It would have been wonderful. It would have been a whole other life, a good life full of blue skies and kind words of encouragement when things went wrong. It would have been full of Zeke’s quiet smiles and those broad shoulders and green eyes and the good feeling when Zeke’s attention turned Cal’s way.
“That’s that,” said Zeke. He took his leather gloves off and tucked them in his belt, in case he might need them.
Cal did the same, and knew that Zeke noticed, and wondered if Zeke would make fun of him for being Zeke’s shadow.
Of course, Zeke didn’t do that. Instead, he directed Cal to gather dry wood, if he could find any, while Zeke set up the burner and pulled out the steaks. They’d been frozen when they’d set out, and now they were fully thawed. Zeke sprinkled them with salt and pepper and rubbed olive oil along the surfaces.
“This is pretty fancy,” said Zeke. “But it’s our first night out and the steaks won’t last anyhow.”
There were even potatoes that could be baked, but those would need an hour in the coals so, saving the potatoes for another night, they feasted on steaks and fresh asparagus that Zeke grilled in the pan over the butane burner while the steaks rested.
After dinner, they washed the pan in the river, and Zeke dried and oiled it, and they buried the scraps so it wouldn’t attract wild animals. The rest of the food, they tied in a bag and hoisted onto a tree branch using rope they’d brought with them.
Zeke made coffee, dark and strong, and then they sat by the fire and watched the stars come out.
“This is a good time of day,” said Zeke as he looked past the small fire with its orange and blue flames, and let his gaze wander over the river, which looked dusky in the low light.
They hadn’t brought any camping chairs, so they sat cross-legged in the dirt, shoulders brushing, as though between the two of them they created a bulwark against the coming night.
One by one, the stars were blotted out by the pushing clouds, and a bit of rain fell, soft and cold, sweeping over the bend in the river as though it couldn’t determine whether it wanted to stick around or not.
“Let’s clean up, get ready for bed,” said Zeke.
Together they made sure everything was put away, then brushed their teeth standing on the bank of the river. Cal echoed Zeke’s movements as he took off his boots and stored them upside down so the snakes wouldn’t get in.
He used his pants, covered with a spare t-shirt, as a pillow. When Zeke crawled into the tent beside him, he held his breath. The darkness hid Zeke’s shape, but it could not hide the power of his limbs, the steadiness of his breath, the scent of man and horse and fresh air.
Cal inhaled a deep breath and let all of this soak into him. In a few days, his world would come crashing in on him, but fornow, he had this. Himself, and Zeke, and the silent spell of the mountains.
All of this was a gift, pure and simple. He gathered the good feelings, and ducked his chin to his chest, and willed it to continue forever.
Chapter 18
Zeke
By the time Zeke shucked his boots and showed Cal how to store them, he was worn to the bone. And happier than he’d been in a long time.
It wasn’t that he’d been miserable working at the guest ranch or in the valley. Or that he’d been unhappy during his time with Betty Lou, either. It was just that?—
Yes, he needed to be honest with himself. The second he’d settled in the saddle on Flint’s back, and took up Dusty’s lead, then looked back to see Cal astride Applejack, it was as if a new light had shot right through him.
Sure, Cal’s smile was only half a smile and there’d been something in his eyes that Zeke wanted to get to the bottom of. And he would as soon as he found the right moment.
But, riding with Cal along the banks of the Yellow Wolf River, with the blue sky overhead and the wildness of the canyon rising on either side, everything felt new. Anything was possible as the fresh breeze drew his cares and tossed them away.
It wasn’t until they’d stopped to water the horses from the river earlier, and while Zeke had studied the water, smelling rain in the air, that he’d realized how alone they were in the wilderness, together alone, with only each other to rely on. He’dfelt a new sense of intimacy, a bracing attachment as he watched Cal mount Applejack, and swung himself astride Flint.
In his old life, his before life, he’d lived among other riders, and ring managers, and rodeo clowns, and pickup men. Walked across more sawdust-lined walkways than he cared to remember, shook too many hands to count and, before he’d met Betty Lou, dossed down with any number of waitresses, as he’d always had a thing for a hardworking woman.
Being with Cal was different. To find himself being hard pressed tonotlook at Cal was a whole new experience.
Men had never drawn him, but Cal did. It was those long legs, and the uncertain but careful way he held the reins, the watchful, determined expression on his thin face, the almost shy way he continually looked to Zeke for direction. Even for approval.
All of this grabbed at Zeke’s heart. It was as if Galen’s proposal to him the season before had become a prophecy of sorts.
Except what kind of man would imagine that Zeke could fall in love with him? What kind of man was Zeke that canyon walls and a sky reaching for rain could make him even think he was thinking?
Well, at least they had two tents. At least he could retreat to his own thoughts in his own tent.
