7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Tim stood in the barn office, watching the cowboys out the window as they herded horses up the hill. Doc Grant was in the hallway for wellness checks on the animals as the Katydid prepared for the fall.

After Matt Collins got out of jail, he thanked Josh and Tim for their help moving cattle but declined Tim's offer to help him out with Ryan. He wouldn't allow Ryan to visit the Katydid when Aunt Katie called to ask at Tim's urging. The boy was missed, but Tim was sure Matt's embarrassment at being arrested was the driving force behind the disappearing act.

Aunt Katie found out from Jerilyn Collins that Lanny and Matt got drunk and then got into a fight over an old girlfriend they had in common, which ended in a brawl. Apparently, when Danny, the ranch foreman, showed up that morning for work, the two men were shouting at each other loud enough that Danny called the sheriff after hearing a gunshot.

Nobody was wounded, but Tim wondered if anyone would find out what had actually happened. He hoped Matt would get over his embarrassment and his bruised ego enough to let Ryan come for a visit at the Katydid soon.

The office phone rang, bringing him from his reflections. "Katydid Farm, Tim speaking."

"Tim? It's me, Ryan Earl Collins. I'm at school, and I got sick. I called home for Daddy, but nobody answered. Can you come get me? I feel really bad." The boy's voice was whiny, which wasn't like Ryan at all.

"I don't think I can pick you up without permission, Ryan. I can try to find your dad, though. Hang tight. Someone will be there to pick you up soon." Tim hoped the boy believed him.

After ending the call, Tim dialed the Circle C—the name of Matt's ranch. The phone rang forever, and when it wasn't answered, a more aggressive plan was needed.

Tim forwarded the office phone to go directly to voicemail before rushing to the driveway, hopping into the little, rusty-red pickup Tim used for running errands. It was big enough to haul most things needed at the ranch, but small enough to be easy on gas.

Going to the house to talk to Aunt Katie was an option, but it would waste time for someone to pick up Ryan. Tim headed straight to the Circle C and stopped in front of the barn, hearing the radio blaring from the hallway.

There wasn't an office in the barn of the Circle C like they had at Katydid, just an old phone in the hallway. With the radio playing so loudly and all the cowboys out of the barn, nobody would have heard the phone. Tim walked to the back sliding doors and took in the sight of a few hands who were busy installing cattle panels for an impromptu pen in the upper pasture.

Since Matt was nowhere nearby, Tim decided to go to the School Superintendent's Office where Jerilyn worked. He wondered why Ryan hadn't called his grandma in the first place, but that was a question for another time. There was a sick little boy currently in need of care. He got back into the truck and drove to the school complex, parking in the visitor parking area.

Tim walked into the office to see Jeri behind the front desk, so he rang the bell to get her attention. She glanced up with an irritated expression that quickly changed to a smile.

"May I—Well, hello Tim. What can I do for you?" Jeri walked to the reception desk between them.

"Ryan called the farm. He's sick, and he couldn't get his dad on the phone. I went to the ranch and saw everyone working on fences and pens, but I didn't see Matt, so I thought I'd stop by here to let you know. Not sure why he didn't call you straightaway."

Jeri shook her head, concern evident. "Matt's not happy with me because I made Marty leave him in jail for the night. He was behavin' like an ass, and he needed to have some time to think things over and decide how he should have better handled that situation with that bastard, Lanny Whitehead.

"When he got out of jail, he told me that I wasn't welcome at his house, and he won't be comin' over to ours. He said I shouldn't bring over suppers anymore, and I haven't seen my grandson in nearly a month. I'm just as stubborn as Matthew, so if my baby boy is sick, I'm beggin' ya to go take care of him. I'll call over to the school and give my approval for you to pick up Ryan. Are you gonna take him home or over to Katie's?" Jeri asked.

Tim was a little surprised by her confession about the state of her relationship with her son, but at the heart of the matter was a sick little boy sitting in the office of his school. "Well, when I'm sick, I want to be at home, so I'd like to take him to the Circle C. Unfortunately, I don't have a key to the house. I can take him home with me, but I'm worried about…" He trailed off as he thought about Matt being upset with him for butting into his and Ryan's life.

Jeri Collins produced a key and smiled at the young man. "Take mine. You're right; Ryan needs to be home if he's sick. There's chicken broth in the freezer. Just take it out and put the container in hot water to thaw. I always keep it on hand in case somebody's having tummy troubles.

"I won't come over to the Circle C unless you need me. I believe, Tim, you're destined to be a big part of our lives. Ryan needs someone who will give him undivided attention right now, so if you don't object, please pick him up. I'll deal with Matthew," she told him with an expression that led him to believe she was done with her son's bad behavior.

Tim most certainly would have avoided the situation if he wasn't so worried about Ryan, so he left the office with a note from Jeri Collins and drove to the grade school. When he walked into the office, he could see the admin assistant on the phone. Tim pulled out his license and the note Jeri had given him, placing them on the reception desk.

After the assistant hung up the phone, she smiled at him. "You must be Tim Moran. I'm Bonnie Eads. Jeri told me to expect you. Ryan's in the nurse's office. Let me make a copy of your license, and I'll show you where you can get him. His teacher, Miss Blankenship, said he threw up, and Nurse Tyler said he's running a fever. Sounds like a twenty-four-hour bug, I'd guess. It's been making the rounds," the assistant added.

She seemed nice but she wasn't a damn doctor, so Tim nodded in agreement and followed her down the hall to the nurse's office. When they walked in, he saw little Ryan Collins sitting in a green plastic chair with his backpack on the floor next to him. His eyes were half-closed, and he looked utterly miserable.

Tim walked over and knelt to the boy's level. "Hi, buddy. How are ya?" The boy glanced up at Tim with a sad smile.

"I wanna lay on the couch," Ryan whispered.

Tim picked up Ryan and his backpack before heading back to the office. After Ms. Eads handed back his license, he took Ryan out to the pickup and belted him in. "We'll be home in a few minutes," he assured the sick little boy.

Poor Ryan looked so pathetic. Tim fought tears and anger built inside him at Matthew for not being there to get the boy when he called. It was horrible to imagine the boy didn't have anyone he could rely on.

As the pair made their way through town to SR-131, Tim glanced over to see Ryan was asleep. He continued to the Circle C, and when he drove up the road to the house, he noticed nobody was around, yet again. As he stopped the truck, Ryan's eyes sprung open and he leaned forward, throwing up on the floor.

Thankfully, the floor could be hosed out, but the sick little boy staring at him with things he didn't want to consider on his shirt made Tim hurry around the truck. He opened the door and unbuckled the seat belt, picking Ryan up as an unfortunate sound came from the boy that wasn't coming from the top end. When Ryan started crying, Tim knew there was more going on than a bug.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't worry. We'll get you cleaned up and settled into your bed. I'll take care of you," Tim told him.

The little guy was sobbing so hard, Tim was afraid he was going to throw up again, so he hurried inside the house with the aid of the key Jeri had given him.

He took Ryan down the hall to the bathroom and carefully helped him out of his clothes as Tim continued to speak quietly to him. "Don't worry. After we get you cleaned up, I'll wash your clothes, and this remains between us, okay? When did you start feeling bad?" Tim asked as he stripped off Ryan's little white briefs. They'd definitely need to soak, so he tossed them into the bathroom sink and continued to help the boy get settled under the warm spray of the shower to get cleaned up.

Tim took off his shirt so he didn't get soaked, and after he pulled down the portable showerhead and sprayed off Ryan's backside, Tim handed him a washrag with soap on it so he could wash. He just didn't feel right about doing it himself because he wasn't Ryan's father, but since his father was nowhere to be found, Tim was forced to improvise.

After Ryan was cleaned up and his teeth were brushed, Tim helped him into one of his dad's T-shirts and his little boy briefs before he put him in his bed on a large towel, just in case. "How's that?" he asked the boy.

"Feels nice. I'm sleepy. Can I sleep for a little bit before Daddy gets back?" Ryan asked.

"You can in a second. Let me see if your dad has something in the medicine cabinet for tummy troubles. I'll be right back."

He went to the hall bathroom, not finding anything of help in the medicine cabinet or the vanity, so he bucked up his courage and went to the bathroom in Matt's master bedroom. Luckily, he found some pink stuff he remembered taking when he was a kid and had issues, so he turned it to the back to check the dosage.

Tim poured the thick pink liquid into the little cup, sniffing it to remember the smell. He hurried back to Ryan's room with the medicine and a glass of water.

"Here we go. Let's see if this helps. I used to love this stuff when I was little." Yeah, he was lying, but if the kid took the meds, he'd chance a black mark on his immortal soul.

Ryan took the little cup and sniffed it, wrinkling his nose a little before he reached up and pinched it closed as he drank down the thick, pink liquid. He took a sip of the water before he placed the glass on the side table.

"Okay, get some rest. I'll be in the family room so just holler if you need me," Tim told him before he kissed the boy's forehead, not detecting a fever as Bonnie Eads had mentioned earlier.

Ryan was important to him, and he truly wanted the boy to be well. Seeing him sick made Tim's heart hurt.

After Ryan was tucked in, Tim went into the kitchen, rummaging through the freezer to find the broth Jeri mentioned. He found a large glass bowl in the cabinet and filled it with hot water. Once he was satisfied it was hot, he floated the container of broth in it and checked the clock to see it was about two in the afternoon.

Tim stared out the deck doors to see the cowboys still in the field. As he thought about it, he got pissed all over again, contemplating how the hell Matt would ever get a call from school if something was wrong with Ryan? Doesn't he have a cell? Doesn't he give a shit about his kid at all?

At 3:10 that afternoon, Tim glanced up from the magazine he was reading to see the bus drive by the house at the same time as the back door opened and closed. The whistling that followed only served to piss him off even more. There was a sick little boy in a bedroom down the hall, and Matt was happy go lucky? Fuck that noise.

Tim moved to the kitchen hallway where Matt was pulling out a beer from a twelve pack before he closed the door and opened the freezer, retrieving a glass dish. "Hmmm. Lasagna? Yeah," Matt said to himself as he placed the dish on the counter and started toward the front door.

"Unless you can eat the whole thing, I'd save it." Tim quietly stepped into the kitchen.

The bull rider jumped, which startled Tim. Matt wheeled around, his face filled with anger. "What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" Hostile, but it was nothing compared to how Tim felt about him at that moment.

"Your mother gave me a key to get in. Your son called me at the farm to pick him up from school because he's sick. If you think I'm making it up, you can go see the puke on the floor of my truck or go look at the dirty underpants in the bathroom sink that I haven't had the chance to toss in the washer. He has the flu, I'm guessing. He called the house and the barn, but nobody was here to answer, so he called me.

"You weren't reachable, Mr. Collins. If you can't take care of the boy, I'm pretty sure my Aunt Katie would help me take care of him. I hate to judge people by their circumstance, but it seems like you suck at multitasking." Tim didn't hold back, keeping all his righteous indignation firmly in place.

Matt laughed, seemingly without humor. "What the fuck do you know about raisin' a kid? You… You won't ever have a family of your own, now will ya, fag ?"

Tim held back the litany of names he had in his arsenal for the type of men who pointed the finger at him because of his orientation. Well, it's not the first time I've been called that. It's only a word." He chose to ignore the ugly slur because no good came of arguing with an ignorant jerk like Matt Collins.

Tim took a deep breath because as much as he wanted to beat the shit out of the bull rider, he quickly determined he'd likely end up on the bad end of that stick. It seemed prudent to try another approach.

"I'm curious, Matt. What are you running from so hard? You're making your life so damn difficult, and from the outside, you have a beautiful life. You have a son who worships the ground where you walk. Your parents love you and only want to help you raise your precious little boy, offering everything they have to help you with Ryan. You have friends in town who are always willing to pitch in for any reason. Whatever happened with Lanny Whitehead is your business, but don't let your night in jail make you lose sight of the bigger picture—the well-being of your son."

Tim stopped talking to give Matt a chance, but the man just stared at him, not acknowledging anything he'd said.

After a calming breath, Tim continued. "You can call me all the names you want if it makes you feel better. I'd never hit on you because you're not my type at all, but as a friend of your family, I'll do anything I can to help with your son. That little boy is amazing, and he deserves to be put first. I just want to help you make that happen, just like everyone else." Tim spoke with as much sincerity as he could muster, given the current situation and the man's harsh attitude.

Matt sunk into a kitchen chair, exhaling a held breath as he took off the NFL team cap he was wearing and hung it on the back of another kitchen chair. "I owe you an apology, Tim. That shit with Lanny just… He dropped the charges against me, and I dropped the ones against him. He was tryin' to get me to leave Ryan with Mom and Dad, just like Bertie wanted me to do. Lanny believed the two of us could go back to ridin' bulls and things would be like they used to, but that ship sailed a long time ago, really."

Tim couldn't tell if Matt was bullshitting him, but he seemed sincere. Or Tim was the most gullible person on the fucking earth.

Matt sniffed before he spoke again. "I'm sorry nobody was around to answer the phone when Ryan called. I never thought about that bein' a problem ‘til now. I'm tryin' to get used to bein' a single dad, but it ain't easy. Sometimes, I'm lost."

That was a sorry fucking excuse if Tim had ever heard one. It was clearly not the time for Matt to host his own private pity party. Tim hauled up his balls and decided to be brutally honest with the large man.

"Well, the time for you to be lost is long gone, Matthew. You have a son in first grade because your wife was so fucked up she couldn't see to it the boy got to school every day, so he has a late start. However, it's still workable.

"Ryan was sick at school today and had no way to get in touch with you. That's inexcusable. First and foremost, you should be reachable for that little boy at all hours of the day and night. My father decided, because of the fact I'm gay, it was enough reason to shoot my mother and himself," Tim admitted, though his mouth was running away with his common sense because he was so pissed.

He couldn't stop yet. "I can't ever get them back, Matt. You're the dad, for fuck's sake. That little boy should be your first thought when you wake up in the morning, even more than your cattle. If you don't want him, give him to me."

Yes, he was provoking the big man without regard for the potential consequences. Matt could literally beat Tim to death without breaking a sweat. Surprisingly, he merely bent over to rest his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, eyes closed.

When tears rolled down Matt's cheeks, Tim was stunned and immediately sorry for his harsh words, but before he could apologize, Matt spoke quietly. "I'm fucking it all up, Timmy, because I just don't know how to be a good dad. I've tried, but I honestly don't know what to do for Ryan. Hell, before Bertie took him away, I was barely there for him. I did my own thing and left it to her to take care of him. Now, I see how wrong it was, but I don't know how to be the kind of dad I had growin' up. I love Ryan so much, but I don't think about things like the fact he can't get me on the phone if he's sick. Why didn't he call Mom?" Matt asked.

Tim took a deep breath and decided to plow forward. He'd stepped into it up to his knees, anyway.

"He didn't call Jeri because she's not his dad, and he knows you're not speaking to her at the moment because she pushed Marty to leave you in jail overnight. But, at the end of the day, he's your responsibility, not your mom's. You… You're a selfish bastard!" Tim snapped at the man because it was the truth.

Matt looked up at him and the look on the bull rider's face completely deflated Tim's ire. The big man dropped to his knees in front of Tim and took his hand. "You have every right to say those things, Timmy. I've been so screwed up since I got Ryan back, and then when I met you, I got thrown for a loop."

The tears flowed down Matt's face, and it took Tim completely by surprise.

"When Lanny showed up here, well, he wanted me to leave my family because he wants me for himself. We fooled around a little back in the day, but we both said it was just outta desperation and fear of gettin' the clap or somethin' worse, so we stayed away from the buckle bunnies. Bertie and I didn't have sex very often after she had Ryan. In reality, I just didn't care about bein' with her ‘cause she just didn't do anything for me.

"Lanny showed up here without callin', and he thought things could go back to the way they used to be, but I knew better. I wanted to talk to him alone, which is why I called Miss Katie to see if Ryan could stay with y'all. I needed to explain to Lanny things weren't the same, but I hoped we could still be friends. Unfortunately, that's not Lanny's way.

"He doesn't like to lose… ever. When I turned down his offer of sex, he got mad. He likes it rough but this time, I wasn't gonna let him hurt me like he has in the past. I told him I had feelin's for someone else, and he threatened to kill me if I didn't stay with him. He pulled a gun from his bag and made me sit in the living room while he pointed that thing at me all night long, giving me all the reasons why we were right for each other and how he wasn't gonna let me get away from him again."

Tim's mouth dropped open, and he couldn't close it. Matt's words brought back too many memories he'd rather not think about regarding his own parents.

Matt wiped his eyes, but he kept talking. "When I heard Danny's truck comin' up the road, I knew I couldn't take the chance Lanny might try to hurt him, so I charged Lanny. We wrestled for the gun, and it went off. That's when Danny called the cops. We took the fight outside and when the sheriff showed up, we were both arrested. Lanny has gun charges pending against him, but he skipped out on his bail. I doubt they'll ever find him."

Tim wasn't sure how to feel about the news, but he was pissed at that Lanny guy, the stupid fucker. "Do you know where he went?"

"Look, Tim. I know I'm a mess, but I don't know how to sort this shit out. I know I can't do it by myself. I've been tryin' and makin' no progress at all, so I know now I need someone to help me figure out what the hell to do." The tears continued to slide down Matt's handsome face.

Suddenly, there were god-awful sounds down the hall, so Tim hurried toward Ryan's room, seeing the boy dart into the bathroom. Hearing that sweet little boy losing the small amount of water Tim had been able to get him to drink was horrible.

Tim walked in behind the boy and knelt. "Try to breathe slower." He gently stroked Ryan's back, wishing the little guy could feel better.

After Ryan dry-heaved a few more times, he turned to Tim with tears on his sweet face. "Am I gonna die?"

Tim's chest nearly caved in at the boy's shaky words. Considering how fucked up things were at the moment, Tim couldn't form words fast enough to dissuade the boy from those feelings.

Fucking Matt should have been a normal, loving father. The man had great parents, but there was something missing from his upbringing. Tim was starting to think maybe Matt had been spoiled when he was younger and never had to bear responsibility for anything.

Jeri and Marty loved him and had proven they'd do anything for him, so Tim guessed he'd never learned when one had children, sacrifices came with the territory. He'd seen it with his own mother, so he knew it was something parents did for their children.

The other thing was Matt's closeted status. He had a loving family Tim was guessing would learn to accept his orientation if he'd give them the chance. Why he'd chosen to stay in the closet was a bit of a mystery, but Tim wondered if it had anything to do with his profession. That was something he'd have to investigate, though he was pretty sure gay cowboys weren't accepted much in professional bull riding circles.

Tim considered his own situation. When he stomped out of that closet, it eventually cost his mother her life. She'd made the ultimate sacrifice for him, and he'd never forget it.

Ryan Collins had a lot of things to worry about for such a little boy. Tim didn't believe it was fair for him to have all of that on his shoulders. Then and there, Tim decided to step up to the plate for the boy. Fuck, someone had to do it.

"No, sweetheart, you're not going to die. It just feels like it right now, but you're gonna get this behind you in a day or two. Let's rinse your mouth and then how about I get you a little juice and some medicine?" Tim asked the boy.

"Will it help?" Ryan asked, looking as pathetic as anything.

Before Tim could answer, Matt walked into the bathroom, his gorgeous hair slicked back. He'd changed into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, and he looked damn nervous. "You okay, little man?"

"I called you," Ryan whispered as he washed his face after brushing his teeth. Tim noticed Matt's face turned red, and in his mind, the man should be fucking embarrassed. He hadn't been available to his son when he was needed. It was time for a change.

"I'm sorry. We were busy fixin' fence," Matt answered as if it was an acceptable excuse. It wasn't in Tim's mind.

"Your dad's gonna get a cell phone tomorrow because you should always be able to call when you need him." Tim's tone brooked no room for argument. Someone needed to take over the shitshow Matt was currently running because he'd proven he had no clue what to do when it came to raising a child.

"I am?" The cowboy appeared to be completely surprised.

Tim arched an eyebrow. "Grow up, Matthew. Your time to be… Yes, you're getting a cell phone tomorrow. If I have to go to Roanoke myself to pick it up so you can be here to take care of him, I will. If Ryan's sick, you should be the first call."

Tim picked up Ryan and carried him to the living room, pulling a throw from the back of the couch to cover him. Matt was nowhere to be seen.

"Do you think your tummy is able to hold something to eat?" As Tim touched the boy's forehead to check for a fever, Matt stormed into the living room and flopped onto the couch next to his son, his expression not a happy one.

"I'm sure hungry, Tim, but I don't wanna puke again," Ryan answered.

Tim chuckled at the boy's response, heading to the kitchen to pour a little broth into a coffee cup. He put the liquid in the microwave for thirty seconds to warm it.

When he removed the cup, he found the liquid to be tepid, which was likely best for Ryan's hypersensitive stomach. Tim grabbed a spoon and headed back to the living room.

"How about you try a couple of spoons of broth? Your gramma made it." Ryan snuggled in Matt's arms, clearly worried about trying to eat for fear of losing it again.

Finally, Ryan answered. "Okay, I'll try a little bit."

Tim nodded as he sat down on the couch next to where Matt was holding his son, the man's face finally showing the concern Tim believed worthy of the situation. Tim held the spoon up to the boy's mouth, waiting to see if it was going to settle. When it did, he got about a third of it into Ryan before the boy began to fall asleep.

"Go put him to bed. I'd suggest you put a towel under him in case… Well, earlier wasn't good. It'll save the mattress." Tim stood and took the cup into the kitchen to clean up the dishes. Once he had the dishwasher loaded, Tim walked back into the living room to see Matt hadn't moved.

"Wait, you're not gonna leave, are ya? I can't… I don't know how to take care of a sick kid," Matt whined, his face mimicking that of a child not getting their way.

Tim chuckled. "How'd you… Who took care of Ryan after he was born?"

"Well, Bertie did it while I was on the circuit, but she had help. Momma came over a lot, as did a couple of Bertie's friends from high school. Bertie's momma didn't approve of our marriage, so she didn't come around. She moved to Denver after Bertie left me.

"Mona divorced Bertie's dad a long time ago, and I only met the Colonel one time when I was in El Paso for a rodeo. He seemed like a decent guy, but he didn't care much for the women in his family." Matt seemed cautious to admit anything about his ex-wife.

Tim shook his head. "So, you didn't…? Never mind. Right now, you have a little boy who has the flu. He's been vomiting, and he has diarrhea. I put his dirty clothes in the washer, so when they finish, put them in the dryer. Maybe your ex-wife was a worthless bitch, but you have the boy now. He's your responsibility, cowboy. He thinks you hung the moon and the stars, so start trying to live up to all that adoration." Tim walked toward the hallway to let himself out the front door.

He still had to clean the puke out of the truck, which he wasn't looking forward to, but a man has to do… a lot of dirty jobs.