Cattle Valley 27 - Alone in a Crowd (2 page)

Ryan Blackfeather watched Smokey drive off with mixed feelings. It was his job to make sure the residents of Cattle Valley were kept safe, and Smokey had threatened Palmer Wynfield on more than one occasion. However, the sadness in Smokey’s eyes spoke volumes, and Ryan doubted the older man was in town for vengeance.

He turned away from the parking lot and walked towards the pond where he’d spotted Ezra and Wyn earlier. Standing on top of a small rise, Ryan watched the two men for several moments, assuring himself they were safe before going in search of his own family.

As usual, Nate was organising the clean-up efforts, perched happily under the cover of the gazebo. Ryan mounted the steps and joined his partner. “Everything going smoothly?”
Nate rose and wrapped his arms around Ryan. “More people come out every year. We should be finished by two.”
Ryan leant down for a deep kiss, sweeping the interior of Nate’s mouth with his tongue. “Makes sense. We’ve got more people in town than we used to.” He needed to broach the subject of Smokey’s arrival, but he didn’t want to ruin Nate’s day. As Wyn’s best friend, Nate was incredibly protective and loyal. Ryan knew it wouldn’t matter to Nate why Smokey was in town, he would stop at nothing to drive him out again. It was an inappropriate response from a mayor, but the predictable move of a best friend.
“I was thinking…” Nate began.
“Sounds expensive.” Ryan chuckled and kissed Nate’s forehead.
“Shut up. With all the new people moving in and the success of Asa’s new game line, we’ve got a lot of extra money in the budget.”
“And you’ve thought of a way to spend it.” Although Ryan enjoyed teasing Nate about his spendthrift ways, he knew Nate took his job seriously, and would only spend public funds if he honestly thought it was in the best interest of the community. “What do you have in mind?”
“Do you remember how good it felt to bring Jay here, to offer him a place of safety and acceptance?”
“Of course.” Since Jay there had been several other young men who had taken refuge in Cattle Valley.
“I think we should help Oggie build a facility to house runaways, specifically GLBT runaways. According to him, the streets of most cities are littered with young men and women searching for somewhere to belong.”
“A group home,” Ryan surmised.
“No, a home for a group of misunderstood and unloved kids,” Nate corrected.
“You’ll have to get it passed by the council.” Ryan didn’t doubt Nate could convince the others, but in doing so, it would consume Nate’s time and attention. He loved Nate to the depths of his soul, but once he started a project, it was all he could think about. The character trait helped make Nate a great mayor, but it required a lot of restructuring of their home lives. “Have you talked to Rio about it?”
“Yeah, last night when you were dealing with that wreck on the mountain road. He thinks it’s a good idea. He even suggested I talk to Asa about donating some money for the project.”
“Why do you need Asa’s money? I thought you said there was enough in the budget.”
“For the buildings and upkeep, but we’re going to need disposable cash to find and bring the teenagers here.”
Ryan nodded his understanding. It was the perfect time to mention his run-in with Smokey. “Oggie’s gonna need a few more adults to help him run things.” He cleared his throat. “And, ummm, I ran into Smokey earlier.”
“What?” Nate took a step back and stared up at Ryan. “Smokey’s back and you’re just now telling me? Does Wyn know?”
“Before you get too excited, hear me out. Smokey was completely sober, and from the look of it, he’s been that way for a while. He came back to apologise to Wyn and Ezra and since he didn’t appear to be sporting a black eye, I’d say the conversation must’ve gone well.” He took a deep breath. “He asked if anyone around was hiring, and I gave him Oggie’s card.”
“What the hell, Ryan? Why’re you making it easy for him to move back?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do, and deep down you know it.” Ryan squared his shoulders. He wasn’t without his own worries, but until Smokey proved otherwise, Ryan was willing to give him a second chance. Braced for Nate’s reply, Ryan’s cell phone rang before his partner could offer a rebuttal. “Hang on.”
Ryan pulled the phone out of his pocket and checked the display. He didn’t recognise the number that appeared, but the area code was a different story. How long had it been since he’d received a call from Oklahoma? Although he’d phoned his mom a time or two since moving to Cattle Valley, she had never once called him. “Hello?”
“Ryan?”
“Yes.” Ryan didn’t recognise the voice on the other end. “Who’s this?”
“Officer Clint Warren from the Tahlequah Police Department. I’m sorry to inform you, sir, but Sarah Blackfeather was killed in a traffic accident three weeks ago.”
Ryan sucked in a deep breath but quickly covered his actions with a cough. “Go on.”
“I would have notified you sooner, but it took a while to track down your whereabouts. Your dispatch gave me this number.”
“One moment, please.” Ryan maintained his composure. He withdrew the phone from his ear. “I’ll just be a minute,” he informed Nate as he left the shelter of the gazebo. Once he was out of earshot, he resumed the call. “Thank you for holding. Can you tell me if my father, Benjamin Blackfeather, was also in the vehicle?”
“No, sir, he wasn’t. Unfortunately, he wasn’t much help in contacting you. He said he hadn’t spoken to you since you were a boy.”
A boy?
Ryan walked towards a shade tree. The last time he’d spoken to his mom, she’d informed him of his dad’s stroke, but she hadn’t gone into detail, knowing there was no love lost between Ryan and his father. “Where is he now?”
“He’s still in residence at the Cherokee Elder Care centre here in Tahlequah, but your mother’s landlord is insisting the house be cleared and moved or the lot rent paid.”
Ryan’s first instinct was to tell the officer to toss everything in the local dump, but the thought of his grandfather’s ceremonial clothes being thrown away kept him from it. Although Ryan had sworn never to step foot in Oklahoma again, he knew he had to return once more. “I appreciate the call. I’ll be on the first plane out.”
Ryan hung up and called the airport in Sheridan. Within minutes he had a round trip flight to Tulsa procured and a rental car reserved. He glanced across the lawn to Nate. Although Rio might understand where Ryan had come from, Nate had grown up with a privileged lifestyle, far removed from the abject poverty of Ryan’s childhood.
Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Ryan rejoined Nate. “I need to go to Oklahoma for the night.”
An expression of worry crossed Nate’s handsome face. “Something wrong?”
Ryan shrugged. There were parts of himself that he wasn’t willing to share with his partners. “My mom needs me to do something for her, but I’ll be back Sunday night for dinner.”
“You sure you want to go alone?” Nate reached for Ryan’s hand.
“Yeah, it’s no big deal. I’ll run down and be back before you miss me.” He slid his arm around Nate’s waist. Burying his mom would be the last hold Oklahoma had on him, and he was anxious to put an end to that part of himself.

After checking into his hotel, Ryan drove to the hidden trailer park at the edge of town where he’d grown up. Although it had been over twenty-five years since he’d driven down the dirt road littered with potholes, Ryan went straight to the rusted singlewide.

He stared at the poor patch job someone had performed on the side of the trailer and wondered how in the hell the tin can was still standing. After getting out of the car, he walked to the back of the trailer and looked up at the window, or rather the rotted sheet of plywood that covered the window of the room that used to be his. Strong winds had blown the window out when Ryan was in the first grade and instead of replacing it, his father had stolen a piece of wood from a local construction site.

Turning away, Ryan rounded the corner and sat on the precast, crumbling cement steps that led to the front door. He studied the neighbourhood, his gaze settling on the empty pad where Mrs Cobb’s trailer had once sat. How many times had the older woman sneaked him lunch money without his parents’ knowledge, or set out clothes for charity pickup, knowing Ryan was watching?

The day he’d heard of Mrs Cobb’s death was the first time in his life he’d cried tears of sorrow for someone other than himself. Only hours earlier, he’d heard the news of his own mother’s death and the only thing he’d felt was shock at the mention of her name. His phone rang, interrupting the trip down maudlin lane. “Hey.”

Ryan grinned. Most people thought Nate was the worrier of the family, and although Nate did his fair share, it was Rio who worried every situation to death. “I’m sorry. I’ve been…busy. I would’ve called before you go to bed. You know I can’t sleep without the two of you.”

“Which is why you should’ve taken one of us with you,” Rio admonished. “I don’t want you here.” Ryan hated to sound so harsh. Dammit, it wasn’t Nate and Rio’s fault he’d lived in squalor with a father who refused to work and enjoyed disciplining his son in his spare time, which he’d had a lot of. “I love you both, but I’d rather not expose you to this part of me.”

It was a tired phrase, one people continued to use to excuse the torment they’d suffered early in life, but Ryan knew Rio meant every word. What Rio didn’t understand was that the rage born when he was just a child was still inside him. The trip back to Tahlequah served to bring it back to the forefront, but he knew it had never really gone away. He glanced over his shoulder at the trailer. “Change of plans, I’ll be on the first flight out tomorrow morning.”

Ryan stood and shoved the phone in his pocket. He’d planned to call a locksmith to get into the house, but decided to do whatever he needed to get his grandfather’s things. Returning to the back of the trailer, Ryan reached up and yanked on the bottom corner of the sheet of plywood. Instead of pulling away as he’d hoped, the board broke, cutting him in the process.

“Mother fucker!” Blood splattered against the side of the trailer as Ryan shook his hand. “Fuck this.” Ryan went back around to the front door and with one well aimed kick, broke the damn thing in.

Standing just inside, he shook his head. His mom’s housekeeping skills definitely hadn’t improved with age. At least with his dad in a nursing home, there weren’t beer cans thrown all over the floor and countertops, although his mom’s diet Pepsi cans seemed to take their place. He picked his way through the piles of newspapers, dirty clothes, trash and overall filth to get to the sink. Using a semi-clean towel from the drawer, he turned on the faucet. When nothing came out, he sighed. If the water had only recently been turned off, there would have still been some in the water heater, but with nothing, it was obvious his mom had drained it before her death. Ryan had a moment of guilt as he turned the faucet off. Growing up, they’d often lived months without electricity or water, but his parents had been younger and he hadn’t had the means to help. Of course it would’ve helped if his dad had got off his ass long enough to work a steady job.

Ryan wrapped the towel around his bleeding hand and went in search of his grandfather’s trunk. When he reached his childhood room, he realised it wouldn’t have done him any good to crawl through the window anyway. The small eight by ten foot room was stacked floor to ceiling with garbage bags of crushed aluminium cans. Tears filled Ryan’s eyes as he stared at his mother’s only retirement plan. The realisation knocked the wind out of his sails.

“Shit.” He thought of the large house he shared in Cattle Valley with his partners. His entire childhood home could fit in the garage. “No,” he admonished himself. His parents had chosen their path. He refused to feel guilty because he’d broken off and blazed his own way in the world.

With a deep, calming breath, Ryan began to go through the sacks, slowly easing his way into the room. It didn’t go without notice that not a single item from his first seventeen years was found in the debris. His father had probably performed a ceremonial burning of all fag shit left in the trailer after he’d left.

Under a small box of pictures, Ryan found the trunk he’d been searching for. He set the box aside and ran his hands over the worn leather steam trunk containing his grandfather’s legacy. For the first time since entering the trailer, he smiled. The trunk bore a heavy lock, something his mother had installed years earlier. She’d told Ryan’s father it was to keep the items safe in case their house was ever broken into, but Ryan had always known it was to keep them safe from his father. Not knowing where the key was, he had little choice but to either come back in the morning or take the entire trunk with him.

The answer came to him in an instant. Ryan knew he wanted the whole thing, not just what was inside. Using his good hand, he started to drag the trunk out of the room and through the kitchen. Experiencing a moment of sentimentality, Ryan went back into his bedroom and grabbed the box of pictures. He doubted there were many of him, but whether they liked it or not, they were Ryan’s family.

Smokey pulled down the long gravel drive with nervous anticipation. He’d spoken to Oggie on the phone and was upfront about his age and arthritic condition, but less than an hour later, Oggie had called him back to set up a meeting.

Parking in front of a newly constructed barn, Smokey got out and studied the area. He could see a couple of cows in a nearby pasture and a few horses, but nothing that would require a fulltime ranch hand.

Smokey turned to find a slim, good-looking man with one arm amputated at the elbow. He was taken aback at first, but quickly recovered, Oggie’s need for help becoming more apparent. He started to reach his right hand out to the man, but pulled it back and switched to his left. “Nice to meet you.”

Oggie shook Smokey’s hand. “I can see I’ve surprised you.” He glanced down. “Drug dealer in Chicago got the jump on me with a sawed off twelve gauge.” He shrugged. “I’ve learned to adapt.”

“Sorry.” Smokey didn’t know what else to say.
Oggie nodded. “It is what it is, but I could use some help around here.” Smokey held up his hands. They were becoming more stiff and twisted by the day. “I’m