Cowboy Up
Ch. 4. The Fiery and the Snuffy
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| Detail from Brokeback Mountain special edition by SpyrousSeraphim. My thanks. |
Summary: Most things we do in life have consequences. After pleasure can come pain; love and fear often follow on from one another. So when Piers saved Chris's life and then Chris fell in love with Piers, there were bound to be consequences: The Fiery and the Snuffy.
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Chris heard Piers sucking-in deeply through clenched teeth, felt him filling his lungs as he tried to steady himself under Chris' sweating body. For the older rancher, long years of abstention, frustration, anger, guilt, and now desire, had release through the golden skinned man below him. But it wasn't purely carnal, there was an element that Chris didn't recognize at first ... it had been so long ... love? He slowed down his frenzied pounding, then stopped and listened. Piers seemed to have now ceased breathing ... .
Piers had wanted to cry out, at the pain, at their unwanted intrusion. Just as before, his body had gone rigid. Control Piers, regain control ... his mind still functioned ... but his physical form just seemed to hang there, suspended, frozen between breaths. The stabbing pain again, exploding inside him, like a brilliant white light illuminating an empty room. It was always like this. Was that it then, part of his curse? Pain before, during and after pleasure. Would they always go hand-in-hand? Were they the same thing? A voice burst inside his head, then another, were they pain and pleasure too?
Continued after the jump . . .
It wasn't planned.
But he almost died.
It wasn't planned.
But it wasn't his time.
Exactly, and now you've rewarded him, you've deviated from the plan.
Don't you think he, they, deserved it?
It wasn't planned.
Don't keep saying that!
We all accepted when it was to be the time. Now this, it wasn't ... .
I know, I know! It wasn't planned! ... But we let him go back? Agreed?
Yes, of course. He still has to complete his task. And we must keep to our original plan. Send him back.
Piers tried to wake himself out of the dream, nightmare, alternate reality, whatever it was, but it was difficult when you couldn't move. And one voice still remained ... .
"It wasn't planned ... Piers, can you hear me? I, I just couldn't stop myself. Piers? Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry ... it wasn't planned ... ."
Piers felt the warm breath on the back of his neck.
He was back.
It was where he had to be, but now it was where he wanted to be. He opened his eyes, the gold and the yellow, the brown and the green, whirling and dancing. Then, gradually at first, they slowed down, finally coalescing into hazel.
He was back.
He twisted his body around in the powerful arms that were holding him tight, and smiled up at Chris Redfield. The man who was the very reason for his being, the man who was his fate. And now, after the previous night, the man who was his lover.
He was back.
He saw the concern and confusion, the strength and the tenderness, the fear and the love in the face above him. All crowding together, jostling for recognition. Like Piers, Chris Redfield was wearing his emotions now; no longer trying to bottle them up or bury them deep. He'd come back too.
"Chris." said Piers simply.
"Piers! Oh Piers, I thought you'd stopped breathing. You suddenly felt so cold, lifeless. I thought ... ."
"Shh, I'm OK, I'm a survivor. And you? How do you feel?"
"Like, like I lost something and then found something else, no, someone else so much better. I want to laugh, I want to cry, I don't know what I want anymore, except you. I think you've saved my life twice today Piers Nivans, like you're my guardian ange ... ."
"Don't say it Chris ... !" Piers almost screamed the words out. Chris had never seen Piers lose his self-control. The hazel eyes below him flickered briefly in anger, then immediately softened as he continued speaking more quietly. "... no, not yet, don't tempt fate. Just enjoy the now, for me. Please?"
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"I'll take you up on that offer of a ride to the coast, Miss Claire, if'n you don't mind. I hates them buses, always stopping and starting, folks coming and going, a man cain't get settled. It's like a city on wheels. Gimme the range, a horse and some peace and quiet any days."
"Of course, Andy. Are you packed?"
"Reckon so, don't need much fer goats. I'll leave my tack here, ready fer the roundup. Sis will have anything else I needs."
"Oh Andy, I'll miss seeing you at weekends, and I know Chris is really gonna' miss having you around. I'm not sure how he's going to manage with just him and Piers. It's a lot of work for two."
"The Boss will manage fer now, it's a quiet time o'year. But he'll need help come the fall and after, ain't no denying. Perhaps that nice Mr Airhart will help you out?" Andy winked and grinned, he knew Miss Claire was more than a little stuck on Ben Airhart.
"Andy!" she put a hand to her neck and blushed.
The old foreman pushed home his attack. "In fact, Miss, if you was to live here, things would be rosier all round, wouldn't ya say? You could work mostly from home, on that inter thing, if'n you had a mind o'course. I'm just sayin’."
"You old rogue, you've thought about this for a while, haven't you? Just so you don't feel guilty about leaving."
"Sounds ta' me you like you's part ways here already Miss Claire."
"Andy Walker!" she gave him the drop 'em dead look, then burst into laughter and kissed him. "Bless you! Why didn't I think of this before?"
"Cos you got your head in them figures all the time Miss, instead o' jest lookin' around you. A buzzin' ranch means business, and business means money. Or don't they teach you that at that fancy University you work in? Git some o' them city folk here, the ones who reckon they's John Wayne or Annie Oakley. Fill the bunk house up wi' paying guests."
"But what about all the work Andy? It still has to be done."
"Take 'em with ya's, let 'em watch, let 'em help if'n they's a mind. Them 'clever' fools'll pay a tidy sum to git saddle sore and dirt under their fingernails. I've spoke to young Ben's and that Mr Alfonso's foremen 'bout it a fer. Might git you out o' this money pickle. Either that, or you best learn how to play poker with Piers, heh heh!"
"Did Chris say when they'd be back?"
"No, but a'for sundown I reckon. You don't wanna be leading mules in the dark."
"We can discuss these ideas tonight then, over supper. Have you ever mentioned them to Chris?"
"No. Not my place to Miss. The Boss is jest like your Uncle, Lord rest his soul, wears blinkers. Men like that, they's gotta think o' things themselves, you cain't tell 'em nothin'."
"Ha, Andy, you're forgetting, I'm still his little sister, I just have to make a pouty face like this and bingo, he'll do whatever I want." Claire demonstrated to a bemused old foreman.
"An what if'n he don't?"
"Simple, I make his life hell, as only a little sister knows how."
Andy shook his head and laughed. "Oh my poor Boss ... you don't stand a chance, heh, heh."
"I'm gonna make some phone calls right now to Ben and Mr Alfonso. Get some facts and figures, just in case Chris asks questions. Thank you, Andy, this could be just what the Lazy-R needs." She gave him a hug and another peck on his leathery cheek.
"Supper at 7 tonight, OK? I'll make trail-beef stew and root-vegetable hash, then Chris and Piers can reheat it if they're late."
"Miss Claire, I'm slaverin' already!"
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Chris and Piers broke camp early and rode out to check the fencing on the western border of the Lazy-R. They rode side by side now, Chris making the most of Piers' company, talking freely, like he'd always known him. He had a lot of silent years to make good, and Piers was an expert listener. His head cocked to one side in wry amusement, his eyes sparkling in the light from the blue heaven. It hadn't taken Piers long to remove his jacket and shirt as the sun rose over the high plateau. It wasn't done to inflame Chris, Piers needed to feel the warmth on his body, fuel for his soul. But inflame Chris it did, the hard curves and lines of Piers' muscles, the soft hair that covered his limbs and shone like a halo around his body in the early morning sun. Not for the first time, Chris mused on the 'angelic' quality of the young man riding alongside him. Yet when he'd tried to make the comparison earlier, Piers had become inexplicably angry, what was it he'd said? 'Don't say it ... not yet, don't tempt fate.' What on earth did he mean?
"Is that my cue to get a word in?" Piers' words broke into Chris' thoughts. "You've been silent for, oh, nearly half a minute, cat got your tongue?"
Chris laughed and threw his hat at Piers, but it spun away in the breeze. Rinty barked and ran after it, picking it up, his tail wagging. Going out with his master wasn't usually this fun. He trotted back to Chris and held the hat up for Chris to reach out and grab. As Chris leant down, Rinty backed away growling, he wanted to play.
Piers dismounted, laughing. "He's trying to tell you something Chris, it's playtime. C'mon!"
Piers took the hat from the dog, scratching him behind his ears, then waited till Chris was standing alongside them. "Here Chris ... catch!" He threw the hat like a frisbee. Chris ran after it, his arm outstretched, catching it as it spun. Rinty ran after him barking happily. They played Piggy-in-the-middle with the big dog for a good twenty minutes, both men sweating in the heat. As their reactions got slower and slower, they eventually collided, falling to the ground together, laughing and giggling, like two small boys. They wrestled briefly, but Piers didn't put up much of a fight and Chris was soon straddling him. His hands running over the sweating, golden muscles now squirming beneath him.
"Did you just let me win again Nivans?" Chris spoke in his best 'stern-boss' voice.
"Nope, I think I won ... a kiss?"
"Damnit Piers, what are you doing to me?" He bent down and they shared a long passionate embrace.
"I'm giving you your life back Chris. You'd forgotten you had one, I'm just reminding you, that's all."
"Thank you."
"Just doing my job."
"Do you enjoy your work then Mr Nivans?"
"Oh yes, very much. It ... um ... it has its rewards ..." Piers' hands slipped under Chris' shirt.
"Rinty, don't look!"
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In fact, Chris and Piers weren't back late. Claire heard Rinty barking about a quarter past five, and shortly afterwards heard the two men return. She knew they'd be a while whilst they tended and fed the animals, so she checked and stirred the stew, then took a shower. She wanted to be looking her best before tackling her Brother about her plans. She was pretty sure she'd get her way eventually, but there was no point in taking chances. Chris could be as stubborn as a mule sometimes. What was it Andy had said, 'you gotta make 'em think of it themselves ...' Hmm, worth trying perhaps?
Andy went into the bunkhouse showers around 6:30 to wash-up for supper. He'd heard Chris and Piers go in a little earlier, heard the sound of laughter. 'They sure like joshing' he thought absently as he entered, holding his towel around his waist with one hand, and his shaving mug and razor in the other. He stopped, rooted to the spot. Andy's towel and mug both hit the floor about the same time. His jaw was not far behind.
"Oh Lordy!"
Chris and Piers both heard the noise and turned around from lathering each other up. They saw a pale, naked body with a scrawny red neck retreating rapidly. A neck that was now getting redder by the second. They looked at one another, then burst out laughing. "Guess that just leaves Claire to tell now." said Chris, "Oh Lordy indeed!"
... Andy was the last to join the others for supper at the big kitchen table. He sat quietly. Head down, hands in his lap, trying to avoid eye contact.
"Er, right, would you like to say grace tonight Andy?" said Chris, feeling the awkward silence emanating from his foreman.
Andy didn't look up. "Lord, bless this table and we your miserable sinners sat around it." He emphasized the word sinners, it wasn't lost on Chris and Piers, but Claire was puzzled.
"Oh dear, Andy, you sound upset. Is everything all right?"
"No Miss Claire, it ain't."
"Wha ... ?"
Chris interrupted. "Andy saw Piers and I larking around in the showers tonight."
"I knows what I saw Boss."
"Larking around?'
Andy stood up suddenly. "Excuse me Miss, I think I'll take man supper in the bunkhouse tonight if'n you don't mind." He walked stiffly out of the kitchen.
Claire looked at her brother sharply. "Chris, what did Andy mean? What's going on?"
But it was Piers who Chris spoke to first. "Go after him Piers, see if you can explain. Tell him I'll talk to him later."
Piers nodded and got up to follow Andy. He stopped in the doorway and turned and smiled at Chris. "The truth, it's never easy told, but it's always best said."
Claire frowned in confusion. "Chris, what did Piers mean? What did Andy mean? What the hell's going on here?"
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Piers knocked gently on the slatted wooden door. "Andy, it's me, Piers. Can I come in?" There was a sound of shuffling inside, a bolt being pulled back. Piers waited a moment, then pushed the door open, Andy was lying on his cot. Piers sat down on the edge, facing the foreman.
"No good talking to me boy, I knows what I saw." said Andy, looking away from him.
"I don't deny it, and neither will Chris." Piers paused, then sighed, as if he'd reached a decision. "Look at me Andy Walker."
The hazel eyes in front of him whirled. Light filled Andy's consciousness. Not a concussive white light, Piers was not that practiced, but an intense blue, like a summer's sky. "If seeing is believing, Andy ... ."
"Argh! What the ... ?" Andy gasped, then he seemed to freeze in mid-sentence, only his eyes remaining mobile, blinking rapidly. When the light finally vanished, he couldn't tell if it had been minutes or just seconds. Without hesitating, he put a gnarled hand up to Piers' face, a simple gesture of kindness. It was cold to the touch. It looked tired, and much, much older ... .
What just happened?
He played a wild card.
But that wasn't in ...
The plan? I know, but it's in the rules.
It's ... it's most irregular!
You hate the randomness, don't you? You're afraid of it.
It's unsettling, there's no order, no structure ...
That's how they live their lives.
What's that peculiar noise? Is it you? Are you unwell?
Ha ha, they call it laughter, it's rather fun ...
... Andy shook his head, it must have been a trick of that weird blue light. When he looked again, the Piers he knew was sat before him. "Oh, sweet merciful Jesus. You poor boy." Andy was still trying to take it all in, but somehow he knew everything he'd seen to be true.
"You an' him?" asked Andy. Piers nodded. "All of them?"
Piers nodded again. "Every single one." he replied quietly.
Andy blinked. "Then who am I to gainsay it? If it's good enough fer the Boss, I reckon it's good enough fer me. I apologize Piers, and I'm gonna' apologize to the Boss right now. C'mon young fella."
"There's no need Andy, you can't ... won't ... be able to speak about what you've just seen."
"I won't?"
"Nope."
"Oh ... So, um, does the Boss know?"
"No, not yet."
"Dang it, Piers! Then what can I say?"
"How about just giving him your hand? And telling Miss Claire you’re ready for supper?"
"Heh, heh, I am a mite peckish." Andy seized the opportunity to get out of a confusing situation as quickly and simply as possible. "OK then, let's go do that!"
Andy put an arm around Piers shoulder as they crossed the courtyard. "By the way, Piers, I don't means anything by it, being regular straight an' all, but that's one hell of a tan line you got there, boy."
Piers laughed, "Andy, believe me when I say hell had nothin' to do with it! But thanks for the compliment."
"Well, I figure if I gits you in a good mood, you might find yer way to buy me a new shaving mug."
"Hmm, we could play cards for one later. Heads-up or Hold 'em?"
"Heh, heh, you're on son, I might jest get me a new razor too."
But they both stopped joshing the moment they walked into the kitchen. Chris had his back to them. He was holding Claire tightly. Her head lay on his shoulder; she was crying.
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Author's note: Some of you may be wondering what Fiery and Snuffy mean? The true origin of these old cowboy terms is now lost, but there are several plausible explanations. Fiery may refer to a 'paint' colored horse, with white and dark color spotting. Whilst Snuffy may refer to a buff or reddish-brown colored animal. Others say it refers to the camp fire and branding iron. In certain states, Fiery and Snuffy refer to lightning and thunder, or to the temperament of certain horses and cattle. There is probably an element of truth in all those explanations. In the context of this chapter, I mean Fiery and Snuffy to refer to pain and pleasure, love and fear. There, just adding to the confusion!
To be continued . . .
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