7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Mickey felt a hand on his shoulder, so he turned to see Matt Collins with a big grin. "Damn, he can ride, can't he? Who'd a thought the city boy knew his way around a big stud?"

They were watching Jon Wells riding Charlie, and the man had a good seat in the saddle. It seemed as if he knew how to make the horse gait better than Matt, and both men recognized it.

Mickey smirked and looked at Matt. "Well, it remains to be seen how he is around a stud, I guess, but based on what I've seen, I'd say it ain't his first time on a horse." Mickey couldn't hold his laugh at his own joke.

"How the hell did he end up on the back of Charlie in the first place?" Mickey sensed the protectiveness in Matt's voice, so he needed to reassure the bull rider Jon had extensive experience around horseflesh. They'd talked about it that morning as they cleaned up around the barn and had a cup of coffee. John had told him the story.

"My mom has three hunter/jumpers and three dressage horses at their place in Dillwyn. I still have a horse there I ride for pleasure when I go out. He's about ten now, but he gets exercised the same as the other horses on the property, so he's happy and healthy. With my schedule, I don't get out there as much as I'd like. I haven't ridden him in about a year, but I'm sure he's living large." Jon grinned.

"So, you ain't ridden anything in about a year?" It was laden with innuendo, but Mickey was getting a vibe from the lawyer he wasn't about to ignore.

"Over the last year I haven't been the one doing the riding, Michael." Jon's smirk told the story.

It was all Mickey needed to hear. "Never? I don't mind a ride every now and again, just for the sake of mixin' shit up. Sometimes, you need a good, rough ride to set your mind straight, or so I find."

The man swallowed and discreetly adjusted himself, so Mickey continued, happy to witness the effect his words were having on the handsome lawyer. "You think you're man enough to ride Charlie? Now, mind ya, he's a good horse, but he's a go-er. He needs a strong man to handle him. You think you're man enough to take a spin?"

The lawyer chuckled. "I think I can handle just about anything you throw my way, cowboy."

Mickey laughed with him and led Charlie out, saddling him up and hoping he wasn't misjudging the hot lawyer with the bedroom eyes. As he watched the man riding the horse around the upper pasture, he could see Jon Wells wasn't joking. He was a good horseman in his own right. Mickey had been impressed.

"His mother rides dressage and show jumpers. He actually grew up around horses, and his folks have a place in Dillwyn. He has a pretty good seat, don't ya think?" Mickey glanced at Matt.

Matt laughed. "You think he'd have a better seat on you?" The bull rider turned to Mickey and gave him a gentle punch in the arm.

"All's I'll say, boss, is I'd like a chance to find out, but I sure as hell wouldn't mind ridin' the stallion first." It was the truth, and he hadn't slept much the night before because he wanted to go across the hall and settle it in his mind once and for all if Jonathon Wells was gay, straight, or somewhere in between so Mickey might get a chance at him. He'd seen the bulge in those sexy jeans, and it was driving him insane with curiosity.

Oh, he'd respect Tim and Matt's rules about no random fucks under their roof, but it didn't mean he wouldn't fixate on it.

After Jon rode Charlie around the pasture, he rode the horse into the barn and hooked a lead on his halter before he began to unsaddle him. Mickey was in the office, watching the man through the open door, admiring Jon's sexy body as he worked.

Mickey had no idea how to even begin to approach a man like Jon Wells. Never in his life had the cowboy been attracted to anyone as intelligent and refined. While he was intensely fascinated, he was sure the lawyer was well out of his league. He was intimidated, but enticed.

The phone rang, and Mickey answered, not thinking about the people in the house who were also able to pick up the line. "Circle C. This is Mickey."

"Hi, Mickey. This is Rocky. Is Mr. Matt there? Somethin's wrong with my momma, and I don't know what to do. Maybe him or Mr. Tim could come help?" Mickey noted the panicked sound of the boy's voice, so he didn't hesitate to get more information.

"It's okay, Rocky. Tell me what's wrong with your momma? Is she breathin'?" Mickey pulled out his cell and sent a text to Tim.

Tim—Rocky's on the line. Miss Cindy's sick. Should we go to town? Mick

"Yeah, but it's loud. She was in the kitchen makin' breakfast, and she fell. She hit her head on somethin', and there's a lot of blood. I heard the crash, so I got up to see what happened, and I found her in the kitchen. I shaked her, but I can't wake her up. Tell me what to do, Mick." The boy's voice was a whisper, but Mickey heard the desperation.

Mickey took a deep breath, trying to slow his mind enough to calm the boy to ensure he was safe until they could get to him. "Okay, is the stove on? If it is, turn off the burners first. I'm callin' 9-1-1. They'll be there in a hot minute, bud, and we'll be there as quick as possible. Just stay with your momma and hold her hand so she knows you're okay. I'm gonna hang up, but I'll call ya right back. Just stay with me, Rock."

They'd entertained Rocky at the ranch many times, and Mickey liked the kid a lot. He was Ryan's best friend, and Matt and Tim had done things for Cindy Whipple she didn't even know about.

Mickey also knew the woman was gravely ill, having been diagnosed with MS which was serious, or so he'd surmised by the look on everyone's faces when it was mentioned. He knew everyone at the Katydid and the Circle C looked out for her as much as she'd let them.

Cindy was a damn proud woman, and her parents were worthless pieces of shit, having abandoned her and Rocky because his father wasn't white. The story broke Mickey's heart, but people were generally worthless as shit, as he'd discovered over his lifetime.

"Please hurry. I'm a-scared, Mick." Suddenly, the phone went dead.

Mickey dialed the number on his cell as he dialed 9-1-1 on the barn phone. "Hello?" Thankfully, Rocky answered.

"Good. Stay with me, Rocky. Hang on." Mickey gave the operator the Whipples' address for the ambulance.

After he explained the situation to the dispatcher and assured Rocky someone was on the way, Mickey ran out of the barn office and grabbed Jon Wells by the arm. He'd just finished unsaddling Charlie, and he was in the right place at the right time as Mickey directed the two of them to the house.

"What's wrong?" Jon sounded concerned, which was good.

Without wasting a lot of time explaining things, Mickey continued to pull the attractive attorney with him as he spoke on his cell. "You doin' alright, Rock? I'm headin' to the house to get Matt and Tim. We'll be there real quick, okay? Just stay on the line and when the ambulance gets there, let ‘em in, okay?"

He turned to Jon. "You need to go to the hospital with us. This is Ryan's best friend, and his momma has MS. It sounds like she's hurt, and Social Services is gonna wanna put that boy in foster care 'cause he don't have any family to speak of that give a shit about him. You're gonna become his best friend and make damn sure he stays with us until Cindy gets outta the hospital, got it?" His demand brooked no room for argument or negotiation, and when Jon nodded in agreement, Mickey ticked one more thing off the proverbial list. The boy had a lawyer who would stand in front of a judge and demand Rocky get the best care possible, which was with the Moran-Collins family.

Two hours later, the clan, along with all the extended family and two lawyers, were sitting in the waiting room of Lewis Gale Hospital in Blacksburg, which happened to be the closest trauma center to Holloway.

Rocky and Ryan were sitting on a teal vinyl couch with a deck of Old Maid cards Jeri Collins had in her purse, just like every good grandmother Mickey ever imagined would do. Matt was playing with them as the rest of the contingent tried to give off calm vibes. Everyone was worried, but no good came from alerting the boys to the problems associated with the worst-case scenario. It was a wait-and-see situation, as the doctor had informed them earlier when Cindy arrived by ambulance.

Mickey had been watching Jon and Ronni talking quietly before one or the other would go to the far end of the room or outside to take a call. He had no idea what they were discussing, but he hoped someone would be able to do something for the Whipple family.

As Mickey saw it, the problem was that if Cindy Whipple were to die and leave no one in charge of her son, Rocky would immediately be sent into foster care. Mickey hoped she hadn't been so consumed with the other aspects of her illness that she'd left her child unprotected, but he didn't know her. Matt and Tim did, along with Jeri and Katie, so he waited like everyone else to find out what would happen.

"Family of Cindy Whipple?" was announced as Mickey watched Jon on the phone in the corner of the waiting room.

"We're here." Matt took Rocky's hand and led him over to the doctor with Tim following closely behind. On instinct, Mickey grabbed Ryan's hand as he started to walk over to his friend, Rocky.

Maybe it was best if Ryan didn't hear the news right then. It was better for Matt and Tim to tell him what they believed he should know.

"Stay with me, please. This makes me damn nervous." Mickey appealed to Ryan's caretaker intuition which he'd learned from Tim much more than Matt.

"It's okay, Mick. Do you have a momma and daddy?" Ryan asked him for the first time and sat down next to him, holding his hand. Mickey was truly touched by the boy's tender heart.

He took a deep breath, preparing to be mostly honest with Ryan. The child didn't deserve to hear how horrible a turn life could take, but Mickey's life was going far better than he'd ever anticipated in the past. He was moving past all regrets.

"I do, but they had troubles. They needed to sort some things for themselves, and I needed to sort some things for me. We parted ways, but I still think about ‘em sometimes. I hope they're fine." That was the nicest way to tell the boy his own parents were pieces of crap.

Mickey continued, wanting to make himself clear when it came to his parents. "They were nothin' like Matt and Tim. Your dads wouldn't let you leave them for anything, but not everybody has parents like them. Be happy with who you have, bud. We all ain't so lucky." Mickey hoped it wasn't too heavy for the boy. He was certain it had sidetracked Ryan enough so whatever the doctor was telling Rocky, Tim, and Matt wouldn't register with him. Rocky would need his best friend's support, so keeping Ryan calm for the moment was the best idea.

After a few more minutes, Matt walked over to where Mickey and Ryan were sitting and knelt as Tim left the room, leading Rocky. "We're gonna take Rocky home with us tonight. The doctor isn't sure about his momma ‘cause she hit her head pretty hard, but Tim's gonna take him to say goodnight, and then y'all are gonna go home. The hospital will call us if anything changes."

Matt had his hand on Ryan's shoulder as he sat next to Mickey, but whether it was for Matt's comfort or Ryan's, Mickey couldn't tell.

"I can stay here and wait for any news, Matt," Mickey suggested.

Matt kissed Ryan's head before he helped the boy from his chair. "Go get Gramma and Papa so y'all can go home. We'll be home in a bit." Matt's comment had Mickey confused. Ryan kissed Mickey on the cheek before he hurried over to where Marty and Jeri Collins were sitting with Josh and Katie Simmons.

After they were gone, Matt led Mickey to the opposite corner of the room. "She has a fractured skull, and her brain is swelling. They want to operate, so I need to go to her house and find the folder she put together for Tim and me in case anything like this ever happened to her. She executed a medical power of attorney and a will that she told us about when we were there one time. Supposedly, it gives me the authority to approve medical care for her and Rocky, and grants Tim and me custody over the boy if anything happens to her. She just had it done up by a guy in town, and I need Jon to go with us to look it all over. Hell, I don't even know if it's legal because I never met the lawyer.

"Would you stay here and just keep an eye on things until I get back? They're gonna call her parents, but I doubt they'll come. I just don't want to think she's alone." Before Mickey could respond, Matt sniffed and reached for a handkerchief, offering Mickey a watery smile.

"Damn Tim Moran. I used to be able to get through shit like this without a tear or a worry. He's made me soft, the little fucker." Matt was obviously joking as he continued to wipe the tears. Mickey knew he worshiped the ground Tim walked on.

Mickey glanced at the floor to give the man some privacy to compose himself. "You're lucky, ya know? My heart's so damn hard at this point, I can barely imagine any reason I'd ever shed a tear. Go. Do what ya gotta. I'm just a random guy sittin' in a waitin' room in case her folks do show up."

Matt glanced up and pinched his cheek. "You're cute as a speckled pup. You'll find somebody who's gonna make you think twice about feelin's, Mickey. You'll see."

Yeah, right…

A large hand gently squeezed Mickey's shoulder. He slowly opened his eyes to see Jon Wells standing in front of him with a tender smile. "You're going to hate yourself in a few hours if you keep your neck screwed up like that."

"How's Cindy?" Mickey suddenly sat up to look around the waiting room, not really surprised there was no one around.

"They drilled holes into her skull to relieve some of the pressure, but she's in a coma. We found her documents, and Matt gave consent for them to operate, but the doctor didn't seem very hopeful about her making a full recovery. I spoke with her lawyer, who wants nothing more to do with the case. Apparently, he knows her parents, which is why he did the paperwork in the first place, but he doesn't want to compromise the friendship. I'm going to file the papers to take over as attorney of record. The hospital has the number at the ranch so let's get you home. Matt and Tim are home with the boys, and they'll all be asleep by now. Come on, cowboy." Jon took Mickey's hand to pull him up.

Once on his feet, Mickey stretched to crack his back and adjusted his clothes. "Awful nice of ya to come get me."

Jon laughed. "Ronni went back to Philly, so the boys are going to share Ryan's room. I'm going to stick around for a day or so, and I was hoping maybe you'd let me ride Matt's big stallion again." Jon winked, a pleasant smirk blossoming on his face.

Mickey was damn certain the warm feeling that rushed south to his groin was inappropriate at the time, but he was too damn tired to give a shit. "I can hook you up with a stallion to ride, if you want."

Jon laughed. "I bet you can, cowboy."

Once they arrived at the ranch, Mickey retrieved his keys to open the basement door, neither of them wanting to wake the house as they went inside, especially Corky. The dog would go apeshit if he heard them, but he was probably in Ryan's room upstairs, sound asleep.

In the spirit of caution, Mickey held a finger to his lips for Jon to be quiet as they listened to nothing but silence, which was a very good sign. Mickey led Jon inside, closed and locked the door, and turned to the man to grasp him in his arms. He sucked Jon's plump, bottom lip between his eager ones as he invaded the lawyer's mouth with his tongue.

The kiss was mind-bending. He tasted a hint of coffee and something sweet. The taste left him dumbfounded for a moment. It had, after all, been a while since he'd kissed a guy as passionately as he was kissing Jon Wells. The kiss with Ethan Sachs was gentle, barely a kiss at all, really. The kiss he gave Jon Wells was far different.

Mickey was determined to be mildly aggressive because he wanted the lawyer to understand he was serious, but he wasn't going full on oral assault. Jon was older than him and had a career Mickey couldn't begin to understand, but that didn't mean he couldn't show the sexy man a good time.

As their tongues swirled together, he felt Jon pull him closer to deepen the kiss, and he did everything he could to hold the man tighter. Kissing those soft lips added a whole new level to any kiss Mickey had ever experienced. He finally decided Jon's kisses tasted of butterscotch. Mickey had seen him sucking on candy earlier at the hospital, the same way he was sucking Mickey's tongue into his mouth.

The cowboy was about to shoot off in his jeans, so he pulled back, looking into the gorgeous, light-green eyes of the man he'd been fascinated with since he'd shown up at the ranch. He could tell Jon was about to lodge some form of protest, but he put his finger over the man's soft lips to stop him.

"I know what you're thinkin'. We have absolutely not one fuckin' thing in common except for the fact we both feel the need to have the comfort of another person right now. We don't gotta have sex, Jon, and I won't ever breathe a word of this to Matt or Tim because I respect their home, but I'd really like to have a warm body next to me tonight to remind me life isn't always so horrible. A little boy's momma is barely alive, and I'd like to be reminded there are good things in this world. The feelin' of your warm body next to me is one of those good things." Mickey kept his tone soft as he looked into the lawyer's soulful eyes.

Jon didn't offer any commentary, nor did he rebuff Mickey's advances. He led the tall cowboy into the room where he'd slept the night before, and he pushed him onto the bed where he worked to remove Mickey's boots, socks, jeans, and shirt. He settled Mickey under the covers and then undressed himself while Mickey watched.

He so wanted to fuck the man, but Mickey craved a gentle touch and warm heat for comfort, and he wasn't about to break Tim and Matt's rules. Death, or near-death, made him want to feel a muscular frame in his arms to remind him there were things to be grateful for every day. Jon Wells was one of those things and just what Mickey needed that night.

After the two of them settled into the bed, Mickey pulled the handsome man into his arms and held him, having always been in the caretaker position in every relationship he'd ever had. It felt natural to him to be the one handling business, because it seemed he'd been drawn to people who needed someone to watch out for them all his life. It was the only way he knew how to behave in a relationship.

One day, he hoped to have someone who actually cared about him and wanted to be there for him in a similar fashion. It really was a dream of his, and until it came true, he was content to fake it.

"Thanks, Jonny, for lettin' me hold you. I really needed it." Mickey felt a kiss to the side of his neck and then a trail of kisses down to his chest, which he appreciated.

"It's okay, Michael. I'm more than happy to be in your arms." Jon wrapped Mickey in his arms and turned to his back, positioning Mickey's head to rest on Jon's chest. It was unexpected, but Mickey wouldn't turn away the man's gentle coziness.

Mickey finally closed his eyes, absorbing the soft breaths against the top of his head until the cowboy could finally clear his mind to sleep. The rising and falling of Jon's lightly fuzzed chest was exactly what Mickey needed, finally relaxing enough to fall into a peaceful sleep.

For the moment, the future was in the distance and the past was too far back to see. Mickey would savor the now because it would become a memory far too quickly.