Grayson

Chapter Two

Kansas Five Years Later

Grayson wiped his dirty face on his shirt sleeve as he yelled 'whoa' and the mule pulling the plow in front of him came to a stop. He looked around at the big twenty acre field he'd managed to get plowed in the last few days. He took a big drink of water from the canteen tied to a rope attached to his waist and unhooked the mule from the plow.

He was eager to get him back to the barn and get his payday from the boss. He was dying to get into town and have him a couple drinks and take his first hot bath of the week. Lord knew every crack and crevice of his body was full of dirt and sweat and he was beginning to smell himself.

"Did you get that field done?" Brendan Hughes asked as Grayson approached the barn. Grayson nodded. Brendan grabbed the reins of the mule and then reached his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a handful of money, placing it in Grayson's outstretched hand.

"My family is coming in to visit tonight." Brendan said. "I've already told the other hands not to worry about coming back out for work for two days." Grayson nodded, ignoring the ache in his heart at the mention of family.

"Saddle your horse and get on out of here, Grayson. Have some fun please. You've been here for four years and I've yet to see you really act like you're having a good time."

"Working for you is my good time, Brendan." Grayson replied with a smile. But Brendan could see that the smile did not reach the tall mans eyes. Brendan wasn't surprised though. Four long years Grayson had been working for him, plowing, planting, harvesting and keeping the wood shed full and the animals cared for year round. Brendan had no idea where Grayson had come from or anything about his past but the boy seemed like a good boy and Brendan found himself wondering more and more what his story was.

He would not ask him of course. There were some things that men didn't talk about and as long as Grayson kept working so good for him that was all Brendan cared about.

"Go on, Grayson. I'll take care of the mule." Brendan said and walked away into the barn. Grayson watched the old man walk away on legs that always seemed to be shaking. His back was stooped and his hands were swollen from years of hard labor but Brendan Hughes was still hardworking and refused to just sit around while the younger men worked.

Grayson unhitched his horse, which Brendan had already saddled, and started toward town.

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Grayson couldn't remember a time when a hot bath had felt so good. He sunk down into the steaming water letting it relax away his tense and tight muscles. He grumbled when he realized he couldn't stretch out in the copper tub. Being over six and a half feet tall with shoulders over three feet broad had it's disadvantages. He figured he probably made a pretty comical sight squeezing himself into this tub which was obviously made for a leprechaun.

Still the water felt good and he stayed in it until the warmth had left and goose bumps began to cover his tanned skin from the chill. He got out (smelling much more pleasant) and dressed, running his hands through his thick blond hair to comb out the tangles. He knew it was useless to try to gain any kind of control over the thick locks and, as he knew it would, his hair fell messily back across his forehead.

He was tempted to just fall into the bed and let sleep claim him but then he remembered Brendan urging him to have a good time. He respected and liked Brendan very much and if the old man said that Grayson needed to have fun then that is what he was going to try to do. He walked out into the dark Kansas night and stood beneath the glow of the lantern on the motel boardwalk. He walked down to the diner and ate a quick dinner in a quiet corner and then made his way to the big saloon. It was late on a Friday night and so the saloon was full of rowdy farmhands, cowboys, outlaws and gunslingers all drinking, playing poker and enjoying saloon girls.