Chapter 1

Rick opens his eyes. For a moment he is disoriented. Then he remembers. He looks around the living room of the mountain cabin. He and Ed had built this place just a year earlier. He sighs deeply and realizes he still holds a glass in his hand as he sits hunched down in the overstuffed chair in which he fell asleep. The glass is empty and the stain on his jeans reveals he has spilled his whiskey, probably as he drifted off. He pushes himself upright, sets the glass on the table next to his chair, puts his head in his hands, and rubs his eyes. Rick has to piss. He gets up and walks to the bathroom and relieves himself. He turns and looks at his reflection in the mirror over the sink.

“How did this happen? How could this happen?” he asks himself out loud. “How could this fuckin’ happen?” he says again, pounding his hand on the vanity, causing the mirror to shake.

Rick walks back into the living room and to the big bay window. He looks out on the lake with the sun glistening on the water—7:23 by his wristwatch. He stares vacantly at the lake and lets the sparkling ripples mesmerize him. Scenes from the previous night come back to him.

* * * *

He and Ed came home to their house in the valley after dinner and were in bed. They turned in early, eager to celebrate their anniversary. They had been together for six years, six happy, fulfilled years. Ed lay on his back smiling up at Rick, who.  was between his legs. They pressed their lips together. Rick was just about to complete their union when the doorbell rang.

“Damn,” he exclaimed, starting to get up.

“Ignore it,” Ed said, pulling him down and arching his back against him.

“What if it’s Becky?”

Ed replied, “Becky would just come on in and yell, ‘Hey, Daddy, Rick, ready or not here I come.’ So, whoever it is can just fuckin’ get lost. We’re busy!”

Now there was knocking—not loud but persistent.

Rick sighed. “Don’t go away.” He kissed Ed on the nose, got out of bed, slipped on a pair of pajama bottoms and slippers, and padded out of the bedroom.

“Git rid of the son of a bitch whoever it is and git back in here,” Ed growled after him.

Rick switched on a light in the living room that was semi-dark in the summer twilight. “Hold on, hold on, I’m coming.” Whoever was at the door continued knocking persistently. The pounding was getting louder now.

Rick opened the door and switched on the porch light. “Yeah?”

The man who stood on the porch blinking in the light and looking perplexed with his black Stetson held politely in his hands was tall, taller than Rick. He was also quite handsome, with blue eyes, a shy smile, and black hair flecked with grey.

“Oh,” he stammered. “I must have the wrong house. Sorry I bothered you.” He turned to walk away.

“Who the fuck was that?” came Ed’s gruff voice as he walked up behind Rick.

The man on the porch froze. He turned around. “Ed?”

Rick looked at the man and then over his shoulder at his partner. Ed’s eyes were wide and the color was draining from his face.

“Oh ma God.” Ed staggered back and lost his balance as he tripped on the ottoman behind him. Rick turned and grabbed his arm to steady him. “Oh ma God!” he said again. “Jerry…Jerry…you’re supposed to be dead!”

* * * *

Rick sighs again and turns from the window, letting the scene fade. “Jerry!” He shakes his head. “Jerry Taylor!” How many times had he heard Ed talk about his old lover? Rick would listen as Ed, sometimes drunk, sometimes sober, relived their time together on the Texas rodeo circuit when they had discovered there was more to their relationship than just friendship. He’d talk of how, when Jerry had pushed him for a permanent living arrangement, he had panicked and fled the rodeo to head back to Montana, where he hastily married Alice, his childhood sweetheart. He’d talk about the years he and Jerry spent writing to one another, arranging times to get together as Ed realized—despite his fear—that he loved this man and needed to be with him when he could manage it, making any excuse he could think of to explain it to Alice.

Then he had gotten that call from Jerry’s wife telling him Jerry was dead, killed in a tractor accident. Ed went all to hell. His rocky, ill-conceived marriage ended when, in his grief, he confessed to Alice what Jerry had truly meant in his life. He told of how it took years to get back on his feet, to be free of the guilt of not being able to give Jerry the relationship he had wanted.

Rick knew from the start Jerry, even in death, had a strong hold on Ed’s heart. Now…well, now what? Hadn’t he, Rick, made a life with Ed Doherty? Hadn’t it been his love for Ed and Ed’s for him that had made Ed strong enough to come to grips with who he was and what he really needed in his life? Jerry Taylor hadn’t done that.