He got dressed the rest of the way, and sat on the rocks to pull on his socks and boots, while the river flowed dark and deep, going in and out of the shadows, only inches away from them.
“Let’s settle the horses for the night and get ourselves some supper.”
“Sure,” said Cal.
He stepped back to give Zeke room to come down from the rocks and followed Zeke through the copse of trees as they went back to the tent and the half-ready fire.
He tucked the memories of Zeke’s nearness, his unabashed nakedness, the curl of damp hair on Zeke’s neck, the way his dark chest hair swirled on his neck, the glitter of water on his narrow hips, the glimpse of hair between his legs before Cal blushed hotly and looked away.
It would never come to more than him panting over an imaginary moment that between them, he was sure. But maybe he could dream a little.
Chapter 20
Zeke
They ate a quiet supper in front of the small campfire. The sound of their spoons scraping the thin metal bowls could barely heard above the rush of wind, the low murmur of the river, and the overarching silence from the mountain peaks that loomed over the valley.
After they washed up at the river bank and tidied their small camp, Zeke took down the rifle from its holster, which hung on a paddock rail, and made sure it was properly loaded. He carried it open over his elbow as he and Cal walked around the valley, following the river, going around the temporary fencing for the mustangs, and then by the area where their own horses were snug in the paddock.
Every single horse seemed as calm as if they were on a farm in Iowa, which was a good sign. It meant there were no predators around. He smiled at the thought that the horses were protecting them, their humans, as much as the humans were protecting their horses.
He turned to share the small joke with Cal and realized that Cal wasn’t just following him, Cal was practically on his heels, and that his whole body was strung tight as a wire.
“Everything okay, Cal?” he asked, pausing as ifheneeded to pause, and this rather than doing what he was doing, which was making sure of Cal. Even before Cal answered, he knew Cal wasn’t okay, not really.
“Sure,” said Cal, but the lie was bald and Zeke saw right through it.
“Something got you worried?” asked Zeke, dipping his chin, checking the stock of the rifle, which did not need checking. “Is it bears? I think the horses will warn us if they smell one.”
“No, it’s—” Cal paused. He took a deep breath and seemed to be making a monumental effort to relax his shoulders, as if trying to remember what Zeke had told him.If you’re calm, they’re calm. “Last night was one thing. We were in a canyon. Inside its walls, you know?”
Zeke nodded, slowly. He knew.
“And now we’re out there.”
Cal waved at the valley, the high, flat, green space among very tall peaks.
They were a long way from home, and Zeke couldn’t deny it. But while that gave him peace, it was freaking Cal out, as it would anybody who was raised in the city and only ever knew streets of asphalt with brick buildings all around.
“It makes sense. This is all new for you,” said Zeke and, if the words surprised Cal, that told Zeke once again that someone had taught Cal to be leery of his own honesty, his own truth. Zeke longed to teach that someone a lesson, but that wouldn’t help Cal now, even if the thought of it made Zeke feel a mite better.
“You’re not alone here. I’m here. You’re a quick study, so pay attention as you have been. I’ve got this rifle, and we’re not going to encounter any trouble.” He kept his words low and even, as though talking to a newly haltered colt. “We’re here one night, maybe two, then we head back down to the valley. So take a deep breath and look around you. Do you see anything that mightharm you? Or are you just feeling a little uneasy because this is all new? Either response is okay by me. Just tell me.”
“It’s all new,” said Cal, barely hesitating, which meant he was growing to trust Zeke, that he could be honest. “What if we get hurt, what if we?—”
Cal stopped with a gasp, his eyes big and blue in the growing dusk as the sun spun behind some clouds, and the shadows grew long. There was a bit of dust on his sunburned cheeks that made him lovely to look at, but Zeke restrained himself from doing this openly. That wasn’t what Cal needed.
“What if something happens?” asked Cal.
“Then we handle it,” said Zeke. “It’s good to be alert, but don’t string your nerves so tight that you don’t notice how peaceful it really is.”
There might be a bear on the other side of the river, or a mountain lion stalking them from behind the aspen trees, but those animals, while predatory, were shy and liked their own routines. They were hardly likely to have noticed the humans amidst the dashing presence of the mustangs.
“Let’s get back to camp, make some coffee, and watch the stars come out,” said Zeke.
“That sounds great,” said Cal, and Zeke was pleased to note that his shoulders relaxed a little and the expression on his narrow face, pale in the fading light, looked more at ease.
Back at camp, damp to the knees from the high mountain grasses, the scent of rain in the air, Zeke put away the rifle and covered it and the saddle it hung from with a tarp. Then he and Cal finished building the little fire and, in the warm orange and blue and white glow, Zeke made coffee and Cal divvied out the brownies.
