[mood music]

[mood music redux]

"Look, Daddy, a horsey!" burbled Galen happily from his car seat. 

Kurt turned in his seat to smile at the curly-headed twins who were looking out the window with wide eyes at the southern Idaho scenery they were speeding past.  It wasnt his childrens first trip to Idaho, but it was the first one they were old enough to remember and respond to.    

"Those are your grandmas horses," he told them. 

"Can we ride them, Papa?" asked Harlan, who was always a little more adventurous than his more serious brother. 

"Not those, baby, but there will be some horses in the stable that Daddy and I will teach you to ride," Blaine told him. 

Kurt arched an eyebrow at his handsome husband, "If youll recall, Papa, ‘Daddy has been on a horse exactly once, and it was behind you.  I had a hard time walking for a week afterward."

The corner of Blaines mouth quirked up into a smile, "If I recall, the horse wasnt the reason you had a hard time walking."

"Not in front of the k-i-d-s, Blaine," scolded Kurt, but he grinned as he said it. 

"Can I ride a big horse, Papa?" Harlan asked.  "I want to ride a big horse."

"I want to ride a cow," Galen declared. 

"Lets stick to the horses for now, okay, buckaroo?" Blaine told his son with amusement in his voice as he steered off the main road and onto the lane that led to the KB Ranch lodge.  "And, yes, Harlan, you can ride a big horse, if you listen and do what I tell you, okay?"

"Who lives there?" Harlan asked, now distracted by the lodge as is came into view.

"Your Grandma Shelby, your Auntie Santana and your Auntie Brittany, your Uncle Sam, and your Uncle Mike and Aunt Tina."

"Woah," said Galen, his voice filled with awe, "They all live in that big house?"

"No," Blaine explained patiently, "Your Grandma Shelby lives in the big house, Uncle Sam and Uncle Mike and Aunt Tina live in the bunkhouse.  See it over there?" he pointed to the long motel-like building.  "Your Aunts Brittany and Santana live in that house over there," he pointed to a small farm house off to the left, "with your cousin, Rain."

"I still cant believe they named their daughter that," Kurt muttered under this breath.    

"Daddy says that Aunt Brittany is a cowboy," declared Harlan.

"Nuh-uh," contradicted Galen, "Shes a girl.  Girls cant be cowboys."

"Your Aunt Brittany is a wrangler," Blaine explained, "just like Uncle Mike and Uncle Sam.  Shes a good one, too."

"Are you a wrangler, Papa?" asked Harlan earnestly.

"Absolutely not!" Kurt declared, "Your Papa was a cattleman.  Its a very important distinction."

"Whats a stink-shun?" asked Galen.

"Yeah, babe, whats a stink-shun?" echoed Blaine, his eyes twinkling mischievously. 

"You see those cows?" Kurt asked their boys, pointedly ignoring Blaine.  He gestured to indicate the red cows with the white faces grazing in the nearby pasture, "Your Papa owns those cows.  Thats what makes him a cattleman."

"He does?" asked Harlan with an awe-struck tone.

"He sure does," Kurt replied. 

"If Papa owns them," Galen asked after a moment of consideration, "How come they live here, and we live in New York?"

"Yeah, how come?" Harlan echoed. 

"Cows dont like to live in the city," Blaine explained, "so they stay here with your grandma."

"Why dont we live here with the cows?" asked Galen, as Blaine steered the car into a parking spot and keyed off the ignition.  Kurt and Blaine got out of the car and opened the back seats, each automatically freeing a twin from their car seat.  Once the boys were released, they scampered off, their questions forgotten in favor of chasing after a beleaguered barn cat. 

Kurt walked around the car and took Blaines hand, raising it to his lips for a kiss, "Its always good to be back," he smiled warmly. 

Blaine pulled him into his arms and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, "Yeah," he replied, "but after a week Ill be ready to go back home again."

"Is New York really home for you?" Kurt asked Blaine, nuzzling his nose against his husbands scruffy neck.  Blaine always had some stubble, no matter how often he shaved.  Kurt often joked that it was Blaines inner cowboy that always wanted to come out. 

Blaine smiled and nodded, "Anywhere with you, my love, is home." He gave Kurt one more squeeze then released him. 

"Should we get our bags out of the car before we tell everyone were here?" asked Kurt after a moment. 

"Just get the boys bags," replied Blaine with an enigmatic eyebrow waggle.  "I booked us a room tonight at the Best Western.  Mom said shed watch the kids."

"The Best Western?" Kurt asked, then his eyes grew wide with shock, "You mean where we...the first time?"

Blaine nodded. 

Kurt shouldnt have been surprised at his husbands romantic gesture but he was.  Blaine had been nothing but thoughtful throughout the years they were in school, during the time when Kurt was struggling to establish himself as a Broadway stand-out and Blaine was gaining increasing popularity as a much-sought-after violin instructor, and now that they were married, established, raising a family, and still very much in love.

Kurt batted his eyelashes, "Why Mr. Anderson, I do declare," he drawled, and Blaine swatted him on his backside. 

Kurt popped the trunk and bent inside to pull out the boys bags.  As he did so, his shirt rode up slightly, revealing a small strip of skin just above his waistband. 

"Whats this?" Blaine asked, coming over and pulling down Kurts waistband a little so he could see more clearly.  High on Kurts left hip, still red from its newness, was a small white tattoo.  The white of the tattoo was barely visible against the paleness of Kurts skin, but it was clear enough to Blaine:  backward K-B.

"I wanted to surprise you," Kurt told Blaine, blushing a little as he said it. 

"Our cattle brand?" asked Blaine.  "What brought this on?"

Kurt shrugged, "I just wanted something that shows that I belong to you," admitted Kurt.

Blaine raised an eyebrow, "You mean besides the wedding ring and the mortgage and the kids?  Thats a little old fashioned, isnt it?"

"I married a cowboy, Blaine. The modern-man-of-the-world wagon train sailed long ago."

"Thats a pretty tortured mixed metaphor, professor," Blaine responded, elbowing Kurt gently. 

"Is it too weird?" Kurt asked, biting his lower lip. 

Blaine put a hand on the car on either side of his husband, and he replied in Kurt ear in a low growl, "Its not weird, Kurt.  Its hot."  He pressed his body full length up against Kurts for a second and kissed him hard on the neck.  Then he took both bags from Kurts hands and stepped away.  He looked over his shoulder as he headed into the lodge, calling, "Im not a cowboy, Kurt, Im a cattleman."

"Whatever," Kurt responded, but he smiled as he closed the trunk lid with a snap.