by Ariel Tachna
Chris’s attempts at not staring failed completely when Jesse took his turn at the gate. He’d stripped off the green work shirt he’d been wearing earlier, the one that made his eyes seem an even brighter color (not that Chris would admit to noticing, but he wasn’t blind, was he?), and stood at the gate bare from the waist up. Their fumbling in the tractor shed last night hadn’t prepared him for the impact that seeing Jesse, sweaty and disheveled and looking every bit the stockman in his low-hanging jeans, hat, and boots, would have on him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as Jesse opened the gate and let a few more sheep out to be sent to higher meadows. Fortunately for Chris, Max knew his job and met the sheep, keeping them from darting back toward the paddocks where they’d spent the winter. Chris certainly didn’t have a working brain cell left over to tell Max what to do. They were all focused on Jesse and on planning how soon Chris could get him alone again, because now that he’d seen Jesse’s chest, not quite bulky but definitely more muscular than Chris was, pale from winter but covered in a mat of dark hair to match the hair on his head, Chris wouldn’t be able to keep from touching for long. Somehow he doubted molesting Jesse in the middle of the paddocks in broad daylight was a good idea. He’d have to bide his time and see if he could drag Jesse behind the bunkhouse or something when everyone took a break for lunch and headed to the canteen.
He had to do something or he’d never survive the rest of the day, thinking of Jesse working inside the shed, his muscles bunching and straining as he held the sheep in place or lifted the heavy bags of wool out of the way so other sheep could come in.
“Chris!”
Neil’s voice brought Chris back to the present.
“Sorry,” he called back, going after a sheep that had broken away from the others. Fortunately the system of paddocks around the shed had been designed to keep the sheep from getting far even if they did run the wrong way. Out in the higher paddocks where they could graze at will for the summer, they wouldn’t be so constrained, but down in the valley, their movements were closely controlled. Chris chased the sheep back toward the others. Max met him at Neil’s command and finished the job.
“What were you dreaming about, mate?” Neil asked. “You had the oddest look on your face.”
“Nothing,” Chris said. “How’s Molly?”
It was an underhanded move but one Chris knew would work. Neil was happiest when he was talking about his dog or his girl.
Chris managed to stay sufficiently plugged into the conversation that he missed Jesse going back inside. Macklin had taken Jesse’s place at the gate, and Chris couldn’t stop himself from boggling a bit. He wasn’t attracted to Macklin the same way he was attracted to Jesse, but that didn’t stop him from appreciating a well-built man when he saw one. Chris knew Macklin had to be in his forties based on bits of conversation he’d overheard, but he didn’t look it. He was leaner than Jesse, more whipcord than built, but he looked like he was chiseled out of stone, and when he pushed his hat back and wiped his forehead with the tail of the shirt he’d tucked in the back pocket of his pants, Chris couldn’t help the weak-kneed feeling that swept through him. Then Caine came out of the shed, bare-chested as well, and joined his lover. He wasn’t quite as solid as Macklin, but visions of the two of them together swam in front of Chris’s eyes, leaving him hot and bothered and suddenly ready for a break.
“Neil, I’m going to find some more Nurofen. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Neil waved to show he’d heard Chris, and Chris hurried back to the station house. He couldn’t hide in the bathroom and jerk off—it just felt too awkward with his left hand—but he could at least cool off for a minute. He wet a washcloth and wiped his face and neck. He hadn’t taken his own shirt off, since the breeze off the highlands was cool. It hadn’t been the weather making him hot and bothered.
“Chris?”
“Upstairs,” Chris called. “In the bathroom.”
Chris heard the creak of the stairs as Jesse came up to join him. “Maybe I shouldn’t come in,” Jesse said from the doorway. “The last time I did, we nearly got caught.”
Chris grinned and reached for Jesse’s belt, tugging him into the bathroom and pushing the door closed. “Maybe you should come in,” he disagreed. “Everyone else is outside.”
“Where we really should be,” Jesse pointed out, though he made no move to pull away.
“We’ll go back out,” Chris said, leaning in to nibble at Jesse’s lower lip. “In a minute.”
“We shouldn’t do this during working hours,” Jesse said, even as he kissed Chris back. “Caine and Macklin won’t care that we’re gay and they probably won’t care that we’re messing around, but they’ll have every reason to protest if us messing around interferes with us doing our jobs.”
“You think too much,” Chris said, slipping his hand beneath the shirt Jesse had put back on. “Why’d you get dressed again?”
“Because I was coming in the boss’s house,” Jesse replied, pulling back finally. “Is that what has you all worked up?”
“Well, that and seeing Caine and Macklin standing together,” Chris admitted. “I guess I’d never really looked at them, but bloody hell they’re hot.”
Jesse laughed. “Should I be worried?”
“They’ll never look at me,” Chris said. “Why would they when they have each other?”
“That didn’t answer my question,” Jesse said, his voice still sounding amused, fortunately.
“No, you shouldn’t be worried,” Chris said firmly. “I noticed you before I noticed them, and thinking about them, it’s like watching porn. It’s imagining them together, not imagining me in the mix. If I’m going to do that, I’m going to think about you.”
“I like the sound of that,” Jesse said, “but we’re not doing anything, real or imagined, until after dinner.” He opened the bathroom door and pulled Chris with him. “Come on. You’ve been gone long enough to get something for the pain. It’s time to get back to work.”
Chris let Jesse lead him back downstairs, although he did stop to steal another kiss as they put their boots back on before heading back outside. “So where should I meet you after work?” Chris asked as they neared the shearing shed again.
“I don’t know,” Jesse said. “I’ll think of something and let you know.”
“Oh, Jesse, there you are,” Caine said. “I was hoping you and Chris would be willing to do something for me.”
“Sure, if we can,” Jesse said as Chris nodded.
“You probably noticed the drover’s huts as we drove in,” Caine said. “We have them scattered around the station as shelter for anyone who spends a night out in the paddocks and for anyone who might need them for other reasons: a storm, a power outage, whatever. The buildings themselves are in pretty good shape, but nobody can tell me what’s in any of them beyond the basics of a couple of cots. I’m hoping you two will be willing to inventory them for me and then stock them with supplies. I spent a couple of nights in the huts last fall, so I’ve made a list of things all the huts should have. We can load up one of the pickups with supplies. You can check each hut and add anything that’s missing before you go on. That way we’ll know all the huts are ready for the jackaroos before we move the sheep into the farther paddocks.”
“I don’t know how much I can carry, but I can certainly open drawers and see what’s there,” Chris said, mind racing at the thought of all that time spent alone with Jesse. “What do you say, Jesse?”
“I’ve spent enough nights outdoors to appreciate the possibility of a hut,” Jesse said. “I’d be glad to help. When did you want us to do this?”
“In a couple of days,” Caine said. “We’ll have to pack the supplies and then load the pickup. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”
“Do you need us to help pack stuff up?” Jesse asked.
“No, I’ll get Carley to put the kids to work doing that,” Caine said. “They can count out batteries and flashlights and jars of Vegemite. We don�
�t need to pull you away from the shearing for something they’ll get a kick out of doing.”
“Then we’ll get back to work,” Jesse said, starting back toward the shearing shed. Chris followed more slowly, not quite able to let go of the mental picture of Caine and Macklin together. He’d have an even harder time ignoring the occasional sounds that filtered from the other bedroom now that he’d seen them together.
Eleven
“HERE’S A list of everything Macklin and I decided should be in each of the drover’s huts,” Caine said, joining Chris and Jesse at breakfast three days later. “The younger kids have packed boxes of supplies, so all you have to do is check each hut and replenish anything that’s low or missing.”
Jesse took the list and scanned down it: non-perishables, flashlights, fresh batteries and bulbs, clean blankets, first aid kit, matches, water.
“Also, while you’re driving around, if you notice any roads that need dragging or anything else that seems in disrepair, if you could make a note of it,” Caine said. “We’ve had men out checking the fences, but they’ve been on horseback, which means they haven’t necessarily been on the roads or through the same areas of the station as you’ll go through in the truck. That goes for any time you’re out, actually. We’d rather replace a fence post now than have to replace an entire fence later.”
“Will do,” Jesse said. He’d managed to avoid thinking about the hours spent alone in the ute and the drover’s huts with Chris, if only to keep himself sane until the time came to head out, but that time was here now, and the anticipation was killing him. He and Chris had only managed a few stolen moments behind the tractor shed over the past few nights. Something always seemed to interrupt, either someone coming to get something or, one night, the sheep suddenly going wild. They’d found a snake trampled beneath all the hooves when they finally calmed the sheep down and could assess the situation, so then they’d had to check all the animals in the area for bites. Fortunately they hadn’t found any bite marks and none of the sheep seemed sick, just scared. It had served as a reminder to Jesse that even here in the main part of the station, they had to be aware of their surroundings. He didn’t know if Chris would know the difference between a harmless snake and a poisonous one, but in the dark, it would be nearly impossible to tell and the wrong choice could be a deadly one. He hadn’t suggested they meet outside after dark since then, but with the days growing longer, everyone seemed to be working later hours, which meant the barns didn’t provide a lot of privacy either. Jesse supposed he could invite Chris to his room in the bunkhouse, but the walls were paper thin, and he didn’t really want the others overhearing anything. Chris’s room in the main house was even less of an option with Seth in the next room and Caine and Macklin just down the hall. He knew they had work to do while they were out today, but at least they’d be alone, away from prying eyes, and if they spent a few minutes doing other things, well, as long as the work was done, surely no one would care.
As soon as breakfast was over, Jesse headed out to the ute. Chris followed a few minutes later, equally eager for some time alone if the expression on his face was any indication. “Shall we get started?” Jesse asked, looking down at the rough map of the drover’s huts Macklin had given him as he was leaving the canteen.
“Sure,” Chris said with a smile. “I’ve got a pad so I can take notes for Caine and Macklin.”
“Good thought,” Jesse said. “That way we can be as specific as possible.”
“Do you have a radio?” Chris asked. “Macklin said anyone who leaves the valley is supposed to take a radio, just in case.”
“It’s already in the ute,” Jesse said. “Come on, let’s get started.”
Chris climbed in and fastened his seatbelt. “Let’s go.”
“MEDDLING AGAIN?” Macklin asked Caine as the black ute headed out of the main station.
“It’s not meddling,” Caine insisted, as Macklin had known he would. “We’ve been saying this needed to be done, and Chris really can’t help with the shearing, but he can do this.”
“And you just happened to suggest Jesse go with him,” Macklin replied. “Instead of Neil or Kyle or one of the others who knows his way around the station. They’re as likely to get lost as they are to find the drover’s huts.”
“Jesse has a good head on his shoulders, and he has the map you drew with the huts marked,” Caine said. “The roads might be a little overgrown from the winter, but they’ll still be visible. They’ll be fine.”
“In other words, you were meddling again,” Macklin said.
Caine grinned at him, that saucy smile that had enchanted Macklin from the moment he first saw it, even when he still worried Caine would change his mind and sell the station out from under them. Macklin didn’t jump when Caine patted his arse as he walked away, but only because they were outside. He never let his control slip where the jackaroos could see.
He knew what Caine wanted, had known for some time, but knowing wasn’t the same as doing. Macklin couldn’t even really say what was holding him back. He’d let go of all his doubts about Caine and his commitment to the station—and to Macklin—about the same time he’d kissed Caine in front of a half-dozen jackaroos, but this wasn’t about trusting Caine to stay on. It was about control of himself. He’d seen his father out of control too many times to be comfortable with the idea, and the one time he hadn’t reined himself in, the results had been devastating. He’d sworn never to be out of control again.
Maybe it was time to consider loosening those reins, at least where this one thing was concerned.
THE ROADS crisscrossing Lang Downs weren’t quite as bumpy as Chris remembered them from his arrival on the station, but they were hardly smooth either. He tried to keep track on the map of where they were going and to mark the most pitted places for repair, although he had no idea whether what he considered bad would seem that way to someone used to life on a station.
Some days he felt like he’d gone down the rabbit hole with Alice.
He could deal with that most of the time, and he knew he had the man sitting next to him to thank for that. Jesse had been his touchstone since he arrived. He glanced sideways, wishing he had the nerve to turn and drink in Jesse’s appearance the way he wanted to do, but even with the intimacies they’d shared, even knowing they’d do so again the next time an opportunity presented itself, he felt strange staring openly, like that was somehow a violation of some unspoken agreement.
They weren’t together like Caine and Macklin were, a couple united against the world. They were fucking around from time to time. No harm in that, but it wasn’t the same kind of relationship, the kind that let Caine stand comfortably in Macklin’s personal space or that let Macklin climb the stairs to sleep in Caine’s bed at night. Chris didn’t claim to understand the routine that left Macklin sitting on the veranda alone watching the stars before going upstairs to join his lover, but Chris had seen it happen enough nights to accept it. Those heavy, measured treads signaled the end of the day. When Macklin came upstairs, the downstairs lights were off, the doors were closed, and it was time for bed, even if not always time for sleep, to judge by the sounds that filtered down the hallway as many nights as not.
Chris didn’t have that with Jesse and didn’t delude himself that he would have it any time soon, certainly not living under Caine and Macklin’s roof. If he stayed at Lang Downs, he could move into the bunkhouse or maybe see about moving into one of the smaller houses if there was one empty, since he’d have Seth to share it with. Or maybe Seth could stay at Caine and Macklin’s while Chris moved to the bunkhouse if a separate house wasn’t available. Even in the bunkhouse, though, it wouldn’t be like it was for Caine and Macklin. He and Jesse might mess around. They might even sleep together sometimes, but not like that.
Someday maybe he’d have a man like that in his life, a relationship to build a lifetime on. Someday when he had his shit together and could actually make decisions for himself. It wouldn’t be tomorrow, bu
t Caine and Macklin were proof it could happen, even out here in the outback.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Jesse said, his voice breaking into Chris’s thoughts. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Chris said quickly. A little too quickly, to judge by the look Jesse threw him. “Just thinking about Caine and Macklin.”
“You’re going to give me a complex here,” Jesse joked.
“Not like that,” Chris said with a roll of his eyes. “The way they live together. The way they rely on each other. It’s probably silly, but I look at them and….”
“And think there might be hope for guys like us,” Jesse finished.
Chris nodded.
“I’ve worked on eight stations in the last ten years,” Jesse said, “and I’ve never seen anything like them, not even with a grazier and his wife. They make me believe in things I’d started thinking were impossible. Maybe not anywhere else, but here, at least. I’ve never wanted to stay on a station for the winter. I’ve always gone back to Melbourne or Sydney to crash with friends. Even at the two stations I worked at for a second summer, I didn’t want to stay. It’s different here, though. I could stay here.”
“Yeah, I get the idea this is that kind of place,” Chris agreed. “Or maybe that’s just who I’m spending time with. Kami, Neil, Patrick… they’re all year-rounders, as dedicated to the station as Caine and Macklin are. Maybe some of the seasonal jackaroos feel differently.”
“Not really,” Jesse said. “I mean, there are a lot who aren’t ready to settle down or who see this as something different to do for a few years as a break after uni, or before uni, but quite a few of them come back summer after summer because working here is different.”