Lang Downs

by Ariel Tachna

  To Macklin’s relief, everyone nodded in agreement, none of them seeming uncomfortable with the request. He hadn’t expected anyone to refuse. He just hadn’t wanted them to feel accused, either of using drugs themselves or of protecting the one who had. Fortunately they didn’t seem to have taken the announcement that way.

  “So that’s obviously the bad news,” Patrick said. “What’s the good news?”

  “The good news is that my mother, who you got to meet over the weekend, has agreed to move to the station,” Macklin said. He still couldn’t quite believe she’d said yes, but he had the modified plans for her house in the office, and they’d already ordered the supplies they’d need to begin work on it. “There’s space in the big house for guests, of course, but that would only be comfortable for so long, so I’m hoping you’ll all be willing to pitch in and help us put up a house for her.”

  The cheer was nearly deafening, driving home to Macklin how completely the men and women in this room had become his family. Maybe they didn’t know the details of his childhood or what had led him to run away and end up on the station, but they had clearly seen the delight he’d felt in having his mother back, and they’d taken that to heart.

  “So where are you going to build it?”

  “How big is it going to be?”

  “When is she moving?”

  The flood of questions continued, too fast and overlapping for Macklin to even begin to answer them. He met Caine’s eyes and laughed with the sheer joy of the moment.

  “HE LOOKS happy,” Sam said to Jeremy as everyone crowded around Macklin and Caine, asking questions about Macklin’s mother.

  “He does,” Jeremy agreed. “I’ve known him for a long time. Not well, necessarily, but he’s always had this brooding air to him, like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

  “He doesn’t look that way now.”

  “No,” Jeremy said, “he doesn’t. I’m glad it worked out. When you first told me what Caine was doing, I was worried. I didn’t know how she’d react to him and Caine or how Macklin would react to the surprise, but it looks like I worried for nothing.”

  “And now she’s moving here,” Sam said. “I’m so happy for him. I need to talk to him and Caine about something else, but it can wait until tomorrow.”

  “What’s going on?” Jeremy asked, concerned at the subdued expression on Sam’s face.

  “I got the summons for the divorce hearing. I have to be in Melbourne on July 24, so I’ll need at least two, possibly three days off to get down there, attend the hearing, and then get back. I don’t have a car, so I’ll either have to borrow Neil’s or take the bus again. If I take the bus, that means someone has to drive me to Yass and come pick me up again, but I don’t really feel comfortable driving off the station by myself.”

  “I’ll come with you, if you’d like,” Jeremy said, “although you’d run the risk of Alison asking who I am or what I’m doing there.”

  Sam was silent for so long that Jeremy grew concerned. “Sam?”

  “I want to tell her to bugger off, that it’s none of her business who I’m with now since she’s the one who kicked me out, but I’m afraid of what she’s capable of,” Sam explained. “I don’t want anything to delay the divorce. I’ve been in the closet my whole life. I can live with it for another eight weeks.”

  “It’s up to you,” Jeremy said. He certainly didn’t want to do anything that might delay the divorce proceedings, but he hated the idea of Sam having to face his ex alone and without any support. “You’re welcome to borrow my car, for that matter, if Neil needs his for some reason. I’m not going anywhere. Or I could drive with you as far as Seymour or one of the outlying suburbs. You could go the rest of the way in by yourself and then join me after the hearing is over. That way you wouldn’t be alone.”

  “That’s really kind of you,” Sam said. “I’m not sure we should both ask Caine to be gone for three days at the same time, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “You don’t have to decide tonight,” Jeremy reminded him. “It’s still over a month away. There’s time to think about it and make plans.”

  “So how long will it take to build the house for Macklin’s mum?” Sam asked.

  Jeremy accepted the change of subject. “Six to eight weeks, probably,” he said, “depending on how long it takes to get all the supplies. It won’t be anything fancy, more like Ian or Kyle’s house than like the big house. Four walls and a roof, a few interior walls, some windows… even if it isn’t completely finished that fast, she’ll be able to move in as they finish putting the final touches on everything.”

  “That’s fast,” Sam said. “Or maybe it isn’t. I don’t really have any idea how long it takes to build a house.”

  “It depends on how big and complicated you want it,” Jeremy said, “but for something simple, it won’t take that long. If you’re going to stay here permanently, you might want to think about designing a place too. Living in the bunkhouse can get old after a while.”

  “Where else would I go?” Sam asked. “I have a job here and you’re here. Unless you aren’t planning on staying….”

  “The only place I’d go if I left here would be back to Taylor Peak,” Jeremy said, “but it would take one hell of an apology from Devlin before I’d consider it. Until that happens, this is home.”

  “Then it’s home for both of us. Maybe after Macklin’s mum’s house is done, we could talk to him about building something for ourselves.”

  “I’d like that,” Jeremy said, squeezing Sam’s hand under the table. “Since we wouldn’t be paying for land, just for materials, maybe Caine and Macklin would float us a loan. It’s not like we have a lot of expenses, living out here, so we could pay them back pretty quickly.”

  Sam smiled and returned the squeeze. “We’re doing this all backward, you know. We’ve only kissed a few times and now we’re talking about building a house together.”

  “You mean because we haven’t slept together?” Jeremy asked. Sam nodded. “It’s not about sex. It’s about our relationship. I mean, I’m certainly not going to complain about being able to take you to bed when your divorce is final, but I won’t love you more because of it, just like I don’t love you less now for having to wait.”

  Sam looked completely gobsmacked. Jeremy paused for a second, trying to figure out what had put that look on Sam’s face. Surely he hadn’t said anything Sam would disagree with.

  “Did you mean it?” Sam asked after a moment. “You really love me?”

  Jeremy had to replay what he’d said for a moment before he realized what had come out of his mouth. He’d meant it. Of course he’d meant it. He just hadn’t intended to say it for the first time under quite this set of circumstances.

  He looked around the room at the other year-rounders. No one was paying them any attention, but he couldn’t guarantee it would stay that way, and he didn’t want to be interrupted. “This is the wrong place for that discussion,” he said. “Let’s go back to the bunkhouse, where we’ll have some privacy.”

  Sam nodded and followed Jeremy back to the bunkhouse. Arrow and Hawk met them as soon as they stepped outside, the kitten perched, as always, on the dog’s back. When they reached the bunkhouse and went inside, Sam plucked Hawk from Arrow’s back and cuddled her against his chest. Jeremy felt his heart sink. That wasn’t exactly the reaction he was hoping for. Sam only cuddled her like that when she asked for it or when he was upset.

  Jeremy sat on the couch and patted the space next to him. Sam joined him there, Hawk still clutched tightly in his arms.

  “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” Jeremy said. “It just slipped out.”

  “So you meant it?” Sam asked. “You love me?”

  “I really meant it,” Jeremy said. “I hadn’t planned on bungling it quite that way or, honestly, on saying anything until your divorce went through. I didn’t want you to feel pressured or like you had to stay with me just because I’d fallen for you,
but—”

  Jeremy never got a chance to finish his sentence because Sam kissed him. Hawk hissed between them until Sam let her go. When she squirmed her way free, Sam scooted even closer, kissing Jeremy with something approaching desperation.

  Jeremy returned the kiss with the same fervor. Sam hadn’t said the words back, but it didn’t matter. The kiss was more than enough answer for Jeremy.

  When they separated, both of them panting slightly for breath, Jeremy rested his forehead against Sam’s. “So, barring the delivery, you’re okay with this?”

  “I think I started falling for you the first time I saw you, when you didn’t back down from Neil but didn’t goad him on either,” Sam replied. “I just couldn’t figure out—still can’t figure out—what you see in me, so I didn’t say anything.”

  There were so many things Jeremy could say to that, but he wasn’t sure words would be enough to convince Sam, and yet he couldn’t take him to bed and show him that way, especially not after he’d just told Sam it wasn’t about the sex. Time was his greatest ally here. He’d simply keep loving Sam, keep supporting and believing in him until Sam finally woke up one day and realized how special he was to Jeremy. “I see you,” he said. “That’s all I need.”

  “Come with me to Melbourne,” Sam said. “Alison can bugger off, for all I care. If she asks, I’ll tell her you drove me in since I don’t have a car, but that’s as far as I’m going to let her control me now. If she wants to tell the judge I’m sleeping with you, I’ll be able to honestly answer I’m not, even if the only reason I’m not is so that I can swear it before the judge, and if he decides in her favor, I’ll just find a way to pay her whatever he decides I have to. I’m not leaving Lang Downs, so it’s not like I have to worry about losing my job because I’m gay, or not being able to find another one, or anything like that. I’ve let her control me for too long.”

  Epilogue

  SAM NEARLY turned around and walked back out of Neil and Molly’s house when he saw the sign that hung in their living room: “Happy Divorce Day!”

  He was certainly happy his divorce was final. He’d been waiting for this day since he and Alison had separated, even more since he arrived at Lang Downs, but to have a party? Sam was a little more private than that.

  “Relax,” Jeremy murmured behind him. “Neil only invited our friends, not the whole station.”

  Thank God for small favors.

  Of course the room was still crowded. Neil’s definition of their friends was larger than Sam’s, not that Sam would have refused to let any of the attendees come, if asked. He just might not have invited them if he’d been given a say in the guest list.

  Which was probably why Neil hadn’t asked him.

  “Come on,” Jeremy said, urging Sam toward the table Molly had laid out full of food. “You’ll be more comfortable once you’ve got a plate and something to drink.”

  Sam let himself be led. He filled the plate Jeremy gave him, seeing Kami’s hand in some of the dishes as well as Molly’s. Then Kami came out of Molly’s kitchen with another tray, Sarah right behind him, fussing at him. Kami looked for all the world like a henpecked husband, and Sam couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face at the sight.

  “Do you suppose the station will ever get used to that?” Sam asked.

  Jeremy grinned. “The seasonal blokes don’t think anything of it, not the new ones anyway, but no, I don’t think we’ll get used to it anytime soon.”

  Sarah had moved back to Lang Downs as expected, and the year-rounders had thrown all their effort into getting her house ready as quickly as possible. Before it was done, she had walked into the office one day while Sam, Caine, and Macklin were going over the accounts and announced that if it wasn’t too much trouble, she didn’t really need the house after all since she’d be moving in with Kami. Sam was pretty sure he could have knocked Macklin over with a feather right then.

  Caine hadn’t batted an eyelash, just turned to Sam and asked if he’d like a house, as if that had been the intention all along. Sam had agreed on two conditions: that he be allowed to pay the station back for the materials over time, and that Jeremy be allowed to move into it with him.

  Caine had argued the first and looked at Sam like he’d lost his mind for even worrying about the second.

  “You’re blocking the line.” Jeremy bumped his hip against Sam’s, startling Sam out of his memories.

  “Sorry. Just thinking.”

  “No worries.” Jeremy leaned in and kissed Sam swiftly, catching Sam off guard.

  “I can do that now, remember?” Jeremy said when Sam tensed automatically. “No one here cares, and no one not here has any say in your life anymore.”

  It took Sam a minute to remember. He’d gotten more confident around the year-rounders. Jeremy was right that no one at the party tonight would be surprised at seeing them kiss. They hadn’t made a habit of public displays of affection, but their blooming relationship wasn’t a revelation either.

  Sam’s sexuality hadn’t come up at the divorce hearing, much to his relief. The judge had read over the settlement agreement and signed it without change or comment, and the thirty-day waiting period had passed with no contact from Alison. She was no longer a part of his life and never had to be again.

  “It’s not that,” he said, although he still had to remind himself sometimes that it was over and he was free. “It’s just… private, you know? Something for us, not for them.”

  “I’m certainly not planning on doing anything more than kissing you while they’re around,” Jeremy said, “but you don’t blink when Neil kisses Molly. It shouldn’t be any different when we kiss.”

  “It won’t be,” Sam promised. “I’m just still getting used to the idea that we can be together without having to hide or pretend it’s less than it is. Can you be patient with me a little longer?”

  “As long as you need,” Jeremy replied, nudging Sam with his shoulder.

  Sam smiled in relief. He’d hoped that would be Jeremy’s answer. Impulsively, he leaned over and kissed Jeremy in return.

  “Hey, you two,” Neil shouted from across the room. “Save the making out for after the party.”

  Sam flipped his brother off and gave Jeremy another quick kiss.

  Maybe he wouldn’t need as much time as he’d thought.

  To Janelle Taylor, who introduced me to romance when I was twelve and reminded me to write the story that calls to me most when we met in Kansas City this year.

  One

  FIRE LICKED over his skin, smoke choking him. He tried to flee, but he couldn’t make his arms and legs move. He gasped for breath, trying to reach the source of the screams he could hear. He knew those voices, had known them better than his own, but he couldn’t find them. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. It burned. Oh, it burned.

  With a muffled scream, Thorne brought himself out of the nightmare. He scrubbed his hands over his face, his short beard catching on his raw palms. Fuck, he hated fire. With everything the army had beaten out of and into him in his twenty years of service, they hadn’t been able to drive out his hatred of or fascination with fire.

  He pushed open the flap of the tent he slept in, trying to decide if the light on the horizon was the dawn or the glow from the grassfires that had broken out all across the tablelands of New South Wales in the past month. He’d shipped out at the first reports, and he’d be here fighting for every inch of ground until the last fire was out or until the fire had taken him too. It would almost be a relief, but he wouldn’t give it the satisfaction.

  He snorted at the personification, as if the flames making their way through the outback cared who or what stood in their way. Thorne cared, though, and he’d be damned if he’d let the grassfires win.

  CAINE NEIHEISEL stared at the new report detailing acres burned, property damaged, and the reporter’s prognosis for the grassfires that raged north of the sheep station. He’d been lucky, he supposed, to have made it seven years at Lang Downs wi
thout a serious fire. They were careful every summer, of course, not wanting to risk starting a fire on the station itself, but always before, the winter and spring had been wet enough to carry them through the summer without any serious threat. This season, they weren’t so lucky.

  “Staring at the telly won’t change anything.”

  “I know.” Caine didn’t look up at the sound of Macklin’s voice. His lover and partner had been on the station for more than thirty years now. He was inured to whatever the outback threw at them. Caine wasn’t nearly as sanguine. “I’m tracking the progress, trying to decide if we should be worried.”

  “We should always be worried when fires get out of control, but watching it on the telly isn’t the way to deal with it.”

  “So what is?”

  “We move the sheep down into the valley,” Macklin said, “and then we build firebreaks all the way around the rim. We’ll lose fences, maybe even the drovers’ huts, but we’ll protect the livestock and the station proper. Fences and huts can be replaced.”

  “Okay,” Caine said, standing and reaching for his hat. “Let’s get busy.”

  THORNE SHOVELED dirt on the approaching flames, trying to smother them before they could reach the firebreak behind him, but the wind had picked up that afternoon, whipping the smoldering embers into determined flames that he couldn’t fight with dirt alone. He didn’t stop trying. He’d never given up a fight in his life; he wasn’t going to stop now. He took a step back as the heat became intolerable even with his protective gear. The flames might be winning, but Thorne would make them work for every inch of ground they devoured.

  He ignored the shouts around him. Half of them or more were echoes of other battles, a different kind of firefight. They couldn’t be allowed to govern his actions in this fight. People were counting on him. He’d seen a building over the crest of the nearest hill as he’d gone out to meet the fires early that morning, and buildings meant people.