by Jaime Samms
“You don’t miss him?”
Vance managed a smile in the face of Len’s obvious jealousy. “How can I miss him? I see him every day. I work with him, I’m in touch with him when I’m on the road.” He stared Len in the eye as he detailed the amount of contact he had with his ranch manager. It wouldn’t do to sugarcoat this. Len had to know how often they talked and how deeply Vance admired the other man. He had to understand he and Kilmer were friends and that was a fact that wouldn’t change because Len might not like it.
“You could get another manager,” Len said.
“I could.” Vance leaned forward. “But I won’t, because I trust Kilmer. He does an outstandin’ job for me. He cares about this land and these animals as much as I do.” He realized he was tapping the desk with his forefinger to emphasize each point and pressed his palm to the wide expanse of dark, warm wood. “He is me when I can’t be here. There is no one I trust to do as I would do when I’m not lookin’. This place is my home. My sanctuary. I need him to keep it that way.”
“So he is still your man, even if he’s fucking someone else.”
Vance bit back a hasty denial and managed not to look away from Len’s challenge. “I suppose that is one way to see it, yes,” he conceded finally, and slumped back in his chair. “But I can promise you one thing, Len. There is never goin’ to be a time when I want what I had with Kil back. We were. Now we are somethin’ else, and it works for us. What I want from you is completely different.”
“You want from me what you had with him.”
Again, Vance leaned forward and glared at Len. “What I had with him fell apart. I want with you somethin’ we can hold together.”
Len stared at him, and the luminous hope in his eyes was almost physically painful for Vance to see. What if he wasn’t good enough? What if he wasn’t strong enough to hold them both together until Len figured his shit out?
Long minutes stretched into the silence except for the ticking of the ancient school clock on the wall above the window. Vance willed Len to agree he wanted what Vance wanted. That he would strive for it. That he would try. Len’s jaw clenched, and Vance imagined he could hear the teeth grinding from where he sat.
“Okay,” he said at last, getting up because if he stayed in that chair a moment longer, his defeat would show in the way he sagged. “I won’t ask again what you talk about in your sessions. If you want to tell me, you will.”
“But?” Len stared up at him as he rounded the desk and perched on the edge.
“But what?”
“Kilmer said you had to know. He said if you don’t, you can’t keep me safe.” His coppery brows knitted over his eyes.
“Kilmer is right, in part. Unless there’s nothin’ to be afraid of. But I can’t know that unless you tell me. And I have to trust you’re tellin’ me the truth if you say there’s nothin’ to worry about.”
Len nodded. His teeth, now firmly clenching his bottom lip, at least were no longer grinding. That sound woke Vance some nights, and then all he could do was hold on to Len and wonder what was going on in his sleep that made him that angry.
“We talked about Ace,” Len said at last.
Vance sucked in a breath, moving to sit on the couch nearer to Len to cover his surprise that Len had decided to open up.
“I was horrible to him, you know.”
“To Ace?” Vance was confused. Everything he knew of the relationship pointed to Ace being the douchebag and Len the victim.
“To Trev.”
“Oh.” His lover’s ping-pong attention span was dizzying, but Vance made a passable attempt to encourage Len to explain what he meant. He knew most of the story of how Trevor Learner, the lead singer of Len’s former band, Firefly, and Len had made a mess of their friendship, but hadn’t ever really heard Len’s feelings on what they had been before Len had left the band.
“I teased him. I pushed and pushed until he was on the edge, and then I let go. Like… I didn’t want to see him fall, but I couldn’t hold on to him and risk that maybe I’d fall too. And we both always did, anyway. It was cruel what I did to him.”
“He’s being taken care of—”
“That isn’t the point!” Len spun, hands no longer clasped, eyes blazing. “That doesn’t matter, because what I did to him, it was evil.”
“You’re not evil, Len,” Vance reached for him, but Len batted his hand away. It wasn’t a push. It wasn’t a simple rejection. It was barely contained violence, and Vance frowned.
“You see?” Len got to his feet. “I’m dangerous and I can’t be trusted, so why bother?”
“Len.” Vance rose with him and reached again, thinking to hold on to him, comfort him, but his attempt was met with another, stronger shove, and he took a step back. Good thing he did too, because Len came at him in a roundhouse, and he wasn’t quite quick enough to dodge completely. It caught him on the jaw and this time, he staggered and fell heavily back to the couch.
“Leave me alone,” Len growled, fists hard at his sides. “Just leave me alone before I do it to you too.” He turned and all but ran from the room.
Vance sat where he’d landed, stunned. That had been no accident. There wasn’t a way to dismiss what had just happened as thoughtlessness or panic or instinct. His jaw throbbed where Len had landed the punch, and he realized he’d underestimated the younger man’s strength. He’d underestimated Len’s ability to hurt him.
And he had no idea what to do about it.
Kilmer found him, much later, still on the couch, still at a loss, wondering why he hadn’t appeared in the barn to greet the vet who had come to examine one of their broodmares. She’d had a late start to her pregnancy, and the vet wanted to check up on her and make sure all was as it should be.
“Is she still here?” Vance asked.
“I took care of it,” Kilmer said, sitting on the couch next to him. “I figured you and Len were probably busy. Then I saw his horse was gone, and so…. Is everythin’ all right?”
“He went ridin’ alone?”
Kilmer shrugged. “I guess. I figured you knew.”
Letting out a sigh, Vance climbed to his feet. “Suppose I’d best go after him.” He turned toward the door, but Kilmer stopped him.
“Boss?”
“What?” He tried, but Vance knew the irritation, which had nothing to do with Kilmer, showed in his voice, in his face, in his impatience.
“What happened?”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
Kilmer touched fingertips to Vance’s chin. “He hit you?”
Vance moved away from the touch. “Leave it, Kil.”
“Your sub punched you in the face an’ you tell me to leave it?” Kilmer took hold of Vance’s shoulder and turned him to the light from the window. “I don’t think so, boss.”
“Kil—ouch!”
“He clocked you a good one, little devil.”
“Don’t call him that,” Vance growled, pushing Kilmer away.
“Sorry.” Kilmer held up both hands in front of himself. “Okay, okay. Take it easy.”
Vance closed his eyes. In this man’s company, he felt safe. He could let the defeat show and know it would never go past the two of them. “I’m sorry, Kil. I don’t know what to do with him.”
“Well”—Kilmer patted his arm—“first thing’s first. We get some water and some trail mix, and we saddle up and go find the little brat. We worry about what to do with him once we got him home safe, yeah?”
“We can’t both leave.”
“Patrick has the afternoon’s agenda under control. I made sure.”
Vance quirked half a smile and gave his friend a grateful look. “Yeah. Of course you did. Go saddle horses. I’ll find us somethin’ to bring him.”
Kilmer smiled, and it was reassuring and sane in the center of Vance’s spiraling doubt.
“Thanks, Kil.”
“Ain’t nothin’ to thank me for, Vance. I’m just doin’ what any friend would do.”
; “Not talkin’ me out of him?”
Kilmer sighed. “You are so far into that boy, there is no rational place to talk you back to. You got to see it through to the other side now, Vance. Only way you’re goin’ to survive this one.”
Vance feared his friend was right, and that thought was a sobering one as he explored the bruise on his face with tentative fingers. He didn’t see this getting better before it got a lot worse.
FINDING LEN would hopefully prove not that difficult. He had only lived on the ranch a short while, and he wasn’t a stellar rider. Once mounted and ready, Vance scanned the ground for fresh hoofprints leading from the yard and was relieved to realize his lover had followed a little-used trail out of the paddock and around the south end of the property.
The horse path followed a lazy, shallow creek through cultivated fields and tame hedgerows, winding along the borders of the neighbor’s fields and pastures. People didn’t use it because it was a relatively boring trail compared to others in the immediate area. Had he gone north, along the more frequented, forking paths, his trail would have been harder to follow among the hoofprints of the riding ranch to the west and the other trainers on the east. Plus, the trails there were less easily navigated, and Len wasn’t that accomplished a rider yet. His horse, while placid enough, could be stubborn once he decided he wanted to run, or wanted to stand still. Len was not known for patience when he didn’t get what he wanted.
They followed the lone set of tracks for miles through the tamed countryside. Vance was amazed Len had gone so far. He only began to worry when the sun was low enough to throw shadows over the trail and make it more difficult to see the tracks.
Before long, the tracks changed from a horse at a lazy walk to one picking up speed, and finally, a full-out run.
“Shit,” Kilmer grumbled. “Is that his hat?” He pointed, and Vance saw the patch of brown felt caught in the long grass and thistles beside the trail.
“Dammit!”
Kilmer had already dismounted and picked the Stetson up, confirming it was Len’s, and Vance swore again.
“Where the hell are we, anyway?” Kilmer asked, remounting and slinging the hat over his pommel.
Vance took a quick glance around and sighed. “I know why the damn horse ran. This is close to his home ranch.” He pointed toward the escarpment in the distance. “That way. Bought him when he was a three-year-old gelding, so I’d have an extra saddle horse.”
“Guess three years there as a colt was long enough to make it feel like home,” Kilmer observed.
Nodding, Vance urged his mount into a quick canter. “Especially when it’s nigh on supper time and his fool rider didn’t think ahead.”
“At least we know where to go,” Kilmer said, getting his mount up to speed.
They crossed onto the horse’s old range after about fifteen minutes, and Vance cursed a whole new string of expletives when it became obvious Len and mount had left the trail and cut across country.
“If he comes up on a fence…,” Kilmer said.
“The horse can jump,” Vance replied. “Not worried about that.”
“Your boy’ll end up on his head right quick.”
Vance put that grim thought aside and gave his mount her head. He wasn’t going to race her recklessly through the long grass at twilight. He didn’t need her breaking a leg too.
Kilmer spotted the silhouette against the horizon first, and Vance pushed his mare to a gallop, thundering along a trail following a fence line where he saw Len perched on a stile, staring out across a pasture at a paddock filled with milling ostriches.
“Len!” Vance dismounted and tossed his reins to Kilmer as the latter trotted up behind him.
Len turned slowly, and Vance noted the dust streaked across his left side and the dried blood under his nose.
“Oh, God. What happened?” Forgotten was the punch, the aborted talk, everything but the concern that Len was injured.
“Stupid horse,” Len muttered, easing off the fence and limping to Vance’s side.
Vance gathered him up and held him, face pressed into Len’s wild curls. The sunshine had baked the scent of dust and summer into the red locks, and Vance breathed deep.
“How hurt are ya, darlin’?” he asked quietly.
“Pride, mostly,” Len whispered back. “Sore hip. Bloody nose. Nothing permanent.” He backed out of the embrace and gazed up, attention caught by the discolored skin of Vance’s jaw. “I did that.”
Vance was about to haul him in again, to dismiss the altercation as unimportant, but Len planted a firm hand on his chest. “Don’t let me get away with that shit,” he said, and it was a plea unlike anything Vance had ever heard from him. “Please. I don’t want to be that guy.”
Vance patiently applied pressure until Len gave up and let himself be pulled close again. “You are not that guy, darlin’. We’ll figure this out. I promise.”
Stupid, stupid promise to make. So much of it was completely out of Vance’s control. But Len needed him to make it, and so he made it.
Over Len’s head, Kilmer shook his head, a wry expression on his face.
“You think you can ride back?” Vance asked.
Len sniffed and nodded as he stepped away. “But my horse jumped the fence and took off.” He dropped his gaze to the ground. “I’m so sorry.”
“We’ll get him back. Pretty sure I know where he’s headed.” He took Len’s hand, lacing his fingers through Len’s and leading him back to the mare. “Bridget can carry us both a short way. Come on.” He mounted and held out his hand, which Len took. He scrambled up behind Vance, and the feel of his small, hot body pressed to Vance’s back was incredibly reassuring as Vance clucked at Bridget, and she moved forward at an easy walk toward the farm buildings and ostriches.
Len wrapped his arms around his middle and a moment later, rested his head between Vance’s shoulder blades, apparently heedless of Vance’s sweat-damp shirt.
“Mmmm.” Len squeezed slightly. “You smell good.”
Vance snorted but pressed his big hand over Len’s smaller ones against his belly and said nothing.
Since they weren’t about to jump any fences, as their fugitive had, it took Vance and Kilmer the better part of an hour to ride around the pastures to the road and then the five miles to the farmhouse.
They were greeted by a hail from the barn and a light coming on on the porch.
“Hey, Paul,” Vance called back, lifting a hand in greeting to his fellow horse breeder. “Think you may have an escapee belongs to me?”
Paul grinned widely. “Always was a handful, that one. Come on inside and you can give him what-for yourself. Doesn’t seem to have come to any harm, though he was mighty thirsty and looked like he’d had a good hard run.”
Len slipped off Vance’s horse almost before she had come to a halt and scurried into a corner just inside the barn door.
“Hmm.” Vance glanced at Len, seeing only his shadow and the glint of light off his eyes. “We’ll talk about that later,” he said quietly. “Let’s have a look, Paul.”
The rancher led Vance and Kilmer deeper into the barn. The familiar sounds of horses shuffling and snuffling, settling for the night, surrounded him. The barn smelled clean and sweet from new hay and warm horseflesh. A soft whicker greeted him as he approached the stall where Paul had housed his runaway animal.
“Don’t think it’s much of a coincidence you’re named Hooligan, huh, old boy?” Vance asked, rubbing the horse’s nose with affection. “You’re supposed to keep him safe, ya dumb beast.”
Hooligan snorted and bumped his shoulder. “You checked him over?” Vance asked, eyes on the animal as he spoke to Paul.
“I did. He’s none the worse for wear. Tired is all. And hungry. He always did eat a lot.”
Vance smiled at his horse. “Yes, he does.” He gave him one last pat and turned to the other rancher. “What do I owe you for this?”
Paul waved the question off. “Not a thing. One good turn, right?
”
Grateful, Vance thanked him.
“You’re not thinking of riding back tonight, though,” Paul said. “Nearly dark out there.”
Vance sighed. “I don’t suppose…?”
Paul grinned again and nodded. “I have room. Nancy’s just putting dinner on the table. You settle your animals there.” He pointed across the aisle. “Two free stalls. You can set the tack in the tack room over there.” Again he pointed. “Come on in when you’re done, have some supper, and you can borrow a truck to get home.”
“We’ll come back for them first thing,” Vance assured his neighbor.
“It’s no trouble.”
“I can’t thank you enough,” Vance said.
Paul shrugged it off. “Shit happens. Your animals are safe enough till morning. Meantime, let’s get some food into you all and see about his bloody nose.” He wagged his chin at Len. “Not hurt too bad?”
Vance followed his gaze and watched Len shake his head. “No. I’m sorry about the fuss. He got away from me.” His gaze flicked to Vance. “Not that good a rider yet.”
“Like I said”—Paul patted Len’s shoulder as he left the barn—“shit happens. All’s well as ends with no broken bones.”
Len nodded, watching him leave.
“Seeing as how Paul took care of your horse for you,” Vance said, catching Len’s attention with a hand on his shoulder, “you can take care of mine. You want to ride them, you look after them. You want to take off on your own, you remember they are the dumb beasts and you are the master. Now act like it.”
Len nodded and hurried to Kilmer’s side to take the reins of Vance’s mount.
“Come on,” Kilmer said with a sigh. “I’ll show you what to do.”
“I’ll be inside,” Vance called, and Kilmer lifted a hand, waving as he walked away. Len glanced back at him with such misery on his face, Vance’s heart cracked a tiny bit more. The man was going to give him a heart attack yet.