“Looks like Barton’s pack had nothing to do with it after all, given the confessions,” he said.
“Yeah.” Christian was silent a moment. “Don’t know what it says about him that we thought itmightbe him, though.” He glanced sideways at Dave. “I’d be happy never to see him again.”
A shrill neigh rang through the night air. Diablo had either heard or scented Christian and he was running up and down beside the rails of the corral, excited whinnies bursting from him with every breath.
“Oh, God,” Christian said. “We’ve been spotted.”
But the resignation he tried to put into his voice was belied by his evident delight at Diablo’s enthusiastic welcome.
“Go see your horse,” Dave said. “I’ll get unpacked.”
Christian crossed the yard toward the eager horse. Although his words to Diablo were full of insults at the racket the animal was creating, when he got to him he threw his arms around that strong black neck and held on tight, his hair mixing with Diablo’s mane until it was hard to tell where one finished and the other started.
* * *
Dave had long since unpacked by the time Christian came in. The smell of horse now overlaid all the day’s other scents, and Christianreallyneeded a shower, but Dave didn’t care about that so much as about the new peace that showed in his eyes.
It was the kind of peace Dave had only seen a few times—on Diablo’s back, sometimes, or on a long summer evening in the backyard, surrounded by quietly contented pack. A peace Christian hadn’t known often, but maybe now, he could.
It didn’t mean he’d stop fighting, Dave knew. He probably wouldn’t. But maybe now he wouldn’t be fighting ghosts, trying to bleed old pain out of himself. What had driven him might never fully leave, but it didn’t own him. Not anymore.
Dave manhandled his complaining mate into the shower, keeping the spray gentle because of the bruises all over his body. So often rigid and tense, tonight Christian was soft and pliant. He was still Christian, and Dave wasn’t kidding himself that everything from now on would be easy—and he wouldn’t want it that way, because that wouldn’t beChristian—but something had changed.
Something had shifted in Dave as well. He’d let Christian be Christian all this time and had never thought that he needed Dave to stand against the world for him sometimes, instead of always having to do it himself.
Dave thought he’d been treading lightly through life, but he’d really been tiptoeing, scared of being noticed. He’d let Christian down.
The thought made his eyes sting as he concentrated on gently cleaning the damaged body entrusted to him. Christian had done the unthinkable for him, and Dave didn’t know how he could even express what he felt. Up until that conversation on the cliffs, when Christian had finally confessed his feelings, he’d been longing for something to prove to him that Christian really did care. He’d never dreamed that his proof would come at the cost of everything that mattered to Christian. And now he felt guilty for wanting it so badly, as if somehow, he’d made this happen.
He worked the shampoo carefully through Christian’s hair, and then followed it up with some of the herbal conditioner Christian loved. And by the time Dave had finished massaging his scalp with long, gentle fingers, Christian had melted under his hands.
He dried him off and took him to bed. And it was like it always had been—this part of it, they’d always gotten right. They’d always fit together, Dave’s leg between Christian’s, Christian’s face pressed against his neck, soft breaths against Dave’s skin as they held one another.
“I love you,” Dave murmured when Christian’s breathing was almost the slow rhythm of sleep. He wanted to say so much more, but he didn’t know how.
“You had to wait till I was asleep then wake me up to tell me?” Christian complained drowsily. He nuzzled back in against Dave. “Me too. Now shut up and go to sleep.”
And perhaps they didn’t need to talk about what had happened, after all. They both knew, and the future would be built on that knowing. They hadn’t solved everything. They didn’t need to. They were learning to meet in the middle, one step at a time.
He held on tighter to Christian, buried his face in his hair, and between one breath and the next, he fell asleep.
Chapter Thirty-three
CHRISTIAN
Christian emerged blinking into the early morning sunshine. It was his favorite time of the day—everything in the world new, with no one else around to spoil it. No onehumanaround to spoil it, he amended when he was greeted by a low, demanding whicker as Diablo spotted him. He went to the horse and obediently scratched the crest of his neck and stroked his cheek before pressing a kiss against his nose and heading to the hillside where he knew he’d find Dave.
It was where Dave went every morning, but this morning he’d found it necessary to leave Christian a note telling him. Although Christian didn’t understand why Dave had done that, he was kind of glad. It felt like an invitation. He usually tried not to intrude when Dave was doing his meditation stuff, but now it felt as if he was allowed to.
Just like everything this morning felt new and clean, and as if anything could happen. He’d faced his worst fear and foundit wasn’t what he’d thought. It didn’t have any power over him, not anymore. It was a fresh start or something, and damn, those pain pills were sending him loopy. He decided to ignore the fact he hadn’t had one for ten hours and continued in search of Dave.
He found him sitting, looking out over the land below, contentment and peace in every line of his body. It wasn’t like that wasn’t obvious, because Dave wasn’t wearing any clothes.
After a few minutes, he turned to look at Christian, a smile on his face. Christian straightened up from the tree he’d been leaning against and went to him. “Hell, if I’d known you were doing naked meditation, I’d have gotten here sooner.”
Dave’s smile grew. “It just felt right today,” he said. “Like a rebirth.”
O-kay. Christian might have been guilty of saying sappy shit recently, but that didn’t mean he was getting into one ofthoseconversations.
