by E M Lindsey
“I’m glad you’re here to keep me safe,” Spencer murmured.
“Jesus. Do you have an off switch?” Max bit out.
Collin peeled Spencer off of him and cast a sharp glare in Max’s direction.
“Would you remember what we just talked about? This is the point in the trip where you make your decision.”
“I’m fine. It’s fine.” Max gestured vaguely.
“Good. Let’s get going then. It’s a pretty level hike, so if we head out now, we can break for lunch at twelve.”
A shadow angled across Collin’s face and he squinted up at the sky. A dark cloud floated across the sun and Collin’s eyebrows furrowed together.
“Let’s go,” he said, re-shouldering his bag, a new tension in his voice.
“Everything all right?” Max asked.
“That’s an ominous looking cloud, but it’s the only one so we should be okay. The reports predicted a storm later this afternoon. We don’t want to get stranded out here.”
“Stranded?” Spencer yelped.
Max bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something that would anger Collin. “We won’t get stranded,” Max assured him. “Collin was just telling me about how easy this route is. Anyone can do it.”
“We can do it so long as we get moving.” Collin started up the trail and Spencer quickly followed behind. Max rolled his eyes and picked up the rear, going slow so he didn’t bump into Spencer who was already struggling over the fallen branches. The kid would have been better off in sneakers than he was in those brand new clunky hiking boots.
Max looked up at the sky, and then followed them.
Chapter 10
Collin shares more than he meant to
In spite of being a Londoner—at least for the most part—Collin was a lot like his father had been. He felt a connection to the forest, to the life inside of it, and the dangers around them. The cloud overhead was one, and the threat settled deep in his bones. He knew that it was unlikely they’d make it to the checkpoint before the storm hit, let alone to meet the bus.
The hike was an easy one—flat terrain and walked enough that most of the more dangerous wildlife knew to keep away from the path—but that wouldn’t stop them from being swept away in a flash flood if he wasn’t careful. They had the short hike, lunch, the last leg of the river, then the remaining hike to the bus bay before it was over. And they had probably less than forty-five minutes before they’d need to take shelter.
Normally he would have sat them both down and explained, but with Spencer already half-mad with fear of death and drowning, he knew it would be best to keep it to himself until he had no other choice. There was enough tension between the two younger men as it was, and Spencer seemed prone to working himself into a frenzy on just the possibility of danger.
“We have one short hill to climb, then we’ll walk along the edge of the ridge, come around the horseshoe path, and we’ll end about a mile up the river where our second rafts are waiting.” He said this all matter-of-factly, like they were absolutely going to make it. Collin did a quick mental calculation of the area and knew they were closer to his house than any of the ranger stations, and if worse came to worst, they could hole up there while they waited for the rain to pass.
It was stupid of him to take up this last tour, but it felt like a great big fuck you from the universe that it was all ending this way. He spared a moment of worry for the goats and had half a mind to text Michael to check on them, but they’d weathered a lot worse than a couple of microbursts.
He breathed in as he stepped ahead of the two sniping men, taking in ozone and petrichor. They were absolutely fucked.
“…blister on the back of my foot.” Collin tuned in just in time to hear another one of Spencer’s complaints, and he bit back a sigh. Spencer was attractive and charming—probably more than Collin should find him, which in other circumstances would be a problem—but he was soft. Collin had no problem with gentle city boys for the most part, but he had no patience for it today, even as he tried.
Then again, he had no patience for abrasive assholes like Max, who seemed bound and determined to make everyone feel his suffering. And it wasn’t like Collin didn’t sympathize with the poor bastard. He knew exactly what it felt like to have his entire life fall apart in the span of a few hours. Of course, he didn’t decide to tromp through the woods with a bloody engagement ring in his pocket either, but he tried not to judge how people grieved.
If they had time—maybe after the storm passed--he’d light a fire and help the poor sod create a little effigy to burn. He’d done it once, after Grant left. He’d set up a pit in the back garden and had the mind to burn their old sofa pillows Grant had insisted would match the curtains. They hadn’t, and they smelled like rotting duck ass the moment they caught fire.
He’d taken in a lungful of smoke and coughed for six days, but when his lungs finally cleared, he didn’t miss Grant as sharply as he had at first.
“Can we please stop? Just for a second? I just want to, like, put a band aid or something on this.” Spencer shot him puppy-dog eyes, and Collin felt himself weaken against the request, though he knew even a minute’s delay would cost them.
He dropped his pack to the ground and pulled out his first aid kit. “Use the ones in the back,” Collin told him, even as Max sneered.
“Princess needs to protect his little toesies?”
“Fuck off,” Spencer shot back as he dug around for the bandages.
Collin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking up at the sky. Their lone cloud had been joined by another, with a third obscuring most of the sky quickly on its way. Storms moved fast, all-encompassing, and furious when they wanted to, and this was the season for it. He glanced at Spencer who was applying the gel bandage with tiny little pats of his finger.
“Oh, come on,” Max said after a few minutes of watching Spencer baby his foot. “Can we please get on with this hike?”
“Maybe you should have a fucking Snickers,” Spencer bit back.
Collin stepped in, not wanting to referee these two anymore. He felt for Max, he really did, and he understood Spencer’s reaction to him, but enough was enough. “Look, we’ve got a storm rolling in, and I’d like to get you two to the bus in one piece. The hike isn’t too long, so just put your boot back on, and we’ll be at the second rafts before you know it.”
Spencer shot him a dark look, a far cry from the flirty, warm hugs he was delivering not that long ago, and he snatched his boot off the ground by the laces. He spun on his ass, the log digging into his pants, and Collin fought back a laugh as he heard him suck in his breath from what was no doubt a splinter.
“Look,” Collin said, taking a step closer to Max.
“Save it,” Max snapped.
“You’re not the only one who’s dealt with a fucked hand in life,” Collin went on, ignoring Max’s not-so-subtle protest.
Max snorted. “Right. Like you have any idea.”
Collin raised both brows as he glanced over at Spencer, who was re-threading his laces. “I was quite a bit older than you when my husband walked out on me. Years after he talked me into settling down in a city I wanted no part of, right before my dad died and left me this failing business and a parcel of land that he was inches away from being foreclosed on. And it hasn’t been easy. Hell, I have to shut all this down before it drowns me, but I managed to move on. Eventually.”
Max swallowed, his face going through a series of complicated expressions, and Collin could tell he was desperately trying to hold on to his petulance and anger. “It’s not the same.”
“You’re right,” Collin said easily. He hesitated, but then reached out and laid his hand on the small of Max’s back, and he felt something warm and almost gratifying when Max leaned into his touch. “It’s not the same. I don’t know what you’re going through, and I don’t want to say that it’s better or worse that it fell apart before it really got started. I’m not sure how I would have dealt with
the pain when I was younger and less…tired. I mean, maybe it’s a blessing I’m a worn-out old man…”
“You’re not,” Max said, then sighed and offered a slightly apologetic smile, still not stepping away from Collin’s hand. “You’re not old old.”
Collin allowed himself a hearty laugh, brushing his hand up Max’s spine, just once, then pulling away. It was strange how much he found he didn’t want to. Strange that he had this warm feeling in the pit of his stomach he hadn’t felt in years. It was an echo of the same feeling he’d gotten when Spencer had thrown himself into Collin’s arms and held on like he needed that hug to breathe.
“Alright,” Spencer said, his voice breaking the spell between them. Max cleared his throat and stepped away from Collin, and he didn’t miss the way Spencer’s gaze darted between them both, then darkened. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Max said, then tromped ahead, leaving a glowering Spencer and frowning Collin in his wake.
To his credit, Spencer complained significantly less on the hike to their second stop than he had before. No snakes, no fear of thunder, and most importantly, he and Max weren’t at each other’s throats. Granted, it was because they kept a good fifty feet of distance between them, but Collin would take it. He had hoped his last few hours walking these same paths his father had for years and years would be a bit kinder to him, but he supposed nothing was ever easy. Not since Grant, anyway, and a lot of that was his own fault.
Telling Max about him—even just those little bits—had opened a sliver of a wound he hadn’t been prepared for. He slipped into a tense melancholy by the time they reached the lookout, and he broke away from his two clients to lean against the railing.
The ridge had once been a place he’d come to when things were overwhelming. When he first arrived, when he first took control of the business, he wasn’t sure he’d make it past the first week. Then he’d doubted himself the first month, and then the second. Now, as he reached the homestretch of closing, he wondered if he was making the right choice. Yes, they were losing money, and yes, the land could be put to better use, but this was something he’d once loved.
He’d raced through these trees as a kid, carved out paths with his brother and dad, had seen his father look as serene as the old man ever had in his life. He’d subjected himself to absurd amounts of hours, drowning in second-hand humiliation as his dad sat in lotus position playing the pan flute for passers-by. He’d vowed he would always hate those moments of childhood trauma, and now he missed them with a ferocity that made him ache.
“Hey,” came a soft voice from behind him. Collin caught a flash of Spencer’s hair in the corner of his eye, and he nodded in greeting. “Sorry for being a dipshit back there.”
Collin turned his head to look at him, half a smile tugging at his mouth. “It’s all right.”
“It’s not. I’m not a total wimp, okay? Like…yeah, alright, I’m a sheltered baby who doesn’t like dangerous animals that could eat me…”
“There’s no way a Kingsnake could eat you,” Collin said.
Spencer rolled his eyes. “Be that as it may, this is all new for me, but I am trying.”
Collin shifted over, making room for him at the railing, and he relaxed a little when Spencer draped his arms along the rusted metal and leaned forward toward the drop-off. “I know you are, and you’re doing fine.” His gaze trailed upward at a collection of clouds in the distance that were moving a little too fast for his liking. His estimate about the storm hitting was probably off, and the darkness told him he could expect at least microburst, and a thunderstorm to follow that would last a while. The electric feeling of the storm sizzled in the air, and Collin breathed it in deeply.
If they could make it around the last bend of the river and to the final path, they’d be alright. If not, well…his house wasn’t too far. They could hunker down until it passed, even if the thought of these two in his home did strange things to the pit of his stomach.
“I bet this place looks gorgeous during a sunset,” Spencer said after a long silence.
Collin smiled fully at that. “It does. I don’t typically do evening tours because following the trail gets a bit dodgy in the dark, but my brother and I used to camp out up here when we were little.”
Spencer’s grin was open and soft. “Yeah? Is he doing this whole business with you?”
At that, Collin felt his mood darken, though it wasn’t Spencer’s fault. “He buggered off when the going got tough and my dad died.”
“Seriously?” Spencer’s tone was outraged, and it was sweet. “What a shithead.”
Collin laughed and nudged Spencer with his elbow. “He is who he is. I’d only drive myself mad trying to hope for something different.”
“It’s just a shame you have to close.”
Collin shrugged and he turned, resting his back against the rails. He trailed his gaze around the picnic spot, finally spotting Max who was standing with his back to them, head bowed, and Collin had a feeling he knew what Max was agonizing over. “The land will still be here. The trails, the river, the animals. The only thing changing is me.”
He hadn’t meant to sound profound or intense, but it was true. He loved this place, but he’d outgrown his childhood dreams. He’d outgrown the idea of teaching, too, but at least that was familiar and comfortable—if not a little suffocating. He curled one hand into a fist and squeezed until the pressure in his chest eased up, then he let go with a breath.
“We should head back out. Max?” he called, and he saw Max stiffen, even if he didn’t turn. “You ready to go?”
Max waved his hand, then started down the path ahead of them, and Spencer let out a frustrated scoff. “Does he have to be such a prick?”
“Maybe he does right now,” Collin said, not wanting to give any of Max’s pain away. “Sometimes people need to…I dunno, they need to be a prick for a little while until they don’t.”
Spencer gave him a skeptical look, but he shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. Collin wanted to warn him he shouldn’t—that he should use his hands to keep his balance, but he also knew someone like Spencer probably needed to fall on his face a few times to learn the lessons himself instead of being walked through them with both hands held.
“So, do you uh…have a wife?” Spencer asked after a few minutes back on the trail.
Collin barked out a laugh. “No. No wife. A married man would have to be out of his mind to live this life.”
“Speaking from experience?” Spencer teased.
Collin felt his cheeks heat, and an unexpected jab of pain in his side because who he was had driven Grant off and there was no way around that. “My mum and dad couldn’t weather it. Dad wanted this place, mum wanted a posh flat in Hampstead. They divorced when I was a kid. And my ex-husband…”
“Shit,” Spencer breathed out, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I think you can tell by now I have the worst case of foot-in-mouth disease ever.”
Collin quirked a smile at him and waved him off. “It’s no big deal, really. It’s been a while, and I’m not as gutted as I used to be. The mountains help. And the goats.”
At that, Spencer jumped on the balls of his feet. “Fuck, I can’t wait to see the goats!”
Collin felt another pang of guilt, especially now that he’d come to know Spencer a little better. “What is it with you and the goats?”
Spencer flushed a little and he shrugged, putting his hand back in his pocket. “I don’t know. It’s…it’s dumb.”
“I doubt it,” Collin said, nudging him again. He picked up his pace, barely a gaze on Max who was almost too far ahead, but Collin knew to give him the space he was asking for. He’d push if he needed to, but now was not that time.
“Okay, so uh,” Spencer said after a moment, and he side-stepped a large rock, bumping into Collin who steadied him with a hand at his waist. Spencer flushed and looked away. “I’ve always liked them. My mom used to tell me that baby goats
were called kids because they were just like us. Hyper and full of energy, but would totally collapse and faint when they got startled. I mean, at the time I didn’t realize that every kid was not like me, but I was definitely like the goats.”
Collin chuckled quietly. “Not all goats are fainting ones.”
“I know,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. “But they’re all kind of a mess. They eat garbage.”
Collin laughed a bit louder. “You’re not supposed to feed them garbage.”
“Well anyway,” Spencer said, his tone playfully annoyed, “my mom’s younger brother—he’s closer to my age than my mom’s—he was always such a huge dick to me. He hated that my parents spoiled me, so he ruthlessly bullied me to the point that I had anxiety attacks whenever he came around.” In the pause, Collin felt a sudden an unexpected rage, and bit back the urge to ask where this little shit lived. “One year, we went to this pumpkin patch festival, and they had a petting zoo. I was pretty apprehensive because they had a ton of geese and those little fuckers are so mean.”
“They are,” Collin confirmed with a grin.
“My uncle was being a dick—as usual. Dragged me in and shoved me into one of the flocks. He was too busy laughing to notice there was this pissed-off goat running right toward him, and before anyone could tell him to move, the goat headbutted him in the balls. Laid him out flat. It was probably the best day of my life.” Spencer gave him a beatific smile. “That’s the memory I use when I’m trying to make myself feel better.”
Collin couldn’t help his laugh, tripping a little, and his motion knocked Spencer off the trail. With his hands in his pockets, Spencer couldn’t catch himself quickly enough, and he started to topple over the ledge. Collin reacted instantly, without thinking, grabbing Spencer by the waist and hauling him in close. Their chests brushed together, their groins, and Spencer was pink in the cheeks and breathing heavy.