Lang Downs

by Ariel Tachna

  Macklin didn’t say anything beyond a simple greeting for a long time. Long enough for Chris to relax. “I like sitting out here in the evenings,” Macklin said finally. “It’s very relaxing.”

  “It is,” Chris replied, not sure where the conversation was heading, but he saw no harm in agreeing.

  “Sometimes Caine will join me, but tonight he’s fighting with a distributor over organic seed,” Macklin continued. “We’re going to grow our own hay as part of the organic certification process, and that requires an initial crop of organic seed. The distributor quoted one price, but now that it’s time for delivery, he’s quoting something else.”

  “That must be frustrating.”

  “He’ll deal with it,” Macklin said. “He’s amazing that way. People look at him, hear his American accent and his stutter, and they assume they know all there is to know about him. They have no idea how wrong they are.”

  Chris nodded, hearing the affection in Macklin’s words. “He’s really special to you, isn’t he?”

  “He’s it for me,” Macklin replied. “I’d given up on the idea of finding someone, anyone, out here in the outback, and then there he was, perfect and stubborn and shy and so determined to make a life here. It took me a while to believe it, to believe in him, but he’s a force of nature, even if he doesn’t see it.”

  Chris wasn’t sure what to say, so he let the silence fall between them again, Macklin’s words echoing in his head, or maybe not the words so much as the way he spoke of Caine, the absolute assurance that Caine was his… his everything. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard that confidence from any of the adults in his life before, even when he was younger, and to hear it now from, of all people, half of the one gay couple he knew left him reeling internally. By whatever miracle or twist of fate, Macklin had found his partner and had the courage to hold onto him. Chris could only hope he’d be so lucky someday.

  “How are you settling in?” Macklin asked. “Has Kami got used to having you around yet?”

  “I suppose,” Chris said with a shrug that didn’t hurt nearly as much as it would have a few weeks ago. “He hasn’t killed me yet.”

  “That’s a good start,” Macklin said with a chuckle. “I heard you learned a bit about herding sheep today.”

  “Yeah,” Chris said, trying not to think about why he’d spent the afternoon with Neil instead of Jesse and all that had transpired since. It was dark enough Macklin wouldn’t be able to see him blush, but the foreman had a knack for knowing everything, it seemed, and Chris would rather not give Macklin any hint of his personal business.

  “You aren’t overdoing it, are you?”

  “I’m not a kid,” Chris protested automatically.

  “I wasn’t implying you were,” Macklin said, his voice as unruffled as ever. “I’m not your father, to tell you what to do, but I am your boss, and as such, your ability to do your job is my concern. If you set back your recovery by overdoing, it affects me. If you tell me you’re fine, I’m going to believe you unless you prove to me otherwise, but I expect you to tell me the truth, just like I expect all my jackaroos to tell me the truth where their jobs are concerned.”

  “I’m doing better,” Chris replied, Macklin’s frank words settling him and allowing him to reply with the honesty Macklin had demanded. “My ribs still hurt if I reach for something too far away, but I can twist some now and bend as much as the wrapping lets me. I guess my broken arm is healing, although I don’t have any way to tell. It doesn’t hurt, so that’s something, although it itches like mad.”

  “Put talcum powder inside the cast as much as you can,” Macklin suggested. “It won’t stop the itching completely, but it’s about the only thing that helps.”

  “I don’t think I have any,” Chris said. “It’s not something I use very often.”

  “You’ll want it this summer,” Macklin said. “Put it in your shoes to help the smell, in the seam of your pants to keep them from chafing in the heat. There’s some in the small kitchen. We can pick up more the next time we go to Boorowa for supplies.”

  “When is the next trip?” Chris asked, thinking about what he and Jesse hadn’t done in the shed tonight. “I’ve thought of a few more things I should probably pick up now that I’m earning a little money again.”

  “We go into town about once a month,” Macklin said. “If you give me a list, I can pick things up for you.”

  Chris blushed furiously, his cheeks burning in the cool night air. “Um, it’s personal stuff. I should probably pick it up myself if I can tag along.”

  Macklin chuckled and stood up, opening the door before turning back. “There’s nothing wrong with letting off a little steam now and then as long as both people are willing. Just make sure you both know what you’re doing.”

  “We didn’t, I mean, it’s none, I mean….”

  “I didn’t ask for an explanation,” Macklin reminded him. “You’re an adult and so is Jesse, if that’s who you were with, and if it’s not, as long as whoever it was is also an adult, it’s none of my business, as you said, but don’t turn my station into a war zone because you can’t keep it in your pants and aren’t mature enough to handle the consequences.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “Good. Make sure you keep it that way.”

  “WAS THAT Chris you were talking to on the porch?” Caine asked.

  Macklin stifled a curse. He’d hoped Caine would still be in the office. “He was sitting out there when I went out to unwind. It would have been rude not to talk to him.”

  “Mmhmm,” Caine said, an amused smile on his face. “I thought you said we shouldn’t meddle.”

  “Who was meddling?” Macklin retorted, refusing to let Caine discomfit him. “I asked him how his injuries were doing and if he enjoyed working with Neil and Max today.”

  “So you didn’t say anything about Jesse?” Caine teased.

  “He’s an adult, Caine,” Macklin said, his tone of voice telling Caine to drop it as they climbed up the stairs. “He doesn’t need us telling him what to do.”

  Caine grinned at him and slipped his arm around Macklin’s waist, his hand sliding lower to grope Macklin’s arse. “You keep telling yourself that if it makes it easier for you. I’ll just look forward to claiming my prize.”

  With a low growl, Macklin herded Caine into the bedroom, and that was the last of their coherent conversation for the night.

  Ten

  JESSE HAD no real idea what to expect when he walked into the canteen the next morning. He had gone back to his room at the bunkhouse in a daze the night before. He hadn’t been surprised exactly that he and Chris had had sex in the tractor shed—they’d been dancing around each other since the kiss—but he hadn’t wanted to assume it would happen so quickly either.

  That had left him wondering what Chris thought about their encounter. They were two healthy, single gay men. They had no reason not to blow off a little steam now and then, but they hadn’t set any ground rules, hadn’t established any boundaries. Jesse was fine with a little harmless recreational sex, but he wasn’t ready to settle down and start a family. He hoped Chris wouldn’t make their fun and games into more than he could let it be.

  They had to work at Lang Downs for the rest of the summer, if nothing else, and Jesse had seen how quickly moods could change when a jackaroo found out about him and decided to take exception to the way Jesse looked at him or talked to him. It never mattered that Jesse wouldn’t have given those guys the time of day even if they were gay and available. The ones he might actually be attracted to were never the ones with the hang-ups about him. No, it was always the ones who thought they were God’s gift to women, no matter how horrendous they really were.

  He didn’t think that would happen here. If nothing else, he didn’t think Caine and Macklin would fire him for messing around with Chris as long as Chris was willing. He was an adult, if a young one, and had proven his maturity by taking care of his brother for the past six months, but that didn�
�t mean the other jackaroos would be happy about it if they found out. Jesse just hoped Chris would play it cool.

  Reminding himself that Chris had already been burned once for letting the wrong people find out about him, Jesse took a deep breath and walked into the canteen, looking around automatically for Chris.

  Chris stood behind the serving line with Kami. He smiled and waved at Jesse when he came in, the same as he had done before their kiss and last night’s sex. Jesse released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Whatever else happened, at least this was back to normal. He tossed his hat on the table where he, Chris, and Seth always sat, and went to get breakfast.

  “Morning, Jesse,” Chris said as Jesse came through the line. “Are you helping with the shearing this morning?”

  “That’s the plan as far as I’ve heard,” Jesse replied, taking the scrambled eggs Chris offered. “Are you coming out to help or are you stuck in here all day?”

  “Kami said I could come help once we had lunch ready,” Chris said. “Go eat while it’s hot. I’ll come join you as soon as I can.”

  Just like that. Just like nothing had changed. Then again, maybe it hadn’t. Maybe this would be okay after all.

  “Why are you grinning?” Seth asked, interrupting Jesse’s thoughts.

  “What?” Jesse asked.

  “You had this look on your face like you’d just heard this great joke or this awesome secret. I want to know too.”

  “It’s nothing,” Jesse said, doing his best to school his expression.

  Seth didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, chattering instead about the things he and Jason had looked up online the night before while they were doing their schoolwork. “And did you know that the dot on top of the letter i is called a tittle?”

  “No, I didn’t,” Jesse replied. “And why were you looking that up last night?”

  “Well, we were talking about history and the printing press and copying manuscripts by hand, and it just sort of came up,” Seth said with a shrug.

  “Is he telling you about the tittle?” Chris asked, sitting down next to Jesse. “It was all he could talk about last night. I think he likes the way the word sounds.”

  “What?” Seth said defensively.

  “You know, tittle, tit,” Chris teased.

  “Well, not all of us are gay,” Seth retorted.

  “No, just two of the three of us,” Jesse replied, “and that’s your brother you’re talking about. Be nice to him.”

  “He’s my brother. I’m supposed to give him hell,” Seth said.

  “Not when he takes care of you the way Chris has,” Jesse insisted.

  “It’s fine, Jesse,” Chris said, nudging Jesse’s knee with his underneath the table. “I can take all the teasing he can dish out.”

  Jesse wanted to insist, but it wasn’t his place so he let it go.

  “Jesse has a secret and he won’t tell me what it is,” Seth announced, changing the subject. “You should see if he’ll tell you, Chris.”

  “Really?” Chris asked turning to Jesse.

  “It’s nothing,” Jesse said, knowing it was far more than nothing, but he didn’t know what Chris had told Seth, and Jesse didn’t want to let that cat out of the bag. “I like shearing. I’m looking forward to getting started for the day.”

  “Macklin’s already come and gone, so I bet they’ll be starting soon,” Chris said. “I have to help Kami get the sandwiches ready for lunch, but then Neil said I could help him with Max some this afternoon. Everyone’s been talking about what hard work shearing is. If you’re not exhausted this evening, we’ll have to go for a walk or something to help you unwind.”

  Translation: find someplace private where they could get each other off again. Jesse’s body reacted predictably to the suggestion, and he had to smother another grin. “We’ll see how the day goes.”

  “I promised Patrick I’d help him check the rest of the machinery they’ll need for the shearing today,” Seth said, bouncing up from the table. “I’d better go.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Jesse said, gulping the last of his coffee and grimacing a bit at the burn of hot liquid down his throat. “We’ll see you in the pens later, okay, Chris?”

  “Have a good morning,” Chris said, taking their plates to save them a trip back to the kitchen. “I’ll catch up with you when I can.”

  Jesse followed Seth out the door, glancing back over his shoulder at Chris one last time before letting the door swing shut behind him. Chris was whistling as he finished clearing the tables and grabbed a broom, holding it awkwardly because of his cast. Kami would be in the back washing dishes or possibly laying out the fixings for the platters of sandwiches he would have available for the jackaroos at lunch. Shaking his head at his own foolishness in wanting that last glimpse of Chris to get him through until lunch, Jesse turned on his heel and headed toward the tractor shed. The tractor itself was fixed, but Patrick had said he intended to check the rest of the farm machinery before releasing the mechanics to help with the shearing.

  Jesse was the first one into the shed so he started opening the windows and doors, letting the fresh air in. He knew it was only in his memories that the smell of sex lingered in the air, but he saw no reason to take chances, especially since Patrick preferred to work with the doors and windows open, weather permitting.

  He’d finished the preparations, setting out Patrick’s tool box before opening the engine casing on the combine. Patrick came in a moment later. “You’re on the ball this morning,” he said.

  Jesse shrugged. “I was awake. I didn’t see any reason to wait.”

  “Let’s get this done,” Patrick said.

  Jesse nodded and started checking the spark plugs on the combine. A few minutes later, Patrick cursed under his breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Jesse asked. “Is something broken?”

  “No, I must have been in a real rush yesterday. My wrench wasn’t in the right place,” Patrick explained. “That’s what I get for being so obsessive.”

  Jesse frowned. He didn’t remember Patrick rushing at the end of the day before, and the man was definitely a creature of habit. He had that toolbox so organized he could reach in and pull out what he needed, down to the right size drill bit, without even looking.

  A snicker caught Jesse’s attention, but when he looked sharply at Jason and Seth cleaning up on the other side of the shed, neither of them gave any sign of paying attention to Patrick and Jesse.

  A moment later, Patrick cursed again. “Now I know I didn’t put the pliers back in the wrong place because I didn’t even use them yesterday.”

  Concerned now, Jesse stopped what he was doing and walked around the combine to where Patrick stood staring into his toolbox.

  “Someone’s playing jokes,” Patrick said with a frown. “Nothing is in the right place.”

  “Seth!” Jesse called, his voice sharp. “Come here.”

  “Yes, Jesse?” Seth asked, coming over to where Jesse and Patrick stood. He was trying to keep a straight face, but Jesse recognized the mischief in his eyes.

  “Is there something you’d like to say to Patrick?” Jesse said.

  “No, is there a reason I should say something to Patrick?” Seth asked, losing his battle to hold back a smile.

  “You little shite,” Jesse said, grabbing Seth’s collar and giving him a shake. “You’re going to sit down right now and put everything back the way you found it, and then you’re going to spend your evenings over the next week helping Patrick at his place with anything he asks you to do.”

  “You aren’t my boss,” Seth said.

  “You want me to tell Caine and Macklin about this?” Jesse asked. “I can go get them right now and see what they think a fitting punishment would be.”

  “It was just a harmless prank,” Seth muttered.

  “Sit down,” Jesse said, giving Seth a push in Patrick’s direction, “and get busy.”

  Seth glared at him but did as Jesse ordered, sitti
ng down next to Patrick’s tool box and starting to sort all the tools back out. “And apologize to Patrick while you’re at it,” Jesse said. “He didn’t do anything to deserve your pranks.”

  “How did you know it was Seth?” Patrick asked.

  “Besides the way he didn’t play it cool? I caught him once before playing a trick on Chris,” Jesse explained. “It didn’t make him guilty, but it made him the prime suspect.”

  “And that’s a lesson for you both,” Patrick said to Seth and Jason. “Once you get a reputation, you’re halfway to being found guilty the next time something happens, even if you aren’t involved.”

  “You won’t tell Chris, will you?” Seth asked, his voice small.

  “As long as you don’t play any more tricks,” Patrick said. Jesse nodded his agreement.

  CHRIS THOUGHT Seth looked a little subdued when he joined the others to help with the shearing. He couldn’t hold the sheep and run the clipper along their skin with his arm in a cast, but Neil let him borrow Max to help drive the sheep into the outer paddocks once they were sheared. Chris chuckled every time one of the newly denuded animals came rushing out of the shearing shed, bleating madly. Max hardly needed directions, catching and herding them to the proper paddock based as much on where Neil was standing as on anything Chris said. The cavorting of the released sheep, especially the little ones, made him smile, though, and that made the dust and noise that much less annoying. Chris figured he was lucky, outside in the fresh air instead of inside the shearing shed where it was surely hot and sticky and otherwise miserable. Certainly the faces of the jackaroos who took turns manning the gate to catch a hint of breeze were red and dripping with sweat. Chris tried not to stare at the bare chests of many of the men, figuring that wouldn’t go over well, even though he thought he caught a couple of the jillaroos who were also working with the dogs giving the men a thorough once over. All except Molly, Chris noticed. She seemed to have eyes only for Neil, and since it was pretty much mutual, Chris hoped Neil would get his happy ending. While he tended to think of owing Macklin his life, Neil had been there as well, helping to run off his attackers, and Chris certainly appreciated his willingness since then to teach Chris about the station.