by Ariel Tachna
“Mmhmm,” Ian replied. “Cold without you.”
Thorne didn’t deserve the grace by which he’d earned Ian’s forgiveness, but he didn’t question it. He simply climbed in bed behind Ian and curved around him. Ian snuggled back against him, grabbed Thorne’s hand, and pulled it over his chest with a contented sigh. That only redoubled Thorne’s determination. He needed to be able to give this to Ian every night, and that meant getting help so he could make that promise and be able to keep it.
He pressed a sleepy kiss to the spot below Ian’s ear and relaxed back into slumber. Ian would wake them when it was time. Until then, Thorne was content to stay right where he was.
THORNE DIDN’T know how long they slept before Ian rolled over in his arms and kissed him. He tightened his hold and kissed Ian back, uncaring of morning breath or anything other than making sure Ian knew Thorne still loved him and always would.
When they finally broke apart to breathe, Thorne rested his forehead against Ian’s. “I nearly did something unforgivable last night,” he said softly, “and I’m pretty sure I left a dent in your wall.” He took a deep breath and plowed on. “I meant what I said when I told you I love you. Maybe I shouldn’t have said it the way I did or when I did, but I’m not sorry I said it, only that I didn’t say it for the first time under better circumstances. But for me to be able to stay here and keep the promises inherent in saying that, I need help. I lost myself last night for a while. I blacked out completely and while I was out, I punched the wall enough times to leave a dent and to tear up my hand. I can’t ask you to live with me like that, and I can’t ask Caine and Macklin to let me stay on the station like that. There’s a treatment center in Wagga Wagga. I’m going to check myself in there until I can get this under control, but I’m coming back. I swear I’m coming back.”
Ian tightened his arms around him.
“I’ll come back,” Thorne repeated. “I hate the idea of leaving, especially now, but I won’t put you in danger.”
“You didn’t hurt me last night,” Ian said.
“No, but you weren’t in the room,” Thorne said. “I don’t remember any of it. I don’t even know if I was aware of what I was doing as I did it. I could have hurt you without meaning to. You were smart enough to get away, but what if Dani had been there, or Laura? Even if I didn’t hurt them, it would scare them, and they haven’t done anything to deserve that. None of you have. I thought about this a lot last night. Between the doctors on base and the ones at the mental health facility in Wagga Wagga, I’ll get help. I’ll get it under control, and I’ll come home.”
“Home?” Ian said.
“Lang Downs is home,” Thorne swore. “You and Neil and Kami were all right. There’s something special about this valley, and I intend to be a part of that magic for a very long time, but I’d never forgive myself if I hurt someone. Let me do this right, and when I come home, we’ll set some guidelines so I don’t scare you like I did last night, and we’ll take care of each other and mend the ragged edges.”
“As long as you come home.”
“I will,” Thorne said, “and I’ll call you every day if they let me. If not, I’ll write. I’m not leaving you. I’m just going to get help so we can be together, okay?”
“Okay,” Ian said. “I guess we should get up and tell Caine and Macklin. I’m pretty sure we’ve missed breakfast.”
“Will they still be around?” Thorne asked.
“I don’t know. If they aren’t, we’ll find them at lunch or dinner. I know, the sooner you go, the sooner you can come back, but you can wait to leave until you’ve explained,” Ian said.
“We’ll hope they’re in the office or the sheds, then,” Thorne said, “because I want to come back as soon as possible. I have promises to keep.”
“Me too,” Ian said. “I couldn’t say it last night—I was too upset—but I love you too.”
The words settled like a balm into Thorne’s soul, warming him and soothing past hurts and doubts. He could do anything as long as he had this to come back to—even face the demons that haunted him at night.
Demons that had been absent since he started sleeping next to Ian, he realized with a start. He hadn’t had a nightmare since before the night in Wagga Wagga, when he first slept with Ian in his arms. He wasn’t naïve enough to think his nightmares were a thing of the past, even with Ian, but it gave him hope. If he could find enough peace at Ian’s side to sleep undisturbed through the night, maybe he could find enough peace to let go of the daytime terrors as well.
He bestowed one last kiss on Ian’s smiling lips and pulled himself upright. “So where should we look for Caine and Macklin?”
“I’d try the canteen first,” Ian said as he sat up on the other side of the bed. “They might still be there, or someone who is there might know where they headed. If not, we can check the sheds and the office. Do you want me to come with you when you talk to them?”
“Only if you want to,” Thorne said. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“It’s not going to be comfortable whether I’m there or not,” Ian said. “I want to support you. If I can do that best by being there with you, that’s where I’ll be.”
“Then yes,” Thorne said, “I’d like to have you there with me.”
CAINE AND Macklin weren’t in the canteen when they finally made it there to eat, nor were they in the office when they checked in with Sam. Thorne had almost resigned himself to waiting until dinner as they went to check the sheds, but Caine and Macklin were in the machine shed with Patrick, looking at the engine of a huge contraption Thorne couldn’t identify.
“Caine,” Ian called, “when you’re done with Patrick, Thorne and I would like a word.”
“Go on,” Patrick said. “I’ve showed you what the problem is. I’ll order the part and get it fixed as soon as it comes in.”
“Just me or Macklin and me both?” Caine asked when he and Macklin reached the shed door.
“Both of you, if you have time,” Thorne said. “If not, just you is fine.”
“We can make time,” Macklin said. “Shall we go up to the house?”
They walked up the road to the big house and followed Caine and Macklin inside. “Is here okay or should I go kick Sam out of the office?” Caine asked.
“This is fine,” Thorne said. He took a deep breath and tried to decide where to start. “Before I sign the contract we talked about at dinner yesterday, I need to go to Wagga Wagga again. I had a blackout last night. I lost some length of time and when I came to, I realized I’d punched Ian’s wall enough times to leave a dent and to bruise my knuckles pretty bad.” He held out his hand so they could see the damage. “I want to be here. I feel like I belong here, but this isn’t just a question of needing a chance to get over a rough past. This is dangerous, and I won’t put Ian or anyone else at risk. There’s a mental health center in Wagga Wagga. I’m going to admit myself there until I get to the point that it’s safe for me to come back. I don’t know how long that will take, but I hope I’ll still be welcome when that time comes.”
“Sit down,” Macklin ordered.
Thorne took a seat on the nearest chair. Not one of Ian’s, he noticed randomly, although some of the furniture in the room bore Ian’s distinctive design. “Ian, ask Kami for some ice, please. Let me see your hand.”
Thorne held out his hand. Macklin examined it with a frown on his face. “You did a job on it, that’s for sure. We’ll get some ice and make sure there aren’t any splinters in the cuts, but you need to get it X-rayed when you get to Wagga Wagga. If anything is cracked or broken, you need to get it set before it gets worse.”
He glanced down the hallway and then at Caine, who nodded.
“Uncle Michael never turned anyone away unless they were a threat to the station or unless they couldn’t accept the people he considered family,” Caine said. “We’ve tried to run the station as he intended, so we certainly aren’t going to turn you away because you’re man enough t
o admit you need more help than we can offer, but you have to get it under control before you return.”
“I will,” Thorne swore. “Believe me, the biggest reason I’m doing this is because I don’t ever want to be in the position of having hurt someone I care about. I won’t come back until I can do so without worrying about hurting Ian.”
“Then we wish you the best of luck,” Caine said, “and we expect regular updates, either directly or through Ian, so we know how you’re doing. We’re a family here, and we support each other in our time of need.”
Ian came back into the living room with the ice pack. “Here you go, Thorne. I should have thought of this last night.”
“I wasn’t exactly in any state to let you help me last night,” Thorne said. “And you weren’t much better. I’m going to get on the road. The sooner I go, the sooner I can come back, right?”
“Right,” Ian said and leaned up to kiss Thorne, heedless of their audience.
Thorne squeezed Ian’s hand with his good one. “I’ll call when I get there. I love you.”
He walked out of the house before he could change his mind.
“I SHOULD get to work,” Ian said after Thorne had left. He didn’t want to. He wanted to go curl up in their bed and cling to the scent of Thorne’s shampoo on his pillow, but he didn’t have that luxury. He had a job to do and people depending on him.
“In a minute,” Macklin said. “What happened last night, Ian?”
“Thorne told you,” Ian said. “He had a flashback or something and lost control of himself.”
“Did you see what he did?” Caine asked.
Ian shook his head. “I was in the bedroom. I heard noise, but I didn’t see anything.”
“You heard him punching the wall repeatedly and didn’t go investigate?” Macklin asked. “Ian, what happened?”
Ian buried his head in his hands, trying to figure a way out of telling Caine and Macklin all the sordid details of his past, but he couldn’t, and maybe he needed to tell them. Thorne had admitted to his failings. Surely Ian could do the same. “He asked about my past,” he said slowly, without lifting his head, “before I came to Lang Downs. I told him… my foster father raped me. Thorne got upset, and I got scared. I hid in the bedroom like a coward while he tore his hand to shreds rather than hurt me.”
Macklin muttered something under his breath, something foul, judging by the look on his face. Ian nearly flinched away from the anger, but the look on Caine’s face stopped him. Macklin might be angry, but he was angry on Ian’s behalf, not at Ian.
“You never said anything,” Macklin said after several long moments.
“Michael knew,” Ian said. “He told me I could stay, but I had to tell him the truth first. I’m not sure how he would have known if I lied, but I was too afraid of losing my job here to take the risk. I never told anyone else. I… don’t like to talk about it.”
“Never?” Caine repeated. “You didn’t tell your social worker?”
“I was afraid to,” Ian admitted. “He had me convinced no one would believe me and that if I made trouble for him, he’d do even worse than he’d already done. I counted the days until I turned eighteen and could legally leave.”
“What was his name?” Macklin demanded, his voice as cold and hard as Ian had ever heard it.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Ian said. “He can’t hurt me anymore.”
“No, but if he’s still taking in foster kids, he needs to be reported,” Macklin insisted. “The system isn’t perfect, but it needs to be reported.”
“Isaac Patterson,” Ian said. “In Darwin. I, um, got as far away from him as I could when I ran.”
“Good,” Caine said. “I’m sorry it happened, and I’m sorrier still that you’ve had to live with it all these years, but I’m glad you finally told someone. We’re here if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” Ian said, “but right now I just want to get to work.”
And pretend he wasn’t already missing Thorne.
Twenty-Three
“I’M GOING to check fences,” Ian told Neil when he found his friend in the paddock with a crew. “I’ll take a radio.”
Neil frowned. “Hold on a minute. Jesse, take this crew today. I need to talk to Ian.”
Ian pursed his lips and held back a sigh. The whole point of riding out to check fences was so he didn’t have to talk to anyone. He waited for Neil anyway. He’d explain and then he’d leave.
“What’s going on?” Neil asked when Jesse arrived to take over the crew.
“Nothing,” Ian said. “I just need some time alone, and it’s been a while since anyone checked the fences in the south paddocks.”
“I was planning on sending a crew next week,” Neil said, “so I agree with that part, but that doesn’t tell me why you’re riding out by yourself to do it today.”
“I told you, I need some time alone.”
“Fine,” Neil said. “Saddle up. I’ll meet you at the gate as soon as I get my gear.”
“Alone usually means without anyone else around,” Ian pointed out.
“So I’ll be quiet,” Neil said with a shrug. “I looked at the weather this morning. Nobody’s going out alone today. They’re predicting bad storms with the possibility of heavy rain, lightning, and hail. If you want to ride out, that’s fine, but you take me or someone else with you.”
“Fine, you can come,” Ian said. He chafed at the idea of having company, but he hadn’t checked the weather, and if the forecast was what Neil reported, he was right not to let anyone ride out alone. Neil was usually pretty good at respecting Ian’s need for silence, and if he wasn’t, Ian would have plenty of time alone in his empty house and empty bed tonight.
They saddled their horses and headed out of the valley toward the south, the silence between them easy and familiar. Ian could tell Neil wanted to ask what was going on in his head, but he didn’t break the silence, and for that, Ian was grateful. He still felt scraped raw inside, the stress of telling Thorne and then Caine and Macklin about his foster father leaving him hollowed out. If he said anything to Neil, he’d end up talking about Thorne, which would lead to explaining why Thorne left, which would lead to telling Neil his darkest secret, and he’d already done that twice in the past twelve hours. He’d be perfectly happy never to mention it again.
“Dani slept in her new bed last night,” Neil said eventually. “And this morning, she informed us we could move the cradle to the baby’s room before bedtime tonight. Little princess.”
Ian laughed. “Good. I’m glad it worked, although she’s going to be a handful when she’s thirteen instead of three.”
“Maybe I’ll get lucky and there won’t be any boys her age on the station and I won’t have to deal with it until she’s seventeen or eighteen,” Neil replied.
“Maybe,” Ian said, “but don’t get your hopes up.”
“Speaking of getting your hopes up—” Neil said.
“Don’t,” Ian interrupted before Neil could finish his sentence. “Whatever you were about to say, just don’t.”
“Did you and Thorne have a fight?” Neil asked. “I didn’t see him this morning, and now you’re acting like a bear with a sore head.”
They’d had something, all right, but Ian wasn’t sure he’d call it a fight. “I really don’t want to talk about.”
“Look, whatever it is, it’s not as bad as it seems right now,” Neil said. “I’ve seen you two together. I know how gone he is over you. Give it ’til evening so you can both calm back down, and I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
If only it were that simple.
“That’s not going to be easy when he isn’t here,” Ian muttered.
“What? Did you say not here? Where is he?”
“On his way to Wagga Wagga,” Ian replied. “I said I didn’t want to talk about this.”
“Uh-huh. Why is he going to Wagga Wagga? Weren’t you just there? It’s not that friend of his, is it? I didn’t take him for the cheating
kind.”
“It’s not his friend, and he’s not cheating,” Ian said with a sigh. “He had another flashback, panic attack, blackout, something last night. He’s going to get treatment. I have no idea how long he’ll be gone.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” Ian repeated. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about this.”
“Look, I know you’ll miss him, but it’s not your fault and—”
“But it is my fault,” Ian snapped. “I’m the reason he snapped last night, and then instead of riding it out and helping him, I ran and hid like a coward because I couldn’t stand to see the look on his face after what I told him.”
They reached the edge of the first paddock and rode through the gate, then closed it behind them before Neil spoke again. “I can’t imagine any look on his face where you’re concerned besides adoration. Maybe bewildered adoration, but he looks at you the way Macklin looks at Caine. Whatever you thought you saw on his face, it either wasn’t directed at you or it wasn’t what you thought it was.”
“You weren’t there,” Ian said. “You didn’t see how angry he was.”
“At you?” Neil repeated.
Ian wasn’t honestly sure. “Maybe not, but he was shouting, and I was upset too, and I had to get away. He punched the wall so hard he left a dent in it. His hand was so swollen this morning he couldn’t make a fist.”
“I think maybe you need to start at the beginning,” Neil said. “What happened?”
“I told you,” Ian deflected.
“You told me you were the reason he snapped. You didn’t tell me why you think that,” Neil insisted.
“He asked about my life before I came to Lang Downs,” Ian said. “I didn’t want to tell him, but he insisted. He didn’t like the answer when I finally gave in.”
“I don’t see how finding out you were a foster child would make him angry enough to hit a wall,” Neil said.
“That’s because I told him the whole story,” Ian said with a sigh. “The story I only ever told Michael.”