Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“How so?” Richard asked.
I shrugged. “He had designs on my marrying the only daughter of the rancher who lived next to us. That way, when her daddy died, our land holdings would practically double overnight.” I cut my eyes to him. “To say I wasn’t interested is an understatement.”
“Oh? Ohhh,” he said as understanding dawned. “Were you out? Did your dad know?”
I chuckled. “My dad was real good at believing what he wanted to. Even though Oscar and I had dated through most of high school and weren’t shy about showing affection, my dad always referred to him as my friend. He thought I was just going through ‘a phase.’” I put air quotes around the last bit.
“And you know, it’s Texas,” I continued. “That part of things didn’t surprise me. Especially not a couple of decades ago. But that wasn’t all of it. He… he was into diversifying, which is always a good thing for ranchers—I’m not saying it isn’t. But he ended up spending more time on leasing out hunting rights, oil rights, water rights, and you name it than tending to his stock and his employees.”
Richard hummed thoughtfully, and I could feel the weight of his attention on me. It was strangely comfortable, which might have explained why I kept going when I ordinarily might have stopped.
“Then my dad got into politics, and suddenly, optics were everything. He didn’t like the idea of standing onstage during his swearing in with his son and his son’s boyfriend in attendance. He started getting stricter about what was acceptable behavior, threatening to cut me off if I didn’t do as he asked.” I took in a deep breath. I’d let my resentment go, for the most part, but the memory still made me feel hollow. “Eventually, it became too much. I realized I was living his life, not mine. So I took off the moment I graduated high school.”
“Wow. Where did you go? What did you do?”
I stared into the fire, remembering how Oscar and I had left town together and the many months that followed as we’d tried and failed to make it work between us. It had taken us longer than it should have for us to realize we were two different people who had two different visions of the ideal life.
Leaving my father had been easy—he’d lost all interest in me once he realized I wouldn’t be the son he wanted. Leaving Oscar though… that had been much, much harder. He hadn’t simply been my boyfriend; he’d been my best friend—encouraging and comforting and endlessly loyal. I hadn’t known how to give that up.
In the end, of course, I hadn’t had to. Unlike my dad, Oscar hadn’t cut me off when our goals diverged. He’d never made me feel guilty for wanting what I wanted. His friendship hadn’t wavered for a second. Any attraction between us might have died out long ago, but I’d never questioned for a moment whether he’d be there for me if I needed him. He was one of the best people I knew.
Given that Richard had only ever seen a different side of Oscar though, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make him understand, so I skipped over that part of my life.
“Ranching was who I was,” I said instead. “It was in my blood. I knew that eventually I wanted to buy my own land, run my own operation the way I saw fit. But when I left, my dad cut me off financially. The only money I had was a few thousand from odd jobs I’d taken on during high school. So… I took everything I had and invested it.”
“Holy shit.” Richard laughed appreciatively. “What the hell did you invest the money in? This place is in the boonies, but it’s still an enormous piece of gorgeous land.”
My chest warmed at his praise, and my cheeks warmed at the answer. “Spunk.”
I enjoyed seeing the whites of his eyes in the dimming light. “Come again, pun intended?”
I chuckled. “When I left my dad’s place, I took my prized bull with me. He was from excellent stock—a calf off my dad’s best cow and bull—and I’d raised him from a calf. I’d entered him in 4-H competitions until he had a heap-load of commendations, even winning Grand at Denver. So I contacted someone I’d gone to ag school with and got his help signing up for the AI program north of Houston.”
Richard didn’t seem to follow what I was saying, so I explained the process of bovine artificial insemination, controlling genetics, and breeding for stronger calves.
“Money started coming in pretty quickly. I could make twenty-five grand from one collection session. That adds up over time, obviously.”
Richard started giggling. “Sorry. Sorry, keep going.”
“I became a semen magnate,” I said with a straight face. “Everyone wanted my seed.”