Pardo became accustomed to the beeping and hum of a dozen machines hooked to Potee.

There was no fear in the noise that meant Potee was alive. Silence was what Pardo feared more than he'd ever feared anything. Exceptions were made. You had to give some leeway to cowboys. Even in Denver, cows and cowboys were essential to the economy of life on the plains. Doctors rarely saw cows, but nurses often dated cowboys, and they knew they were a different breed.

Nurse Sandy was particularly touched by Pardo, who couldn't fathom the meaning behind the words, "Visiting hours are over. You'll need to go now."

The young rodeo rider in the bed was in poor condition. The doctors said, and nurse Sandy heard the discussion, "We'll see if we can wake him on day three. If he doesn't wake up on day three, well, odds are, he isn't ever coming out of it."

"Mr Pardo, honey," Nurse Sandy said on day two.

"What? Is it Potee?"

"They need to open him up again. You've got to move so they can prep him, Mr Pardo."

"Just Pardo, Nurse. I don't think I was ever a Mr."

"Tell you what. I got an apartment two blocks away. Why don't you and your friend go get a shower, stop and get a good meal. He'll be several hours. Might be late this afternoon before he's back in the room."

"What are they going to do?"

"He's bleeding again. They need to stop it. I'll draw you a map, Pardo, and here's the key. Take the big guy with you. I don't want to listen to him yell again. It's not allowed in here."

"Potee is like his son. He's accustomed to having his way without questions."

"I gathered that when he threatened to buy the hospital and fire all of us."

Nurse Sandy smiled. She'd seen it all before. Del Champion was like a dozen cowboys she knew, but yelling wasn't allowed in the hospital, regardless how many cows you owned.

"Thank you. I don't know what to say. Make sure they take good care of him. I'm not sure I'll live if he dies. I won't want to live," Pardo said, and nurse Sandy hugged him.

"Don't worry about making a mess. My brother uses my place and no one can make a mess like my brother. I don't mind cleaning up. There's a pot of coffee on the kitchen counter. Help yourself."

Pardo was still in shock. Potee was in the operating room for hours two days before. They said they'd need to go back in, but they'd managed to repair most of the damage. The rest was up to Potee. He was young and he was strong. Nothing was damaged so bad he couldn't recover, but the total damage was so extensive that one or another of his organs might quit under the strain.

Del could have gone to a hotel and showered and eaten anywhere he wanted, but he didn't. He wasn't leaving the room without Potee. He didn't know how they'd get him the hundred and fifty miles home, but he'd get him there in the easiest way possible.

Before leaving Nurse Sandy's apartment, Del put a hundred dollar bill under the coffee maker. He'd stood in the shower for a half an hour, and he left pins and paper all over the place from the shirt, socks, and pants he bought at a men's clothing store on the way to the nurse's apartment.

They were clean, but neither of them ate, and their clothes were clean, although the creases and folds told the story that the new clothes replaced the clothes they had on when an emergency struck.

"I feel like I did the first time my father took me to the big city. I didn't have anything but old faded cowboy clothes. He stopped at Sears and got me the works. This underwear itches. I think there's still a pin in there I missed, damn it," Del said, trying to scratch his ass in the stiff gear.

Nurse Sandy got Pardo to eat some cherry jello the second night. Potee was back in the room. Pardo was holding his hand. He had a breathing tube once they brought him back to the ICU. The orderlies ignored the cowboys in the strange new clothes that they knew shouldn't be in the ICU. They'd been told, 'Don't dare say anything to the big guy. You'll have a riot if you do."

Nurse Sandy was back a minute after they rearranged Potee in his bed with all the machines beeping and moaning.

"They'll take that out when the doctor comes back in to check his vitals. He needed the breathing tube while they were inside him," she explained.

"Are you always here?" Pardo asked.

"He's my patient. As long as he needs me, I'll be here. I won't leave him either," she said, worried about her words giving Pardo the wrong idea.

"He you brother, Pardo?"

"He's my man. I can't live without him. I can't leave him. I'd worry myself sick. I'm worried sick already. I let him do this to himself. I should have done something."

"Honey, you're a cowboy. I know cowboys. He did what he decided to do. Don't matter who you are. When a cowboy makes up his mind to do something, you just get out of the way."

"I know. I should have stopped him."

Nurse Sandy put her hand on Pardo's shoulder.

"He's got a long tough fight ahead of him."

The doctor came in an hour later. He had the breathing tube removed, checked all the readings on the dozen machines. He listened to Potee's heart, lungs, stomach, and grunted once before he left the room. He didn't say anything and Pardo moved back up to the bed and took Potee's hand in his.

"Day three," the doctor said to nurse Sandy. "No sign he's going to wake up. He'll live but I wouldn't want to be him."

Nurse Sandy knew she couldn't cry, because someone like Pardo would spot tears in an instant, and he'd know. He needed to have hope, until he accepted what was coming. The boy was so young.

Pardo's head was on the bed, Potee's hand in his hand. He half woke up every few minutes to listen for the sounds that meant Potee was alive.

It was in the middle of the night on the third day, Potee's eyes sprung open. He gasped the stale air in the room. He didn't know where he was. His insides felt like they'd been put through a trash compactor a couple of times. He gasped as pain shot through him.

When he finally felt his hand, he knew it was being held. That's when he found Pardo. He found he could move his hand. He slipped his hand free of Pardo's hand, putting it on top of his lover's head. He ran his fingers through it. He smiled when he noticed the gray becoming more apparent.

Potee smiled.

"I love you. I'll do anything you ask me to."

Pardo heard the voice. It was scratchy and the words came slower than usual, but he knew the voice and forced himself to wake up. He needed to know it wasn't a dream. He needed to hear the machines. He needed to see Potee.

Potee was blinking. His eyes were dull and without their usual lively look.

Pardo cried.

"I love you. I'll do anything you ask me to," Potee repeated.

"I'm your man, and you better live goddamn you."

"What happened?"

"What?" Del said, standing up out of the most uncomfortable chair ever constructed.

"You came off Devil Wind. We're in Denver."

"I feel like someone is tap dancing on my insides," Potee said.

"You fell under him. He stepped on you. The pickup rider was right there. He saved your life."

"Where am I?"

"Denver."

"Why? I don't get it. I was on a bronc? You let me get back on a bronc?"

Del stood behind Pardo and looked at Potee's face.

"I thought we were going to lose you," Del said. "You weren't good when you came in here. I already made funeral arrangements."

"How long?"

"Three days. Going on four now. It's Wednesday morning. You came in Saturday night."

Nurse Sandy came in with tears in her eyes. She could finally cry. It was okay to cry when the news was good. She turned around to go to get the doctor.

The doctor went over Potee, checking everything he could check.

"You'll live, but can I make a suggestion, son?"

"You're my doctor, you can do anything you like," Potee said.

"Don't ride any more broncs. You're lucky to be alive. I need some sleep. I haven't slept since you came in here, and I'm going to sleep for the rest of the week."

"Doc," Del said, as the doctor's eyes opened wide.

"I told you I'd buy this place and fire your ass. I didn't mean it, but if I did buy it, I'd give you a big fat raise."

Del laughed.

The doctor smiled and promptly left the room.

*****

The helicopter landed on the lawn beside the chow hall. Cowboys stood all around, wanting to get a glimpse at one of their own. Potee was in the hospital ten days and Del hired the local emergency helicopter service to get Potee back to the Lazy R.

Cowboys smiled and laughed, and Pardo was upstairs getting the hospital bed ready for Potee to go in it. It was in the television and weight room. Potee was home and he felt good being there. Del stood beside Cookie who stood beside Pardo as Potee looked at them.

"What?" Potee said.

"You finally decided to come home," Cookie said. "Now you might need that pots and pans job I've been holding open for you."

Everyone laughed.

It would be a long time before Potee did anything. He hadn't walked yet, and after so many days on his back, he was weak and he lost a ton of weight. He'd been on a liquid diet because of the damage done to him. Everything needed to heal up from having a horse walk on him.

Pardo and Del drove back while they were preparing Potee for the flight and they got back an hour before the helicopter landed. Everyone knew when Potee was coming home. He settled into a routine of watching television, eating Cookie's meals, and Cookie cooked whatever Potee wanted. At first his appetite was slight and while he felt like he wanted to eat it all, after a few bites, he'd be done.

After a week, Pardo came in one morning and started moving his bed.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"You'll see," Pardo said, pushing the bed next to the window.

"I was watching The View," Potee objected.

Pardo pulled up the window blind and threw open the window.

Standing on the lawn next to the chow hall, Thunder whinnied.

"Thunder. Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" Potee said.

Thunder snorted at the idea of being called beautiful.

"He stopped eating two days ago. Tumbleweed has been putting him in the corral, but he hasn't been able to get him out of his stall. I told him we were going to see you, and he walked over with me.

"Damn horse is almost human," Del said from the door. "He isn't eating. You better get out of that bed and go take care of your horse or he's going to be a dead horse."

"I'll come down in a day or two," Potee told Thunder as the horse watched him. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you."

Potee hadn't felt much like getting up. Pardo stayed with him and took care of all his needs. A nurse came every day to tend to his needs, bathe him, and make sure his meds were kept up. He no longer hurt all over, but getting out of bed was a challenge. It took two days for him to go from sitting on the side of the bed to standing beside it.

His legs were weak and he couldn't walk downstairs. A few days later, Pardo picked him up and carried him downstairs, setting him in his wheelchair. He wheeled the chair out on the lawn and Pardo went to bring Thunder over so Potee could touch him. He needed to touch his horse and let him know he hadn't forgotten him and things were slowly coming back.

It took nearly a year and Thunder and Topper were often brought out to lounge with Pardo and Potee. Del put Chachuka to work as acting foreman. He didn't expect Pardo to leave Potee. They'd nearly lost the kid and Del realized how damn lucky they were to still have him. He did a lot of things without giving much thought to the people or their feelings, but that was changing. He had a good life and he needed to treat the people who made it good like they were special to him.

Pardo was like his brother and Potee was like his son. He raised him from a colt after all.

*****

Potee sat in his wheelchair and Pardo sat next to him. They held hands, while Thunder laid in the grass in front of them and Topper grazed on the lush grass a few feet away. Cowboys stopped to tell Potee how good he looked and how he was missed on the range.

Pardo knew Potee was still loosing weight and he looked terrible. He appreciated men who did what they could to encourage their injured comrade. Potee smiled and was glad for the lies.

"I love you so much. I wish I could show you how much," Potee said. "I can't get hard."

"We have a lifetime to love each other. The only thing I want you to do is get well. Dr Anderson says you should start to walk before too much longer. You need to exercise your legs. He says there is no reason you won't eventually heal. Besides, having a break from trying to keep up with you might mean me living for a few extra years."

Potee laughed. He'd never known Pardo not to be able to keep up with him. They were as well matched in that department as he could imagine it was possible to be.

"I know," Potee said. "I was thinking. I want to buy Devil Wind. Give him a home where he can just be a regular horse. I want him to know that everyone isn't going to hurt him. Can I buy him? I have plenty of money."

"No. I'm afraid not, Potee. That's one thing I cannot do for you."

"You say you'll give me anything I ask you to. I want to buy Devil Wind."

"I'm in love with an amazing guy. You can still surprise me. Del shot Devil Wind right after we left the arena. Del heard that Devil Wind stomped another cowboy in Kansas City. If they put him down after he went for that cowboy, he couldn't have hurt you. Del put him down."

Potee was shocked, until he realized that would be Del's first impulse. He was a passionate man. He was so angry, it's the only thing he could think of to do. Potee related to wild things who had been mistreated. Devil Wind couldn't be made to suffer any longer.

"I want to go riding?" Potee said, having the urge to ride Thunder.

"Show me you can walk, and we'll go riding."

Potee stood up. Thunder immediately stood up. Potee reached out and Thunder moved so he could lean on him.

"Good boy, Thunder. You do read my mind, don't you?"

He took a few steps and was exhausted and he sat down and forgot about walking for a few days. Pardo carried him downstairs each day and put him in his chair. Cookie brought out snacks and sandwiches and he stood to talk. During the day Thunder and Topper came and went from the stables. Neither was closed in their stall except at night. It was too easy for horses to get spooked in the dark, and it was better to have them in their stall.

They ate dinner with Del two or three times a week. He didn't feel as easy about Chachuka running things, but he did a good job and Del had no complaints. Chachuka wasn't Pardo. That was the only complaint, and Pardo would not leave Potee. He'd come close to losing him and he wanted to be with him all the time.

"How much do I have if you paid me off, Del," Pardo asked one night at dinner.

"Paid you off. My God, I'd need to sell the place. I was offered ten million five years ago before we added the Stokes two thousand acres. I had three thousand cows. We got five thousand now. Pardo, you know what kind of fix that would put me in if you want to sell out?"

"I want a vacation. I need a few thousand dollars. Maybe we'd be gone for two or three months. Can you give me that much?"

Your share is probably five million Giving you a few thousand and a few months off is way different than, 'How much is my share.'"

"You know what I mean, Del. I'm a cowboy. I don't want to go anywhere. I want money so we can go away. Be together and not have a worry in the world."

"I hate to tell you, Pardo. It's been nearly a year and neither of you have done a lick of work. I haven't said word one. You can do anything you want. The ranch wouldn't be here if you hadn't given me the money to pay off my creditors all those years ago."

"I didn't give you that much. It was your idea to give me a piece of the place. I never asked you for that," Pardo said.

"No, you didn't, but you should have, and that's why I made it official. Whatever you want, Pardo. I need you. You make this place run," Del said.

"Chachuka is a better cowboy than Rowdy ever was. He knows things I don't know about this land. He can do anything you need done. Once more, I trust him, Del."

"I don't understand him. He's an Indian," Del said, not knowing how to say what it was he wanted to say.

"Oh, my god. Break out the N word, why don't you, Del? You should be ashamed of yourself," Potee said.

"Indians know stuff, sense stuff. I watch him in the middle of the herd. He stops his horse, gets off, and he takes tobacco out of the pouch he carries. He spreads it. I think he is praying. He gets on his horse and rides away."

"It's his way of respecting them. He wouldn't be here if they hadn't been here. That means something to an Indian," Pardo said. "His ancestors live in his genes. They were here 10,000 years or more. How long have white folks been here?" Potee asked.

"Long enough to get the land away from the Shoshone," Del said.

"He'll make sure your cows are safe and sound, Del. I made him my trail boss because he's the best cowboy I have," Pardo said.

"Your best cowboy is an Indian?" Del quizzed.

Potee laughed.

"I just don't know how to talk to him. He's your man. We were cowboys together, Pardo. I never had any trouble figuring out what was on your mind," Del said. "We thought the same way."

"Just ask him, Del. He speaks better English than I do. He graduated from college before he came here to be a cowboy. It's his relationship to the earth that had him coming back to where he worked on the land. When I come back, he's going to be my right hand man."

"That's fine. You can explain to me how he knows what he knows."

"Invite him to dinner. I'll ask him how he knows what he knows," Pardo said.

"They've been here for ten thousand years," Potee said. "That tells you something."

"I doubt he's been here quite that long," Del said.

Pardo laughed.

"I want to go to California. I want to learn to surf. I want to get a tan and feel the sand between my toes," Potee said. "I might like it. I might want to stay near the ocean."

"You going to wear that hat while you surf. You never take that thing off. Can you surf in cowboy boots, Potee?" Del asked.

"Reminds me I'm a cowboy. I could forget lying around here. I don't want to forget," Potee said with a different feeling than that of the man who wanted to try surfing at least once.

"Take the time you want. Ten thousand do you? I'll go to the bank and get you cash. You can go for as long as you want, but please don't stay out there. I need you two. You're my best cowboys. I'd sleep better with the two of you on the job," Del explained.

"If he wants to stay out there, we'll do what he wants. I want to come back to the Lazy R. It's all I know. I'm not sure about living near an ocean. I can find plenty of sand on the high prairie. Can't be that different from California sand."

Del was true to his word and he brought ten thousand dollars from the bank in hundred dollar bills. Potee had brochures, maps, and all the Beach Boy CDs. He made a plan for where they'd start and where they'd end up, and they'd just go until they got tired of doing.

Potee lifted weights and walked up and down the stairs. Pardo got the truck gone over, the oil changed, and he bought all new tires. They ate with Del each evening, and they rode Thunder and Topper out onto the range to give their horses exercise.

"You are a man among men, Pardo. I love you so much," Potee said, after a roll in the hay.

"It gets better, doesn't it. I mean we didn't do it for so long, and then it's like we're falling in love all over again. I love you. I'll do anything you ask me to do," Pardo stole Potee's line.

"I'm your man," Potee said, kissing Pardo's chest.

"Are we an old married couple, Pardo? I don't know what old feels like."

"You might be old. I ain't old," Pardo protested.

Potee stroked his hair and looked at his face.

"You're a beautiful man, Pardo. I always thought you were beautiful from the first time I saw you sitting on Topper, watching me walk into your life. That was a lifetime ago."

"It was a while. Lots of water over that dam."

Potee watched his lover's face. He felt good. He started to feel good again.

"A penny for your thoughts," Potee said. "Where'd you go?"

Pardo was thinking about a word someone used while he was at the hospital. It was a word he never gave a thought to. Words weren't as important to him as they might be, but this word had come from Nurse Sandy. She'd been as kind to Pardo as anyone had ever been. She'd told him a story he didn't understand or relate to, but he'd given it some thought.

"Remember Nurse Sandy?"

"She walked beside me while they were putting me in the helicopter. She leaned to kiss my forehead just before we took off. I told her we'd come back to see her," Potee said fondly.

"She told me a story about her brother. He sings and performs in something called dinner theater. She told me about the man he's with. He's a hairdresser. Does Ryan's hair. That's her brother. What she said was, 'My brother is gay too. He's a slob, but I love him. He has the voice of an angel.' Is that what we are, Potee?"

"I don't know, Pardo. I'm a cowboy. I think I was born to be a cowboy. You take all I went through to get here, to find you, and you want to use a three letter word to sum it up. No. There's only one word that describes me, you, and our life. I'm a cowboy."

Pardo laughed.

He was a cowboy. No word could say it better. Cowboys were a breed a part. Most cowboys were born that way. A cowboy loves his horse. He loves freedom. At times, he even loved the cows.

Cowboy was a single word, but there was a lifetime of living in those six letters.

"That is who we are. We're cowboys, Potee. I've never doubted it."

Words were funny things. Names were funny things. People thought they could explain you with a word like gay, but what does it mean to be gay? There were a million ways to be. Potee knew it was about the people. The people who raised him had no feeling for him. The people he met once Pardo found him along side the road that ran past the Lazy R were the only family he ever had.

People came in all colors, types, and styles. Everyone looked relatively similar, until you scratched the surface, and what was beneath the surface was beyond description. You couldn't describe anyone in a word.

If he had to describe Pardo and him with a word, the word would be cowboy.

*****

The red pickup truck sat in the road beside Del's house.

"You're going to call me once in a while. I'll worry about you. Be careful. There are really crazy drivers out there. They've got no sense at all. You have everything you need? You got enough money?"

"Del, we're fine. I'll call you once a week. I'll be careful. The love of my life is going to be right beside me. I won't let anything happen to him. You know that."

"Yeah, I do. Give me a hug. Be careful," Del said.

Potee hugged Del after Pardo hugged him. It was like leaving family to go on a trip. Del stood and waved as the red pickup truck drove down the Lazy R road toward the highway.

It had been a year and a half of rest and recuperation, but Potee was back on his feet and looking better than ever. He'd even gained a few pounds. He ran every day and lifted weights. He was going to be OK, and Del figured he'd be OK too as he walked into the house.

The next morning, Del was in the kitchen making coffee just before seven. He heard the horses close to the hose. Most of the cowboys took the trail behind the corral to go out to the range. These horses were closer than that. He carried his cup of coffee to the door with him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, throwing the door open.

"Getting ready to go out on the range," Pardo said.

"What happened to the vacation. You going to California. He wants to surf."

"I can surf some other time. I'm a cowboy. I told Pardo, what are we doing? We're cowboys. I decided it was time for me to get back to work. I want to be on the Lazy R."

"We turned around just west of Rock Springs," Pardo said. "We want to see some cows, drink strong coffee, and eat cold beans. It's what cowboys do, Del. Oh, here. Put this back where you got it."

Pardo handed Del a large envelope.

"We'd like to hang around here and talk, but we got work to do," Potee said."

Del Champion's coffee leaked out on his right slipper, while he looked into the envelope with a hundred crisp new hundred dollar bills. Del watched the two cowboys mount their horses and ride toward the trail they'd take out to the range.

He was watching his two best cowboys going back to work.

Everything was going to be okay.

The End


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