Zeke could insist that they both ride, or that Cal ride, while Zeke led. But he was giving in and letting Cal lead the way.
It was a heady feeling as he cupped his hands to give Zeke a leg up, and briefly his hand traced Zeke’s left thigh as if making sure of it, feeling the warmth of it, the strength. He grabbed Zeke’s hat from the damp grass, then, tipping his chin up to smile at Zeke in the bright sunshine, Cal tugged on Applejack’s reins and began the long trudge back to camp, happier than he’d ever been.
With Applejack cantering it had taken only moments, it seemed, to reach the far end of the valley. Walking, it seemed to take hours, though Cal knew it was less than that. Even so, by the time they reached camp, and settled Applejack with his fellows, a fine, cool breeze had kicked up, and the rumbly gray cloud cover told them rain was on the way.
“I’m going to take that soak,” said Zeke. “Care to join me?”
The invitation was casually made, as though Zeke hadn’t meant to flirt with him. Cal knew this, yet his heart sped up and his body tightened.
Was it anticipation of gazing at Zeke naked and damp? Or just the whole of it, him and Zeke, here in the wilderness, making their own rules? Maybe it was a bit of both.
Cal grabbed their two kitchen towels and the washcloth he found that he’d somehow overlooked before. Following Zeke to the river, to the rocky bank just below where the horses came todrink, he hurried to catch up. He got undressed when Zeke did, as if it was an ordinary everyday thing when it felt anything but.
They lay their clothes on the rocks, and turned their boots upside-down, and Cal giggled as the horses came over to check out what they were doing.
Cal could hardly breathe as it was, but slipping into the dark, slow-moving water took away every bit of breath that he had as the cold water snatched it away.
He was only a hand’s reach away from Zeke, though, except for a cursory glance his way, Zeke was focused on his own ablutions. He dunked into the water, shot up, and then held his breath as he sank back down again, all the way up to his neck.
“It really helped last time,” Zeke said, his chin ducking into the water. “I think the cold water makes your blood rush faster, which helps with healing. Or something.”
With an underwater shrug, dark hair sticking to his temples, Zeke blinked through the dampness on his eyelashes as the river water slowly moved around his shoulders.
Cal did what Zeke did, dunking himself, shooting up, then going down for a longer soak. He didn’t think he’d last more than a heartbeat, but he lasted three full minutes, then had to get out, he was so cold.
By that time, being naked on the rocks with the cool pre-rain breeze scooting down his bare spine felt almost normal. But watching Zeke get out of the water, slowly and with care on the wet rocks, would never be anything but amazing.
Zeke was so comfortable with his own body that he didn’t hide himself as he stood there and dried off. He was tall and naked and utterly beautiful, from the top of his water-streaked dark hair, to his shoulders, the long muscles in his arms.
Cal did his best not to stare as he took one of the towels and dried himself off, but it was hard not to.
The cold water saved him from having a full on erection, but he half-turned away just in case his body decided it had a mind of its own. He could only take a deep breath when they were both fully dressed and scrambling for their boots, sitting down to put them on.
“It’s going to rain,” said Zeke. He lifted his chin to point at the gray ridge on the far side of the valley. “Thought it would have been long before this, but it’s coming for sure now.”
They heated water over the propane burner, and Zeke added their last packet of beef stew. Before it was properly cooked, however, the rain finally came, an ice cold rain, slow and steady.
They moved quickly to serve up the nearly done stew, then scooted beneath the rain fly. There, sitting crossed legged, side by side, their knees brushed as they ate their stew.
“This is horrible,” said Zeke, laughing as he shoveled in another spoonful.
Cal could barely taste the stew. It could have been mud for all he cared, Zeke’s laugh was that beautiful. At least the stew was warm, even if some of the bits of carrots were a little rubbery.
They finished eating and tucked the stove away, getting a little wet as they did this, and left the pot and crockery and cutlery out for the rain to wash.
There was no fire, no comforting orange and blue glow, no warmth. There was nothing for it but to sit in the opening of the tent, with the rain fly keeping the rain off them, and watch it come down as they listened to the river rise and growl as more water pushed through it.
“Will the horses be okay?” asked Cal. Through the rain he could see them grazing together in a clump, where the land bent close to the river.
“They’ve got the sense to move up if the river rises,” said Zeke. “But it won’t rise that much, I reckon.”
“No,” said Cal slowly, enjoying the feel of the word in his mouth. “I don’t reckon it will.”
Chapter 23
Cal
Cal didn’t want to go back to the Farthingdale Valley. Not only because Preston would be there, but because it would break the spell between him and Zeke. The spell the valley and their rescue mission had cast over him. And the idea that maybe in another life, while he’d been falling for Zeke, Zeke would have been falling for him.
