Cal lifted his head.
“Can you run and open the gate to the paddock?” he asked. “Just in case these guys lose control of their horses.”
Cal looked beyond Zeke to where the three men were holding the leads of three very bouncy horses who must have felt the muddy field was an excuse to trot in place and pull at their leads as though they were at the starting gate of a major race.
Ducking into a run, Cal made it to the paddock gate, opening it just as the three horses, now loose, leads trailing, heads high, ears pricked, were about to bang into it. They slithered past him, wet muscle and flying tail, with Wayne, Toby, and Gordy hurrying behind them, doing their best not to slip in the mud.
“It’s like this sometimes,” said Zeke as he followed after them, taking the gate latch from Cal’s hands and closing the gate. “You won’t always have sunny days and dry fields.”
Zeke’s gaze flicked to Cal’s and then away as he focused on helping the men dry their horses off a bit before saddling up. Cal knew he’d have endured all the rain-soaked rides the world could ever come up with to be with Zeke.
But Zeke had set the tone. Cal would follow out of courtesy. He didn’t like making a fuss anyhow.
Maybe he and Zeke could work out a friendship. But the thought of that made his heart hurt, so he focused on the lesson, focused on helping Gordy out of the mud after he’d slipped offhis horse. Focused on the work, because maybe that would help. It didn’t really, but that was all he could do.
It seemed an eternity until lunchtime, when they could at last stop the lesson, unsaddle the horses and put tack away, distribute horse cookies, and trudge toward the mess tent.
Zeke stopped off at his tent, presumably to change into dry, mud-free clothes, but Cal went straight to the mess tent to pile whatever food was on offer on his plate.
As before, he ate alone. He kept looking toward the opening of the mess tent, telling himself he wasn’t looking for Zeke. When Zeke finally did arrive at the tail end of lunch, Cal looked the other way and felt awful about it.
He reached for the memory of their time together in Aungaupi Valley, of the sun on the mountain peaks, and the clouds tracing shadows beneath them as they went. Him and Zeke. The slow, careful way Zeke would look at him, those green eyes glinting in the shadow of his hat brim. The kindness Zeke spread all around him, to the horses, to Cal, to the brown bear who was just browsing in the bushes on the other side of the river.
If Cal had met Zeke before he’d met Preston, his life would be very different now. But then, if he’d not gone to prison, he’d not have entered the Fresh Start Program and he would not have met Zeke. That was the important thing.
He was long done with his lunch, and Zeke hadn’t even looked in his direction. Cal stood up and chastised himself as he bussed his place and, with half an ear for the sound of Zeke’s steady pace behind him, boots on the wooden stairs, he thought all of this over.
He’d not met Zeke before he’d met Preston. Life was like that. But he’d met Zekenow. He knew him now.
He deserved happiness just like anyone else, they both did, and running from Preston was only one solution. Sure, it’d beenhis first thought, but if he wanted to be with Zeke, then he should be with Zeke. Somehow.
There was no point being a coward about it. He’d been so passive in his relationship with Preston, it was both comical and sad. If his time with Zeke in that valley far away from anywhere had taught him anything, it was that there were good men in the world, and Zeke was at the top of the list.
Cal needed to make the first move, just like he’d done in the valley. Only there was no clear path. Just a muddy one. At the other end of that, though, was something good. There was someone like Zeke.
Realizing that he was going to stand up not only for what he wanted, but to Zeke himself rattled him.
Cal left the mess tent and took the first path to Half Moon Lake. Beneath the cloudy sky, rippled by the wind, the water looked as murky as Cal’s thoughts felt.
He paced back and forth in the cool wind that came down the ridge and across the lake. Then he stopped and ran his hands through his hair. He wasn’t going to run away from Preston, he was going to runtowardZeke. And the first step in that scary prospect was to find Zeke and talk to him.
He couldn’t imagine going through another morning like they’d just spent, not talking to each other, barely looking at each other.
If Zeke turned him down, then so be it. All Cal could do was try with his whole heart to tell Zeke how he felt.
Zeke could then decide howhefelt, and they would go from there. But really. Another morning like that and Cal would be ready to throw himself into the path of the next brown bear he saw.
He made his way through the tall wet grasses, mud-stained and tired, all the way back to the mess tent, which was stillcleaning up from lunch. There was no sign of Zeke, but Galen was there, chatting with the scary-looking Bede.
“Hey Galen,” said Cal. “Is Zeke still inside?”
“Yes,” said Galen. “But there’s someone up at the parking lot looking for you.”
Toby came racing down the wooden steps, work boots clonking. “There’s some guy in the parking lot. Not one of ours,” he said. “I was just there, checking on the truck, like you asked. Here’s the key fob.”
Toby stopped long enough to press the key fob into Galen’s hand, then raced off, calling for Owen.
“Thanks,” said Cal to nobody in particular.
