“Sounds good,” said Cal, more glad than he thought would be to stop and rest.
He watched as Zeke dismounted and led Flint and Dusty into the copse. Their necks stretched to follow him, as if they knew they were at the end of their journey for the day.
Cal dismounted Applejack—he wanted to be like Zeke so badly, to be like him in every way—but he almost collapsed, his legs crumpling beneath him, and only a fast grab at the stirrup of his saddle saved him. He felt Zeke knew how close he’d come to tumbling on his ass, but wasn’t saying anything, and simply was setting up a tie line between two pine trees.
“Anything I can do to help?” asked Cal as he led his horse over to the tie line that Zeke had strung up. It was cool beneath the trees and the wind was still.
“Sure,” said Zeke. He took off his hat and gloves and ran his hand through his sweat-damp hair. “But answer this. What do you do first? Unpack and set up camp or take care of your horse?”
“Horse, first,” said Cal. “But you have to unpack a little to get at the halter and brush and a treat for the horses. Right?”
He already knew he was right because he had listened to every word Zeke had ever said to him. But the smile he got from Zeke was like getting a gold star.
“You’re correct,” said Zeke. “And because we are traveling together, we can do both at the same time. I’ll tend to the horses, and you start unpacking and setting up camp.”
Cal didn’t know all the aspects of setting up camp, but he knew that he could figure it out. He handed Applejack’s reins over to Zeke, and went to Dusty and opened the left pannier, where he knew the tents were stored. Where he remembered packing the tents, only now there was only one tent, singular. Not two.
“Um.”
“Problem?” asked Zeke.
Cal couldn’t see Zeke over the top of the panniers, but his presence, his steady, low murmurings to Dusty as he took out the halters and long leads, was utterly felt.
It had been Cal’s job to pack both tents, along with the food and gear, fire starter, and small single burner, which ran on butane. It was all there, including ropes, matches, a shovel for digging a latrine—allof it. But only one tent.
Had it been Preston on the other side of that horse, Cal knew he’d be in for a series of hard smacks and angry shouting. Zeke wasn’t like that. Cal knew he wasn’t, but his heart picked up just the same.
His body tightened, like it was looking for somewhere to run, only there wasn’t anyplace. Just the river and the high canyon walls and miles of trail in either direction.
“Everything okay, Cal?” asked Zeke.
“I forgot to pack one of the tents,” he said with a gulp, making himself look at Zeke directly over Dusty’s back. “It was sitting on the ground. It was right there, but I forgot it.”
“Ah.”
Zeke came around and stood at Cal’s side as he looked into the pannier. On the top layer was one tent, all neatly tucked in its carryall bag.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“No worries, it’s easier to set up and take down one tent than two,” was Zeke’s reply. “Find a good flat spot, away from the river, and start setting up. I’ll finish with the horses, and we’ll get some dinner going.”
“Okay.”
Cal’s heart was still racing as Zeke walked back to the tie line, taking Applejack with him. Cal made himself focus on putting up the tent, which was easy, even if there were no instructions.
He had the tent up in no time, pushing the pegs into the soft earth beneath the trees. He even set up a rain fly, because even though it didn’t look like it was going to rain, Zeke had said they were going to get some damp weather.
He rolled out the two sleeping bags, thinking himself clever that the zippered edges were facing each other. He didn’t let himself think about what it would be like to sleep in the same tent as Zeke. There might not be any fooling around, but he knew he’d sleep like a baby.
Then he took out the fire starter, and small burner, and some of the fresh food that they’d packed. They had enough for a day or two, then would have to rely on freeze-dried rations after that, but that was fine by Cal.
He’d rather be here, up in the mountains, with Zeke, than anywhere else in the world right now. If he had to eat half-cooked reconstituted anything, he’d eat it.
“Good job,” said Zeke as Cal went over to him beneath the rustling arch of aspen leaves dancing in the wind as the last of the sunlight limned their edges. “I’ve given the horses their rations in their feedbags and watered them. Help me groom?”
It didn’t have to be a question. Zeke could have ordered him, but he wasn’t like that. He made it a suggestion, as though Cal had free will to linger and lollygag. That made it all the more a pleasure when working at Zeke’s side was pleasure enough.
Cal matched his pace to Zeke’s, and let himself imagine what it might have been like had he met Zeke long before he met Preston. If he’d met Zeke in another life. If he didn’t have a prison record.
