A glance at Cal told Zeke that Cal had swiped most of the blood from his face with his sleeve, hiding the evidence of Preston’s abuse.
“Yeah.” Zeke knew that everything was not all right, but the last thing Cal needed was to have his personal businessto become camp gossip, and he wanted to send Galen and his team on their own so could be alone with Cal. Cal was all that mattered. “Just an old friend from home, I reckon.”
Behind him, Cal barked a laugh for reasons of his own, and Galen and his team piled into the nearest silver Ford 150 and trundled on their way to who knows what errand. They instantly turned on the music and rolled down the windows, and the low laughter began.
A happy bunch, Galen and his crew. Because Galen was good at his job. Was good with people.
Zeke turned to Cal, reaching out before he could stop himself.
Cal, white-faced and unsteady, took a step back and waved him away, which tore at Zeke’s heart.
“Can we get you to the first aid hut?” asked Zeke. “Get you some ice? Some Tylenol?”
The words felt so banal and dry in the face of how he felt seeing. Cal with a smear of blood across his cheek that he’d missed, his lips bruised, eyes wide and shocked.
“Let’s do that. Come with me now?”
It wasn’t an order, it was a request. An urgent one. Cal needed to sit down before he fell down.
Cal nodded, and Zeke led the way to the first aid hut.
Cal looked like he was moving okay. No broken bones, but Zeke knew exactly how jarring it was to fall like that, to be bucked to the ground with witnesses.
At the first aid hut, without a word, Zeke guided Cal to sit in a chair while he went through the drawers to find several packets of Tylenol. He handed two of the packets to Cal, for later, and opened the third one, found a bottle of water, and gave that to Cal as well.
His throat was too tight for words as he took in the scared look in Cal’s eyes, the dirt on his neck, the tear in the collar of his shirt where Preston had grabbed him.
“Take that,” said Zeke with a swallow. “I’ll find an ice pack. If there isn’t one, we can go to the mess tent and get some there. Or we can grab you a bag of frozen peas.”
He meant it as a joke, but Cal barked another laugh, and made an angry half-wild gesture as if he too didn’t have very many words but still wanted to mock the idea that he needed any ice at all, let alone frozen peas.
As Cal took the pills and swallowed two large gulps of water, Zeke knew his heartbeat was coming down, but the image still remained. In his old world, fights like that happened outside of dicey bars at two in the morning. Not on a workday.
“What hurts?” asked Zeke. He rifled through the first aid hut and spied the small fridge, which did have cold packs stored and ready. He pressed one between his palms and shook it and when it was truly cold, he held it out to Cal. “Tell me where it hurts. All over or?—?”
“Mostly my shoulder.” The words were quiet as Cal took the cold pack and slapped it on his right shoulder. He held it there, looking up at Zeke like he’d lost his way and Zeke was the first signpost he’d come across. “Nothing is broken.”
“That was Preston, right?” asked Zeke. “Do you want me to report him?”
Cal shook his head. Zeke wasn’t surprised. He wanted to find out more so he could figure out what to do, that is, if Cal would let him help. But later, after he’d taken care of Cal.
“He can’t come here again,” said Zeke.
“I didn’t ask him to come here this time,” said Cal, stiffly.
Cal’s clipped response made it seem like they were on the verge of a fight. Over something that was nobody’s fault, nobody except Preston’s.
How had Cal ever gotten into a relationship with someone like that? But again, now wasn’t the time for questions.
“You should take the rest of the day off,” said Zeke. “Get cleaned up. Get some rest.”
“No,” said Cal. Just the single word as he looked up at Zeke, one arm crossed over his chest as he held the cold pack in place. “He ruined my life before. He doesn’t get any more of me.”
Zeke felt his whole body start with surprise. It was good that Cal wasn’t planning on staying in what was clearly an abusive relationship. Zeke had nothing but respect for that.
Everything else needed to wait until Cal and he could find a quiet moment to talk, without either of them still vibrating from Preston’s presence.
“We don’t have a lesson this afternoon,” said Zeke, seeing the wisdom of staying active. “And it’ll probably rain?—”
