Chapter 6

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The bunkhouse addition was complete now, after re-arranging sleeping cots. There was plenty of space to hanker down with a pool table, a checker, and poker table. All the bunks were now in the adjoining room with no crowding plus space for eating meals and relaxing.

First light, also called sunrise, is the wakeup call for the Paxton crew each morning. Henry, the Rhode Island Red rooster, would crow when the darkness changed to morning brightness. He would stretch shaking and squawking loud, however, for being an annoyance, he always escaped the roasting pan. Henry was definitely earning his keep.

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Sara invited the Lockroy’s to Sunday dinner. The boys declined, but daughter Gloria was coming with her parents. She was not married and heard the Paxton boys were wife hunting. Gloria was no raving beauty, but she was a woman, so that peeked Ben’s interest. She had met most all the farm hands, but found something encouraging about Ben. He was ‘big time’ in a special way.

Alex liked saying, “She noticed Ben’s crotch, that’s specific in a BIG way.”

Getting ready for company, Sara asked Mickey to help, and he happily agreed. He knew Sara’s kitchen, where she kept everything.

The boys in the bunkhouse had no cause to hassle Mickey. After all, Randy was doing kitchen work, and cooking meals at the bunkhouse; besides cooks on the wagon trains were always cowpokes. Mickey was a wrangler, nothing more. That’s the way everybody saw him.

Mickey sat peeling potatoes and dropping them unto a pail of cold water for Sara to boil when she returned from church.

“Whatcha doing, Cinderella?” cried out Johnny bringing some wood into the house for the wood box.

“Watch it!” barked Mickey, looking up with a knife in his hand.

Johnny smiled and put his arm around Mickey’s shoulder. “I’m goofing, you ought to know that; blasted, you’re my best friend.”

“I am?”

“Darn tootin.”

I thought Alex was your best friend,” remarked Mickey.

“Alex is everybody’s friend. He is just that kind of wrangler. You’re different and play the guitar better, but don’t go blabbing that to Alex.”

“I won’t.”

“Can I help with the taters?” asked Johnny. I know how to peel.”

“Naw, I’m almost finished. Just fill the wood box for ma.”

Mickey and John finished then sat on the stoop watching for the family to return from church. From there, the view of the road was perfect.

“Hey, I’m supposed to sweep out the chicken coop today,” mumbled John. I better getter done before Charlie get back.”

“Nope – ain’t got to do it. Ross is doing it for you,” said Mickey.

“But, today is my turn, that’s nuts. Why is Ross doing it?”

“I asked him too, because you were splitting wood.”

“Mighty good of you – see, that’s why you’re my best friend,” said Johnny.

“And here I thought, it was my singing,” giggled Mickey.

“You strum the guitar and sing mighty relaxing. I could lay back and listen to you all night,” replied John flashing his big Irish smile.

A cloud of dust was visible on the upper flats, made by two carriages coming this way. The Paxton’s and the Lockroy’s were heading towards the ranch.

“They’re back, we better skid-dawdle,” said John.

They jumped from the stoop and John tripped falling on top of Mickey. This was the first time they touched one another. Cowboys seldom had the need to be that close, but this felt kind of nice. Mickey’s hand caught John’s legs gripping his crotch. John didn’t move, making no effort to get up. Instead, he let Mickey hold his balls “twice,” before getting up and running away.

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Sara asked everybody to have Sunday dinner at the house. Now it made sense why Mickey peeled so many potatoes. Charlie had tables pushed together covered with long white tablecloths.

At the bunkhouse, Mickey was strumming musical notes that sounded good along with Johnny’s harmonica. All the boys were there including Dan napping on his bunk.

“Just saying fellers, ma wants us at the house for Sunday dinner,” announced Ben. “She said to wash up a bit and put on clean shirts.”

Mickey lifted his shirt over his slim bare frame. He looked like a lamb one would pick up and carry away. He wasn’t husky, but looked remarkably good. The boys paid no attention to Mickey, not even Ben. The only person, who watched him undress, was John who handed Mickey a clean shirt.

“Are you’re awake? Ben asked Dan.”

‘Yep, I’m resting my brain, so my body can take over. How was church, did you get some words from the good book, for your soul?”

“I tossed fifty cents in the collection basket,” Ben chuckled.

“That ought to buy you something,” Dan replied.

“Did ma say for us to change our clothes?” inquired Randy, who was polishing his boots and listening to Ben and Dan talking.

“She said – “Wear a clean shirt - that was it.”

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The Lockroy’s and the Paxton’s were friendly neighbors and that pleased Sara immensely. Dinner allowed everybody to listen to everybody else. They talked mostly about farming, turning an hour into useless chatter.

Ben seated next to Gloria, whispered constantly. Ben took an interest in her, and she was coyly shinning up to him. After dinner, Ben showed Gloria the ranch and pa’s herd of prime horseflesh.

“There they go towards the barn,” said Alex watching his brother with a girl.

“It reminds me of yesterday. I hope he stays away from the hay loft,” asserted Dan holding back a snarky laugh.

“What’s wrong with the hay loft,” interrupted Mickey.

“Golly, he would never do anything like that…..Would he?” asked Alex.

“What’s wrong with the hay loft,” Mickey asked for the second time.

“Secret story, go away,” said Dan.

“You know him better than me,” Dan mumbled. “I’m just the barn whore.”

“That’s not funny,” growled Alex.

“I’m only funning,” laughed Dan, watching Mickey actually walking away.

“Do you think he’ll try for a poke,” Dan tested Alex for a reply.

“Naw – never, he only try’s that with us, we’re his brothers and dirty. Gloria’s a farm gal and her kitty bloomers stay on until a wedding day.”

“That’s what good women usually do,” whispered Dan, “plain and simple.”

Everybody gathered in the sitting room in front of the big stone fireplace. “Play us a tune,” Ross asked Mickey. It was a strange request coming from Ross, the quietest wrangler never saying much to anybody.

“I just happen to have my guitar,” exclaimed Mickey, glancing towards Johnny, taking his harmonica from his shirt pocket. “I hear you.” He said.

“Hum, let me see,” mumbled Mickey looking around the room. “C’mon Alex, we’re not about to carry on without you. Grab your guitar and we’ll play the folks some tunes.”

“AND, they sing too,” Interrupted Sara, boasting about her boys.”

The best part of Mickey’s entertainment came when they plucked the guitars and sang. “The Yellow Rose of Texas” followed by “Home on the Range.”

The get-together, with Mickey, Alex, and Johnny, soon became forgotten but, not the ‘Yellow Rose of Texas.’ Day after day, they would play the guitar at one place or another. They had become real pals.

Ben had a Paxton problem from time to time. He walked around with his pecker hungry and leaking.

“I know what you’re thinking,” whispered Alex.

“No you don’t.” Ben mumbled. “Oh hell maybe you do.”

“Of course I do, – you’re swelling in your pants. You want the hayloft.”

“You get a mark for being consistent, I’ll give you that,” declared Ben. “Dang, you know how I sometimes get. I like plugging butt holes.”

It was special when Alex took Ben’s hand and placed it between his legs. They were so used to giving each other signals that Ben knew Alex would be a fuck friend. However, they had piles of manure chores to do, so nothing happened that day.

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It was Ben’s turn to pick up supplies in bulk for ma to keep the pantry stocked with dry food. The items purchased in barrows and heavy burlap sacks, so he had to use a wagon.

“Take Mickey with you,” said ma. He needs boots and he is not putting it off any longer. He can’t be walking in those rundown heels.”

“Shore thing ma.”

Mickey was coming from the corral. “C’mon Mickey, we are going to town and get supplies. Ma said to get the boots you have been shying away from getting. Hitch up the wagon, I’ll get the list,” ordered Ben.

“Okay. Why are you looking at me that way?” he asked Ben.

“I like looking,” he replied, tying his horse to the hitching post.                             

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To be continued...