by Ariel Tachna
“You’ve really done your homework on this,” Macklin said, skimming through the pages Caine had marked up. “I’m impressed. I’m not sure how I feel about the lack of vaccinations, but if we didn’t have that expense from the vet, we’d have some extra cash to buy organic hay and grain.”
“Could we grow extra hay or even grain here on the station?” Caine asked. “It would mean changing the grazing rotations and all that, but one thing was clear in all the research I did. The more we do in-house, the easier it is to maintain our certification once we get it because we aren’t relying on anyone else keeping their records in order.”
“I don’t know,” Macklin said. “It’s so easy to buy extra hay from Taylor or one of the other stations if they have any, or go in together for a big shipment if they don’t. We’d have to look at all the regulations for grazing and rotation and compare that with our available land.”
Caine’s face fell at the discouragement.
“I’m not saying no, pup,” Macklin said. “Just that I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it in those terms before. We’re moving the sheep down for the winter starting tomorrow. Why don’t you come with me for the next few days instead of staying cooped up in that office? You can get a feel for the way things work, and we can look at everything through the lens of an eventual organic certification. What do you say?”
“You really don’t mind if I go with you?” Caine asked excitedly. He hadn’t asked sooner because he knew how Macklin felt about his ignorance, and he needed to look into the business aspect anyway, even if he hadn’t come up with any new ideas besides the organic certification, so he’d know what to expect when it came time to start paying bills. That hadn’t made it any easier to spend the days inside, knowing everyone else was out working with the sheep.
“As long as you do what I tell you, when I tell you,” Macklin said. “I’ll answer any questions you have tomorrow after dinner, if you’re awake enough to talk with me after working all day, but when we’re out in the outback, there may not be time to talk, and not doing what I say could lead to you or an animal getting hurt, and I can’t have that.”
“I’ll do what you tell me,” Caine promised.
“Dress warmly,” Macklin added. “The wind is brutal outside the valley, and we won’t have time to bring you back once we get out there.”
“I will,” Caine said, finishing his beer and standing up to leave. “Thanks for the beer. What time should I be ready?”
“Kami will have breakfast ready at four thirty,” Macklin said. “We’ll ride out at five. If you don’t ride, you can drive one of the utes, but you won’t be as involved in the actual herding that way.”
“I can ride,” Caine replied. “Nothing fancy, but I can handle a horse. The one useful skill I have.”
“I don’t know,” Macklin said, holding up the papers in his hand. “If you’re right about this, I’d say you’ve got more than one useful skill.”
“Night,” Caine said with a smile, pushing down the fear that, if he was wrong, he’d lose Macklin’s respect entirely.
“Night,” Macklin said as Caine walked back toward his house.
He was excited about the chance to go with Macklin the next day. The evenings he had spent in the foreman’s company had served another purpose besides giving Caine a better understanding of the station’s finances. They’d cemented Caine’s fascination with the other man as well. Not that he actually expected to get the chance to do anything about it. Macklin was intensely private, steering the conversation away from anything remotely personal. Caine had no idea if the man had ever been married or in love or even seriously in lust. They said no man was an island, but Caine was pretty sure Macklin came close. The only time Caine saw any softening in that hard shell was with the station’s kids. The foreman always had a smile, a hand clap, or a hug for the kids. Jason worshipped the ground Macklin walked on, and it was clear the other kids shared that adoration.
Caine shared it too. He just didn’t get the same chance to express it, and he wouldn’t unless he knew Macklin would welcome his attentions. Even if he hadn’t assured the foreman he had no interest in pursuing someone who didn’t return his regard, Caine wouldn’t do anything to upset the delicate balance of their tentative friendship, and coming on to Macklin uninvited would surely shoot that all to hell.
He reached the main house and went in, shivering a little in the cool room. The days were still warm enough that he didn’t turn on the heat, but at night the temperatures had started to drop. Kami had found a portable heater for him so he could heat his room without the expense of heating the whole house, but that only kept his bedroom warm. The rest of the house was definitely chilly. He hurried up the stairs and into his room, switching the heater on and standing directly in front of it until the room warmed slightly. While he waited, he went through his clothes, trying to decide what to wear.
Macklin had said to dress warmly, so definitely a long-sleeved work shirt and sweatshirt. He’d take his drizabone as well, just in case. He hadn’t seen rain in the forecast when he checked that morning, but it would provide an extra layer of warmth even if he only had the wind to worry about. His boots still chafed at his ankles a little, but nothing like they had earlier in the month, and he knew better than to wear his tennis shoes. Gloves, his hat, and his heavy work pants completed his mental list. By that time, the room had warmed enough for him to get ready for bed.
He changed into pajamas and climbed between the cool sheets, wishing for a warm body to share the cold nights with. He’d have to look farther afield than Lang Downs if he had any hope of finding one, though. Other than Macklin, none of the men on the station piqued Caine’s interest in the slightest. He’d learned that lesson in Philadelphia. No settling for what he could get because that was not better than nothing at all.
Shivering a little, Caine pulled the covers tighter around him and closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come quickly and that if he dreamed, he wouldn’t remember it in the morning. Facing Macklin first thing after yet another erotic dream featuring the foreman as his lover would be a recipe for disaster.
CAINE STUMBLED into the canteen at 4:35, his hair still damp from his morning shower, but he’d awoken with a sticky mess on his stomach, so not showering wasn’t an option. He might have dealt with Macklin rumpled from sleep or sweaty from the day before, but not smelling like sex. Fortunately no one else seemed any more alert than Caine was, staring silently into their coffee cups as they ate the hearty meal Kami had prepared, then packed sandwiches into rucksacks for the afternoon. Caine followed suit, not wanting to be caught unprepared. He had just finished eating when Macklin came in, his larger-than-life charisma drawing every eye in the room. A few of the men spoke to him. Others nodded and went about their business, but Caine swore every single one of them had noticed Macklin’s arrival.
“I’ve got sandwiches p-p-packed,” Caine said, joining Macklin as he sat down to eat his breakfast. Vague images from his dreams flashed through his mind, but he refused to let them interfere with the present. “Is there anything else I n-n-need?”
“First aid kit, water, and dry socks,” Macklin said. “There’s nothing more miserable than wet feet. And there’s no reason to be nervous, pup. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I’m n-not nervous,” Caine insisted. “I’m t-t-tired and that makes the stutter worse too.” He hadn’t been nervous until Macklin said something, but knowing the foreman was paying that close attention to him made him nervous now. He didn’t want to betray his interest.
“You don’t have to come,” Macklin offered.
“No!” Caine said. “I want to c-come. I’ll wake up eventually.”
“Before we head out,” Macklin warned. “Sleeping on horseback is not a good idea.”
“I’ll get more coffee,” Caine said. “Do you want a cup?”
Macklin held out his empty cup in reply.
Caine filled both cups and returned to the table, handing
Macklin his in silence. They sipped their coffee while Macklin finished eating. When Macklin was done, Caine followed him out to the barn.
“Take Titan,” Macklin directed. “He knows what he’s doing.”
Caine took the gelding Macklin indicated from the hand holding the reins and swung into the saddle. He had more experience with English saddles than Western, but they were herding sheep, not roping cattle. Caine was sure he’d be fine.
An hour later, Caine wasn’t so sure. The stock saddle fit his body differently than the English one did, but more than that, he wasn’t in the same shape as the others, who seemed completely at ease on horseback as they climbed into the higher areas of the station. The temperature dropped steadily as the altitude increased, the weak winter sunlight enough to make Caine’s eyes water but not enough to provide any warmth. By the time they reached the pasture where the sheep grazed, Caine was ready for a chance to move around and warm up a bit.
“Have some coffee,” Macklin offered, riding up beside Caine as they all drew to a halt. He passed Caine a thermos. Caine took a sip gratefully, feeling the heat seep through his body.
“So what do we do now?” Caine asked.
“We start convincing the sheep to move back the way we came,” Macklin said. “Between the horses and the dogs, it’s usually pretty easy. Slow, but easy. The hard part is getting them all going in the right direction. There are always a few that want to go some other way.”
Caine took another sip of the coffee and handed the thermos back to Macklin. “How do I help?”
“You don’t know the signals for directing the dogs, not that they need much direction, so if you’d keep an eye out for breakaways as we get them started,” Macklin said. “We don’t want to miss any.”
“I can do that,” Caine said. “Is it all right if I get down and walk around for a bit while I’m watching? I’m a little stiff from riding so much.”
“It’s cold enough the snakes should have all gone to ground,” Macklin said. “If you do stumble across one, just stay still until it goes away. You don’t want to get bitten out here. Even with the antivenin we carry in the first aid kits, you’d be in a world of hurt.”
“I’ll be careful,” Caine promised, dismounting stiffly and stretching to touch his toes a couple of times to release the tension in his muscles.
Macklin started shouting orders, the men and dogs going to work gathering up the sheep. Caine stood back and let them do it, leading Titan as he walked toward the upper edge of the field where he hoped to have a better view. The ground became rockier as he walked, escarpments jutting out in places, even creating small cave-like formations. Caine rounded one such escarpment to find a sheep stuck in the rocks.
“Macklin,” he called, not wanting to make the situation worse, but the foreman didn’t hear him. He climbed up on the rocks to call a second time, catching the Aussie’s attention finally and waving him over.
While he waited for Macklin to arrive, he walked a little deeper into the crevice, trying to figure out how to get the sheep free.
“Caine, where are you?”
“In here,” Caine called, pushing against a rock to steady himself. The rock shifted, falling to his feet and revealing a huge snake. “Oh, shit,” Caine said, backing against the wall.
“Caine?”
“Um, w-w-we’ve g-g-got a p-p-problem,” Caine said as Macklin appeared at the entrance to the crevice. “S-s-snake.”
“Don’t move,” Macklin said, his voice as tense as Caine had ever heard it. “Whatever you do, do not move.”
Caine froze against the rocks as Macklin edged closer to where Caine had uncovered the snake. After a moment, his shoulders sagged in relief. “Get over here,” Macklin ordered sharply, grabbing Caine’s wrist and hauling him closer when Caine didn’t move fast enough. “It’s an inland carpet python, but what the bloody hell were you thinking, pup?” Macklin demanded, shaking Caine by the shoulders as he yelled, an expression on his face Caine had no idea how to interpret. The anger was easy to read, but the rest… he couldn’t be seeing what he thought he saw. Macklin couldn’t possibly be afraid for him. “I told you there were snakes around. I warned you they’d gone to ground. If you’d uncovered a king brown snake or a tiger snake, you could be dead right now.”
“I’m s-s-sorry,” Caine said. “I saw the sheep. I wanted t-t-to help.”
“That kind of help gets a man killed,” Macklin repeated. “Don’t make me go through that.”
Before Caine could reply, Macklin’s mouth covered his, kissing him hard and deep. Caine moaned into the kiss, shock warring with need as Macklin’s stubble abraded his lips. The iron grip on his upper arms kept him from pulling Macklin closer, but he tipped his head in silent offering, hoping for more.
Macklin pulled back suddenly, stalking off as if the kiss had never happened, leaving Caine’s mind reeling and his dick aching. “F-f-fuck,” he muttered, scrubbing at his face as he followed more slowly behind Macklin. “Now what?”
Macklin didn’t wait around for him to ask the question, though, shouting orders down the mountain for two of the men to come free the bleating sheep. Caine frowned and mounted Titan again. He’d bide his time, stay out of Macklin’s way while they drove the sheep down to the winter pastures, then demand an explanation that evening when he went to discuss the day with Macklin.
As long as Macklin didn’t slam the door in his face.
Nine
MACKLIN MANAGED to avoid Caine for the rest of the day, not that Caine tried that hard to talk to him. This wasn’t a conversation they needed to have where the men could overhear them. As they rode back into the valley that sheltered the main station, Caine wondered if they should even discuss it at Macklin’s house. While the foreman lived alone, his house was near the others used by the families that lived at Lang Downs permanently, and if they ended up shouting at each other, it might be audible outside. He could try to get Macklin to come to the big house where they were more assured of privacy, except he doubted the foreman would agree, and Caine didn’t want to make it an order. They had enough issues without adding a power struggle to the list.
Macklin didn’t come to the canteen for dinner, adding to Caine’s suspicion the other man was going to pretend the kiss had never happened. Caine spent the meal talking with Jason instead, who was excited about having participated in his first drive with Polly at his side. From everything Caine had seen, Jason had done a great job, and Caine made sure to tell him so.
“Really?” Jason asked.
“I’m not an expert,” Caine reminded him, “but it sure seemed to me like you and Polly were where you were supposed to be, moving the sheep along with all the other men and dogs. I didn’t see her running off to do something else or you goofing around instead of working. Maybe you still have stuff left to learn, but you helped today, and that’s good.”
“Mr. Armstrong said I could start helping around the station this winter,” Jason explained. “I don’t want to let him down.”
“I’m sure you won’t,” Caine said, “and you can teach me all the things he lets you do while you’re at it. I certainly have plenty to learn.”
“Not a lot going on once the breeding’s done,” Jason said. “Make sure the sheep have enough to eat, make sure they have shelter if it snows, make sure the dingoes don’t come in too close. We spend a lot of the winter fixing things that broke during the summer, and I spend it doing lessons.”
“It sounds peaceful.”
“It’s bloody boring,” Jason disagreed. “I have lessons to do. Mum said I could do them tonight because of the drive, but I can’t get behind or she won’t let me do the next one.”
“Good luck,” Caine said. He finished his dinner and then wandered casually—he hoped it was casually—toward Macklin’s house. The door was closed, but he could see lights on inside so he knocked and waited. Macklin opened the door a moment later. “I missed you at dinner.”
“I had things to do,” Macklin said, not
opening the door any wider or inviting Caine in.
“I figured,” Caine said, keeping his voice steady by force of will alone, “but I didn’t want to miss our b-beer.”
“I don’t have time tonight,” Macklin repeated.
“Bullshit,” Caine said, pushing past Macklin into the house. “You’re avoiding me.”
“I was out of line up there,” Macklin said. “Just forget it ever happened.”
“What if I don’t want to forget it?” Caine asked. “What if I want it to happen again?”
“You’ve been here a month. You could be gone again in another month,” Macklin said. “You’re lonely, and you think I’d be a good substitute for the guy who dumped you in the States. You don’t know me well enough to want me.”
The speech left Caine momentarily flabbergasted. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said since we met, have you?” he said finally. “I’m not leaving. Even if you don’t want me, even if the kiss really was a fluke, I’m not leaving. This is my home now, get it?”
“No,” Macklin said. “I don’t. I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I don’t ‘get it,’ as you put it. I don’t know how you can uproot your life the way you did and how you can claim such loyalty to Lang Downs after only a month, and because I don’t understand, I’m having a hard time trusting it.”
“That’s fair,” Caine said, weighing his words. “Why didn’t you tell me you were gay?”
“Because it doesn’t matter,” Macklin replied, running his hand through his shaggy hair. “This isn’t Philadelphia. It’s the outback. Being gay isn’t a choice.”
“No, it isn’t a choice,” Caine agreed. “It’s the way you are, just like it’s the way I am. I’ve seen the way people around here watch you. You really think they’d care?”