But to Galen, it was with pleasure that he said it. Galen was right. Galen had come to him with fast medicine to take away his pain. The last time that had happened had been years ago. Before prison. Before Winston had died.
As to whether Galen was just a nice guy or something more, well, that was a mystery Bede didn’t think he was going to be able to resolve.
“If you don’t feel better by morning, I am taking you in whether you like it or not.” Galen’s expression was stern, but there was a softness behind the words.
“Okay,” said Bede as he wiped his damp chin with the back of his hand.
In the stillness that settled between them, Bede could hear the pine trees rustling outside the tent. Hear the night sounds growing.
The hoot of an owl, at least he could identify that. Thechrrr-chrrrof something else. Before they had been loud and a distraction, but now they seemed a perfect accompaniment to the warm summer night.
“What is that sound?” he asked, his body slumping into relaxation as the pill kicked in. “Like a click and a whir.”
“Cicada,” said Galen. “And maybe also bats.”
Galen’s body was warm alongside his own. Bede’s bare leg brushed Galen’s blue-jean encased thigh, his shirt sleeve rumpling up from his forearm where it brushed against Galen’s snap button shirt sleeve.
He could sense the rise and fall of Galen’s chest as he breathed and wondered what Galen would look like dressed only in cotton boxers, wondered what was beneath those clothes.
“Take off your shirt. Lie down and let me rub some more arnica on you,” said Galen. “Then you can go right to sleep.”
“Sure.”
Letting out a breath, Bede tore off his shirt and stretched out face down on the cot, his feet half beneath the sheets, the cool air from the lake a blissful caress across his naked back and thighs. He heard Galen’s small gasp and knew his bruises looked pretty horrible.
More importantly, back home, except for Winston, he’d never turned his back on anyone. He’d certainly never done that in prison. But here, it felt natural to do so. To hold back the flinch as Galen’s cool hands touched him. Stroked his skin. Eased the cream in with a slowness like molasses in winter. As if Galen had all the time in the world and the jovial camaraderie of the campfire held no charms for him whatsoever.
“Better?” asked Galen.
“It’s kicking in,” said Bede, his words muffled by his pillow, his arms folded beneath it.
“What?” Galen leaned forward. So far forward and so close that Bede felt the stirrings of Galen’s longish hair on the back of his neck. The whisper of breath in his ear.
“It’s kicking in,” said Bede again. He’d turned so his mouth was clear of the pillow, and there Galen was, there Galen’s mouth was, his hands on Bede’s neck, resting so simply, like a blissful wish that Bede was free of pain.
Bede was a sucker for all of this, so long forgotten and now remembered all in a rush. “I’m good,” he said, rather than anything else he wanted to say.
“Okay.”
Galen leaned back where he sat on the cot and pulled up the cotton sheet, laying it along Bede’s body, like another whisper.
“Remember,” said Galen as he stood up. “You have tomorrow off, so rest and heal. Got it?”
“Got it, boss,” said Bede, smiling into his pillow as Galen just about tiptoed out of the tent.
As the pain went away, Bede wallowed in the ghost whispers of Galen’s touch until Kell returned from the campfire.
Bede was almost asleep and Kell might have been doing his best to keep quiet, but Bede was awake now, and turned to look at Kell as he got undressed beneath the light of the single bulb.
“Galen was looking for you,” said Kell, whispering like they were in church. “Did he find you?”
“Yes,” said Bede. “He’s all bossy about me resting.”
Kell made a sound that was acknowledgement andGood nightall in one.
Bede debated telling Kell the truth. That Galen had come looking for him, and his treatment of Bede’s bruises hadn’t felt entirely professional.
Bede was in love with the valley and he was a sucker for back rubs and for men who made him laugh and he was a sucker for everything that Galen was. He didn’t want to leave the valley or Galen.
