Even if he longed to go back there and live those moments over and over, he couldn’t.
After dinner there wasn’t any campfire, on account of the rain. Zeke watched Cal march off between the drops and thought about going after him. To tug on his shirtsleeve. To make the time between them linger. But maybe it was better to let him go, because it seemed he wanted to be left alone.
Which was right. Of course, it was right to nip it in the bud. To move on from what they’d shared.
Zeke had no idea how they might move forward together anyhow. The summer would soon be over, as well, and Zeke had to make plans.
There was no way he wanted to go back to Farthingdale Ranch. The work there had been satisfying, sure, but limited. There was only so much joy to be gotten out of teaching greenhorns to ride. It wasn’t for him. But if not that, then what?
Zeke waved away offers of joining movie night and stalked back to his tent. There, he shook out the blue jeans he’d left to dry, and wiped his cowboy boots with a cloth.
After those simple tasks, he sat on his cot and listened to the rain on the green canvas and just was still for a little while. He’d been in motion since he could remember, and now this quiet place could very well be where he needed to make a conscious decision about his future.
Down in New Mexico was the family farm, down south, near Cloudcroft. His grandmother used to have a herd of mules that she trained and sold. The farm had fallen unused since she passed away, the mules all gone, the fields fallow.
Maybe he could take that up again. At least he’d be his own man there. At least he’d be far away from the memories that surrounded him now. Cal in his arms. Cal’s warm mouth, the giving tenderness of those hands.
At the end of summer, Cal would probably go back to Preston and his high-tech job, and would soon forget the connection they’d shared.
It would take Zeke a lot longer than that to forget the memory of when he’d come in Cal’s mouth, almost blacking out as his head jerked back and Cal’s hands held him to the earth as he seemed to skyrocket into the night sky.
But it wasn’t just the blow job. It was the way Cal had snuggled up to him, half-sprawled on top of Zeke, nuzzling beneath his chin.
He’d never been able to tell Betty Lou how much he’d liked cuddling. Didn’t seem the cowboy way, and certainly nothing he could admit to his fellow bronc riders.
But for all that was holy, he loved the slow caress after good, hard sex. Loved the tender touch, fingers on his skin, arms around him, pulling him close. Someone to nuzzle beneath his jaw. Someone like Cal.
He stopped himself. Both of them had other lives to go back to or to move forward to. It wouldn’t do to moon after something he could not have. He could want it all he wanted, but he could not have it and that was that. It was time to return to the real world.
With a sigh, Zeke gathered his shower things, marched himself to the shower in the slight, pattering rain, and did his best to wash away all traces of his time in Aungaupi Valley. He even shaved, taking away traces of where Cal had caressed his face before kissing him gently.
With a shake of his head, Zeke focused on his reflection in the slightly steamed up mirror. He swiped at the mirror with the heel of his palm, but that only made it worse.
It was going to take time, and that was the truth of it. Time and patience. He’d also have to rein back his current tendency to allow his thoughts to wander where they shouldn’t.
In the morning, he’d be his best professional self, and make sure he communicated with Cal how things were to be. Then he and Cal could finish out the summer with dignity. Yes, dignity.
Zeke jerked his chin at his reflection and saw the sad, drawn look in his eyes. He’d recovered from getting his thigh busted up. He could recover from this. Yes, he could. And he would. Wouldn’t he?
Chapter 25
Cal
Shoulders tight, arms wrapped around his own body, Cal ate his dinner in the mess tent with the others. He didn’t look for Zeke, or try to sit next to him, because when Zeke said they couldn’t be together like they’d been in Aungaupi Valley, he’d meant it.
So, instead, Cal sat on the last seat at the long table next to the opening to the mess tent. There, he could tell himself that he was focusing on the rain, making a mental list of things he needed to do, laundry, polishing his cowboy boots, which were now thoroughly broken in and as easy to wear as he could ever have imagined.
He needed a shower and a shave and a good night’s sleep and in the morning, he would go on as if their shared trip to Aungaupi Valley had never happened.
That he’d not watched while Zeke cried over the mustangs’ fate.
That he’d not galloped across that green valley with Zeke’s arms around him.
That he’d not eaten the worst beef stew known to man and then crawled into a damp tent and made love to the most amazing man he’d ever met.
That last would be the hardest to forget. It was branded into his heart.
All of what they’d shared together was part of him now. Something he could turn to in darker moments—and it felt pretty dark right now as he made his way back to his tent. There, he tugged off his boots and curled and uncurled his feet, buried in socks that were pretty grimy.
