A recipe for love: chef, then add cowboy

"Think 'Brokeback Mountain,' " shorthands Ric Pielstick.

"Yes, I was a cowboy," Channing McBride admits. "Also, right-wing, Christian and married with two kids."

It was nearly 10 years ago that this couple, now proprietors of a lovely Calistoga bed and breakfast inn, met on a cattle ranch in eastern Washington state. Ric, then training to be a chef and living in Seattle, was visiting a lesbian cowpoke pal when they ran into Channing. "I thought he was off-limits," says Ric, now 46.

Little did he know that Channing, now 45, a fourth-generation rancher who had upward of 10,000 cattle, had also been wrangling with his sexuality and his religious beliefs for decades. He had even considered entering the ministry and confided his secret to a minister, who instructed Channing to circle his home seven times while praying for a cure.

At their first meeting, Channing barely noticed Ric's good looks but circuitously got his phone number. A rendezvous was arranged. "I needed a friend," Channing says. They talked daily.

Within weeks, Channing decided to come out. The news was taken very badly. His wife left the ranch, taking the kids and hiding them away. The rest of his family informed him that he must attend a "gay debriefing" camp or leave the ranch - by sunup. He was about to lose everything, and ranching was all he had ever known. He was deeply conflicted.

"Ric had forgotten his plaid shirt," Channing says. "But I smelled it and suddenly thought that the people who loved me deserved to know who I really am."

He called Ric for an escape ride. Cautious about the high drama, Ric asked what would happen if he didn't run to rescue him?

"I would have walked to New Mexico," Channing says. "I'd always wanted to live there."

Ric ferried Channing to Seattle. But still struggling with his sexuality and the loss of his family, Channing cried for weeks. Six months passed before he could say he was gay. "Plus, there were no cows in Seattle," he jokes, before tearing up. The memory is still emotional.

"Everything was new. ... I needed a career," he says of the overwhelming moment. "I'd never even taken a drink."

Though the two had no commitment to each other at the time, they shared deep affection. "I was very needy," Channing admits. "Not yet relationship material." While Channing successfully tackled office management, Ric completed cooking school. Their admiration for one another grew.

Five years in, with love finally having blossomed, the two - now a dedicated couple - decided to start a business. Within months they had christened their Calistoga B&B; the Chanric Inn, a name derived from the marriage of "Channing" and "Ric." Ric cooks up gourmet breakfasts in the inn's show kitchen, while the charming Channing manages the guests.

"Ric was very patient," Channing says, smiling and looking not at all like a cowboy.

Louise Rafkin has contributed to the New York Times and NPR's "All Things Considered." Couple suggestions? Send a story to onthecouch@sfchronicle.com.

This article appeared on page N - 2 of the San Francisco Chronicle