he was no longer a schoolboy, he lost the main source of how he got the most sexual satisfaction.

He definitely knew that boys got him going in a way girls couldn't. He did his best to follow what he was told was normal, but it was boys who pulled his trigger. The idea that Potee had gone further down the road to admitting to himself where his desire took him, certainly made it easier for him to admit his desires were similar to Potee's desires.

It was difficult for Pardo to talk about his desire. Potee thrived on his desire for Pardo. He had little difficulty talking about what he wanted. Pardo always allowed it to happen, once he got together with a like-minded boy. He knew what his friends wanted by how they acted and reacted to him. Their talk was all action, once they were alone together.

As he grew older, he was better able to control when and where he responded to urges he liked to satisfy. It was amusing to see how urgent Potee's needs were. He remembered when he was the same way concerning the boys who liked rolling in the hay with him. He didn't know if age had to do with the restraint he now exercised, or if the lack of opportunity to bed a guy slowed down his desire for it.

It didn't matter. Having Potee want him all the time was cute. He didn't give into his desire the way he once did, but he wanted Potee every time he saw him. He couldn't have him in the places he saw him, and he knew to wait for the right place at the right time. Potee wanted any place to be the right place and it was always the right time for sex.

Pardo never belonged to anyone before. He felt like he belonged with Potee. The kid was easy to like and easier to love. It may not have been most cowboy's way, but it was the way they decided on. They liked nothing better than ending the day intertwined.

Pardo realized he'd be teaching Potee the cowboy way, but Potee had some teaching of his own to do. When he said he'd been around, it was obvious he'd been places Pardo hadn't been. He taught him a thing or two about what boys liked. Potee taught him things he knew could be done, but he never tried them with the boys he bedded in the hayloft at their farm or ranch.

He could no longer say he didn't know how such things were done. He had them done to him and he'd returned the favor, which seemed like the thing to do. He often saw himself doing them, while riding Topper on the range. Things like that weren't hard to remember.

Once you went further than you'd gone before, it was not to return there. Pardo smiled while thinking of the things he and Potee did. He often let his mind wander to things they did the night before and things they'd do again tonight. He smiled when he saw Potee in all his glory, lusty and ready to rock and roll with him. This is when he had the best ideas of what they'd do tonight.

There was something Pardo knew the night Potee came to his room to stay. The cowboys weren't due back off the range until the next afternoon, after the cattle were loaded on cattle trucks. It was a little white lie Potee told to get his foot in the door. It told Pardo that the kid had as much trouble forgetting him as he had forgetting about Potee. Since he ended up going to places he'd never been before, he wouldn't hold the lie against him. He'd be far too busy holding Potee against him, where he wanted to go. Since it was the best place Pardo had ever been.

He'd heard of rebirth and he was happy to be reborn in Potee's arms. His arms had been full of a cowboy from time to time, but no cowboy that came before Potee ever fit the way he fit. They obviously belonged in each others arms. It's where Pardo longed to be all the live long day.

Every boy wanted to be a cowboy at eight and nine, Potee began wanting to be a cowboy at sixteen and seventeen. Potee had an advantage over eight and nine-year-old boys, He worked on a cattle ranch. He helped feed cowboys. Potee mentioned his desire to be a cowboy more than once. Pardo heard him. Like sex, being a cowboy would come when the time was right.

Pardo remembered when he was Potee's age. He found a job on a cattle ranch. He didn't start his cowboying in the kitchen. Pardo's first job on a ranch had him shoveling horseshit out of the stalls in the stable at the Double TT. He was too scrawny to be a cowboy at sixteen. He knew cowboys were big strapping men who muscled cows and their horses. Once he was eighteen, and almost grown, the foreman said, 'I'm short a cowboy. Pick out a horse. Pick a good one, because he'll be yours. You're a cowboy now, Kid.'

It was easier to say than it was to do. He'd been around cows and cowboys all his life. His people worked on cattle ranches. He was raised with cow shit always on the bottom of his boots. No matter which cowboy the foreman put him with, he learned something new each day. One day he was a cowboy. No one needed to tell him he was one. He'd been a cowboy ever since.

Pardo wasn't the foreman. The man he needed to convince was Del Champion. He had a leg up on Del's approval of his plan. Del wanted Thunder working his cows. Potee owned Thunder. Del offered cold hard cash to the kid to buy Thunder. The kid wouldn't sell. Del even threw in the horse of his choice from the available Lazy R stock. Potee wouldn't sell. He didn't want to ride another horse.

Pardo understood what a beating Potee took trying to ride Thunder. When you fight for something, get yourself knocked silly, and finally triumph, you don't give away the fruit of your labor. Giving up Thunder would be like giving away his right arm. That horse was part of who Potee was.

"What's wrong with that kid? I offered him a thousand bucks for a horse not worth five hundred. Why won't he sell him to me?"

Del was waiting for Pardo to answer him. Pardo shrugged as if he didn't know why.

Pardo wasn't going to push. Potee would grow. While he grew, he'd be learning the cowboy way. When the time was right, he'd let Del come up with the idea of making Potee a cowboy. When Del was ready to do it, Potee would be ready to do the job.

Pardo knew that ranch life was way different than the work-a-day world most people joined. There were always ranch owner's kids and family members who worked on the family ranch from before they were ten. They might not put in a full day's work every day, and they might not know how to stop a stampeding herd of cattle, but they knew how to do what they were expected to do.

It's how it started for Pardo. Both his parents worked on the ranches where they lived. He was assigned chores and helped the way boys were expected to help. There was hay to be put up and spread out. Chickens needed to be fed, the chicken house cleaned, eggs gathered and cows to be milked. Some jobs were appropriate for girls to help with, while they also cleaned, cooked, and sewed. Ranch life was a busy life and the cowboys were only part of the work that needed to be done each .

Potee knew he was smaller than most boys his age. He figured he'd grow in his own time. He saw the logic in what Pardo told him. He could wait. He didn't mind the kitchen. Cookie liked how he did his job. That was cool. He got along with the grumpy cook pretty well.

Potee looked forward to more and more frequent horseback riding with Pardo. Any time he was with Pardo, his world felt complete. While they went horseback riding, the conversation often turned to the way cowboys did things. Even before he was learning how to be a cowboy, he listened to Pardo talk about the cowboy way. He liked hearing Pardo talk to him.

Potee was all ears on these rides. He wanted to know everything Pardo knew. He wanted to learn the cowboy way of doing things. As time passed, the lessons began at a pace that wasn't going to make Potee sick of hearing about cowboys. It was the only time when the two of them were alone, and they weren't touching, because cowboying was serious business, and it was hard to get a lip lock on a guy while you were on horseback.

Once Pardo walked Topper into his stall, and after Tumbleweed went to the chow hall to eat, Potee waited for Pardo to turn around, and he couldn't wait to get his lips on his cowboy's.

"What's that for?" Pardo would ask.

"Because," Potee would say.

"Because why?"

"Because I love your ass, Cowboy."

"Because why?"

"Your heard me, Pardo."

"Yeah, but I love hearing you say it," Pardo said, kissing Potee right back.

Life had never been better for either of them.

One afternoon, once he ate and went upstairs with Potee for dessert, he needed to go back out on the range. Leaving the chow hall by the front entrance, Pardo jumped off the porch, grabbing at the crystal blue sky. He'd never been happier and it was a great day for a ride out to the range to see what Rowdy had on his mind.

It was a wonderful day and he whistled while he walked toward the stable. He'd saddle Topper and take him to get a drink, before they took off. He sang while giving Topper two choice carrots Cookie gave him. As he led Topper out of his stall, he sang a happy tune.

"Damnation, what the hell has gotten into you, Pardo?" Tumbleweed said, after watching the cowboy lead Topper toward the stable door.

"Sun's shining. It's a a beautiful day, Tumbleweed. Count your lucky stars," Pardo said. "Oh, what a wonderful morning. Oh, what a beautiful day."

Pardo sang as he took Topper out the stable door to take him to get a cool drink.

"Just like every other goddamn day, you ask me," Tumbleweed grumbled. "Crazy damn cowboys. Crazy as a shit house mouse."

*****

Days came and went, seasons changed, roundups rolled around, cows were shipped to market, and the Lazy R moved along at the same old speed. Cowboys came and went, colts and calves got themselves born, broncs got broke, and Cookie served a ton of meals to the Lazy R cowboys.

Potee washed Cookie's pots and pans, rode Thunder on most days, and on some days he rode with Pardo and they talked about the things cowboys did and how they were done. On really nice days, they'd dismount and walk hand in hand near a pond or a pleasant pasture where cows didn't roam. Potee didn't see his growth, but with good food and contentment in his life, he grew taller and added weight.

Pardo noticed because he noticed everything about Potee. He was watching Potee grow and counting the days as their birthdays passed much like all days passed on the Lazy R. There were few changes cowboys took notice of. They herded the cows, waited for payday to arrive for the week leading to payday. They got in their pickup trucks and drove to town, and came home drunk and broke.

From time to time, Del went into the Laramie sheriff's station and bailed out a drunken cowboy who wanted to fight anyone he saw, and he put him in the back of the pickup truck to carry him back to the Lazy R. Drunk cowboys always smelled of urine and vomit. They took off for town expecting to drink and find love. They were so busy drinking that love slipped their mind.

Del couldn't imagine any self-respecting woman going near anyone that smelled like a drunken cowboy, but that was him. Before he drove out of town, Del stopped at Gus's diner for breakfast. He left the cowboy in the back of his pickup to sober up. After taking as much time as possible, he left Gus's and took a gigantic cup of steaming hot coffee to the cowboy who would be sleeping, hanging over the side of his truck vomiting, or struggling to sit up.

"Cowboy, this is a courtesy I extend to any cowboy on my ranch. Once! Pull this shit again and you can bail yourself out of jail, and once you're out, you can look for another ranch."

Del made this speech to Pardo once. Pardo got the message. On pay days, he rode herd while most cowboys were in town spending their pay. Pardo knew what it felt like being drunk for half a week after you drank in town all weekend. He rarely remembered what he'd done, and except for that one time, he was never arrested again. On payday, Pardo took fifty dollars for odds and ends until the next payday, and Del invested the rest of his money for him.

Each payday he got a statement showing how much money his money made while he rode herd.

It was branding time and Pardo spent most of a week out with the herd. He kept an eye on things for Del. He tried to get back to the ranch a few nights, but there were nights he needed to stay close to the herd. He'd crawl into his bedroll and watch the moon make its way across the sky. After tiring of that, he tried to count the stars. In rural Wyoming there were about a billion stars. He wondered which star Potee was under.

The best part of being asked to stay out on the range for a night or two, the reception once he got back to the chow hall. Actually, it was the reception after he got to the room over the chow hall.

He spent nights watching the moon, counting the stairs, while thinking about Cookie's pots and pans man. It wasn't hard work, but it was doing hard time while being away from Potee.

Pardo trained the new cowboys to the ways of the Lazy R. Rowdy would train them if he had the patience. Rowdy was good at delegating responsibilities, but his style was harsh and abrasive. He was the foreman and if you knew what was good for you, you'd by God do what you're paid to do.

Some jobs were shit jobs. The happiest part about what Pardo did, he no longer did shit jobs, but he appreciated that shit jobs had to be done, and he felt for the men who got handed one of those assignments. Instead of telling them they should feel lucky they had work at all, he thanked guys who went out and fixed fences in the pouring rain.

By treating men the way Rowdy treated them, they were more likely to leave the Lazy R. If you showed some appreciation and spread the shit around, it wasn't quite as bitter a pill to swallow. It's why Pardo was carefully placed between Del and Rowdy. Del didn't need to deal with the brusk and grizzled cowboy, and Pardo smoothed the ruffled feathers Rowdy cultivated.

It's another reason why Pardo believed that he and Potee will get where they want to go. Del depended on Pardo because he trusted his judgment. Pardo thought Del was a pretty good cowboy. When they rode together, Del pulled his weight. He never once said, "I'm the bosses son, and this is how we're going to do it."

Del saw Pardo pull his weight, even when he drank too much, and was hung over the week after every payday. He respected a man who mended his ways. Pardo stopped drinking the day Del was sent to bail him out of the local hoosegow. He didn't have a record, because being a general nuisance isn't a crime they file charges on, especially when it's a cowboy on payday.

Cowboys are cowboys and even cops respect what a cowboy does. Without cowboys there wouldn't be a Wyoming, and maybe there wouldn't be a west. If a cowboy broke something, he needed to settle up with whoever owned what they broke, and if he insulted someone, he'd apologize, and if it was a woman he insulted, with the apology, he'd ask her for her phone number if her husband didn't accompany her to where the apology was to be made.

Cowboys were a misunderstood breed, but most meant no harm and were no more dangerous than a cuddly kitten. Pardo never did anything more troublesome than throwing up cheap whiskey. He didn't like whiskey. He started out drinking beer with the cowboys he came to town with. He always ended up along in some hole in the wall with a bottle of whiskey.

When he had the time to think it over, not remembering what you did for a couple of days was downright scary. Once he thought of it, what if he did do something that was against the law? He'd seen cowboys fight anyone available, once he was too drunk for his own good. What if one of those cowboys hit a guy who hit his head when he fell, and he died?

The thing that kept Pardo sober, his money. By the time he started looking at the statements Del handed him on payday with his fifty dollars cash, a statement of what his money was up to. It started out a few hundred dollars. After years, it was thousands of dollars. Money he'd have drunk up was now piling up if he needed it. Pardo never had money before, and he kind of liked seeing it add up.

Del was smart. His father always owed money and couldn't pay his cowboys some months. He sold cows and raised cows and he never had much more than what he started out with. After he died, Del put the ranch on a money making course he planned with an accountant and other ranchers who linked the fate of all the ranches in the area. When times were bad, it was bad for everyone, and they all tightened their belts. When times were good, and times were very good, they put away a good portion of the profits. When times got bad, they had a rainy day fund that would see them through.

The cowboys always got paid on Del's Lazy R, and he expanded his land holdings and raised even more cows. When the markets were down on beef futures, none of the ranches sold any cows. When the prices were up, ranchers sent the biggest herds to market and they were rolling in cash.

Rowdy didn't care for Del, preferring his father. Pardo worked with and knew Del as a cowboy, before his daddy died. Mr Champions son learned the business from the ground up. He went to school to learn about running a business. The Lazy R was prosperous because he did. Pardo preferred Del. He ran errands for Del, so his contact with Rowdy would be limited, and that's why Pardo did what he did.

Pardo knew why Del kept Rowdy on. He knew he'd be foreman one day, after Rowdy left. Del would no longer need someone between him and his foreman.

For the time being they were all cowboys. One gave the orders, and the others did most of the hard work, Pardo was grateful he no longer answered to Rowdy. They got along okay, and Rowdy excepted Pardo as Del's cowboy. Pardo did his job and helped when help was needed before Del made him a house cowboy. Rowdy understood those dynamics and he cooperated with Pardo so he didn't need to cooperate with Del.

Cowboys jumped when Rowdy yelled orders at them. They didn't like it when he told them what to do, but someone was going to give them orders. Rowdy was the guy. Pardo jumped when Rowdy shouted at his cowboys. He didn't like men who yelled. Sometimes, if you ride up and tell a cowboy what you want, he'll respond faster and do the job more efficiently.

Each cowboy had to decide how he'd handle Rowdy. He was the boss and they were going to do what he told them to do. The general belief of minding your own business meant doing your job and not worrying about what other cowboys were doing. For this concession, cowboys got to be outside all day and they were out there riding their horse. What boy wouldn't love that?

Cowboys are usually tight lipped. It's part of minding your own business. They believe, if they tell other men about what cowboys did, everyone would want to be a cowboy. You didn't get a lot of pay, but you got fed regularly and you rode horses all day. The cowboy way was a damn good life, but cowboys will never be the one to spread that around.

Potee was dragging by the time he got around to washing the current batch of pots and pans being dirtied while Cookie fed cowboys back in the chow hall. During roundup, Cookie readied the chuck wagon to feed the cowboys out on the range. Roundup kept all the cowboys busy for most of a week. There was no time to bring them in to eat at the chow hall, so the chow came to them.

Once roundup ended, Cookie was back in the chow hall feeding cowboys who came in off the range for their meals. Not only did Potee need to keep the pots and pans clean, he needed to clean up the chuck wagon. The grease and grime that gathered on the chuck wagon was tough to clean, but if you didn't clean it, the next time the chuck wagon was employed, it had to be cleaned.

Giving grease and grime a few months to set wasn't wise, because Potee cleaned up the mess Cookie left, the first time they took the chuck wagon out to roundup after Potee arrived. If the grease and grime wasn't bad enough, Potee hadn't seen his cowboy for four full days. The kid didn't mind being on the range, he didn't mind serving the sweaty smelly cowboys. He didn't even mind the constant smell of cow shit. What Potee minded was being away from Pardo. That was a form of torture. Going cold turkey, after being in Pardo's arms every night for months, was as hard a thing as Potee did.

Once roundup ended and they brought the chuck wagon back, as tired as Potee was from the double duty, he still had time to think about sleeping in the room upstairs that night. He couldn't wait. He had to wait, until he got caught up. Tomorrow, with the chuck wagon clean, he'd go back to keeping pots and pans clean for Cookie.

It was music to Potee's ears when Cookie came into the kitchen saying, "Pardo just came in,"

"I'll take him a plate," Potee said.

He took his hands out of the hot soapy water. Going to the stack of plates next to the stove, Potee loaded Pardo's plate with chicken fried steak, green beans, corn, and mashed potatoes. He covered everything but the green beans in gravy.

"I'm going to get me some, Cookie. I'm starving. I ain't ate all day."

"Lord knows there is plenty of food, Potee. You ain't ate? That's on you. Don't worry me about it. I do appreciate you doing the effort you put in cleaning that chuck wagon. I hate cleaning that contraption. It's a hell of a time saver during roundup, but it's a pain in the ass to clean."

"I don't mind. I'd rather work than sit around," Potee said. "I remember the chuck wagon was a real mess the first time we took it to roundup. It took me an entire day to get it clean."

"That was on me," Cookie said. "You're okay, Potee. You never complained about how I left it."

"That's why I clean when we come in off the range. That way it's clean when we need it again." Potee had two steaming plates fixed up when he pushed his butt against the door that swung out into the chow hall. He knew where Pardo was sitting. He always sat at the same table.

"Hi," Potee said.

Pardo looked up from some invoices he needed to take to Del.

"Hi, Potee!" Pardo said with his biggest smile.

"You dream you starved. You got enough food there for a small army."

"It looks so good, I couldn't help myself. Here's yours, Pardo. Nice to see you. I saw you yesterday. I wanted to go to throw a lip lock on you, but I decided it wasn't such a good idea."

Pardo was all smiles when Potee set the plate down in front of him.

"Thank you. How about grabbing a few slices of bread and some butter. I want to mop up this gravy. We need a salt shaker too."

Potee went to collect the items Pardo wanted and he went back to dig in.

Pardo cut his steak, savoring each bite. He used the bread to soak up the gravy.

"You ever consider going into competitive eating, Potee?"

"What's that?" Potee asked.

"You eat as many hot dogs as you can pack away in ten minutes or so," Pardo explained.

"I like hot dogs. I want to take a bite and enjoy the flavor. What is the point of seeing how many you can eat in ten minutes?"

"That's the point. See how many you can eat," Pardo said.

"I'd rather enjoy my food. We was out three days, and feeding cowboys out of that chuck wagon is a lot more work. I suppose I didn't take a lot of time feeding myself. I like Cookie's chicken fried steak. It's one of my favorite meals. I never had it before I come here."

Pardo was about half finished when Potee picked up his empty plate and was ready to go back to work.

"See you when you come in," Potee said.

"I won't be late," Pardo said.

Life was hectic during roundup and feeding cowboys was as important as rounding up the cows. A hungry cowboy could be mean and angry. A well fed cowboy was a happy camper, not to mention, much easier to deal with. Just ask a cow.

Roundups came and went. Branding kept the cowboys busy for a few weeks in the spring, once calves were big enough to slap a brand on. Getting the calves away from mama took some work, but cowboys knew how to distract mama, until they could get the calf back to her. Branding was nothing like roundup, but it took a lot of time and attention being paid to this task.

Potee stood at the sink and scrubbed anything Cookie put in front of him, and when he put the last pot on the counter, he was rewarded with a fat piece of cake and a big glass of milk.

Potee would have done the pots and pans for the treat he got when the job was done, but he got paid too. That was a good thing, because he wore holes in his socks and underwear, and his jeans were faded and about worn out. He knew where the holes in his socks came from. He was on his feet all the time, but the holes in his underwear were a mystery.

Did you get holes in your underwear because of how fast you got out of them when your man has come home to play?

Potee giggled at the thought.


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