He stopped himself from thinking these thoughts, from feeling those feelings.
It was happening too fast to be real. Zeke probably wasn’t gay, anyway.
A crush. A mad crush was all it could ever be, but perhaps that would be enough. As long as Cal kept it under wraps, kept it to himself. Then he could feed on the small things that Zeke wouldn’t even realize he was doling out.
What about your plan to get away?
Yeah, about that.
Cal didn’t know anymore. He didn’t have any resources to get away with unless he figured out a way to sell his boots. After today, though, he wanted to keep the boots and all they represented.
He had a little bit of time before Preston showed up. He’d enjoy what he had and let tomorrow’s troubles belong to tomorrow.
Raising his head into the spray of the shower, eyes closed, he let the water wash over him.
He had now. He had the valley and working with Zeke, and that would have to be enough.
Chapter 13
Zeke
In the pasture, Zeke went over to the water trough, took off his hat, and dunked his head beneath the silver spray from the hose.
Ignoring the astonished looks from the hard-working parolees of Galen’s team, he drubbed his face with water and let the water go everywhere. And told himself that he was not going to the showers with Cal because he was afraid to go. He was not going to the showers because he didn’t need one.
Sure, he was covered in sweat and horsehair. Sure, he smelled like horse and sun-warmed saddle. But he also felt wide-eyed and new, like some young greenhorn who had no idea what was to happen next.
He’d grown up on a ranch in New Mexico and had sought the wild world and ended up a bronc rider without any education beyond high school.
His family was scattered to the winds, in death and sickness and adventure. The family ranch in New Mexico lay desolate and needed a firm hand, needed someone with the willingness to plant deep roots.
He wasn’t ready to settle on the farm yet. Just as he wasn’t ready to confront the questions about himself and all the tender feelings springing up inside of him.
He wasn’t ready for any of it. So he straightened up, ignoring the startled reactions of the horses, put his hat back on and decided that the best thing he could do was to throw himself into his work.
He’d give riding lessons to parolees, and into training Cal to be his right-hand man during riding lessons, and that was all he was going to do, right up to the moment when summer ended and they all went their separate ways.
So he did.
Over the next few days, whether in sunshine or in rain, he gave Cal riding lessons, and talked him through not only how to ride, but how to translate what he knew for the benefit of others.
This was made miles easier than it had any right to be, simply because Cal was not only bright and quick to learn, but willing. He listened to Zeke, and when prompted, could recite what Zeke had just taught him, word for word. Could put what he knew into action.
When Zeke said they’d take a break and pitch in to rake the paddock and the pastures, cleaning up from the horses, Cal jumped right in. When Zeke volunteered them to groom not just the green-haltered horses, but every single horse in the pasture, that’s what they did, not finishing up until right before dinner.
By the time Friday rolled around, they were both pretty worn out. Never once did Cal complain.
“You still having trouble sleeping, Cal?” asked Zeke as they made their way to the mess tent. He’d done the hard work, and Cal had, too, so now it was safe—safer, at least—to care.
Cal looked at him, and Zeke could almost see the words swirling in his brain.Nope, not me, sir, no, not me. As ifadmitting this would amount to a weakness that Zeke might take advantage of.
“Come clean, please,” said Zeke as he stood in front of Cal in the buffet line.
“I have to sleep with the flashlight pointed at the ceiling,” said Cal, in a rush of honesty.
The half-whispered words came at Zeke from over his shoulder, as if Cal was thinking that if Zeke couldn’t actually look him in the eye, then Zeke wouldn’t judge him for it. Reminding Zeke all over again that someone had taught Cal to be mighty suspicious, even over the smallest confession.
“After dinner, and before the campfire,” said Zeke, putting an empty plate and a napkin roll of cutlery on his tray, “I’ll show you a neat trick.”
