You Don't Go Back

  By Terry O’Reilly

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2011 Terry O’Reilly ISBN 978-1-61152-151-1 Cover Photo Credit: Alanpoulson

  Used under a Standard Royalty-Free License. Cover Design: J.M. Snyder

  All Rights Reserved

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  * * * * By Terry O’Reilly Rick opens his eyes. For a moment he is disoriented. Then he remembers. He looks around the living room of the mountain cabin. He and Ed had built this place just a year earlier. He sighs deeply and realizes he still holds a glass in his hand as he sits hunched down in the overstuffed chair in which he fell asleep. The glass is empty and the stain on his jeans reveals he has spilled his whiskey, probably as he drifted off. He pushes himself upright, sets the glass on the table next to his chair, puts his head in his hands, and rubs his eyes. Rick has to piss. He gets up and walks to the bathroom and relieves himself. He turns and looks at his reflection in the mirror over the sink.

  “How did this happen? How could this happen?” he asks himself out loud. “How could this fuckin’ happen?” he says again, pounding his hand on the vanity, causing the mirror to shake.

  Rick walks back into the living room and to the big bay window. He looks out on the lake with the sun glistening on the water—7:23 by his wristwatch. He stares vacantly at the lake and lets the sparkling ripples mesmerize him. Scenes from the previous night come back to him.

  * * * * He and Ed came home to their house in the valley after dinner and were in bed. They turned in early, eager to celebrate their anniversary. They had been together for six years, six happy, fulfilled years. Ed lay on his back smiling up at Rick, who. was between his legs. They pressed their lips together. Rick was just about to complete their union when the doorbell rang.

  “Damn,” he exclaimed, starting to get up. “Ignore it,” Ed said, pulling him down and arching his back against him.

  “What if it’s Becky?”

  Ed replied, “Becky would just come on in and yell, ‘Hey, Daddy, Rick, ready or not here I come.’ So, whoever it is can just fuckin’ get lost. We’re busy!”

  Now there was knocking—not loud but persistent.

  Rick sighed. “Don’t go away.” He kissed Ed on the nose, got out of bed, slipped on a pair of pajama bottoms and slippers, and padded out of the bedroom.

  “Git rid of the son of a bitch whoever it is and git back in here,” Ed growled after him.

  Rick switched on a light in the living room that was semidark in the summer twilight. “Hold on, hold on, I’m coming.” Whoever was at the door continued knocking persistently. The pounding was getting louder now.

  Rick opened the door and switched on the porch light. “Yeah?”

  The man who stood on the porch blinking in the light and looking perplexed with his black Stetson held politely in his hands was tall, taller than Rick. He was also quite handsome, with blue eyes, a shy smile, and black hair flecked with grey.

  “Oh,” he stammered. “I must have the wrong house. Sorry I bothered you.” He turned to walk away.

  “Who the fuck was that?” came Ed’s gruff voice as he walked up behind Rick.

  The man on the porch froze. He turned around. “Ed?”

  Rick looked at the man and then over his shoulder at his partner. Ed’s eyes were wide and the color was draining from his face.

  “Oh ma God.” Ed staggered back and lost his balance as he tripped on the ottoman behind him. Rick turned and grabbed his arm to steady him. “Oh ma God!” he said again. “Jerry…Jerry…you’re supposed to be dead!”

  * * * * Rick sighs again and turns from the window, letting the scene fade. “Jerry!” He shakes his head. “Jerry Taylor!” How many times had he heard Ed talk about his old lover? Rick would listen as Ed, sometimes drunk, sometimes sober, relived their time together on the Texas rodeo circuit when they had discovered there was more to their relationship than just friendship. He’d talk of how, when Jerry had pushed him for a permanent living arrangement, he had panicked and fled the rodeo to head back to Montana, where he hastily married Alice, his childhood sweetheart. He’d talk about the years he and Jerry spent writing to one another, arranging times to get together as Ed realized—despite his fear—that he loved this man and needed to be with him when he could manage it, making any excuse he could think of to explain it to Alice.

  Then he had gotten that call from Jerry’s wife telling him Jerry was dead, killed in a tractor accident. Ed went all to hell. His rocky, ill-conceived marriage ended when, in his grief, he confessed to Alice what Jerry had truly meant in his life. He told of how it took years to get back on his feet, to be free of the guilt of not being able to give Jerry the relationship he had wanted.

  Rick knew from the start Jerry, even in death, had a strong hold on Ed’s heart. Now…well, now what? Hadn’t he, Rick, made a life with Ed Doherty? Hadn’t it been his love for Ed and Ed’s for him that had made Ed strong enough to come to grips with who he was and what he really needed in his life? Jerry Taylor hadn’t done that.

  Rick walks back into the bathroom, pisses again, strips, and turns on the shower. He steps inside and leans his head against the stall wall. Once again, for probably the tenth time since Jerry appeared at their door the previous night, he begins to plead his case to whoever might be listening, going over his life with Ed—a life that would be empty without him.

  * * * * Valley View Ranch and Riding Stable , the sign at the end of the lane read. Benny, Rick’s grandson, was fairly vibrating in the passenger seat of Rick’s silver F-150 super cab.

  “Here we are! Here we are!” he yelled. Rick smiled. He finally had a kid who shared his passion for horses. Stephen, his son, had never shown any interest. Jenny, his granddaughter, thought they were too smelly and dirty. But Benny, he was different. He would do almost anything to be around horses, just like Rick himself. Valley View was to be the new home for Ben’s horse, whenever they found it. In the meantime Rick was going to get the boy some riding lessons. Rick had a horse boarded at a stable near his home but Ben needed a horse with a little less spirit to begin riding. When they found one, they would move it here. It was convenient to Ben’s parents’ home and had a good reputation, even though it was a ways from where Rick lived.

  They pulled into the parking area, got out of the truck, and walked toward the barn. As they did, a man emerged from the dark aisle-way. He was tall and lean, and walked a bit hunched over. His boots were scuffed and he wore spurs. His old, dusty cowboy hat was pulled down over his brows. As he drew near the pair, he looked up and into Rick’s face. Those dark, brooding eyes seemed to bore into Rick. Rick took in the crooked smile and instantly fell in love.

  “Uh, howdy,” the man said. “I’m Ed, Ed Doherty. I guess
you must be the folks lookin’ fer a horse and some lessons.”

  He stuck out his hand for Ben to shake and then took Rick’s. Rick didn’t ever want to let go. He wanted to bend over and kiss that hand and then the man attached to it, to take him in his arms and make love to him.

  “Well, I guess we might as well git goin’,” Ed was saying. He turned and walked to the barn.

  Watching him walk away was pure heaven and hell all at once. Rick marveled at the masculine form he saw before him and was pained at any degree of separation. This was nuts. But he couldn’t deny the way he felt. He loved this man who called himself Ed Doherty.

  Rick watched the lesson. He never took his eyes off Ed. At the end of the lesson, Ed came over to where Rick was standing and said something about Ben bein’ a real natural, but the only thing Rick really heard was, “So, if he’s gonna take more lessons, I’d be glad to teach ‘im and…I hope you’re gonna come back with ‘im if he does.” He turned his head slightly and looked sideways at Rick.

  * * * *

  “Yeow!” Rick calls out as the shower goes cold, rudely bringing him back to the present. He doesn’t bother to soap up but turns off the frigid spray and gratefully wraps a towel around himself as he steps out of the cubicle.

  “Yeah, it was there right at the very start,” Rick reassures himself as he shaves with cold water at the sink. “He felt it too. It took ‘im awhile to admit it to me, but he finally told me he’d felt it, too.”

  * * * * “Ya remember that first day ya brung Benny up for a lesson?”

  Rick was lying with his head on Ed’s chest, listening to the beating of the man’s heart, playing with his chest hair, nibbling on his nipple.

  “Yes, sir, I do,” Rick replied.

  “Well, you said you knew you loved me right there that day.”

  “Yeah, I did,” Rick said. “I know it sounds crazy but that’s the God’s truth.”

  “Don’t sound crazy to me at all.” Ed rolled Rick off his chest. Then Ed moved over on top of him, pressing their bodies together. He smiled down at Rick, tracing the lines around Rick’s mouth with his forefinger. “I felt it, too. Felt it all durin’ the lesson. Could hardly keep ma mind on teachin’ that boy.”

  Ed chuckled at the memory. “Didn’t know what to do with them feelin’s then. But I do now.”

  Ed smiled, then lowered his lips to Rick’s.

  * * * * Rick continues to verbalize his thoughts as he gets dressed. “So why the fuck were you so noble last night?” Rick asks himself. “Oh, you two need to get caught up. You have so much to talk about. This is such a shock. I’ll just take myself out of the picture, go up to the cabin with ma tail between ma legs, and let you two get reacquainted. Shit! I shoulda stayed there! What kind of dumb fuck are you, Rick Jensen? This is Jerry Taylor! He who was dead is now alive. He, who Ed always brings up in one way or another, sometimes even when we make love, is here now, and here you are outta sight, outta mind, letting him have time alone with your man!”

  Rick always knew Jerry was Ed’s first love, and he would never fully get over the way it had ended—when Ed ran away because he didn’t understand his feelings for Jerry and was afraid of them, without Jerry ever knowing how Ed had truly felt.

  The memory of his coming up here and leaving Ed and Jerry to do…well, to do who knows what all night…brings to mind his horse, Shadow, in the small, two-horse barn. He had ridden Shadow up to the cabin from the farm. Both he and the horse knew the way even in the dark. Riding up here was one of the things he and Ed did a lot. Here on the mountain they both seemed to feel freer and protected. Rick heads for the barn deep in thought.

  * * * * “I want ta show ya somethin’,” Ed said one morning about four years after they had bought and moved to Hidden Valley Farm.

  “And, what might that be?” Rick responded, reaching around the waistband of Ed’s boxers and searching for what was hidden inside as Ed brushed his teeth in front of the bathroom sink.

  “Quit it, you damn pervert!” Ed said, laughing and spitting toothpaste on the mirror as he danced away from Rick’s probing hands. “This is somethin’ new. You seen what’s in them boxers plenty. Now let go or…don’t do that…oh, sheee-it.”

  Eventually Ed got to show Rick his surprise, but not until after they had made love for the second time that morning.

  * * * * Rick goes out to the barn, throws three flakes of hay into the manger of Shadow’s stall, fills the water bucket, and puts a scoop of sweet feed into the grain tray. He stands leaning against the doorframe, listening to the sounds of morning on the mountain, the lapping of the waves, the calling of the loons, the whistling of the wind in the trees. In his mind, he hears Ed’s words once more.

  * * * * “And right here,” Ed was saying. “Right here is where we’ll put the barn.”

  Rick was holding the horses as Ed paced off the outline of the building he evidently could see in his mind. “I figure only two stalls cuz this is gonna be our own private place. Only gonna be able to git here with horses and only us two. Whatda ya think a my surprise?”

  Rick thought it was a great idea. He said so to the happy, childlike man who held him in his arms on the top of the mountain that day, told him so in word and later in deed when they swam in the lake and made love on the shore. He knew in his heart in some way Ed was recreating a dream he and Jerry had once shared. But, he also knew he and Ed loved each other, and he was willing to share Ed with the memory of Jerry and that dream.

  * * * * “Not willin’ to share him now, though. Not with the real live Jerry Taylor,” Rick says, addressing the horse as he goes back into the barn and starts cleaning the stall. “But I can’t hate him. No matter what happens now.”

  Shadow looks up as Rick continues.

  “Jerry loved Ed and weren’t his fault things didn’t work out.” He throws this last outburst over his shoulder to Shadow, who is finishing his breakfast. Shadow doesn’t offer any comment.

  Rick returns to the house for his own breakfast, but once he arrives in the kitchen, he has no appetite. Instead he goes back into the living room, retrieves the glass from the night before, and pours himself a double from the bottle still on the table. He sits in the overstuffed chair and regards his liquid breakfast.

  “I ‘member some pretty nice breakfasts with Ed,” he muses aloud to the walls and the furniture. One in particular comes to mind.

  * * * * “Um, you been comin’ up here pretty regular past few months,” Ed said. “Ya know for Ben’s lessons and then uh…for uh, them trail rides we been takin’.” Ed was playing with the scrambled eggs on his plate.

  Ed had been talkative that morning on their trail ride and through the first part of breakfast at the diner they often frequented after a ride. This was unusual for the normally quiet, shy man. Now Ed seemed nervous, like someone not sure how to say what they wanted to say…not sure if they would even say it. So they just kept talking, hoping it would spill out at some point.

  Rick nodded, trying to prompt Ed to continue. “And well, I was, uh…thinkin’ that you got this horse boarded somewheres. What’s his name agin?

  “Shadow.”

  “Right, Shadow…and you come up here and…um…that’s a long drive for ya. And…uh…then ya rent a horse and pay for the ride. Well…”

  Rick could tell Ed was rubbing his hand nervously on his thigh under the table. He was rocking slightly back and forth.

  “I thought maybe that um…you could move that Shadow horse up here and that’d save you a helluva lotta time and money. Well, maybe not money, cuz you’d have ta pay board but you would save ya time. Well, maybe not time, either, cuz you’d have ta drive up anyway. But…” He said the last part of the sentence so fast, as if he wouldn’t have the courage to say it if he didn’t.

  * * * * Rick smiles to himself as he sits in the chair sipping his whiskey. That was an important moment, he knows now. It was the opening he had been waiting for, hoping for—an indication of whether or not Ed wanted a relationshi
p. Ed did want that relationship. Rick also understands how hard it must have been for Ed to be open with him about his desires, the same desires that had caused him to run from Jerry.

  Rick remembers being so elated, so surprised, that he hadn’t responded immediately.

  * * * * “Ah well, if you don’t want…” Misinterpreting Rick’s silence for rejection, Ed began looking down at his eggs and hash browns, putting his hands on the table on either side of his plate.

  “Oh, no, no, I think it’s a great idea!” Rick said, reaching across the table and putting his hands on Ed’s. Both men stared down at the touching hands and then looked up into each other’s eyes. Ed looked nervously around the diner and Rick pulled his hands away.

  “Well…well, that’s super then.” Ed smiled. “Let’s get this breakfast done. Then I kin take ya over and show ya your stall and the tack room. I’m gonna see if I can get ya a break on the board and then we can check out the loft where I live…that is, if you want…” Ed continued jabbering away, shoveling his breakfast into his mouth.

  Rick sat there with a warm feeling inside and a big smile on his face. Ed wanted something to come of their friendship. He couldn’t wait for a tour of the loft.

  * * * * Rick gets up from the chair and starts to walk to the kitchen. He notices the red flashing light on the answering machine.

  “Damn!” He immediately sets the glass down and hits the replay button, holding his breath, hoping it isn’t just some automated sales call.

  “Hey, uh…mornin’, Rick. Um…me’n Jerry here is gonna go out for somethin’ ta eat. Thought you might like ta come with us. We got somethin’ ta tell ya. Gimme a call. It’s about nine.”

  Rick checks his watch. Shit, nine thirty. He’d been outside feeding Shadow. He dials the farmhouse number. While it rings, he realizes Ed hadn’t ended his voice message with his usual, ‘I love you, bud, now and forever.’

  “Come on, answer, don’t be gone.”

  “Hi,” his own voice comes over the line. “Ed and Rick ain’t home to talk with ya. We’re probably out screwing around with horses or cows or somethin’. Or maybe we’re jist screwing around.” There’s a slight pause, then, “ But we’d like to return your call so—”