Half a Cowboy

by Andrew Grey

  “What time is it?” Ashton asked.

  “Five thirty,” Marcel answered. “I’m going to head back home. Lucy promised to make me some breakfast. You two stay warm.” He smiled. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” Marcel said, and with a wave, he turned and walked out the back door.

  Ben felt like a fool for being so frightened.

  “Do you want some coffee?” Ashton asked.

  “No, thanks.” It was still early, and a few more hours of rest would do him good.

  Ashton opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of orange juice, poured two glasses, then passed one to Ben. “The sugar will help you feel better. You really need to keep drinking.”

  Ben took the glass and drank the sweet, tangy liquid. Ashton was watching him—Ben could feel it almost like a physical touch, and it was one he wanted.

  Ben put his glass in the sink before turning back to Ashton, who hadn’t moved, still standing near the table, one hand on the top to brace himself, the other holding the glass.

  “What are you looking at?” Ben asked. It was nearly completely dark in the room, with only the edges of the fire glowing in the next room to allow them to see anything at all.

  “You,” Ashton said and took a small step closer. “There’s something about you.”

  He didn’t look away, and Ben felt that warmth once again. The room was chilled, but Ben thought he might start sweating. He swallowed, his mouth painfully dry, even though he’d just had something to drink. “There’s nothing about me.” He knew that was true. Ben had certainly been shown that often enough by teachers, foster parents, and eventually Dallas. A plaything—in the end, that was all he had been.

  “Yes, there is.” Ashton came even nearer. “There’s something about you that I’m going to remember for a long time after you leave.” He lowered his gaze and drank the juice he’d poured for himself, half throwing it back like he might a shot of whiskey. He set the glass on the table without looking away.

  “That’s not a good idea. You should take me into town once the storm lets up and then turn around and forget you ever saw me,” Ben told him. “Just put me out of your mind forever and forget I was ever here. I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

  Ashton blinked. “I don’t think I can do that. There’s something about you that I think is going to stay with me forever.”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “What on earth could that be?” There was nothing all that damned special about him, other than the trouble that followed him wherever the hell he went. He’d hoped to be able to outrun it this time.

  “I wish I could put it into words so you’d know that I’m not bullshitting you. I can’t begin to know what you’ve been through or why you’re so scared. But….” Ashton pulled out one of the chairs and slowly sat down. “As I told you before, I was an MP in the Army. I saw plenty of action and trouble in my five years, and after Baghdad, there isn’t much I can’t handle. I lived horrible things, and sometimes I relive them in my dreams. I was a soldier, even if I might not look like it anymore.” He lowered his gaze to his leg and lifted it once again. Ben instantly felt as though he might be seeing a part of Ashton that few people did. “After I left the Army, I started my own business. Eventually I returned here because my dad needed me.”

  Ben couldn’t help thinking that maybe there was more to it than that—maybe Ashton needed to be here too.

  “Did your dad know you liked guys?” Ben asked.

  Ashton nodded. “The thing is that….” He swallowed hard, and his eyes filled with grief. Ben knew that kind of grief—it transported him back to a time when his own world had ended. He’d been twelve when his mother passed away. Now he wanted to take Ashton’s hand and tell him that it was okay, to comfort him and maybe comfort himself some too. He reached, then paused, unsure if the touch would be welcome. Finally he grew a pair and continued lightly touching Ashton’s fingers.

  Slowly Ashton turned his hand, and Ben squeezed his fingers.

  “My dad loved my mother with everything he had, and he always told me that when I met the right person, I’d know it… my heart would know it… just like his had.” Ashton blew out his breath, but the pain in his eyes lingered for a few seconds before he blinked it away.

  Ben wasn’t sure what to do with what he’d been told, or his own muddled feelings. But he knew it would hurt if anything happened to Ashton. Ben needed to help keep him safe. “Please just be good to yourself, and once this storm is over, just let me go and forget all about me. It will be better for both of us.” Even as he said the words, he knew that forgetting Ashton wasn’t going to be all that easy either, but it was something he had to do.

  Ashton drew even closer. “I’m not sure I can.” He must have thought this was some sort of game that Ben was playing, but it wasn’t.

  “I’m very serious.” He took a step back, releasing Ashton’s hand, needing to put some space between them. “I’m sorry I brought my troubles here, and I’m really sorry for yours, but I was freezing when I took shelter in the barn. I should have been gone before you got out there.”

  “Where were you going to go with no car?” Ashton asked. “And while we’re at it, who are you so afraid of?”

  Ben shook his head. “I can’t tell you. That will only open you up to more danger. But I swear to you, I need to leave. If someone can take me to the nearest town and drop me at the bus station or whatever mode of transportation there is, I’d appreciate it. You just need to forget I was ever here.” He came closer to Ashton, looking deep into his incredible eyes. “You all have been kind to me, and I don’t want to repay that with hurt and pain. I need to disappear, for your sakes and for mine. If anyone asks, you haven’t seen me. Drop me on the outskirts of town and I’ll walk to where I need to go.”

  He expected Ashton to nod and step back, even offer a flash of pity, but he didn’t expect his expression to turn as hard as stone. “You said you weren’t in trouble with the law,” Ashton snapped.

  Ben sighed. “I wish that’s what this was. The law has rules and procedures. The people who are looking for me have none of those. They will come after me and hurt anyone who gets in their way. Believe me, this is better for everyone.” He patted Ashton’s shoulder. “Please.”

  Ashton turned and went into the living room without another word. When Ben joined him, Ashton was setting down his phone, so Ben sat on the edge of the sofa. He had no idea what Ashton was thinking and could only wait.

  “I have so many questions running through my head. I guess once an MP, always an MP.” He leaned forward, holding his cane in both hands. “I want to demand that you tell me what you’ve brought to my ranch, but I know every law-abiding person has a right to privacy.”

  Ben held up his hands. “I swear that the law isn’t after me.”

  “Then it’s someone outside the law,” Ashton said. Ben wished he were a better liar. Instead, he didn’t answer at all. “You know, I have friends, people I served with. They have access to a great deal of resources. I can find out what you’re running from.” His gaze didn’t soften. “Even though I’m pretty sure the name you gave me is false.”

  Ben shook his head. This was not at all how things were supposed to go. “Take me to town and forget about me.” His legs shook. He should get out of here as fast as possible. He was sure it was too soon for Dallas and his men to have figured out where he was, and even if they had, the weather would most likely have kept them away, at least for a little while longer.

  “Is that really what you want?”

  Damn, there was something so strong in Ashton’s eyes. Ben was so tempted to tell him everything. But then he remembered the last time he’d confided in someone. He’d met his friend Christopher one night when Dallas had let him go out. But Dallas couldn’t stand Ben having friends. He was jealous and, Ben soon learned, possessive as hell. Anyway, Ben had told Christopher about Dallas and some of the things he did. Ben had wanted to get away, and Christopher had said he’d help him. He had… or at le
ast he’d tried. Dallas had found Ben and brought him home. He was even nice to him and told him that he loved him and that Ben’s leaving broke his heart. Things were different, really different… until Ben called Christopher to apologize. The phone went to voicemail, and Ben left multiple messages. It wasn’t until he discovered that Christopher was missing that he understood what might have happened and why Dallas was so happy. Dallas had won again, and the only person who might have helped Ben wouldn’t be able to try again. Ben only hoped that Christopher had gotten away and was hiding.

  “It’s what has to happen,” Ben answered, pushing away the memories.

  “We’re able to take care of ourselves here,” Ashton said.

  Ben didn’t want to argue, but he knew no one was going to be able to defend themselves against Dallas and the men who worked for him. They had rules of their own, and the first of those was that they didn’t ever let go of anything they thought was theirs. The second rule was that anyone who got in their way didn’t stay there for very long. “I don’t doubt that you can. But there are limits to everything.”

  Ben was going to hate leaving. These people were kind, and they looked after one another rather than fighting and jockeying for position the way Dallas’s minions did. Ben had come to realize that sooner or later, he’d end up dead. So the first chance he’d found, he’d run… and ended up here.

  “I think I can handle just about anything that comes my way.” Ashton’s phone beeped, and he picked it up, texted a response, and set the phone down again. “I’ll take you to town this afternoon, if that’s what you want. But I have some associates who will be here this evening. By then the roads should be passable, and my friends will set up additional security here. By the time they’re done, this place is going to be safer than anywhere else in the damned state. I swear a rat wouldn’t stand a chance, let alone anyone else.”

  Ben wanted to stay and rest. He was tired of looking over his shoulder all the time. “Please. You will all be safe if you just take me to town.” It was the best thing to do.

  “All right. It’s going to take a little time for the guys to clear the driveway. Then once the road is plowed, we’ll head to town. Probably this afternoon, if the wind dies down.”

  That was all that Ben could ask for. He’d be gone, and everyone would be safe. Ben was already responsible for the disappearance of one person who had tried to help him. He didn’t want more collateral damage on his conscience. Taking a deep breath, he sat back and closed his eyes, figuring he might as well relax while he could. He’d be on the run again soon enough.

  “ARE YOU ready?” Ashton asked well after lunch.

  Ben nodded and put on his coat on to go outside. The power had returned an hour ago, and the house was warm and lit once again. He hated to leave, but it was the right thing to do. “Almost.” He petted each of the dogs and said goodbye before pulling on his gloves, then followed Ashton outside, where the sunlight on the snow blinded him.

  Lucy and Marcel walked over to say goodbye and shake his hand.

  “Be safe,” Lucy told him, patting him on the shoulder. And then Ben got into the truck and sat quietly, thinking as Ashton started the engine, then pulled down the driveway.

  “How far is town?” Ben asked.

  “Marshallville is ten miles. There’s a bus station there that will get you to the city, and from there you should be able to get wherever you want to go.” The roads were rough, with only a single plowed lane, but at least the sun seemed to be doing its job and signs of pavement were visible in places.

  “I want to thank you for your help and hospitality,” Ben said softly. “And for the ride.”

  “What about your car?” Ashton asked.

  Ben shrugged. “It isn’t worth anything other than scrap now.” He honestly wasn’t sure what to do with it. “I could sign it over to someone, if that’s what needs to be done.”

  Ashton slowly drew to a stop at an intersection. “Look. I’ll take care of the car, and you take care of yourself, okay? Come back this way when things are better.” His expression was soft, the way it looked when he was sleeping.

  “I’ll try,” Ben said, disappointed that he couldn’t give a more positive answer. “I promise.”

  Ashton turned, and soon buildings appeared above the snow. “I’ll take you to the station. It’s at the edge of town. I don’t know when the buses will be through because of the weather, but they’ll be able to tell you there.” Some of the light was gone from Ashton’s gaze, and Ben hated it. But he was doing the right thing—he needed to keep telling himself that.

  The drive was slow and deliberate, and they pulled into town almost an hour later. “Thank you for everything,” Ben said when they got to the depot. He shook hands with Ashton, holding on longer than he needed to just because part of him didn’t want to let go. Then he got out of the truck, waving before closing the door to head into the bus station.

  Damn, he felt like shit. He hated to leave Ashton behind. Ben watched as Ashton pulled away, and continued staring until he was out of sight. This was good, he reminded himself. At least he would be safe, and so would Ashton and his friends at the ranch. The fact that just seeing Ashton made Ben’s heart beat faster was irrelevant. But Ben had to keep moving for his sake and for Ashton’s. The fact that he was kicking himself for it—and aching for the kindness that shone in Ashton’s eyes—wasn’t important right now. Ben knew he was making the right decision, but still, Ashton had been truly kind to him, almost seeming to care about him. That was such a foreign notion to Ben that he hardly knew what to do with it.

  He opened the door to go inside just as a bus pulled in at the back. Ben hoped it was heading the way he needed to go. He looked around the old, worn room with its cracked linoleum floor and scuffed woodwork, feeling just as tired and worn out. At least the buses were running.

  Ben stood in line at the window, waiting behind two other people with their luggage beside them.

  “Excuse me,” a man said, jostling Ben. Ben turned, glancing over his shoulder at the man behind him.

  It was Mugs, one of Dallas’s loyalists. His real name was Harold, but he had a face only a mother could love and had acquired his nickname long before Ben ever set eyes on him. The guy didn’t seem to recognize him, thank God. Before his luck could run out, Ben headed back toward the doors and out into the cold, wondering where in the hell he was going to go. His fight-or-flight reflexes had kicked in, and all he wanted to do was run as fast and as far as he could.

  The cold and light hit him, and Ben blinked against the brightness. A few people passed him on their way inside as he desperately looked for an escape route.

  There was a diner next door. He hurried inside, walking between the tables, thankful the place had a back door.

  Suddenly another hand snagged his arm. “What’s going on?” Ashton asked.

  Ben had never been so happy to see anyone in his life. “They’re here. I need help,” he said, breathing hard, already moving toward the back of the building with Ashton following him.

  The bell over the front door jingled, and Ben turned as Mugs came inside.

  Only it wasn’t Mugs. It never had been. Ben sighed and almost sagged into the nearest booth. “I’m okay. It wasn’t him.” Once again, his imagination had run away with him. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart, looking into Ashton’s concerned eyes.

  Without thinking, Ben threw his arms around Ashton, holding on so he didn’t crumple to the floor. It took a few seconds before he realized Ashton was holding him back. His cheeks heated in embarrassment as he got hold of himself and reluctantly pulled away.

  “Come back to the table and tell me what happened,” Ashton said, and Ben got back to his feet and followed Ashton into the booth.

  “I’m stupid, that’s all. I saw a guy here and at the bus station, and he reminded me of someone else—one of the people I think might have been sent after me. But it wasn’t him. Thank God.” Still, the fear had been very real, and hi
s leg still bounced under the table from the adrenaline rush.

  “Take a minute to pull yourself together,” Ashton told him patiently. “Do you want something to eat?” He motioned, and the server came over.

  Ben ordered a hamburger, fries, and coffee, then thanked her.

  “It wasn’t him, and I’m okay,” Ben said again, for his own benefit. He needed to get his head back in the game and return to the bus depot. But then he lifted his gaze to Ashton, and suddenly he doubted himself. Ashton drew him like a moth to a flame. Ben would be lying if he denied that. But his decision had implications for more than just himself.

  “When I saw you fly out of there, I was scared for you,” Ashton said. “Tell me what’s going on and why you’re so damn scared. I can’t help you otherwise.” He waited, his intense gaze remaining on Ben. It was tinged with something almost unfamiliar to Ben: gentleness.

  “I should just go back and….” Ben paused as the server set his coffee in front of him.

  “I know you’re frightened. But running isn’t going to make the fear go away.”

  Ben nodded. “You’re going to say that if I run, I’ll be looking over my shoulder forever.” He was well aware of the message he could see in Ashton’s eyes. “That may be so, but at least I’ll be safe, and so will you and everyone at the ranch.” He kept his voice low. God, he was so tired of being ruled by fear. He’d been terrified almost the entire time he’d been with Dallas—afraid of pain, or what Dallas would do to anyone he cared for. He had spent years mired in fear, and it had worn him damned near down to the bone.

  “I was. But I was going to add that whatever it is that’s going on with you, you don’t have to face it alone. Fear can make you sharp, but it can also wear you down and debilitate you.” Ashton leaned over the table, brushing his hand lightly over Ben’s. “Aren’t you tired? Jumping out of your skin, watching everyone around you? You’re tensing every time the front door opens.”

  Ben nodded. When the food arrived, he ate slowly and tried to give himself a chance to think. This was one of those decision moments that felt important. “Of course I am, but….” The arguments that bubbled up sounded hollow, and he swallowed them and returned to the food.