by Julia Talbot
Hooting, Jasper clapped him on the back so hard his knife popped out of his hand and flew up in the air, damned near impaling his foot on the way back down. "You always had some leftover, you old dog. What, did you have it sewn in your bunk mattress? Or hidden in the biscuit flour?"
A small grin tugged his lips. It'd been common knowledge at the Lazy S that Cookie never emptied the flour box all the way, just dumped more in on top. The same held true with the coffeepot, which had ground in the bottom older than Hank, and with the bean crock on the back of the iron cook stove, which probably had beans Santa Ana had tossed out in it. Lord he missed the Lazy S. Benjamin Farmer had been about the best boss he'd ever had.
"You sure you have to go, Hank?" he'd asked when Hank'd gone to his office to tell him what had transpired. "You're next in line for foreman. I'll back you."
He'd just stammered gratefully, but allowed as how even the boss couldn't keep him alive once he got out on the range.
Anyway, the boss had given him another month's pay as a good faith gesture, and Hank had carefully sewn it into his saddlebags with the rest of his savings. It was a considerable amount.
"Don't worry on how much or where," he told Jasper. "You'll pull your weight, I've no doubt." And maybe he could convince the kid to part ways once they got to town.
"I will. I promise. I'll even sleep in the livery stable in town. That way if you want a room I won't be in the way."
Hank snorted. "Ain't no place to rent in Seven Rivers save above the saloon or Mrs. Courtenay's boarding house. Leastways not that I can afford. One hotel's too high. Saloon's got lice, and Mrs. Courtenay makes you go to services come Sunday." Suddenly he remembered why the Bar D cowboy had lit into Jasper. "Did you really steal his girl?"
Sobering, Jasper stared down at the hard packed dirt between his feet, drawing circles with his toe. Always fidgeting.
"Nope. She'd given him up, right enough. Told him off in front of God and everyone at the Bar D. Her momma is the housekeeper there. I didn't know that was him. She made him sound like a giant of a man and twice as ugly. He…he was just a drunk."
Just a drunk. "Does that make me just a murderer?"
"Hank! No." Sliding off the flat rock they'd made their campfire seat, Jasper knelt in the dirt in front on him, hands on his shoulders. "You're a good man, Hank. If anyone's to blame it's me, and I won't hear another word like that, not from you."
He looked into Jasper's sky eyes, emotion welling up in his chest. And something else swelling below his belt. Lord, what this kid did to him. It wasn't natural, and but it was needful. "Thank you for that. We'll ride into town tomorrow. Now, I need to go, uh..."
Flushing, he flapped a hand at the cactus strewn landscape.
"Oh." Grinning, Jasper backed off, the mood broken. "Far be it from me to keep a man from the necessary."
"Right." If he got up quick Jasper might not notice, he figured, and the hobbling, well, that could be attributed to a prodigious need to take a piss. Hank hurried. In fact, he hurried far out of sight, as he'd already given Jasper to believe he needed privacy for such things, and for the first time since Jasper had joined him, Hank indulged. The buttons of his pants gave way readily enough and Hank slipped his hand inside, eyes crossing as he took himself between his own fingers.
They called it self-abuse, but it sure didn't feel like he was hurting nothin'. Felt good, felt like something that needed fixing and he was finally getting around to it. Hank stroked himself, biting his lower lip to keep from howling like a coyote, legs spread and braced so he could snap his hips.
Didn't take long, not with him thinking on what he would do if it was Jasper's hand around him, or if Jasper kissed him, maybe put his mouth on him, which he shouldn't think of because that was what whores did and oh, God. Hank shot hard, his vision graying out for a second like clouds moving in over the Texas sky.
Damnation. That was something else.
***
Seven Rivers didn't exactly have a big city feel. Two stores, two saloons, a post office and a smithy combined to make up the main street. One of the saloons, The Double Eagle, had a barber in attendance and would sell a man a bath for fifteen cents. Unlike the beds, the baths stayed clean, most like from the prevalence of strong lye soap, so Hank figured it was safe enough to have at.
They stabled their horses at the livery behind the hotel, Hank grimacing at the ten cent fee. Grabbing his saddlebags, he headed for the saloon, feeling the grit rub against every part of him, the toes of his boots kicking up dust all the way. Jasper walked along with him, just a'chattering.
"So this is Seven Rivers, huh? Not much to it. You think they even have a school? You said they had services, but I don't see a church."
"They have them at Mr. Todd's house. I been that one time I stayed here. Now, shut it. You carry on like that in the barber's and everyone will know our business."
The kid's ears flushed deep brick red. "Sure, Hank. Sure. I bet you're tired of me."
Was he? Hell, no. Having Jasper so close, to see and smell and be with all day? No, he wasn't tired of it a damn bit. Knew it wasn't good for Jasper, but for Hank it was paradise on earth.
"It's fine," he said, his voice a mere rumble. "Still think you ought to head out tomorrow, though."
"So you keep saying."
It felt strange to be inside a building, and Hank knew he'd been away from polite folks too long when Jasper took his hat off first.
"Howdy, boys. You folks wanting a shave and a haircut?"
"Yessir." Lord, that kid had charm aplenty in that grin, just blinding as it was. "We've been out on the trail a while."
"Well, come on then. I charge fifteen cents, but twenty will get you that and a bath out back."
"We'll take two of those, then." Hank plopped down in the chair, carefully draping his saddlebags over his knee. A man couldn't be too careful.
"Forty cents up front, friend. I don't want to be unkind, but I've been cheated too many times by a drover to trust."
No self-respecting cowboy would cheat a man out of his pay, but Hank didn't say it, just pulled the money out of his pocket and handed it over, giving Jasper a warning look. The kid practically vibrated with righteous indignation, and all they needed was for him to open his trap and start flapping.
The hot towel against his face had him relaxing, softening right up, and Hank melted into the chair, humming. Oh, that felt fine. A man could try shaving with cold water all he wanted, but it just wasn't the same. A haircut and a shave later he thought he might be a new man, and a bath and a hot meal would finish it right on up.
"You can go ahead and go out back, mister. There's a Chinaman who'll get the hot water off the stove for you." Handing him a piece of red flannel, the barber smiled. "This'll let him know you paid."
"Thanks."
Hank watched Jasper disappear under the hot towel, the happy moan making him smile, then headed out to get his bath. The tubs looked clean enough, filled about halfway with tepid water. All it would take was one kettle of hot and some soap to make it right nice. He handed the waiting Chinaman his little strip of cloth and got a much bigger piece in return to wash with and a strip of toweling for drying.
As he stripped off his kit he wondered if he had enough change to get their clothes laundered. They were a bit stiff.
The bath had a heavenly warmth by the time he sank down in, the water lapping at his skin like a lover. They'd not had baths all that often on the ranch, but there he'd known he could have one anytime he wanted. Amazing what a difference it made. The hard water kept the soap from foaming too much, but he felt it working, and that was enough.
Hank'd rinsed off with a little more of the Chinaman's hot water and sunk down, hat over his eyes, to just soak a little when he heard the splash of another tub, and the jingle of spurs. His eyes popped open and he titled his hat just enough to see and oh…
Oh, Lord in Heaven above.
Jasper stripped down, bending as Hank watched to pull his union
suit off his feet, giving Hank a view most men wouldn't look at twice, but one that put his blood on a hotter boil than the water hanging on the fire. White, white skin stretched over the muscled curves of Jasper's behind, and below that... Well. Everything Jasper had swung there, between thighs covered with fine golden hair. Hank's breath stopped for a full minute, maybe, until his ears rang and his eyes watered.
Then Jasper turned to face him and his breath whooshed out in one giant gasp. Still a little narrow though the chest, Jasper had pale brown nipples, a lean belly with a hint of muscle underneath and narrow hips that funneled down into…that. Despite his leanings Hank had never had the opportunity to really study another man's privates. Jasper's cock lay heavy and dark against his thigh, the extra fold of skin hiding the head. Lord, he just couldn't quit staring.
His own cock felt like an iron poker between his thighs.
Luckily, Jasper didn't notice, just stepped into his own tub and moaned. "Oh, Hank, that feels damned good."
"It does, doesn't it?" He forced himself to sit up and grin over, hoping it looked less like a grimace than it felt. "You look right presentable with your hair trimmed."
"Why thank you, kind sir." Those eyelashes just batted for him, sending his heart racing even though Jasper didn't mean nothin' by it.
"Hush. I just mean you ought to have no trouble finding companionship of the female persuasion tonight."
"Aw, I don't think so Hank. I think I'm laying off the girls. They been nothing but bad luck. 'Sides. You're my pard, and you paid for the bath and the shave and all. I got enough to buy us both a whiskey."
"Well, that's right neighborly of you."
"'Course it is. I just wish I could afford a real bed."
Oh, he sounded so wistful. Hank sighed. "Hey, Chin. How much is the hotel a night?"
"One dollar."
"Thanks." Careful to maneuver so his back was to Jasper, Hank stood up and reached for his towel. "We'll stay there tonight then."
It might kill him to share a bed with Jasper, but it'd be worth it to see the kid smile.
"Really?" Water sloshed again and he turned once he got his towel in place, watching Jasper soap up with such enthusiasm that bubbles flew. "Hell, that'd be top notch, Hank. I'd owe you one."
"You owe me a few, kid. I'll see you outside."
He dressed quickly, heading outside and bumming a rolled smoke off the first cowboy he saw. Hank wasn't much for chaw but he liked a smoke now and again, and it calmed his nerves, slowed his pounding heart. Hell, a quick hello and what's good to eat round these parts was enough to soften his prick, too.
Turned out they had supper at the hotel too, and for the fifty cents it cost him, it wasn't bad at all. The fancy waiter fella looked askance at them as they came in, but once Hank took him aside and pointed out reasonably that he had money, and that they'd shaved and bathed, well, it went right nice. They had pot roast and little red potatoes and some right mushy peas, but it sat well on the belly, and the biscuits were enough to make up for the peas. Heaven on a plate.
"I ain't eat on such a fancy tablecloth since my last Christmas with my momma," Jasper told him, looking like a kid in a confectioner's shop when they got real chocolate cake with butter cream icing.
"Been longer'n that for me, kid. But I'm glad you like it."
Like seemed a soft word for the way Jasper moaned and wiggled and licked his lips. Pure torture it was for Hank, and the night was awfully young.
"Well," he said after supper, tossing a quarter on the table for the waiter fella. "I think I'll take myself over to the saloon for a drink."
"I'll buy you one, Hank! I got enough. Come on. Least I can do."
Well, hell. He might as well let the kid buy him a whiskey. Maybe if he drank two or three he could sleep through the night without jumping all over Jasper like a coyote too long without a mate.
"Long as you promise not to get in any trouble. After last time…"
"Aw." Ears red as Georgia clay, Jasper whapped his arm. "I ain't one to cause the trouble, n'you know it."
"Uh huh."
The problem, Hank figured two hours later as he stared morosely into his glass, was that he wasn't much of a drinker. Jasper'd had three, and was everyone's new best friend, though to give the kid credit, he didn't speak about their circumstances at all, avoiding all reference to where they'd come from easily, just charming everyone up with that smile, with those pretty blue eyes.
Made him feel old and mean and grumpy for sure, and he lived up to his Silent Hank moniker all night.
Finally Hank gave up; tossing a nod of thanks to the bartender, he slid off his seat at the end of the bar and headed to the door, the jingling of his spurs almost lost in the raucous noise coming from down where Jasper played a friendly game of chance with the other cowpokes.
Jasper noticed though. Of course he did.
"Hank! Where you going? Deal me out, boys, that's my pard there, Silent Hank."
He got a few nods, one smile, and then he and Jasper stepped outside, the day gone night while they were inside, the air cool on his skin.
"You all right, Hank?"
He looked at the kid, hat in hand, straw hair in wild disarray, a big smile on his face as he counted a wad of greenbacks, and his heart clenched. He'd never be all right again. He surely wouldn't.
"Sure, Jasper. Sure. I just need some sleep."
"In a real bed!"
"You could even afford your own room now," he said, motioning at the money Jasper held.
That smiling face fell. "Sure. Sure, I can ask, Hank, if you'd rather not share."
"Just thought you might like your own bed, is all. I don't mind one way or 'tother." That look. Hanks sighed. He couldn't stand the disappointment in that look.
His words brought the smile back, though, and Jasper bounced. "I'll buy breakfast in the morning, how's that? And I can throw in for my share of the provisions now."
"You bet."
Crickets chirped and their boots rang on the little boardwalk in front of the hotel, the old men sitting outside having a smoke nodding at him, ignoring Jasper. Hank paused. "Why don't you go on in, kid. I'm going to have a smoke."
"Aw, Hank. You'll smell like a house afire." But Jasper winked, nodded, and headed in through the lobby, whistling a jaunty tune.
"Got a smoke for a tired cowboy, old man?" Hank asked.
After nearly an hour of sitting and smoking, passing maybe five words between them, Hank felt much calmer, easier in his skin. And hopefully, Jasper would be asleep time he got up there.
Sure enough, the kid lay in bed, boots off and quilt wrapped around him, snoring to beat the band. Hank sighed, stretching his muscles out before slipping off his boots and clothes, just his union suit on as he slid in beside Jasper, careful not to disturb him.
The snoring stopped anyway.
"Night, Hank."
"Night, Jasper. Go back to sleep."
"Mmmhmmm."
Maybe he could make it through this night after all. Hank closed his eyes and breathed deep, hoping sleep came quick, and that his dreams stayed on the things a cowboy ought to dream of; the open range, his horse, and a bed under the stars.
***
Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Jasper woke Hank up with a stiff elbow to his breadbasket, making him grunt as the air pushed right out of him. The way the kid muttered and flailed you'd think there were fire ants in bed with them, or maybe wild Injuns.
Grabbing one wildly waving hand, Hank held Jasper down, trying to shake him awake.
"Stop it. Stop it now, Jasper. You're gonna hurt one of us."
"Dead. He's dead and it's my fault…" Those eyes popped open, wide and shining in the dark, sightless for a long moment. Then Jasper seemed to register him there, and sighed, relaxing back on the bed. "Oh, hey, Hank. Sorry if I woke you."
"Who's dead?"
"Huh? Oh, no one. Just a dream." Jasper tried to pull his hand away, but Hank held fast, his grip tightening.
&nb
sp; "Who."
"Aw, come on, Hank. It was just a dream."
"'Bout that drover in El Paso?"
"Maybe. Ain't nothing to you, anyway."
He stared, trying not to shout, as that would get them kicked out for sure. "Nothing to me. Sure. Sure, I just killed a man for you. To keep you alive. Because I l…" He stopped, practically biting his tongue clean off.
There really was no fool like an old fool.
"Hank."
The feel of Jasper's fingers on his cheek startled him nigh unto death; Hank jumped, his heart pounding, his hand coming up to catch Jasper's.