“Should we save some?” asked Cal as he held out a hunk for Zeke, using a bit of napkin as a plate.
“Why?” said Zeke with a smile. “Save something so good as this? Here, sit with me.”
Sitting cross-legged on the damp ground was perhaps not sensible, but it was straightforward, and after placing the napkin and brownie on his knee, he held out a mug of black coffee with sugar for Cal to take.
When they were side by side, Zeke pushed at the fire a bit to make it die down, and together they drank their coffee and ate the last of the brownies, and watched the stars come out one by one. This high up, the stars were brilliant and bright, with Venus showing over the gray arch of mountain’s edge. One by one, other stars joined Venus in a slow, sparkly dance as the sky grew dark and darker still.
The moment was loveliness itself, a quiet peace as the stars brightened and the feelings in his chest pushed at his heart, feelings that he could not quite explain but that spun around and around as if looking for places where they could hook themselves to his soul.
It was as if those feelings had waited until he’d finally sat his ass down and let his body settle into a motionless attentiveness, waiting for the right moment to blossom into fullness. Something undiscovered had developed as he and Cal had gone off on their own, away from everyone they’d ever known. And, without the energy of people in the valley, his soul could hear its own honesty.
A connection had grown between him and Cal, unlike anything he’d felt with Betty Lou or those sturdy, easygoing waitresses, all casual flings compared to the deep-seated contentment that seemed to be edging out every other experience or notion.
What could he call what he was feeling? Connection, sure, but it was more. It was affection, and even more than that, something Zeke wasn’t quite ready to name, let alone recognize.
One thing he did know for sure was that Cal had done what Betty Lou never had, and that was stay at Zeke’s side when Zeke’s leg had acted up. Not once, but twice, now, and he’d never seemed irritated or had complained. That was true companionship, something he’d been missing until Cal came.
He watched as Cal lifted his chin, his eyes glittering with the reflection of a million stars. His glance at Zeke included a wide smile, a smear of brownie on his cheek, the lines of his face relaxed, subdued as the dusk turned to twilight.
Here, in the mountains, it was easy to focus on the smallest detail. Easier still to let the impulse take over. He licked his thumb and reached to wipe the bit of chocolate away from Cal’s cheek. To smile in response to Cal’s smile, and the fact that he hadn’t batted Zeke’s touch away. That he’d leaned into it.
What was he supposed to do with what he was feeling except to think again about Galen’s proposal, imagine what Galen had seen in Zeke, and conclude, perhaps, that Galen had been right?
Zeke had never been a man to move without thinking, but he already had and knew he shouldn’t do it again. Which meant that there was nothing he could dobutthink as he looked up at the stars and listened to the lone hoot of an owl, the murmur of the slow-moving river. The whisper of nighttime secrets as the wind slid between the pine needles as the last bit of warmth from the day began to fade.
Maybe he should let the feelings be what they were and heed his own advice about not rushing a young horse.
He couldn’t rush himself, either. Or Cal. Who deserved the peace of his hard-won bravery without having to deal with Zeke’s soul-felt rush into discovering that Galen might have been right about him.
“Do you think the mountain fairies will have a good ride tonight?” he asked, mostly to distract himself from his own thoughts, but also to tease Cal a little bit.
“They’ll ride for sure,” said Cal, pretending to frown as he jumped right into Zeke’s story. “They have plenty of mounts to choose from.”
Zeke laughed low in his throat, relaxing as he imagined the mustangs’ new owners, metal combs in hand, dutifully undoing the effects of magical, midnight rides.
“Do you want to build up the fire a little bit?” asked Zeke, rushed with warmth. “Or let it die down.”
“Let’s build it,” said Cal and, as he so often did, he jumped right into the task, grabbing a hunk of wood from the small pile, doing this without looking. When he raised his hand with a hiss and dropped the wood, Zeke was just about on his knees, reaching out.
“You okay?” Zeke asked. It could have been a spider that had bitten Cal, or maybe he was overreacting.
“Got a splinter.”
Cal brought the heel of his hand to his mouth as if he meant to suck the splinter out. In a cloud of impulse, Zeke pulled Cal’s hand to him, brought Cal’s palm to his mouth, and felt for the splinter with his tongue.
This was nothing he imagined he might do in broad daylight, but here, in the open, wind-rushed valley, with the shadows of evening filling all the hidden pockets of air, it felt perfectly normal and right.
He found the splinter and nibbled it free with his teeth, then spat it out, a tiny sharpness against his inner lip. Then he wiped the heel of Cal’s palm with the heel of his own and patted it dry with his sleeve, giving Cal’s bear scare a tug before letting Cal go.
“Oh.” Cal’s voice rose, perhaps with Zeke’s suddenness, or the touch of Zeke’s tongue on his skin, and even as Zeke regretted the impulse, Cal patted Zeke’s knee and said, “Thanks.”
Even though it was only one word, the sound of it settled Zeke. They were high up in the mountains and the normal rules did not apply. Cal might imagine there was more behind the gesture than even Zeke was willing to admit to himself, but they didn’t need to talk about it out loud. Did they?
They did, but maybe not now, not just yet. Later, when they’d returned to the real world, far away from the high valley where everything was cool and sweet, where anything seemed possible.
Maybe he would ask Galen about it when they got back, come clean and bare his soul a little to find out the truth. In the meantime, he was just going to let it be as they watched the stars dance in and out of the clouds.
Cal yawned, and so widely that Zeke could hear the click of his jaw.
