Free Lone Star by Josh Lanyon Page B

good.”
    “Yeah, it is.”
    Mitch drowsed awhile, but he began to wonder how long before Web had to leave, and once the idea came to him, sleep fled.
    Web said softly, almost inaudibly, “If you want I’ll take you out to see your daddy’s grave.”
    Mitch opened his eyes, but he didn’t see the old, worn wooden furniture of the bedroom.
    “No?”
    “I don’t know.”
    Web smoothed the hair back from his forehead. It felt good to be touched like that, petted. To be appreciated with nothing asked in return. Nothing he wouldn’t be willing to give in a heartbeat if it was asked.
    Getting someone to ask. That was the hard part.
    “Mitch?”
    “Hm?”
    “What happened that night?”
    Unexpectedly, the old hurt and bitterness came flooding back. Mitch closed his eyes. “You were there. I wanted to come out. I wanted everybody to know we were together. I wanted us to start planning a life together.” He expelled a long breath. “You said no.”
    Silence.
    Web’s voice was very low. “What happened when you got home that night?”
    Mitch closed his eyes again. “I told my father I was gay. He…told me to get out. I did. Turned out you were right all along.”
    “Why didn’t you come to me?”
    Why didn’t you come to me in Austin? “I guess you don’t remember the things you said.”
    “I remember. I never said I didn’t love you. I never said I didn’t want us to be together. How could you just leave like that? Without a word?”
    Mitch sat up, pulling away from Web. He impatiently combed the tangle of hair out of his eyes. “You said it would be a mistake. You said it would ruin everything. That we’d destroy both our futures. You said people would hate us. That we’d be lucky if we didn’t get run out of town.”
    “I was afraid,” Web admitted. “But I—”
    “And it turned out you had good reason to be. You were right, Web. For you. It worked out okay in the end. You got everything you wanted. I got everything I wanted.”
    “Did you?”
    “Sure. Of course.” Mitch sprang off the mattress and headed for the bathroom and the shower. “I smell like a horse. Are you stayin’ for breakfast?”
    The mattress squeaked loudly. Web got to the doorway first, blocking it. His hands closed on Mitch’s shoulders. “You always were too goddamned hotheaded for your own good, Mitch. You were wrong to run away all those years ago. I was comin’ around to your view of things. You didn’t give me a chance to tell you.”
    Mitch stared up into Web’s face. Twelve years was a long time. A lot of things had changed. Twelve years ago Web couldn’t have belonged to the Texas Rangers and been out in any way, shape or form. Web had forgotten how adamant he’d been that they keep their secret, but the fact that he sincerely believed he’d have stood by Mitch did, in a funny way, go a ways toward healing that old hurt.
    After all, Web had only been twenty-two. Not so very old, though he had seemed the epitome of confident, tough maturity to eighteen-year-old Mitch.
    So Mitch smiled. “I guess we’re both older and wiser now.” He raised his face for Web’s kiss.
     
    After Mitch’s shower he wandered into the kitchen to find Web had made breakfast. Arroz con leche. Sweetened condensed milk, rice, and raisins. It was usually served for dessert, but Mitch had always loved it for breakfast and it touched him that Web remembered.
    But then, why not? Mitch remembered what Web used to like for breakfast. Ham steak and fried eggs and buttermilk biscuits with gravy, though hopefully he wasn’t clogging his adult arteries up with that on a regular basis.
    “I’ll be lucky if I can walk, let alone perform a grand jete by the time I go back to New York.” Mitch spooned in a mouthful and closed his eyes at the sweet mix of cinnamon and sugar.
    Web spoke over his coffee cup. “You probably don’t weigh one-seventy soppin’ wet.”
    “I weigh a lot more than you think. And I’m very strong.” You had to