Quick to the Hunt

by Cameron Dane

Just as Alex pushed his jeans the rest of the way off his body and stepped out of them, his cell phone vibrated with life and bounced across the floor. He recognized Mack’s unlisted number and put the phone to his ear with a smile. “How’s it going, old man?”

  “Alex?” The second Mack said Alex’s name instead of responding with “punk,” Alex went wobbly.

  “What is it, Mack?” Alex’s voice slipped to a rasp, and he grabbed the counter for support. “Are you all right?”

  “Can you come home soon?” A terrifying, unaccustomed tremble filled Mack’s usually deep, strong tone. “I can’t remember when you’re supposed to come home again.”

  Alex already had a flight booked for the middle of next week. “I’ll be on the first plane in the morning, old man.” Trapping the phone between his ear and shoulder, Alex searched his wallet for a business card he’d recently acquired from a privately-owned airport in Bozeman. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Okay.” Mack sounded more like a frightened child than the tough, strong man Alex knew him to be, and it fizzed panic straight into Alex’s heart.

  “Don’t forget I love you,” Mack added, his voice horrifyingly weak.

  “I never do, Mack.” Alex couldn’t swallow past the lump in his throat. “I love you too.”

  “Okay. Bye.”

  “Bye.” His heart crushing much too hard against his chest, Alex first made a call to Helen. He begged her to go check on Mack and please sit with him for the night. He then called the airline out of Bozeman, told the owner he would be there very soon, and to prepare whatever plane in their fleet was necessary to get him to Atlanta in one shot. Alex then hopped into the shower, all the while unable to fight the hot tears mixed in with the cold water. Mack never made phone calls like the one Alex had just taken. Never.

  As Alex threw some clothes into a bag, he assessed he would take care of all information pertaining to work during the flight. Nothing mattered more than getting to Mack.

  Hunter would have to wait.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Still shaken by his behavior with Alex the night before, Hunter climbed out of his truck at Forrest-Hawk the next morning uncertain of his plan of action. Every time Hunter had closed his eyes last night, nightmares had attacked, mixing in more visions of Alex beaten and bloody at his hands with memories of dead soldiers strewn in a dozen pieces across the white-hot desert sand. Hunter would jerk awake time and again in the darkness, sweating, while still seeing Alex as one of those dead men.

  After giving up on sleep at four thirty in the morning, Hunter had gotten up, showered, and picked at breakfast. While driving to work early, he made the decision to tender his resignation at Forrest-Hawk. Hunter’s chest ached at the thought of leaving Cain, Luke, and their horses after such a short time in their employ. He had to get out of town, though, and he knew it.

  Hunter couldn’t yet let himself think too deeply about telling his sister good-bye. She deserved a better brother who could give her the family reunion she so craved. He couldn’t let another episode like last night happen again, though. Hunter feared if he stayed too close to Alex, he would continue to mix up the attraction he felt for the man with the violence still living inside him, and he would do something in the heat of passion he could never take back. Hunter couldn’t forget what Alex had seen him do with the lighter either. Shame still churned in his gut, but he would have found a way to live with it if not for what had happened in the trailer. Beyond what Hunter had done was what he’d wanted and planned to do for an encore. Christ. Hunter shuddered. I shouldn’t be around civilians anymore. It’s not safe.

  As Hunter passed the red stable, reserved for the horses yet to be gentled, he heard Cain say, “I don’t know. I don’t understand it.”

  Then Luke responded, “He looks so terrified. It’s breaking my heart.”

  Hunter entered the barn in time to see Cain slip his arm around Luke’s waist, peck a kiss to the man’s temple, and whisper, “I know, darlin’.”

  Hunter had quickly gotten used to the open intimacy between his bosses. He both envied and admired how attuned they were to each other and the fearless way they openly lived as a couple. Before joining the military, Hunter had a narrow view of Quinten’s ability to accept homosexuality and less traditional pairings. His ability to project a vision for the future of this town had not come even close to what existed now. Once in the army, Hunter had trusted very few people with such personal information as his sexuality, even though he’d implicitly trusted every soldier he’d served alongside with his life. They’d trusted him with theirs too. In war strange dichotomies such as that existed everywhere. They existed to keep everyone in the unit alive.

  When Hunter joined Cain and Luke at the far end of the barn, their disheveled state became apparent. A few feet beyond them, the door to a little bedroom remained ajar, and Hunter could see an unmade bed.

  “What’s going on?” Hunter asked, keeping his voice low.

  Cain made eye contact with Hunter over Luke’s head. “You’re early.”

  “I couldn’t sleep.” Hunter shrugged. “I figured I might as well be productive.” A chill hung heavy in the air, weighing on Hunter’s shoulders. Something deeper and more intimate hovered too. The strange sensation smothered Hunter’s intention to share the news of his resignation right away.

  Rubbing his arms to ward off the cold -- a dip in the temperature Hunter hadn’t experienced on his drive to work -- Hunter followed Luke’s locked stare and gasped. Hercules rubbed his golden blond shoulder against the back end of the largest stall on this property -- one used for Forrest-Hawk’s newest, most wild arrivals. His eyes held a wildness Hunter hadn’t even noticed in him the day of his interview, let alone in the time since then. In fact, when Hunter had left the property yesterday afternoon, the horse had been in his stall in the blue stable, one reserved for horses in transition from untamed to prepared for Forrest-Hawk’s clients use.

  “What happened?” Hunter asked, his voice hushed.

  Cain scrubbed his hands through his chestnut-colored hair, tufting the mussed locks even more. “We don’t exactly know. We’ve been out here all night. Something has Hercules spooked. He’s regressed all the way back to when he first came to us. Further, in fact. He won’t even let us near him.”

  “But he was fine yesterday.” Hunter kept his voice soft as he studied the huge animal hovering near the back of his stall like a whipped dog. His obvious fear saturated the air, and Hunter wanted to climb into the stall and rub him down with a promise that everything would be okay. “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s what we keep saying,” Luke replied. “I came out to check on the animals early last evening and found him trying to force his way out of his stall. We had to tranq him so the vet could get close enough to examine him. While he was out, we moved him here.”

  “The vet says he seems fine physically,” Cain added. “The results of samples she took for some other tests will start to trickle in tomorrow.”

  Hunter watched the horse move forward two steps, then back, then forward, pawing at the bedding under his hooves every time he stopped. “He doesn’t have anything wedged under his shoes or buried in his skin somewhere that is agitating him?”

  “No.” Cain shook his head. “Once we had him down last night we checked everything. He’s clean.”

  “What about parasites?” Hunter felt idiotic asking such obvious questions of two men who knew more about horses than anyone he’d ever met, but every discomforted move or noise Hercules made prompted Hunter to investigate. “Could he have picked up an illness that manifests itself like this? Maybe something got into his food?”

  “We checked his feed as a precaution,” Cain answered. “It’s fine. And between Luke and me, we know just about every symptom or sign of any parasite or disease a horse can attract, and Hercules isn’t showing any of them. For some reason” -- rubbing his bloodshot eyes, Cain moved to a stool tucked by the office door and took a seat -- “he has regressed
back to wild.”

  Hunter watched Luke go to his partner and situate himself as a back for the stool. Cain immediately leaned into Luke’s thighs and belly and reached back for his hand. Cain pulled Luke’s palm to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the center. Hunter turned away, letting them have their moment of intimacy.

  He didn’t move closer to Hercules but did study the animal that had finally stilled. “Do you think you can train him again?”

  “We hope so,” Luke said. “He has to let us touch him first in order to do it. We’re not going to force him into submission.”

  Hunter’s heart suddenly sputtered. He spun to Cain and Luke. “What if he doesn’t take to people and training again? If you can’t use him in your program, will you sell him?”

  “God, no,” Cain replied. He pushed his spine straight and sat up tall. “We could never do that. We’ll exhaust every avenue toward getting him well first, but I don’t have any intention of selling him if he doesn’t progress right away.”

  “He’s a good horse.” Hunter started breathing again. He wished he could go into the stall and scratch Hercules behind the ears, just how the animal liked it. “I’m happy to hear you won’t get rid of him.”

  Luke joined Hunter, where they stood shoulder to shoulder a good four feet back from Hercules’s stall. “I think he’s gonna come out of it,” Luke shared. “He has strength in his eyes. I’ve seen it.”

  “I have too. Listen” -- from his side vision, Hunter caught Cain slumping against the wall -- “why don’t you guys go get a couple of hours of sleep? You’re both clearly exhausted. I’ll keep an eye on Hercules and get started on bucketing the feed for the other horses. I’ll call you if I see any change in his behavior.” He nodded, trying to prompt. “Okay?”

  Cain righted himself and even stood. “Thanks, but I don’t think I could slee --”

  Luke stepped in front of his man and slapped a hand over his mouth. “Hawk, we hired an extra hand for a reason. Let me at least get you under a shower because, honey, you do not smell very good.”

  After prying Luke’s hand away, Cain grumbled and said, “You smell like shit too, darlin’.”

  “That’s why I plan to get in the shower with you.” Luke’s smile turned his appearance to a sexy that should be illegal. The kiss he planted on Cain’s cheek softened every exhausted line in Cain’s face and clearly turned the man into Luke’s slave. “Let Hunter handle this,” Luke pressed gently. “He knows about all the different feed. He hasn’t made a mistake yet with the horses in the other stables. Let him handle this just for today. It’s just one morning.” He twined both of his hands in Cain’s and pulled them chest to chest. “We will be back in charge of caring for our newest babies tomorrow.”

  It appeared as if Cain’s ocean gaze fed on Luke. “This is why I love you so much.” He tenderly cupped his palm to Luke’s face and pressed their foreheads together. His voice dropped to almost nonexistent, but Hunter heard him whisper, “You take care of me in a way I never imagined possible. I sometimes still can’t believe you’re mine.”

  Luke turned his head and kissed Cain’s hand. “That’s the best part of why I love you too, Hawk.” He then hooked two fingers in Cain’s belt and pulled, his stormy eyes shot with twinkling silver. “But if you’d let me get you back to the cabin, I could remind you how great some of the others are too.”

  With a quick-change switch of positions, Cain now tugged Luke toward the open doors. “Let’s go.” Cast into shadows by the light behind them, Cain stopped for just a moment and said, “Thank you, Hunter. Please let us know if you notice a change in Hercules.”

  “Will do.” Unable to hide his grin or chuckle, Hunter waved. “I’ll see you later.”

  Cain dragged Luke out of the stable and into the first twinkles of morning light, their hands tangled as if they’d held each other forever. As they disappeared from sight, Hunter turned his attention back to the palomino tucked into the farthest corner of the stall.

  His smile slipping away, Hunter took one step closer, and the horse immediately shied and whinnied. His black eyes rolled, and he pushed his shoulder into the back of the stall.

  Definitely not ready yet. “It’s okay, Herc.” Hunter took a step away from the animal. “You don’t have to be scared. I’m not getting any closer.”

  Hunter went about his business and prepared the first three buckets of feed. When passing Hercules’s stall, he didn’t give any appearance of looking at the horse. It seemed to help. By the time he walked past a third time, Hercules had moved a few inches off the back of the stall. He also stopped breathing heavily, and so Hunter no longer believed he would hurt himself.

  “That’s it, boy.” Hunter spoke under his breath. “I’m not watching. Take as much time as you need.”

  Hunter slipped into the feed room to prepare breakfast for the next three horses. So much for giving my resignation. Hunter couldn’t help his thoughts slipping back to Alex, even though he now had less of a plan for what to do than he had before walking into this barn. He didn’t know how the hell to deal with the destructive emotions Alex provoked in him, but he knew he couldn’t leave Cain and Luke high and dry right now. For the moment at least, Hunter would remain in Quinten.

  As for what would happen with Alex when he saw the man again… Stop it. Hunter’s cock swelled against his jeans right where he stood. The violent acts Hunter pictured himself doing with -- to -- Alex upon their next meeting broke out a line of sweat down his back, kicked up his heartbeat, and had him praying the next time they came into contact he could exhibit better control. Please. I don’t want to hurt him. Hunter offered his plea up to the heavens, hoping something divine out there existed and would answer.

  * * * *

  Many hours later, the sun set behind an exhausted Hunter. He pushed open the red barn doors and slipped in to see Hercules one more time before heading home. Surprised to find the stable empty of people, Hunter moved to the back with slow, easy steps, pausing when he came to Hercules’s stall. The horse remained near the back wall but didn’t ride up against it as he’d done this morning. Hunter took a small, careful step forward. Hercules pricked his ears, but he didn’t balk. Another step yielded the same result. On the third Hercules kicked up his front quarters and brayed a high, awful noise.

  Wincing, silently cursing himself, Hunter gave back the space he’d just taken. “Okay, okay.” He put his hands low at his sides. “So this is your threshold right now.” He drew a line in the floor covering across the entire length of the stall, ending by the wall. “Is that right? Am I okay here, Herc?” Hunter leaned his shoulder against the wall while keeping an eye on the animal on the other side of the bars.

  It took a good five minutes, but when Hunter didn’t move a muscle from his position, Hercules finally settled -- albeit hovered against the back of the stall once more. Hunter sighed softly in the shadowed corner. The horse’s ear turned, making Hunter even more aware of how attuned Herc was to every nuance in his environment.

  “I just want to figure out what’s eating at you, buddy,” Hunter shared. He knew folks who’d never spent time with animals would think him crazy, but he swore Hercules watched him and understood every word he spoke. “Cain and Luke want you to get better too. Those guys love you. They are your wingmen. They are your backup in an ambush. They are the best friends you’ll ever have. I don’t know if you have any idea how lucky you are that you ended up at this place, but let me tell you, things could have ended a whole lot different for you.”

  Mentally Hunter slipped back to one of the worst days of his life. He closed his eyes and his throat got thick. Swallowing through the bad times, Hunter blinked and settled his focus back on Hercules. “I know what it feels like to be on the verge of becoming glue. I know what it’s like to have a Cain and Luke save you. My Forrest-Hawk was a guy named Will.” Just in thinking of the day Will had become a true friend, Hunter smiled, unable to hold it back. “Now there was a southern boy who’d never been around an an
imal in his life. Yet he instinctively knew how to save a wounded one -- me.

  “You want to hear about Will?” Hunter asked, his chest beginning to swell with love and pride. “I’ve never told a soul stateside about him. It’s not right that I keep him a secret, but it hurts too much to talk about him to other people. He deserves all the honors and medals that exist in the world.”…

  * * *

  …Hunter trudged into the showers with the other guys in his unit, carrying five days’ worth of caked-on sweat, blood, and grime, as well as sand scratching in every nook and cranny on his body. On most days the luxury of getting into a shower after being away from camp on a weeklong mission with just MREs and your wits to keep you alive brought sighs mixed with hoots and hollers once that first spray of water hit your back and trickled down your skin. Today wasn’t most days, though. Today they hadn’t brought every man back safe and in one piece. They had two of their men in surgery right this second, hanging on for dear life. Their third man… Christ. The men in this company had zipped him into a body bag themselves just minutes ago.

  Trey.

  Exhaling through the tightness in his throat, Hunter tipped his face up into the water just in case he couldn’t hold back the tears drilling him inside. Intellectually he knew the other guys wouldn’t care. Hell, he could see a few of them doing the same, but nobody wanted to know his brothers-in-arms couldn’t keep their shit together in a war zone.

  Fuck, Hunter had only known Trey for four months, but in some cases time didn’t matter. They’d joined this unit at the same time, both of them seasoned as hell from a previous tour, and had immediately gained a rapport and trust. Even though Trey had grown up in New York, they had come from similar backgrounds of hardworking single mothers and both had a little sister. For Hunter, the fact that they were the same age -- twenty-six -- while so many of their fellow soldiers were nineteen, twenty, and twenty-one, made Trey someone with similar life experience and thus more relatable. They’d immediately bonded, and while some of the men Hunter had served with probably suspected Hunter was gay, Hunter had actually told Trey the truth when the man asked. The guy hadn’t cared. He’d said he would take the secret to the grave with him. And he did.