Kyle and I laughed long and hard. Aaron beamed. After Kyle had his information registered, he left us to return to the ranch and make some calls. We’d need the excavator out again, and the watering tank and all that went with it would have to be moved down the creek bed. I hung back to have a cold beer with Aaron. He always brought a six-pack out with him on jobs. So we had a sit-down and an icy Budweiser from the cooler in the front seat.
“So, Perry tells me that you and the professor are getting all the butt sex going on.” I almost spewed my sip of beer all over myself. Aaron sniggered. “Guess I’ll take that as a yes.”
“No.” I coughed, waving my wet bottle around. “No, there is no butt sex.”
“Yet.”
I thought to argue then pressed my lips together. If I had a dime for every fantasy I’d had about Bishop, me, and his dick in my ass I’d be richer than Midas.
“Yet,” I replied then pulled my forearm over my chin. That tickled Aaron. “How the hell did Perry know that Bishop and I were—”
“Fucking?”
“We’re not fucking.”
“Yet.”
I huffed. “Yet.”
“He said he went to the stable early to check on that pinto mare of his that’s due to foal soon and saw you and the professor sucking on each other’s faces.” He gave me a lecherous eyebrow waggle then took a long pull from his beer. A dusty wind whipped around us, tossing his long white hair into his face.
“Does that bother you?” I asked as he thumbed some hair from his sweaty brow.
“What?”
“That I’m gay.” It was something that I’d not really broadcast around, not like Kyle who was pretty open about his bisexuality. Which was how I knew about his lust for Pedro. I never really talked about my sexual desires. For many reasons. Although I’d spent nearly twenty years working and living with members of several tribes, my being gay was never discussed with the hands or the owner. Now, though, it seemed my sexuality was the topic of hot gossip. “I’m not sure how Native American’s view LGBT people.”
“We view them as people, just like all other people. Sure, there’s some ribbing but in the Native culture no one is exempt from teasing. Most tribal nations view a gay man as being almost perfectly balanced with male/female energy. In a lot of tribal nations gay men have a special medicine and are tasked with telling a person, usually a child, their spirit name, the name they’re called on by the creator. The only two people in the tribe that know a person’s spirit name are the teller of the name and the person themselves. So, we’re a few steps ahead of the white world. Which, you know, ain’t nothing new.”
He gave me a jab in the ribs with his elbow. I nodded in agreement.
“I’ve not felt this pull toward a man in years. Since I first met Devon to be honest.” I stared down at the beer bottle in my hand. “He’s not at all like my ex. I mean, nothing even similar. Devon was uptight, anal to a degree…stop snickering. What are we, fourteen?” Aaron snorted but remained silent. “Bishop is…different. More laid back, more open, blonder, and tanner, and he has a bun. I’m not sure about the bun. And he’s much younger than I am.”
“Is he legal?”
“Of course! He’s twenty-eight.”
“Then pretend he’s butter and spread him on your bagel.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Yeah, it sounded better inside my head.” He tapped his temple with the rim of his beer bottle. “The point that I was going to make,” he paused to belch, “nothing burps like Bud! What I was going to say was that who cares if he’s younger than you by a few years.”
“A few decades,” I interjected.
Aaron rolled his eyes. “Even better. He’ll keep your dick hard for longer. If you like him and he likes you, and by what Perry said you two really liked each other in the stable, then get laid and enjoy the ride. Are you the cowboy or the horse?”
“I’m not answering that,” I said, finishing my beer while he tittered. I passed him the empty then slid to the ground. “Thanks for the talk. I appreciate your acceptance.”
He lifted his beer in reply. “It’s all good. Make sure my check is in the mail by Friday.”
“As always.” We shook, and I whistled for my horse. He didn’t come, the shithead. Aaron thought my stupid horse was hilarious. “Always works for Roy Rogers,” I muttered as I went to get Tiberius, who was merrily munching away a good half mile away.
Once I was in the saddle, I had a decision to make. I could ride back to the ranch. There was a load of work to be done, as always. Or I could visit the dinosaur site. Purely for business reasons. I did have to make sure the hands that were scheduled to guard the site were on duty. Also, I was curious to see how the frill they’d found was coming along. Was there a skull nearby, or even still attached to the frill? If so, an intact skull would be worth a ton of money according to Perry the gossipmonger. Not that the university would be selling Millicent’s skull of course.
Leading my horse in the direction of the dig, we trotted along the dry creek bed, my excitement rising when I spied the snapping tarps over the dig. I rode right into the area without a soul stopping me. I was about to pitch a fit when I saw two of my hands helping to drape strips of what appeared to be dripping wet cloth over a large chunk of what looked to be rock. Everyone at the site was buzzing with excitement and covered with plaster.
“Nate!” Bishop shouted as he jogged up to me, his hands and arms coated with plaster cast. His nose was white, his glasses speckled, and his hair dotted. He glowed up at me. Tiberius tossed his head. Bishop took a few steps back. “Come see this! We found a humerus, a fibula, and phalanges!”