The Farmer's Son

Chapter 7 In The Dirt

When Ray looked up, it was into sparkling sugar colored eyes, and a halo of sun bleached hair around a bronzed grinning face. Alan's skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, and a shining drop hung on the tip of his nose.

"That all you got, Cowboy?" Alan panted, grinning, his voice low and breathy.

But the look of Ray's slightly hooded lids made the grin slip from Alan's face, and he stared, mesmerized, at the blue eyes below him, sparkling like ocean waves in sunlight.

Ray, breathing through slightly parted lips, finally spoke. "You're heavy," he said, his voice barely heard over the cawing of the crows.

"Sorry," Alan replied. He didn't move, but his gaze flicked to the hand he pinned. "You're bleeding."

Ray followed his glance to the hand with his split knuckles, the scrapes covered in dirt and dust. Their gazes returned to each other, bright gleaming blue and sparkling sugar-colored eyes meeting under the call of crows in the shadow of the barn. Ray took a breath and opened his mouth, but just then Bear, at the corner of the house, gave two short barks. Instantly Alan swung himself off Ray.

Moments later Noah came around the corner behind the dog. "What you boys doing?" he called, seeing Ray and Alan on the ground. "Don't be fighting in the dirt like hooligans."

"Is it the fighting or the dirt you mind?" Ray called, dusting off his clothes as he stood.

"I mind that smart mouth of yours," Noah said. "We're heading back. Pick up Alan."

"It's all friendly," Ray said. He reached out a hand to Alan and smiled. "Right?"

"Friendly," Alan said, clasping the damp palm, and feeling strong fingers close over his hand. Ray pulled, bringing him up and almost level with ocean-colored eyes. "But costly. You owe me a phone."

"That was a draw," Ray said.

"It was not," Alan said, as they began walking back to the truck.

"Your Pa interrupted," Ray said, moving ahead. "I call that interference, and that means disqualification. But if you want a rematch, you know where to find me." Walking backwards, he flashed Alan a grin. "Cheater."

Alan pushed him, and Ray laughed. Turning around, he moved ahead to join Noah, but Alan hung back, the heat still in his face, and his heart still pounding in his chest, remaining long after they returned to their farm.

*

"Beer?"

Ray, sitting on the edge of his bed pulling on his work boots, looked up to see Alan standing in the bedroom doorway, holding two bottles of beer and a white box. They had returned to the farm not too long ago, and he was about to tackle some of the outside painting. "Are you allowed?" Ray asked.

"Excuse me?" Alan asked, laughing and raising his brows. "We drink early around here."

"Do you mean time or age?"

"Both," Alan said, coming in. He held out a bottle to Ray. "A peace offering," he said. "For beating you so soundly earlier."

Ray gave him a hard look, and Alan chuckled mischievously. "Can you though?" Ray asked, with a pointed look at the beer bottle.

"It's fine," Alan said. "Just don't tell Pa."

"So, not fine," Ray said. "What else don't you tell him?"

Alan met the blue eyes, then smiled. "Are all cowboys so strict about rules?"

"Yes," Ray said. "We're the most rule abiding type in the world."