Lang Downs

by Ariel Tachna

  “Broken ribs hurt, don’t they?” Macklin said from the bottom of the stairs. “I broke two falling off a horse when I first got here. Michael wasn’t sympathetic at all, telling me I shouldn’t have gotten on a horse I didn’t know how to handle, but he taped my ribs every night for a month until I could move without it hurting again.”

  Chris’s ribs slowed him down enough in turning to look at Macklin that he saw the expression on Caine’s face change as he looked down at the foreman. His eyes seemed brighter, and his smile grew wider. Is that what love looks like? Chris wondered.

  “Where’s Seth?”

  “I set him up with School of the Air,” Macklin explained. “We’ll see where he is and what he needs to do to finish school. He’ll be there for at least a couple of hours if you want to unpack or lie down for a bit.”

  “I’m not an invalid,” Chris snapped, conveniently forgetting he hadn’t even been able to walk up the stairs without having to stop.

  “No, you’re not,” Macklin agreed, “but you are recovering from a beating, and you’re on pretty strong pain medication if what I saw on the prescription label is any indication. You’re entitled to a little time to recover from the trip. Seth isn’t starting work until tomorrow. You aren’t either. And before you argue, I’m the foreman. I’m the one who makes those decisions.”

  “He doesn’t let anyone work when they’re hurt or sick,” Caine added. “Even me.”

  “Especially you,” Macklin said, his voice a low growl.

  There it was again, Chris realized. They might not proclaim their relationship from the hilltops, but that didn’t make it less powerful or real. “Can I at least walk around and get my bearings a little?”

  “Just don’t overdo it,” Macklin said. “Kami starts fixing breakfast at four thirty. You’ll have to be up early tomorrow.”

  “I’ll just take a quick walk then,” Chris said. He needed the rest, but now that he’d insisted on his right not to rest, his pride wouldn’t let him give in.

  “After I show you your room,” Caine interrupted. “I may not be around when you come back from your walk, and you’ll want to know where it is.”

  Chris nodded and followed Caine the rest of the way up the stairs. The bedroom Caine showed him wasn’t large, but it was neat, with large windows, a wide bed, and a big chest of drawers. “The bathroom’s down the hall for you and Seth to use. Make yourselves at home.”

  Caine left before Chris could thank him again. Bending gingerly, Chris opened the suitcase and took a couple of minutes to unpack, the one picture of his mother he’d managed to steal from his stepfather going center stage on the chest. He tossed his clothes haphazardly into drawers and headed back toward the stairs.

  Going down was easier than going up, fortunately, and he made it outside without too much trouble, although he took a moment to sit in one of the wooden chairs on the veranda before continuing.

  The station was bustling with activity, twenty or more new men settling in at the bunkhouse and elsewhere, not to mention the people who lived on the station year-round. He could hear the sheep baaing in the pens. Shearing would be the first order of business, he’d heard some of the men say during dinner in Boorowa, but he’d miss that because of his arm. He had no idea how long that would take or what would come next, but a part of him was eager to learn. He didn’t know how long it would last since nothing in his life seemed to last long these days, but he would give it his all and hope for the best.

  Standing up slowly, he walked toward the bunkhouse. Macklin hadn’t been alone in saving him, and Chris wanted to thank the others as well if he could find them. He crossed the yard and the road and had just stepped onto the veranda of the bunkhouse when he heard a voice inside.

  “Some of you may have heard rumors about the boss.”

  Chris slipped inside to listen.

  “You might have heard people say he’s a poofter,” the man went on. Chris thought he’d heard Caine and Macklin call him Neil, but he wasn’t sure. “You might have even heard less polite things about him.”

  Chris hoped Neil wasn’t getting ready to deny it. Macklin had said they didn’t talk about it but they didn’t hide it either.

  “Let me make this very clear,” Neil continued, all but bristling as he spoke. “Caine Neiheisel and Macklin Armstrong are the backbone of this station. If you can’t deal with working for a poofter, leave now, because there’s not a man on this station who will tolerate any kind of slur against either of them.”

  “Wait,” one of the men said. “Either of them? Armstrong is gay too?”

  “Do you have a problem with that?” Neil demanded.

  “No,” the man said, raising his hands in pacification. “I’m just… surprised. And, well, a little surprised everyone is so open about it.”

  “Caine saved Neil’s life,” another of the hands explained. “He now feels the need to defend the boss against any threat, real or otherwise.”

  “Like Macklin would let Caine get so much as a bruise,” another hand joked.

  “Caine works his arse off just like the rest of us,” Neil insisted.

  “And then works Macklin’s arse at night.”

  “No way in hell Macklin lets anyone fuck him.”

  “Caine’s the boss.”

  “On the station. No way he’s the boss in the bedroom.”

  “Enough!” Neil roared. “Get your sorry arses out of here and get to work!”

  The men filed out dutifully, leaving Chris alone in the bunkhouse with Neil. “What are you looking at?” Neil demanded.

  “I wanted to say thank you,” Chris said quietly. “You were with Macklin, weren’t you? When he ran off the guys who were trying to kill me?”

  “Yes,” Neil said with a shrug. “It was no big deal.”

  “Just like Caine saving your life was no big deal?” Chris said. “I’m not going to start following you around like a puppy or anything. I just wanted to say thank you. You didn’t have to help me.”

  “Caine asked me to,” Neil said. “I told him then I was his man for life. I keep my promises.”

  “Well, whatever the reason, thank you,” Chris said. “And thank you for what you said to the others today. I know it doesn’t apply to me since you don’t know me really, but if they can accept Caine and Macklin, maybe they can accept me too.”

  “Macklin earned our respect long before we knew what he was,” Neil warned, “and Caine is… well, he’s Caine. There’s no way not to like him. Even when I thought I hated him, I liked him. You’ll have to earn our respect the same way, but being gay won’t make that an uphill battle here.”

  “I can’t ask for more than that, can I?” Chris agreed. “I’m supposed to help Kami in the kitchens. Caine was going to introduce me, but then Macklin sidetracked us.”

  “Macklin has that effect on people,” Neil said with a chuckle. “He comes in with a plan, and everyone else just falls in line, even the boss. We’re lucky to have him. He’s one hell of a foreman. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Kami.”

  Kami, as his name suggested, was aborigine, his skin dark as midnight, with crinkles around his eyes that suggested he smiled frequently, but he wasn’t smiling when Neil led Chris into the kitchen. “What?” he snapped. “If you want dinner on time, you have to leave me alone to cook it.”

  “Kami doesn’t like people,” Neil told Chris in a whisper far too loud not to be overheard.

  “I like people, just not when they’re in my kitchen,” Kami replied. “Go away.”

  Chris’s stomach sank. He was supposed to help this guy?

  “Stop it, Kami,” Neil said. “You’ll scare off your new help.”

  “What, so I’m too old to manage the kitchen now?”

  Chris wished the floor would open up and swallow him. “It’s just temporary,” he said softly. “Until I get rid of my cast and can do other stuff. I think Caine and Macklin felt sorry for me.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Your new help,
” Neil repeated. “Chris, but I didn’t catch your last name.”

  “Simms. I’d offer to shake hands, but that’s a little hard at the moment with this on my arm.”

  “What happened?” Kami asked, some of his grouchiness fading.

  “Some guys took exception to me being gay,” Chris said. “They thought they’d beat it out of me. Macklin and Neil and a couple of others dissuaded them.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?” Kami demanded, turning on Neil. “Get out. Leave him here.”

  “Good luck,” Neil said with a laugh as he left Chris in the kitchen with Kami.

  Chris had a feeling he’d need it.

  “I don’t know how much help I’ll be, honestly,” Chris said. “I can move my shoulder and my wrist, but not my elbow.”

  “You let me worry about that,” Kami said. “Right now you have a seat. Do you want a cup of tea?”

  “That would be wonderful,” Chris said. “I didn’t want to impose, but the trip was rough.”

  “Sit,” Kami said again, bustling toward the stove and the electric kettle next to it. “They didn’t just break your arm, did they?”

  They’d come damn close to breaking his spirit.

  “No, they cracked my ribs too.”

  “We’ll set you to rights in no time,” Kami promised. “Dinner’s mostly done for tonight so you can start tomorrow. Did Macklin tell you what time I start cooking?”

  “Caine said you usually start at four thirty.”

  “Unless they’re going out to the back paddocks, at which point I serve breakfast at four thirty,” Kami said, “but that’s not very often. Early to bed, early to rise, and all that. Where are you sleeping?”

  “Upstairs in the main house,” Chris said. “Caine was worried about my brother if we moved into the bunkhouse.”

  “That’s better anyway,” Kami agreed. “In the bunkhouse you’d have to listen to the jackaroos complain about your alarm going off earlier than theirs. That won’t be a problem in the main house. Even if Caine and Macklin aren’t awake, you won’t wake them coming downstairs.”

  The kettle whistled so Kami poured the water over the tea bag, added milk, and handed the cup to Chris. “Here you go. Drink that and tell me about your brother while I finish making dinner. Tomorrow morning we won’t have time to talk.”

  Chris sipped his tea and pondered what he wanted to say. Seth had become two people in his mind: the brother he was fighting to protect and the little shit he’d become to protect himself. Hoping those days were over, Chris focused on Seth as he’d been before their mother’s death. “He’s a clown,” Chris said, “always looking for a way to crack a joke or make people laugh. Unlike a lot of clowns, though, he never does it by tearing people down. If anything, he makes himself the butt of the joke because he knows he can handle it.”

  “He sounds like a good kid.”

  “He is,” Chris said.

  “But?”

  “But what?” Chris asked, feeling all the defensive walls go up.

  “You tell me,” Kami said, moving around the kitchen so his back was to Chris, making it easier for Chris to contemplate the truth. “There was a ‘but’ in your voice.”

  “But the past six months have been hard,” Chris admitted. “We’ve been living one step away from the streets, and we’ve been around some people we never would have been around before.”

  “Your folks kicked you out because you were gay?” Kami asked.

  “No, Mum died. We never knew our real father. He disappeared soon after Seth was born. The drongo Mum married kicked us out after the funeral. He said he didn’t have time for her bastard kids.”

  “Not very charitable of him,” Kami observed.

  Chris snorted, nearly choking on his tea. “Not a word I’d use to describe him, and I’ve come up with a few over the past six months.”

  “I’m sure you have, but that’s in the past now,” Kami said. “Lang Downs is a good place to start over, whether you stay for a season or a lifetime.”

  “Is that what happened to you?” Chris asked curiously.

  “The old man happened to me,” Kami replied. “I’d say Caine’s uncle was one of a kind except Caine seems determined to follow in his footsteps.”

  “Macklin said the same thing,” Chris commented.

  “Macklin told you about the old man?”

  “About Michael Lang? Yes. Why?”

  “Because as far as I know, Macklin’s never told anyone that story, except maybe Caine,” Kami said. “I wonder why he told you now.”

  To get me to trust him.

  “I don’t know. I was in the hospital trying to figure out what to do next, and he told me he’d been where I was and that Michael Lang made him see sense. He said he wanted to do the same for me,” Chris explained.

  Kami hummed an acknowledgment softly as he bustled around the kitchen, putting the final touches on what Chris thought might be pad thai of some variety, although he wasn’t completely sure. “He must have thought it was really important to have you here if he told you about himself. I know none of the other jackaroos have the slightest idea he was ever a kid with nowhere to go.”

  “You know.”

  “I was already here when he arrived. The old man took me in the year before he took Macklin in.”

  “Why don’t you say his name?”

  “It hasn’t been a year since he died,” Kami replied. “It’s not respectful to say his name.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chris said. “I didn’t know.”

  Kami smiled. “It’s not your culture to avoid the names of the dead. It doesn’t grieve me to hear it spoken, but I’ll pay him the respect he was due in my own way, the same way he always paid me respect when he was alive.”

  “He must have been an amazing man,” Chris marveled. “I wish I could have met him.”

  “You know Caine, and that’s close enough,” Kami said. “They don’t look all that much alike, but Caine has his uncle’s spirit. There’s no doubt about that.”

  “How long has Caine been here?”

  “Since March,” Kami replied. “He came a few months after his uncle passed.”

  “He seems so… settled, but that’s only six months ago.”

  “He belongs here,” Kami said. “Give yourself six months and see how you feel. I think you’ll be surprised.”

  Four

  CHRIS FINISHED his tea, thanked Kami, and used his injuries as an excuse to retreat to his room for an hour or two before dinner. The bed was surprisingly comfortable despite his sore ribs, far more comfortable than the hospital bed had been. Chris lay down and closed his eyes, consciously relaxing his muscles starting with his feet and working his way up. It was a game he’d played with his mother when he was younger and had trouble sleeping. They’d put each part of his body to sleep until they reached his head, although most nights they didn’t get that far before he fell asleep. He smiled at the memory of the days before she’d married Tony, when everything had been simple, or so it had seemed to him at the time.

  He was nearly asleep when the door to his room burst open. “Chris! Guess what?”

  The jolt of adrenaline from waking so quickly left Chris’s hands tingling and his heart pounding. It took a moment to realize what he heard in Seth’s voice was excitement, not anger or fear or worry. He had gotten so used to a shout being cause for concern that he’d forgotten what joy sounded like. “What?” he said, opening his eyes and smiling at his brother without trying to sit up.

  “I met the awesomest kid today. His name’s Jason. He’s fourteen, but he’s been here forever. Since he was two. He has his own sheepdog and everything! He lives here on the station all year and goes to school on the Internet, which means he can do his schoolwork on his own schedule and help around the station when he’s needed. He said he’d teach me all the commands for the dogs and show me everything I need to know around the station and maybe even help me with my schoolwork. Oh, and his dad’s one of the mechanics here. Do
you think he’d let me help him a bit too? I could learn so much from him. You know how much I love engines.”

  “It sounds like you had a good afternoon,” Chris said, the spate of words widening his smile. It had been too long since he last saw this kind of enthusiasm from Seth. He might not trust Caine’s offer completely, but anything that gave Seth this kind of joy was worth it, no matter what the price was down the road. “Maybe this was the right decision after all?”

  “Maybe it was,” Seth said with a shy smile.

  “Just remember they don’t know us yet, so if you get up to your tricks, tread carefully until you know people better,” Chris warned. “We don’t want anyone to get hacked off and have to leave because of it.”

  “I’ll be good,” Seth promised. “If we stay, I can maybe get a dog of my own.”

  Chris’s smile faded. For as long as he could remember, Seth had wanted a dog, but when they were little, there hadn’t been space in their flat, and later, after their mother married Tony, they had space, but Tony didn’t like dogs. Seth had learned not to ask, but the desire clearly hadn’t gone away. “Maybe you can. You can ask Jason where he got his dog and maybe we can save up enough money for you to get one of your own. If we decide to stay, that is.”

  Seth’s face grew serious as he sat down on the floor next to Chris’s bed so they were close to eye level. “I want to stay.”

  Chris ruffled Seth’s hair affectionately. “Then we’ll have to do our best to fit in. I learned two things today.”

  “What’s that?” Seth asked.

  “That pretty much everyone here thinks Caine is a saint and that everyone except Caine and maybe Kami the cook lives in awe and fear of Macklin. Keep that in mind when you’re talking to people.”

  “They saved your life,” Seth reminded Chris. “I’m not going to repay that by doing stupid shite.”

  Chris cuffed the side of Seth’s head lightly. “Watch your language. You’re not one of the jackaroos yet and I don’t want to hear it.”