Chapter27
Marston
As painfully as if he’d been ripped at by rotating saws, Marston crawled out of bed early, gently lowering the sheet and cotton blanket over Kell’s sleeping form.
Kell was curled on his side, facing the wall of the tent, his hair a dark stain on the pillowcase, the back of his neck vulnerable as Marston covered him up. Then, as quickly as he could, he showered and shaved, walking to and from the facilities in almost pitch blackness, due to the earliness of the hour.
Gabe wanted to talk to him before breakfast, and Marston wanted to be at his best, showered and shaved. Dressed. Ready.
Sunrise came slowly, as if it knew that Marston’s heart was racing while he waited, perched on the edge of the wooden platform in front of the mess tent, waiting for Gabe. Who was either going to fire him or lecture him. Marston was ready for either, but though he could list a hundred ways he was useful to the valley program, it almost felt inevitable that Gabe was going to tell him to pack his things and leave within the hour. Which might be no more than Marston deserved.
Inside the mess tent, the two cooks were already at it, cracking eggs, banging pots around the stove, chatting while they drank coffee. He thought he might smell maple syrup being warmed up, but the trace of that scent was too faint to follow.
And yes, eventually, Gabe came up to the mess tent and, with a nod, went inside and returned with two white china mugs of hot black coffee. He sat down next to Marston on the wooden platform, his booted feet in the grass, shirt tails untucked, his sleeves rolled up, like he’d already been hard at it that morning, and was just taking a break to talk with Marston. Which was like him. Making the conversation casual and friendly, rather than onerous and threatening.
Marston didn’t think he’d be told to pack his stuff based on his stunt yesterday, but Gabe certainly deserved to say his piece, and to get the apology Marston was going to, most assuredly, offer up to him.
“Say what you have to say,” said Marston, wanting to get this over with as soon as he could. He tried taking a sip of the coffee, but it was too hot so he cupped his hands around the mug to warm them.
“I think you should tell me what happened yesterday,” said Gabe, quite able, it seemed, to take a sip of his coffee, though he did wince at the heat. “Because I have no idea what was going on in that head of yours.”
“Am I fired?” asked Marston, rather than letting spill all the rushing worry in his heart.
“No.” This was said as if Gabe considered the question quite foolish, but he was going to humor it, anyway. “That’s not how we do things around here. The valley is magical. Remember? Just like the ranch is, this place is special. And with that comes some responsibility to keep it that way. So no, you’re not fired. I just want to hear you tell me the truth.”
Marston took a breath. Gabe was the kind of person who placed trust in someone and kept it there until it was lost. The trust, the opportunity to be trusted, came first. And that deserved honesty. So Marston gave it.
“I fell in love,” he said, then took a sip of his coffee to bolster his courage. “Didn’t think I deserved it.”
“Kell?” asked Gabe, though it was obvious the answer was yes.
“Convinced myself maybe I might deserve it, if I treated him right,” said Marston, nodding. “And then I found out—” It made him cringe to think of it, so he was barely able to say it out loud. But he made himself, because it was Gabe. “I found out too late he’d been a virgin. Thought coming from prison, from being on the road—I mean, in two years, how do you stay innocent that long?”
“I read that same file as you did,” said Gabe. “I thought the same thing. Bede, his cellmate, right? Even the warden thought they were together.”
“Turns out that was a cover.” This part was easier to tell. “Bede and he pretended, using each other as a shield. Bede never laid a hand on him.”
“That was smart of them,” said Gabe. “I’ve never been in prison, but if you’ve got your back to the wall, maybe it’s better to have another human at your back.”
“My number is on Kell’s cellphone,” said Marston. “So is Bede’s. Or, at least, the number to the prison, so he can talk to Bede.”
“Kid like Kell trusting a guy like that?” asked Gabe, ruminatively. “Maybe there’s more to Bede than the file says.”
“Maybe.” Taking a deep breath, Marston shrugged, trying to ease the tightness in his shoulders. “Anyway. I found out, flipped out, returned to my old habits.” He turned to look at Gabe, to get Gabe to look at him.
When Gabe lifted his gaze from the morning sunlight streaming through the woods, Marston said, “Old habits seemed easier. I regretted it almost right away. Knew I should have taken him with me. Couple of brews. Long drive. We could have talked it over, rather than me behaving like a teenager acting out.”
Gabe’s eyebrows went up, as if he was astonished at the amount Marston had just shared. But then he nodded in that nonjudgmental way he had.
“I’m lucky Kell called me,” Marston said at last.
“Youarelucky,” said Gabe, nodding. He took a long sip of his black coffee that must have been quite good, for he sighed, his eyes half closing for a second. “And I’d start talking about ethics and non-fraternization, but I think we’re both long past that point. Way long past. But then, the valley creates this perfect storm, you know? All this energy and fresh air and beautiful surroundings.”
“But, Gabe, what should I do?”
“What should you do?”
Gabe paused to lift his mug when one of the cooks came out with the coffee pot to refill it for him. Marston, who’d barely drank any of his, covered his mug with his hand, feeling the faint mist of the steam from the coffee in the cool morning air.
