Betrayals

A/N: some of the dialogue contained here is borrowed from the series pilot "Palms of Glory"

Nick surveyed the activity from atop Coco’s broad back. The teams were hitched to the wagons of fencing supplies and the men were pretty much all mounted and ready to go. He caught sight of the new hand, Heath Thomson, checking the girth on his black’s saddle and he watched avidly as the young cowboy leaped into the saddle from a standing position, not bothering to use the stirrups at all. That movement set a small fire in Nick’s groin and he renewed his determination to add the blond to his list of conquests.

“Okay, men,” he called when everyone appeared to be ready, getting his mind back on the task at hand, “let’s move out. This is a working ranch, y’know!”

On the ride to the north pasture, Nick took his time in approaching the object of his desires. He started off beside Duke, discussing the day’s work crew, then paused by the driver of one of the wagons to inquire about how the team was handling before he pulled up alongside the blond on the black mare.

“Quite a pony you got there,” Nick commented casually. “Looks like she’s a runner,” he added when he didn’t get a reply.

“Yep.”

“Thinking she’s a Modoc. They breed ‘em right up there.” All Nick received was a non-committal grunt.

He switched topics and tried again. “Hot, ain’t it?’

Another, “Yep.”

“You can really raise a sweat this time of year.” The blond didn’t answer.

Nick wasn’t about to give up yet. He noticed the rifle attached to the worn saddle. “That’s a fine-looking blowpipe you’ve got there. Mexican?”

“Got the bite to blow the head off a grizzly.” Heath’s gaze remained on a point somewhere between his horse’s ears.

Finally, a response! “That is, if you get to it in time,” Nick joked.

“Don’t need to, just think it,” the young cowboy said diffidently. “Eyeball or button I wanna pop and pow…” He tugged on his Modoc’s reins. “ ‘Scuse me,” and pulled the horse away to fall back to the edge of the group.

“Damn unfriendly cuss,” Nick muttered under his breath. He wasn’t used to being blown off like that and resented it mightily. But Thomson’s indifference lit a spark in Nick, the thrill of the chase and the lure of the unattainable hard to resist. He was determined to have Heath Thomson, one way or another.

*

Nick paused, taking a moment for a drink for his canteen and to mop the sweat from his brow. He glanced at the men working on the fence. In the sweltering heat, most had removed their shirts and Nick appreciated the view of muscles glistening with sweat. Not that he wasn’t turned on by big breasts and luscious curves, no sir, but there was something about the carnal lust engendered by a man…

His thoughts changed when his roving gaze reached Thomson. Dammit, the boy still had his shirt on! Nick shook his head in frustration, wanting, no, needing, an unobstructed view of that toned young body. It just wasn’t fair.

Nick had to chuckle. As big brother Jarrod would say, life wasn’t fair and he’d just have to live with it. Well, he might have to live with it, but he was going to do his damnedest to change it. There was no place to get Thomson alone on that day’s job, but Nick’s mind worked on ways he could arrange for it to be just he and the blond out on some secluded part of the range. Restocking and repairing the line shacks, maybe. Nick’s groin tightened at that thought. The line shacks were equipped with nice, firm bunks, after all…

*

“Hey, boy, ever thought of having something more powerful than that mare between your legs?”

It had been a long, gruelling day and Heath was looking forward to getting back to the ranch proper and finding a secluded spot to wind down. But Nick’s comment, while innocuous on the surface, sent an uncomfortable shiver down Heath’s spine. He noted the voracious appetite in the hazel eyes and quickly looked away. He’d seen that look directed his way before and ruthlessly quashed the feeling of panic that threatened. Too many times he’d been the plaything of another’s lusts and wasn’t about to go down that road again.

He patted his Modoc on the neck. “Reckon my Gal and me do just fine,” he said, proud of the detachment in his voice, and wheeled his mount to ride as far from the tall rancher as possible, consciously ignoring the dark scowl that passed over Nick’s face.

Heath could feel those hazel eyes on him the whole way back to the ranch buildings, their intensity scorching an almost physical hole in Heath’s back. Despite the revulsion he felt, a twisted little part of him welcomed the attention and the carnal debasement that would accompany giving in to the other man’s lusts.

Heath shook his head. No. There was no way he would ever let another have that sort of power over him again. He’d wait until it was time to collect his pay and go, leaving Nick Barkley and his own warped urges behind.

*

Nick scowled. Was the boy really that obtuse, not understanding Nick’s real intent? Or maybe he was just naïve enough that he couldn’t understand? Nick sighed in frustration. Patience wasn’t a virtue that came easily to him, but he reckoned patience was just what it was going to take if he ever wanted in the blond’s pants. His cock swelled at the thought and he reached down to adjust it before his erection became too uncomfortable and promised it some relief soon. Tonight was Saturday night after all and his mind drifted to the enticing curves of the working girls at his favourite saloon and the certainty that one or all would be more than willing to take care of his voracious sexual appetites.

He considered inviting Thomson to go with them, wondering if he could get the young man drunk enough that he could lure him into one of the upstairs rooms at the saloon. But, no, that would be too obvious and besides, with the way he’d already been rebuffed more than once today, he’d already resigned himself to biding his time.

Maybe the other man would come along anyway. Nick chuckled lewdly. If the opportunity presented itself, Heath Thomson had better watch his ass.