Fields of Gold Part Four

[deansdarkdream]

 
Dedication: To my Angels. I love you with every beat of my heart.
Title: Fields of Gold
Authors: DDD, L, and A
Pairings: Dean/Sam, Sam/Zane/Dean/Chris
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Based on a RL love story. Ecstasy, angst, tragedy and triumph.
Disclaimer: We don't own Dean, Sam or Cas.
Summary: Dean Winchester is the manager of the Castlewood Equine Estate. He has many men willing to warm his bed but he longs for the one who will warm his heart. Sam Stivaletti works at his family's Italian restaurant and dreams of the man who will will give him the love he has always craved. Dean and Sam have already discovered a great mutual passion between them. Could it become true love?
A/N: Dean goes back on the Gran Prix circuit. Saddle up my friends, it is going to be a wild ride! Love DDD

Fields of Gold
Part Four

We had a wonderful summer. Sam and I just got better and better. There was so much more to living with someone than I had imagined when I asked him to move in. Some of it was silly stuff, like clothes. It gave Maria fits trying to keep it all of them straight. When she first started doing our joint laundry, she'd sort it by what she knew to be my clothes, but after while, she got confused and finally gave up entirely. She hung all shirts in one closet, all pants in another and did the same in the two big dressers a drawer for socks, one for underwear, another for t-shirts. It turned out to be a great system and shaved some time off getting dressed in the morning. That extra five minutes is all you need for a quick blow job.

We fell into an easy pattern of getting ready in the morning, rolling out of bed early to run, showering together, eating a quick breakfast on the patio, then a goodbye kiss as he went out the front door to his car and I ran down to the barn to saddle Xia.

We usually checked in with each other during the day to finalize dinner plans or social invitations, like the one from Chris and Zane a few weeks after the pool party. I hadn't realized it, but Chris hadn't fucked around with Sam since before he and Zane got together four years ago, and Zane had never been with him. Turns out Zane had been somewhat taken by Sam at the birthday party and wanted to get together with us.

I called Sam. "Hey, stud, we've been invited to Chris and Zane's for an evening of 'socializing.’"  I emphasized the last word and he was silent for a moment.

"Yeah?  Whaddaya think?"

I tried to gauge his interest from his voice, but couldn't read him one way or the other. "I'm up for it if you are. They’re fun to be with and apparently Zane liked what he saw of you at the pool party."

"He saw all of me."

"Yes, I believe that was his point exactly," I said dryly.

He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, okay. When?"

“Saturday.”  We talked another couple of minutes, and then I called Chris back with a yes. He told me to make Zane's day by letting him know when he showed up at the barn. I kept an eye out for him and when I saw his truck pull in, I angled over to intercept him on the way to the south barn. He looked good slouching along in his old Wranglers and a beat up pair of Tony Lamas with a straw hat shading his face.

“Hey, cowboy. We’re on for Saturday.”

“Awright.” he said, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “Y'okay with that?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Well, ya’ll only been together couple months. Sometimes it takes a spell for the honeymoon to wear off.”

“We’ve been together eight years, one way or another. Anyway, it’ll be fun. Sam’s incredible in bed.”

“Yeah, you been lookin’ mighty satisfied lately. Figured it must be his doin'.”  I followed him into the tack room and wasn’t surprised when he curled a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me to him for a wet, lusty kiss. “Ah been missin’ you.”  He kissed me again, ran his hand down from my neck to pinch my left nipple lightly, and turned to get his roping saddle off the rack.

I haltered Cher for him, put her in the cross ties, adjusted myself, and went off to ride one of Abby’s new jumpers, a five-year-old with plenty of ability, but a short attention span. We worked over three foot fences until he began to get the idea that I was the one calling the shots. My cell phone rang as I was handing him off to one of the boys.

“Dean!”  Chloe sounded frantic and I wondered if something had happened to one of the horses she was campaigning this season.

“Chloe!"  I hollered back at her. "Something wrong?”

“Goddamn right something’s wrong!” Chloe had married into one of Houston’s oldest oil families and remade herself from a girl from the wrong side of the tracks into a society belle. She had the clothes, the hair, the car, and the house, but she also still had the mouth she’d grown up with and she cursed like a sailor.

“Simon broke his motherfucking leg!”  Simon was her rider, the guy who currently had her horses standing 3rd and 6th on the circuit. Top notch riders don’t grow on trees so this was a disaster.

“Jesus, what happened?”

“He fell off the cocksucking horse, what else?”

I smothered a laugh and gave up, figuring I could get the details later. “Okay, so you want me to try to find you someone else?   Let me call --”

“No!"  She cut me off. "I want you!”

I was speechless for a moment. “Me?  Chloe, I haven’t ridden competitively in years.”

“I don’t care. You know the horses and you ride all the time. You used to be great. And you owe me half a season. Pleeease?”

I closed my eyes for a second and imagined galloping around the arena, soaring over 6 foot spreads like I had wings. I had loved riding jumpers for a living and was surprised by how much I wanted to say yes, but I had Sam now, the stable to run, too much to do.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me make a few calls. If I can’t find you someone really good, I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you!  I knew you’d do it.”

“I’m not doing anything yet. I’ll call you when I know something.”

It was all I could think about the rest of the day. Chloe was offering me another chance. The season was about 3/4 over and Simon’s leg wouldn’t heal that quickly. That meant seven or eight events, all over the country, unless I could find her someone else, but the chances of that were slim. Thanks to Sam’s insistence that I continue my shoulder exercises, it was stronger than ever and I had no doubt that it would hold up for a few months of competitive riding. It meant lots of traveling, being away from Castlewood and Sam for long weekends. But, God, I really wanted to do it.

Sam found me on the patio, staring off at the distant tree line with a forgotten glass of wine dangling from one hand. “Earth to Dean. Hello.”

I glanced up with a start. “Sorry, I was thinking. Hi, babe.”  I stood and hugged him, enjoying the feel of his hard body pressing into mine.

“About what?”  He sat down next to me, taking my free hand in his.

I blew out a breath. “An offer Chloe made me.”  I told him about it, gazing out across the pasture as I spoke, not looking at him until I finished. He was watching me closely, his intense eyes roaming over my face.

“Don’t call around. Do it. Call her back and say yes.”  He squeezed my hand for emphasis.

“Are you sure?  I’d be gone a lot.”

“She has a jet, right?”

“Yes . . . ”

“Good. Take me along. I haven’t traveled much and I’d get to see you ride. But no crashing, I don’t want to go through that again.”

“Jesus, neither do I. You really wanna go?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?  We’d be together, I’d get to see some more of the country, and I’d get to watch you do something you love, second only to me.”  He smiled as he spoke. It was true; it had been taken away from me and I’d never looked back because it had been too painful. I hadn’t even watched the handful of events that were televised each year.

I looked at him. “I really want to do it.”

“I know you do, Dean. You should see your face when you talk about it. Call her.”  He let go of my hand and pushed it toward the cell on my belt. I watched him as the call connected and he smiled when he heard Chloe whoop at the other end. When I flipped my phone shut, he stood. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

We ate and went down to the jungle pool to float around 'til bed time. “When’s the next event and what do you have to do to get ready?” he asked.

“Early September. Luckily there’s a three week break right now. I need all new clothes, I guess. New boots and hard hat. All my old stuff got used up around the barn over the years. I’ll have to see if my saddle is okay. Polish my spurs. I’ll need to start riding another couple hours a day. That shouldn’t be a problem with Abby’s new horses here now. I’ll have to get James more dialed in to run the stable while I’m gone, and maybe hire another trainer.”

“Isn’t this what Cas does?   You’ll be riding against him, right?”

“Huh, yeah. I hadn’t even thought of that. That’ll be weird.”

Later in bed he asked me the thing that I’d been asking myself since Chloe's call. “Do you think you’re competitive?  With the people riding now, I mean?”

I rolled to my back and stared at the ceiling with a sigh. “I think so. I was pretty damn good before I got hurt and the game hasn’t changed a whole lot in seven years. I guess maybe my reactions might be a little slower but I have a lot more experience now. I don’t know.”  I rolled back to him. “Will you still love me even if I don't win?”

He climbed onto me, pinning me with his full weight. “I will always love you, even if you’re a loser.”

I laughed and bucked hard, trying to unload him but he hung on and our struggle became rough foreplay when he grabbed my wrists and held on tight as he forced his leg between mine, shoving his stiff penis down between my legs and stroking hard beneath my balls. As the sensations became more intense, I quit fighting against him and fought instead to get my leg out from under his so I could raise it. When he let go of my arms I reached down and grabbed his ass in both hands, pulling him tight against me. We thrust quickly until he pushed off me and turned around, throwing a leg over me so that his cock dropped into my waiting mouth. He pulled my legs back, sucked my balls for a moment, then ran his tongue down to my asshole and dove in. I shoved a pillow behind my head and followed suit.

I used to get distracted 69ing, slacking off on my end of things when it got to feeling too good, but over the years, I learned to channel what I was feeling into what I was doing, and now it’s one of my favorite things. I closed my eyes and tuned into the motions of his tongue, the long glides, the short hard thrusts, the sounds. Now and then he’d bite me and my cock lurched hard with each nip. Some time later, he pulled away from me, re-positioned himself, grabbed my ankles and pushed his dick into me abruptly enough to make me gasp. He slowed the minute he was in, watching me closely. I pulled him down and kissed him roughly, biting his lip and shoving my tongue down his throat. He began to pump quickly, his balls banging into my ass with every thrust. I continued to ravage his mouth as I grabbed my dick and started stroking hard. We both finished quickly, me a little ahead of him. As I tugged a 3rd shot out of my tingling nuts, Sam took several short strokes just barely inside me, groaning with each one, and I felt his cock throb as he climaxed.

He dropped down onto me, still twitching, and sighed deeply. “Christ, that was good. I wonder why some times are so much stronger than others. If we could bottle it, we’d be millionaires.”

“Honey, we already are millionaires,” I reminded him.

“You might be. I’m just a meatball chef.”

I lay there for a second, then pushed him off me and sat up. We had never discussed money and I'd been meaning to tell him something, but was unsure how he’d take it. “No, you’re a millionaire, too. As of last Friday.”

He stared at me, then narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”

“Several things. I had Robert revise my will; you’re a major beneficiary now, along with my folks and a few other people. I opened a joint checking account for us with a starting balance of $50k. All the paperwork and the checks are in your office. I also had him add you to the Castlewood bank accounts. You have to sign some forms and signature cards.”  I paused for effect. “And I had Chris transfer a million dollars worth of stocks into your name, with your parents as beneficiaries.”

“Jesus, Dean. Why?”

“Well, I have a lot more money than you and I don’t want it to be an issue between us, so I just made the playing field a little more level.”

“Our relationship isn’t about money.” His voice was beginning to sound angry.

“Relax, for Christ's sake. I know it’s not. But I wanted to do it. It’s one of the few things I can do for you that can have a real impact on your life. It’s for my peace of mind, too. Money can be a real problem in a relationship, especially when there’s a big difference in who has it and who doesn’t. I don't care what the fuck you do with it. You can give it all to charity if you want. Please take it in the spirit I meant it." I tipped his chin up so that he met my eyes. "Please.”  We looked at each other for a long moment, me willing him to understand, and him looking first defiant, then bewildered. Finally his face dissolved into a reluctant smile.

“I’m really a millionaire?”

“Yup. Wanna go look at the papers?”  His smile got wider, so I pulled him off the bed and down the hall to his desk, where I handed him the stock transfer confirmation with his name as the account holder. He looked it over, his smile a toothy grin now.

“Fuck!”  He looked at me. “I don’t know what to say. ‘Thank you’ doesn’t quite seem to cover it, somehow.”

I laughed at him. “You're welcome. And one more thing, I got the hots for a new car, so I thought we’d go shopping Saturday. Whaddaya say?  Ready to trade in that pile you’re driving?”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, God, I saw a black BMW the other day that made my dick hard. Really?”

“Yes, baby, really. Come on.”  We crawled back into bed and I fell asleep to the sight of Sam staring at the ceiling with a big smile on his face.

We spent Saturday doing the car dealerships, coming away with a black BMW M convertible for Sam and a dark grey Lexus SC 430 for me. I figured the owner of a stable as upscale as Castlewood couldn't drive around in a beater pick up anymore. We stopped for lunch on the way back, admiring our new rides in the parking lot of the restaurant. Sam hadn’t quit grinning since we drove away from the dealership and could barely stand to go in and eat. We switched cars for the rest of the drive so we could see how our own looked rolling down the road. We spent the afternoon playing in the pool and wandering into the garage every now and then to grin like teenagers at our cool new cars.

In the late afternoon, we went inside to get cleaned up for our evening with Zane and Chris. Sam was lathering up in the shower when I climbed in with him. “I’ll do that,” I said, taking the razor from him. I sat on the bench and carefully shaved from the base of his dick on back, leaving a tidy patch above his cock. That was the first time I had shaved him and it was hot; I was hard the whole time. Evidently he thought so too, trading places with me eagerly. He started to play but I stopped him, wanting to save it for tonight.

Chris hollered from the back yard when he heard us pull in. They met us at the gate and I hugged them both. Sam hugged Chris, then turned to Zane who stepped close to him, leaned in and kissed him on the mouth.

Chris laughed and rolled his eyes. “God, Zane, don’t be shy.”  Zane smiled but didn’t take his eyes off Sam for a moment.

We got beers and sat around watching Zane grill steaks. Dinner was leisurely as we chatted. Our shopping trip came up so we all trooped out front to inspect Sam’s Beemer while he tried not to smile too much. You’d think he’d designed the damn thing himself, but I knew he was just thrilled. The restaurants turned a decent profit but he would never have splurged on a car like this. I loved seeing how happy he was with it.

After dinner, we played in the pool for a while. Zane was the first to lose his suit, tossing it out onto the concrete, then swimming over to Sam and helping him off with his. I watched Sam's face as Zane grabbed the edge of the pool on either side of him. He smiled as Zane closed in, opening his mouth to Zane's tongue, and through the blue shimmer of the water I saw Sam’s hand close around Zane's hard cock, making my own dick lurch as if he'd grabbed me. As they deepened the kiss, Sam's eyes dropped closed, as I had watched them do so many times when he kissed me.

I looked away to find Chris watching me and I gave him a half smile. He reached down a hand to haul me out of the pool, wrapped a brawny arm around my shoulders and pulled me down onto a chaise, out of the line of sight to Zane and Sam. He pushed me flat and lay half on me, one muscular thigh between mine, studying my face for a moment before kissing me hungrily. It took a minute, but the affectionate warmth of him eased me and I began to return the kiss, sucking his tongue into my mouth. Chris's big hand worked its way slowly across my chest, thumbing my nipple to hardness, tugging it gently until I broke the kiss to arch my head back with a groan and grind my dick up into his leg. His cock hardened against my hip as he returned the pressure and I reached for him, running the heel of my hand firmly down his erection until I had a handful of balls. Chris exhaled with an 'uhhh' against my neck and rolled his pelvis into my hand several times before glancing over his shoulder.

Zane had maneuvered Sam over to the pool steps and was hanging onto his knees with Sam’s cock down his throat. Chris sat up, pulling me with him and gave me a little push. I went to them and sat behind Sam, rubbing his chest and hugging him to me so I could stroke my stiff prick up his back. He wrapped his arms around my legs and leaned back into me while I watched Zane blow him. I put a hand on Zane's head, sliding my fingers through his wet, wavy hair; feeling him move up and down on Sam. My earlier mood was gone. I knew Zane and Chris were as committed to each other as Sam and I were. This evening was for fun; our lives together were for keeps. At that moment, Sam tipped his head back to kiss me, moaning into my mouth as he came in Zane's fist.

After that we took it inside and soon Zane was bent over the back of the couch as Sam knelt behind him, giving him the full treatment. If Zane could have managed to open his eyes, he would have seen Chris sucking me slowly on the couch. Chris is a buff guy, all mounds of muscle. I always feel a little overwhelmed by Chris; not in a negative sense, but there’s just so much of him. I can barely get my arms around his shoulders and his meaty ass fills my spread hands. By the time Sam stood up and slid his cock into an almost delirious Zane, Chris was lifting my ass into his lap to do the same to me. Chris had a dick the size of Sam’s so I was enjoying myself and had to assume Sam was as well. He groaned harshly as Sam entered him, then reached down to take my cock in one hand, stroking slowly.

Group sex is a lot different than just the two of you; not just more things to play with, but the whole experience. I probably think about it too much, but I find it really exciting as a change of pace. Unfamiliar moans, different ways of being touched than what you’re used to. Knowing Sam was nearby, but not with me, was also arousing, despite my moment in the pool. I know some people have a hard time with that concept, but we know where our hearts are and who they belong to, no matter who we're with, and the sight of him doing Zane contributed as much to my rock hard erection as did Chris's cock sucking techniques. Anyway, it all usually adds up to a ball buster of a first orgasm for me and tonight was no exception.

Sam grinned at me for a quick second, then ducked his head, tilted his hips, and got serious about making Zane suffer. I could tell from the look of concentration on Sam’s face and the almost painful intensity on Zane’s, that Zane’s prostate was getting a workout. Zane trembled repeatedly as he got closer, hanging onto the back of the couch with a death grip. Sam angled down a little more, changed to short quick thrusts, and that was the end of Zane. He came in long ropey streams of cum, impressive as any porn star, crying out with each burst. Sam stuck with him until Zane collapsed over the back of the couch, then he slid free and walked around to put one knee on the cushion behind Chris.

He poured some lube over Chris's ass, buried a finger briefly, then worked his way in quickly. Chris stopped moving in me while he adjusted to Sam's presence. Sam stroked quickly a few times to get things working, then Chris resumed fucking me. Chris moved between us, into me, back onto Sam. It took us a moment to get the rhythm going but once it was right, Chris began a constant sound that started as a low moan but worked up to a mid-range 'ahh.. ahh.. ahh' that got higher as he got closer. I've never been the middle guy in a chain fuck, but being on the receiving end was great. Sam starting moving harder, forcing Chris down onto me and in deeper. I was getting fucked by Chris, but I knew that every time he plowed into me, Sam was the driving force. It was wildly arousing and I had to fight like crazy to hold off 'til we were all ready.

After what seemed like forever, Chris reached his limit, pulled out of me and grabbed our cocks in one huge fist. He had a good touch and I started to shoot immediately, arching back into the pillows as I unloaded in several big spurts, which all landed well up my stomach and felt like a gallon's worth. Sam kept pumping until Chris was finished, pulled out and stepped next to me so that he could come on my stomach, which he did with bared teeth, growling his way through it, his face twisted with the intensity of his orgasm. Zane was still hanging over the back of the couch with a bird's eye view and grinned at us as we panted and gasped. We cleaned up, then jumped in the pool for another hour.

This time Chris took Zane’s hand and mine and led us back into the house; I grabbed Vincent on the way by and he slid a hand down my ass to goose me, grinning when I gave a little shriek and hopped out of his reach. Inside I pushed Chris down on the couch and knelt on the floor between his feet, taking his hardening dick into my mouth. Zane lay down on his back on the floor and slid under me to do the same. Sam climbed onto the couch with Chris, kissing him and rubbing his nipples while he kept the other hand on my head, ruffling softly through my hair as I blew Chris. After a bit, Sam pushed me off him and took over. Zane was still sucking me so I pulled out for a quick second, turned around above him and sunk my mouth down onto his cock. It didn't take us long, especially when Sam reached down from the couch and poked a slick finger up my ass. Zane and I came pretty close together, sucked each other dry, and collapsed on the floor.

When Chris got close, Sam straddled him, wrapping both his hands around their cocks, holding them together as he thrust in and out of his grip, fucking his hands and Chris’s cock. Chris lasted about six strokes in Sam's fists, then erupted in a geyser of cum, groaning deep in his big chest and gripping Sam’s thighs with white knuckles. Sam let himself go as soon as Chris started to shoot, pumping his way through a short but hard climax that left him shaking. He stood up, laughing weakly and wobbled back a couple steps, bending over to put his hands on his knees, breathing hard. “That’s three. I’m finished.”  A drop of sweat fell from his chin as I got up and went to him. He straightened and wrapped his arms around me, still trembling a little.

When we staggered out the door a while later, there were weary but sincere hugs and kisses all around. We drove home, showered quickly, and passed out.

In the morning I reached half heartedly for Sam, not the least bit put out when he mumbled, "I don't think I can."  I laughed and rolled over for another hour. With the Gran Prix right around the corner, I needed my beauty sleep anyway.

Monday afternoon I began talking with every Castlewood employee, one by one, getting a feel for them and the jobs they did, evaluating them with an owner's eye. I asked their thoughts on how we did things, their suggestions for improvements. There were some good ideas and I made a lot of notes that week, in preparation for the day Robert told me the transfer was complete.

I wanted to expand our range of operations and use the four barns more efficiently. The main barn, which held twenty-four horses, was almost always full. The south barn had stalls for twelve horses; it currently held only three of Zane’s horses, plus Xia and Cooper. The 12-stall mare motel was for pregnant mares but Castlewood wasn’t a breeding facility any longer so it could become a general purpose barn. We had a few stallions but they didn’t need a 6-stall barn to themselves.

I didn’t care for the lack of tolerance one riding discipline typically had for another, the way the dressage people had looked down on Zane when he first moved in here, and I wanted to add some western stuff to our curriculum. I thought Zane might be agreeable to doing some reining seminars, and since JD’s house was now empty, maybe have people stay for long weekends. It was big enough for eight people at two to a room. I’d just need another cook/housekeeper and made a note to check with Maria about that.

Zane’s daddy, Davis, was a hugely popular rodeo figure who would draw great crowds if we could get him here a couple times a year. Team penning and roping were also possibilities since we already had the steers and chutes. We’d need more bleachers around all the arenas, a larger designated area to park truck/trailer rigs for people who brought their own horses, and some sort of meeting room with kitchen facilities.

Faith wanted to host a series of horse care seminars, everything from recognizing the early stages of colic to emergency techniques. The local horse folks still called on her now and then when something happened that they couldn't cope with. Bella had an idea for a workshop to help backyard horse owners use their money more wisely, tricks we used around Castlewood to get more bang for our buck.

I was toying with the idea of building a show facility, a nice place for one day or weekend shows. Other than ShawPark, which was huge, there weren’t any other really nice places. There were a few small ones with ratty barns, no place to eat, and rocky arenas; so it seemed there was a need for a good show facility. Castlewood was down a ¾ mile lane from the main road so we had a big chunk of land out front that would be perfect.

I also wanted to have a big open house after the change of ownership was final and we’d had a chance to spruce things up a bit. All the wood on the buildings and fences was due for painting or staining; the concrete barn floors needed to be stripped, scrubbed and sealed again; trees needed to be trimmed, pastures re-seeded; etc, etc, etc. I planned to make it a big event with a sit-down brunch for prospective clients and have Sam cater it. I was just full of ideas.

I called Ernesto and James in to discuss getting started on the clean-up part and they were excited about the open house, catching some of my enthusiasm in making Castlewood better. Bella reported that the bank accounts were in great shape, clients paying on time, no deadbeats at the moment. We weren’t a cheap barn. It cost the better part of two thousand dollars a month to keep a horse here on a full training schedule, and that didn’t include vet or farrier bills. Xia and Cooper didn’t pay rent but everyone else did, so our gross income was healthy, and I knew I could trim expenses here and there. Bella had managed to secure a better deal on hay after the moldy alfalfa fiasco and we could probably get the per bale price down even lower with more horses to feed.

One place I wasn’t willing to skimp was wages so I got a current payroll list from Bella and went over it carefully. We had twelve employees James, Ernesto, Bella, and Faith, plus six guys and two girls who worked jointly for James and Ernesto, rotating through all the various tasks every six months so that everyone knew how to cover for everyone else, if necessary. Each employee had two days a week off, working one weekend a month, again on a rotating schedule.

By Wednesday, I felt pretty confidant that I could make some positive changes in the way we did things that would benefit everyone and liven things up a little. Knowing I could do whatever I wanted was very liberating. JD had always agreed to my ideas, but I’d still had to run things by him and get his approval. Now, as sole owner, if I wanted to, I could paint all the buildings pink, and make Daisy Dukes and tank tops the official Castlewood uniform, but luckily for all of us, the stuff I wanted to do made a lot more sense.

I went home to Sam that night content with life.

JD's memorial service was held on a hot morning at graveside in a cemetery in town. I knew a few of the large crowd of people, but most were strangers to me, and I realized that I had been a very small part of JD's life for a very short time, but a good part, I hoped. I did recognize a few other riders who must have come after me in JD's man-by-man conquest of the jumping world. One or two nodded to me, but we didn't speak and I sat through the ceremony quietly, reflecting on my months with JD.

Robert had everyone back to JD's city house for a reception, at JDs request, I'm sure. He always liked a party, even if he wasn't around to attend this one. I sipped an orange juice, chatted with a few people, and went home, subdued, but not really sad any longer. JD had enjoyed a good life and I hoped I could say the same when my time came.

Over the next few days, I became totally caught up in getting ready for the first Gran Prix. It had been my world for a lot of years and I was excited to get another crack at it, but I was also nervous as hell. At 30, I was older than most of the top riders, but I figured that made me smarter too, or so I told myself whenever I got the panicky urge to call Chloe and cancel. Sam tried to keep me calmed down, but he had never performed on a national level as I had, and finally threw up his hands and suggested Valium if I was going to act like a nut case until the damn horse show came and went. I snapped at him for referring to a Gran Prix as a 'horse show', but he kissed me quickly and distracted me by sticking his hand down my pants.

Chloe sent me a DVD of Simon's last several rides and the first time I watched it, something jumped out at me. Chloe had two horses on the circuit this season. They had fancy registered names, but she always gave her top horses barn names, so this season we had Minx and Kahn. Minx was 3rd in points right now, a nice Warmblood bay mare that tried hard and was reliable. Then there was Kahn. Chloe had picked him up cheap at a dispersal auction in a fit of I'm not sure what. Kahn was a dark bay Thoroughbred/draft cross, big, strong, and quick, but given to temper tantrums that made him a question mark in the ring. Still, Simon had him 6th in points. As I watched him take Kahn around the arena, I noticed that in between jumps, Kahn’s head swung from one side to the other, his ears waggling like crazy. I had ridden him a lot when Chloe first got him, and I had a few ideas on how to get more out of him.

I bought a few sets of show clothes and treated myself to a new pair of Sergio Grasso boots. Sam's eyes widened at the price tag, but they fit wonderfully and were comfortable enough to wear all day. I spent an extra couple hours in the saddle every day, taking over the schooling of most of the jumpers currently at the stable, and by the time the Tuesday before the event rolled around, I was as ready as I was going to get. I had the skill, the desire, and the smarts. Now we just had to see if I had the luck.

One morning I asked Sam, “Can you get away for an hour sometime today. I’m going to ride a couple horses at competition pace and thought you might like a taste of what I’ll be doing.” He said he’d be there around 2, after the lunch rush.

The first horse was a bay gelding named Tinker because his previous owner had told me he wasn't worth a 'tinker's damn' as a hunter for his daughter. Just as the Beemer purred into the yard, I’d finished warming him up and was ready to go. Several people heard that I was going to cut loose, and our little bleachers were almost full. I circled Tink around one end of the arena and turned him toward the first jump.

We had set the ring up like Devon from a couple years ago, 12 obstacles, big and challenging. The first jump was a vertical and Tinker sailed over it with a foot to spare. He was a strong jumper, but not especially handy so I kept my turns large and round. He stuttered through 4A and B, an oxer/oxer combination, but only knocked one rail down. Six was the water that he thought twice about, but I rode him hard and he stretched over it, landing a couple inches past the tape on the far side. The biggest challenge on this course is 10A, B and C, the oxer/vertical/oxer combination, with two and three strides in between, respectively. Only two horses were clean the year this course was used. We got over the first spread, pulled up sufficiently to clear the vertical, but then Tink didn’t gear up quite enough to make it over the second oxer; hanging a front leg in the far pole and bringing it along with us. He stumbled hard, but stayed on his feet, and we finished the rest of the course without incident. Sam rolled his eyes at me and shook his head, but he was smiling.

The next horse was a quick little jumper named Marvin, the only horse of Frank Easton, a developer from Dallas who came up on weekends to play country squire. Frank couldn't afford to campaign Marvin all over the country, but he did well locally and made it to an occasional regional qualifier. Marvin was small, but jumped like a gazelle, and he was great for practicing tight turns. I had studied the course closely and this go should be a lot more interesting than Tinker’s. As we were in the air over the second jump, I asked Marvin for a left lead and the instant we landed, I tugged him hard between 8 and 9, cutting five strides off the time it took to get to 3. We took it at a tight angle and galloped through 4, 5 and 6 before I had another opportunity to cut some time. I did the same sort of thing and we were clean with a time twelve seconds quicker than Tink’s, and less than a second off the winning time at Devon. Those shortcuts are what it takes to win and I was jazzed cause I thought I could probably do the same sort of thing on Cal if we could make it into the jump off.

Sam was grinning at me when I came out of the ring. “Jesus, that was exciting. This horse was a lot faster than the first one.” He looked at my smug expression. “You look pretty pleased with yourself.”

I shrugged. “I think I have a chance. A good one, if I can keep Kahn’s mind on his work. He went back to the restaurant and I finished the day in a pleasant glow. At least I was pretty sure now that I wouldn’t totally embarrass myself for riding, and Chloe for hiring me.

That final week went by with several interesting happenings. Robert called Monday to say that the transfer of ownership was complete and that I was now the official owner of Castlewood and all it entailed. I blew out a long breath when we hung up, then turned in surprise when James, Ernesto, Faith, and Bella all burst through the door, cheering and hugging me. Bella had answered the phone and sweet talked Robert into telling her the reason for his call. They were thrilled for me and the burden of ownership lightened a little as I remembered that I had all these good people working for me; people I could count on. I took them all for lunch across the road and brought back a box of gooey desserts from the deli for everyone else, calling a short meeting in the office to give them the news.

Sam came home with a cluster of helium balloons that said ‘congratulations’ and a bottle of champagne that we used to wash down the Chinese food he'd picked up. I knew he would someday own the restaurants, and I wondered how our lives would change with the pressures of both of us being sole proprietors of successful businesses.

James found me the next afternoon as I was packing up my kit bag for the trip. I was sorting out a pile of spurs when he came into the tack room. He looked a little nervous and I eyed him curiously. "What's up?"

"Well, there's a guy here about a job."

"Okay. If it's a stable boy, you can talk to him, like usual. I don't think we have anything else right now, do we?"

"It's for a stable boy, but I think you should talk to him."

"Why?"

"Well, he works at Tacony's and wants out of there."

I snorted. "Good for him, he's got some brains, at least. Hire him."

"He wants to talk to you first."

I finally turned to face him. "Well, why the hell didn't you say so. Where is he?"

James sent the guy to my office. He closed the door behind him and just stood there watching me for a moment. He was decent looking, late twenties maybe, sandy haired, what looked like a good body in somewhat shabby clothes. I stood and walked around the desk to him. "I'm Dean Winchester. James says you want to get out of Tacony's. How long have you been there?"

"Two years. Yeah, I don't want to work there any more. They treat their horses bad.” He glanced around the office quickly, and then met my eyes again. "My name's Gabriel. I know about the horse."

I looked at his face, trying to get a read on him. Was he blackmailing me with horse stealing. Kind of late since Faith had it all straightened out with the court. When I didn't reply, he shifted his feet a little and spoke again. "I was in prison," he blurted out. "I did 16 months for Grand Theft Auto. I've been out almost three years. I work hard and I know horses. The prison was part of the BLM mustang program."

I absorbed all that in silence. Tacony's hired ex-cons that wasn't much of a surprise. Then I caught myself. Not all cons were scum. Jesus, I was as bad as every straight person who assumed all gay men were perverts. Just cause the guy had fucked up and spent time in prison didn't mean he was a total lost cause. I looked at him more closely. He met my eyes steadily, but I could see he was a little nervous. I guessed I would be, too.

The Bureau of Land Management rounded up wild mustangs a few times a year and auctioned them off. The ones who didn't get bought were sold to dog food factories or given to prisons. The prisons broke, trained, and sold them, using the profits to keep the program going. It gave the prisoners something worthwhile to do and gave the horses another chance at life. I looked back at Gabriel, who was still watching me, waiting for my decision. "You need to give notice?"

He shook his head. "Yesterday was my last day. I couldn't stand it any more so I quit. I’ve enough saved up to live for a while till I get another job."

"See James at 7 tomorrow morning."

"Thanks. You won't be sorry.” I nodded at him and he left. I hoped my instincts were good. I saw him now and then over the next couple days, always with his eyes on his job, doing all the grunt work that was traditionally given to the FNGs. James reported that he showed up early and worked until quitting time so far, so good.

Early the morning after Gabriel started, Tay came rattling up the drive in his farrier's truck. I'd seen him around town several times since Sky had started doing our horses and wondered what brought him out here at this hour. He climbed out, jammed his hands in his pockets, and stood looking around as I walked over to meet him. He was a handsome guy with long dark hair, more muscled than Sky, but not quite to Chris's level. He wore his jeans tight and always had a serious bulge in his crotch that I'd been curious about for years. He was a home town boy, raised on a local ranch and probably hadn't been out of the tri-county area three times in his life except to farrier school.

"Hey, Tay, haven't seen you in a while. How's the shoeing business?"

"Uh, good," he said, glancing away from me with a distracted look on his face. I watched him for a moment, but he just stared off across the yard.

"Something on your mind?” I prompted him.

"Yeah . . . " He damn near scuffed the toe of his Ropers in the dirt and I started to smile.

"Wanna go in the office and talk about it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that'd be good."

Fields of Gold Part Four Continued

Thanks Huggy Bear for the Dean Pic! Hugs DDD