It wasn’t Zeke waiting for him in the parking lot, it was Preston. It had to be. He was making good on his threat to yank Cal back home, whether Cal wanted to go or not.
He needed to deal with this. He needed to get Preston to leave him the hell alone so Cal could get on with his own life. It didn’t matter that the idea of going toe-to-toe with Preston made him feel hollow and scared, it had to happen or none of Cal’s daydreams or heartfelt prayers to the universe were going to make one damn bit of difference.
Cal took a breath and headed toward the parking lot.
Chapter 26
Zeke
Zeke was sticking to the plan, even though that plan felt half formed and badly considered.
If there was proof of that, it was in how the morning had gone. He’d locked his heart in place, pulled on his boots, and marched into the tasks of the day like a soldier bent on following orders, even when those orders were self-imposed.
Sure, he was the team lead and shouldn’t be fraternizing with anyone on his team. Sure, he had responsibilities to the Fresh Start Program, and an obligation to make sure every man on his team, even if it was only a team of one, got the instruction and guidance they needed to make a fresh start of their own lives.
He needed to do everything required of him to earn the five thousand dollars that was coming to him at the end of the summer. He was going to take that money, buy a truck, and head down to Cloudcroft to raise and train mules, like his grandmother had done.
Maybe he’d give lessons to people who wanted to own mules, people who wanted good, well behaved animals for their trail rides or chuck wagon dinners or demonstrations at rodeos and wanted to be sure that those mules stayed well behaved.
It would be a good life. Lonely but good. He’d struck out with Betty Lou, and now he was pushing Cal away with both hands.
The thought of it made his leg ache, as well as his heart.
He pushed Cal away even as they gave a riding lesson to three ex-cons who, in spite of outward appearances, were giving it their all. They weren’t bad at riding, just unseasoned and easily distracted.
Gordy fell off at one point, laughing as the mud splashed all around him. While humor was a good reaction to have, Zeke sighed inwardly at the hopelessness of Gordy ever managing to get a position at a place as swank as Farthingdale Ranch.
Still, with Cal’s help, Gordy hopped up from the mud, and his first thought was to pet his horse, and soothe her that it wasn’t her fault. Which gave Zeke pause, even as he stoically ignored Cal at Gordy’s side, giving him instructions as to how to make sure of his saddle in a low, calm voice.
Cal was good at this. He’d come such a long way since his first days of lying to Zeke about how good a rider he was, and what he knew about horses. Which had been nothing, absolutely nothing.
Normally, Zeke would have praised Cal right then and there. This time, he didn’t. He turned away, numb. But what else could he do? Wasn’t this the most responsible thing to do?
He kept up this behavior during the whole morning, and when everyone left for lunch, he knew he couldn’t eat. Couldn’t watch Cal from across the room and not do something about it.
He was weak; he knew he was, but it would be better in the long run if he and Cal looked forward, not backward. He would do his best, whatever that was anymore, and march into a Cal-less future.
He organized the tack room, and thought he heard rain on the roof, and ached all over.
They’d listened to rain on the roof of their tent, when it was pouring down and the tent was the only place that was dry, in the whole valley. There, they’d huddled together and laughed over their miserable meal of half-done beef stew.
Then Cal had given him the most amazing gift. He’d never experienced anything like that blow job. Never touched another man the way he’d touched Cal. A gift both given and received, along with the wonderful warm tumble of Cal, fast asleep, in his arms. Trusting that Zeke would keep an eye out for bears or whatever dangers Cal imagined lurked in the darkness, a memory that made Zeke feel powerful and good.
Finally, he was done in the tack room, and if he lingered any longer, he could only berate himself for taking the coward’s way out. With a sigh, he wiped his hands on his jeans, ignored the ache in his left leg, grabbed his hat, and made his way to the mess tent.
He thought maybe he could catch up with Cal and at least clear the air. Except when he got to the mess tent, wet almost to the knee from the damp high grass, and wet along his shoulders from the leftover rain plopping down from the branches above, he somehow couldn’t muster up the courage to say a single word to the young man who had changed his life completely.
He ate alone, and watched Cal go, and lingered over his half-eaten lunch, uncertain what to do. He needed to be braver than this, for one, brave enough to face the world so he and Cal could be together. He made himself eat his lunch, and when he thought he saw Cal outside the mess tent, he bussed his place and went outside, his heart pounding.
Galen was there at the steps to the mess tent, and Bede was, too. They were talking to each other, laughing a bit in that way they had.
Zeke’s steps slowed. He didn’t want to interrupt, but it was too late because Galen saw him and waved him over.
“Where did Cal go?” he asked after a hard swallow.
“He was looking for you,” said Galen. “But then he went to meet some guy in the parking lot.”
Toby came up, hands spread wide in a gesture that seemed to radiate exasperation. “I can’t find Owen anywhere.”
