by Emilia Loft
Having Evan this close, on his knees begging forgiveness and tipping his head up to Casper’s, exposing the tan line of his throat, clenching with emotion, lips straight and firm so that Casper wants to kiss them soft, it’s making it hard to breathe. He tries to hold still but it ends up as squirming because even after all this Evan can make him melt hot with barely a touch.
“Evan, I think you’re giving me too much credit, I’m not that holy.” He laughs nervously because Evan’s not moving away. “I never cared much what the church had to say about my….our….condition, as you put it. I put myself to right with God on that matter long ago. Firstly, way I see it, every man’s got a condition of some sort, temper, taste for cards, what have you. The work’s in making sure you don’t hurt other people by it. Secondly, I don’t believe our Father would condemn love in whatever form it takes, a union of a man and a woman can be an ugly twisted thing, I’ve seen it. Just the virtue of their sex does not make it right in the eyes of God. And if two men can find….affection…..between one another, how is that of less worth?”
Evan sits back on his heels and stares up at him dumbfounded. Casper wants him to stand, this is too intimate, too easy for him to join him on the floor.
“You…you really think all that?”
“I do. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not stupid enough to preach it, I’ve gotten a hard enough time with ‘love thy neighbor as thyself’ whenever I’ve tried to explain it meant more’n just kin. I’ve been around enough to understand the difference between God and religion.” He looked up at the ceiling; if God was listening he wondered what he might think of him finally admitting the thing he’d struggled with the most. “My faith…it has made me a better man, but not necessarily a better preacher.”
Evan considers him in silence for a moment, so Casper rises to take the cups to the sink. When he turns back Evan is standing by his chair, still staring at Casper like he’s trying to read text in another language.
“So are we…okay?” Casper smiles at him, and it feels sad but he hopes it doesn’t look that way.
“Evan,” he moves closer, close enough to count the freckles that he loves. “I forgive you, as long as you forgive me.”
“Yeah, Cas, of course.”
“And I want you to know, it meant something to me, you and I. I never thought I would have the chance to feel this way, so I thank you for that.” And Evan steps closer, and Casper fears he will kiss him, kiss him and make him forget. He sticks out a hand and Evan stares at it. “I want us to be friends, Evan. That would mean a lot to me.”
Evan takes his hand after a moment and shakes it, slowly, firmly, as if this is the first time he’s ever performed the action. And he doesn’t let go, slowly, firmly pumping their clasped hands up and down. There’s something in his eyes, behind his smile, and Casper feels it as a truth being held back. It would seem they still have things to hide, because the preacher believes his own face looks quite similar, smiling over a discomfort he is not prepared to name.
6
Chapter 6
Evan stayed away Saturday, and Casper busied himself planting in the newly cleared beds out back. By noon he came indoors and went about sorting through the crates and bundles of second-hand supplies the kind folks of his parish have given him. There are mismatched plates and books and a lovely mirror with a chip at the bottom. There are linens and jams and more pickled vegetables than he knows what to do with. There’s a sack of flour and a small wooden cross and a hand axe honed to a gleaming edge. The odds and ends are more than he’d realized, and it becomes immediately apparent he doesn’t have anywhere to store it all. Most of the furniture was broken or caked in mold or in some instances, used for kindling. He’ll need to refurnish nearly the entire house. He does what he can, but by sundown most of the boxes have simply been sorted, repacked and moved to other rooms. It looks nearly the same as it did but he feels like there’s progress.
Sunday finds him greeting parishioners as they filter into church, everyone moving to their usual seats as an elderly woman named Gladys plays Come Home, Poor Sinner at the piano up front. He’s just turning back from another welcome when a huge hand claps him on the shoulder and he’s spun around to look up at Sam Parker’s smiling face.
“Hey Cas, look what we found.” Sam steps aside to drag a sheParkering Evan from behind his back, pushing the man forward so that they’re face to face. Evan only manages to hold Casper’s gaze for a moment, looking back to the ground and chewing on a plump lip.
“Evan, welcome.”
Ben runs up then, smiling bright and excited to have his uncles there. Lisa follows, and Casper notices for the first time that her presence doesn’t fill him with envy. He can see it now, the fraternal easiness between them, Evan smiling at her, offering a hand as she climbs the steps. It is exactly the same regard he gives Jessica, smile and a hand, followed by a joke about Sam going lax in his duties as a husband and an off color joke about the possibility of a baby with green eyes. Sam punches his brother on the shoulder and Jessica laughs and rolls her eyes, and Ben whines that he doesn’t get the joke.
“You’ll have to excuse Evan, Reverend. This is why I don’t bring him around civilized people.” Lisa chides good-naturedly. They all file indoors and sit in their usual spot, the pew tighter now with the addition of the Parker boys.
The morning isn’t done with surprises though, the very last people throughParker another couple he hasn’t seen here before.
“Reverand Turner, it’s been too long.” Meg purrs and offers a hand, which Casper takes before turning to shake with Bobby. “Promise me you’ll come by soon for a visit.”
“Of course.”
He hadn’t seen them since their wedding, a small affair that had taken less than an hour and was followed up by a quick round of toasts at Ellen’s saloon before the newlyweds took off back to the Singer ranch. The gossip about the couple had been rampant ever since, the age of the bride, her obvious refinement, Bobby’s utter shock and disbelief when he met the woman for the first time. How Ellen and Rufus had burst out laughing at his expression then blamed each other for it. Casper had been meaning to call on them but figured they needed time to adjust to one another. He tried not to listen to gossip, but he must admit his own thoughts had drifted more than once to how these two wildly different people might fit together.
From the looks of it….rather well. They were smiling at him, Bobby offering her an arm as they
entered the church, and when they took their seats Casper noticed with some amusement the way Meg fixed her husband’s bowtie, and the way he grumbled but lifted his head a little all the same.
The service flowed smooth and familiar, though perhaps a bit shorter than normal. Casper tried not to rush, but every time he looked to the right he could see Evan staring at him, tracking his hands when Casper got expressive, licking his lips and causing the preacher to forget the next passage. He’s sweating beneath his robes and he can’t wait to end the sermon so he can swing open the doors and get a breath of air.
When it’s over, blessedly over, Casper focused all of his attention on Mrs. Casternack ‘s harrowing tale of the warren of rabbits that decimated her vegetable garden, hoping he appears far too occupied for any of the Parker clan to attempt words of farewell.
No such luck. It’s Jessica that corners him with Parkerle and an invitation to supper that evening, which he politely declines. Then it’s Sam at his left insisting, and Ben climbing up his uncle’s hip to plead for the distraction of a caller.
“But if you come I don’t have to go to bed till nine and Evan will let me ride with him and steer his horse home all by myself!”
“Oh he will, will he?” Lisa sways into his view and Casper feels surrounded. “Evan, you letting my son ride that beast of yours when I’m not looking?”
“No ma’am,” then there’s Evan, crowding up next to his brother to pluck Ben from his arms, hoist him up on his shoulders. “Your son’s been drinkin’ again, spinnin’ tal
l tales about me cause he’s a dirty no good liar.”
“Hey! You did so say I could!” A small heel kicks Evan in the ribs and he winces dramatically. “See the abuse I get Cas? You gotta save me, come over tonight so I have an excuse to open the brandy before supper, we can hide with Sam out back and tell the women you’re converting us sinners.”
“More like trying to corrupt our new Reverend.” Lisa swatted at Evan’s arm, laughing. “You don’t let those boys anywhere near you with a glass, Reverend. Ellen’s been giving them stuff that’d burn the hair off an ox. Poor, foolish Ash got into it with them last week and woke up in the Jefferies’ wood pile.”
They all laughed around Casper at a memory he didn’t share, the boys teasing one another while the women set plans and no one paid his attempts to protest any mind.
“Six it is Cas.” As Sam slapped a giant paw on his back stating that was that. Evan did the same and let his hand linger with a See ya, Cas. None of them seemed to notice the preacher’s cheeks flush scarlet but Evan, who winked as he turned, galloping down the path with a whooping Ben on his shoulders and no space for Casper to come up with an excuse.
* * *
Supper was a soup with green beans and the last of the root vegetables, slices of crisp fried ham, salted boiled new potatoes and one small piece each of the game hen Ben had shot and dressed himself, his first. There was cornbread still hot in the skillet and butter sweet from the new spring shoots the cows were finding. It was warm in the kitchen, but nicely so, everyone crowded around the table laughing and mostly trying to outdo one another with increasingly embarrassing tales to share with the Reverend. Cas at the head of the table at Sam’s insistence, with Evan on his right and Lisa beside him and Sam and Jessica to the left. Ben was placed at the end, but couldn’t keep his seat with all the excitement and mostly made a constant orbit around the table, getting snagged by one of the women so they could shove a quick morsel in his mouth or dodging the attacks of his uncles that sought to trap him until he agreed they were the favorite.
It was nice. Casper had never had family meals such as this. His own family was scattered to the wind, more acquaintances that shared a name, and certainly he couldn’t ever recall any jovial meals or easy conversations between them. He was invited often enough to the homes of parishioners, but nearly all of them saw the occasion as something formal, starched linens and careful grace spoken over piously prepared food. Not too much salt or butter, watered wine and no hard language, no mention of politics, retired home by nine.
The Parkers were another breed. It was already past nine and he was stuffed with food and from the lParker Lisa and Jess had more coming. There was whisky and cider, of which he had a bottomless glass of each, both so strong he was dangerously close to drunk. He kept trying to wave them all off, but Evan would press in close and fill his glass and murmur how this was Ellen’s good stuff and she’d be put out if they didn’t enjoy it, the cider from Jessica’s family orchard so it was just manners to take another glass. Lisa was stealth personified, he never actually caught it but somehow she kept his plate full no matter how much he ate and he didn’t think he saw her do it once. He was too distracted by the warm proximity of Evan, of trying not to press too close or inhale too deeply when the man leaned in to whisper some other ribald joke that would have him choking back laughter and looking to see if the ladies had heard. Evan got a wicked little grin any time he could make Casper blush, he did it again and again until Sam took pity and mentioned that there would be pie.
“I don’t know if I can eat another bite.”
“Come on Cas, there’s always room for pie!” Evan had a firm arm slung around his shoulder while Lisa brought out plates.
“Well maybe, since you went to all the effort. I’ll admit I’m curious, I’ve never tried it before.”
“What, apple pie?” Jessica asked as she cleared off some of the dishes, Sam running a hand over her swollen belly as she passed.
“No any pie.” Evan nearly choked and Sam started laughing heartily for some reason. “You’ve never had pie? How does that happen to a grown man?”
Casper wasn’t sure if this was something he should be offended by or not. He frowned at Evan, then at the pastry as it was set before him in the middle of the table. “I’ve never had occasion.”
“Lisa cut the Reverend here the biggest slice –“
“Oh no! Please Lisa, just a small –“
“The biggest slice…here you know what let me.” And before he could argue Evan was standing over the pie like it was a new kill and carving a shockingly large slice to plunk in front of Casper. He sat there grinning, apparently fully intent on watching him take his first bite. Thankfully Lisa took over and began to cut for everyone else while Ben made the case for getting just as big a piece as Cas.
Casper speared a delicate forkful, locking eyes with Evan for a moment before slipping it past his lips. It was heavenly, and he couldn’t help a small groan and a sigh. When he opened his eyes, for they’d closed despite himself at the taste, Evan was still watching him though his smile had faded some and his eyes had gone dark. Casper took another bite, it really was very good, and felt Evan’s knee brush his own. He moved his leg away and reached for a sip of cider and just then the whole of Evan’s palm landed on his thigh and squeezed lightly before running up his hip to squeeze again. Casper sputtered, choking on his drink and gasping for air. Sam pounded at his back while the women cooed if he was okay.
Evan’s hand never left his thigh and the bastard wasn’t ruffled in the least. Casper turned shock widened eyes on him but from the look of it Evan was expecting him to cover.
“This cider is…very strong.” There were laughs and the conversation started up again, but Casper couldn’t pull himself together enough to enjoy it, just watched as Evan laughed and chatted with his family as if he was in no way fondling the town preacher right under that very table and in the presence of his wife no less. Casper knew, he knew very damn well, that this was wildly inappropriate behavior, that he should disengage the hand in question. But he didn’t, took another forkful of pie, then another to cover up his lack of conversation and noticed how every time he did Evan found another spot to squeeze.
His plate was still half full when he begged his leave. They didn’t need to know the real reason he had to escape, the reason that was looking him over with glittering green eyes as if they were the only two people in the room.
“Let me take you home, preacher.” The low drawl teasing. And Casper is three words into his explanation why he’s perfectly capable of getting himself home alone when the front steps come out of nowhere and snarl his feet so that he’s careening sideways off their porch and stopped from meeting the ground face first by a pair of strong, secure hands.
“Whoa there, looks like Ellen’s hooch is nippin’ at yer heels.”
“I blame your heavy pouring hand.” Casper grumbles as he shakes Evan off and tries to remember where the horse put his reigns.
“Evan, sweetie, you see he gets home safe. And put to bed right. Gracious the Jefferies will never forgive me if they find another one in their field.”
“Sure thing Lis,” Evan licked his lips and Casper watched it with a racing heart. “Have Sam see you back and get Ben to bed.”
Somewhere in that conversation Evan’s gotten Casper mounted to his horse, its reigns tied to the pommel of his own steed. The only light is the moon and the glint where it catches in a set of eyes that watch him more than the road. The horses seem to know the way.
* * *
Casper’s sobered up some by the time they reach his home. They hadn’t said a word, but something’s shifted, they can both feel it. It’s tethered between them like the reigns, pulling one against the other and Casper can’t breathe. He jumps from his mount, leads it into the stable and unbridles it quicker than he’s ever done before. Evan is still outside, still astride his own horse, watching him in the darkness and Casper hopes for a moment this means he’ll leav
e soon.
“Well….evening Evan. And thank you.”
He doesn’t look back, rushes inside. The door is left open so that he can fumble in the dark for matches in the wane light of the moon. He curses them for being hidden. He curses again when he turns to see the shadow in his door, filling the frame, filling the room. He can’t see Evan’s features, just the black hulking mass of him where he stands unmoving and the thing between them tightens and grows.
“Evan.” The silence that follows is unnerving, and Casper thinks of wolves in the snow, thinks of small creatures that freeze with their fear, hoping to remain unseen. But Evan can see him, he can feel it. “Evan we can’t…..” Casper is shaking. He tries again. “We can’t have….you shouldn’t have touched me.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you? In front of your wife no less? What if she had seen? Evan we put this aside, it’s wrong, you know that.”
“I know.”
Casper had the matches in hand, strikes one to light the candle because he doesn’t want to continue this in the dark. But it’s a mistake. The bright flare is unkind to his eyes but worse is the hard expression Evan wears. He looks determined and Casper whimpers softly because he knows that look, the heavy jut of his cock responding like it’s been trained. He lets the match sputter out, and as his eyes adjust again there are footsteps, boot heels echoing on the cold floor. The door is shut.
“Ain’t nobody ever twisted me up like you Cas.” God he’s so close, and it’s still too dark to see his face but Casper is so aware of him, vibrating with his presence like a tuning fork. “I think about you all day, and at night I think about how I used to touch you, how good you felt. You were always so fucking perfect under my hands and I touch myself thinking of you but it’s not the same and it’s making me crazy. I need you to know, when I see you in town, see you up in your pulpit, stand near you, share a meal, the only thing I can think of is how much I want to drag you off somewhere and fuck you dirty and slow till you can’t stand.” Casper whimpers again, loud enough for Evan to hear.