Saddle Up

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Saddle Up Page 12

by A. M. Arthur


  Reyes nodded, pleased by that information. And really pleased by how much Miles was telling him about his personal life. Telling him the things friends knew about each other. Giving Reyes a more vivid picture of the man he’d fallen for.

  “Sophomore year was more of the same, me acting out. I got in with a group of guys who could get alcohol, cigarettes, and E for cheap, and we were hellions in school. I started stealing shit from convenience stores just for the thrill of it, because I had money. I was probably accepted into the group so fast because I was a rich kid who could pay for their liquor and drugs, so they shared with me.” He glanced at Reyes, his eyes uncertain. “It was definitely the worst phase of my life.”

  Reyes guided Hot Coffee onto another trail when it forked in two directions. “What turned you around?”

  Miles sighed. “We were out one night, driving around, doing shots and being hella irresponsible, as usual. I was in the back seat, and all I remember is puffing on a cigarette one minute, and then waking up with flashing lights all around us, the car upside down.”

  “Fuck.” Reyes startled. “Were you hurt?”

  “Broken collarbone, but one of my friends...he got tossed from the car when it swerved to avoid an oncoming van and started rolling down an incline. He died on the scene.”

  “I’m so sorry, Miles.” His heart hurt for Miles’s old pain, and he wished they were close enough for Reyes to touch him. Even just to squeeze his wrist and offer that support.

  Miles shrugged. “It was ten years ago, but that’s what really did it. One minute, my pal is alive and telling crude sex jokes, and the next he’s dead. I didn’t want to die young, too, so I got my shit together. Cut out the drugs and drinking, started pulling my grades back up with extra credit.” He reached down to pet Tango’s flank. “The weird part is the most concern and affection I ever got from my parents was after the accident. They came to my hospital room, my mother stayed home with me for the first few days until I adjusted to life with only my left hand. But then it was over, life back to normal and me in the background. Ignored.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It is what it is. But it put me on the path to creating my own life separate from them. I got scholarships so they didn’t have to pay all my tuition. I wanted as little from them as possible, and I worked my ass off to get where I am today.”

  Safe and here with me.

  Reyes puffed with pride over Miles’s accomplishments. “I know it isn’t the same as hearing it from your parents, but I am so proud of you, Miles. I mean it.”

  “I know.” Miles’s gentle smile warmed his insides. “You’ve never lied to me. Not once since we first met.”

  “I admit, I wasn’t always honest or trustworthy. I had my own rebellious years in high school, and I hurt a lot of people. My blood family in particular.”

  Miles watched him with open curiosity, but Reyes wasn’t sure he was ready to see the shock and disappointment his truths would bring to Miles’s lovely face.

  “If you ever want to talk about it,” Miles said after a few minutes of silence, “I’m a good listener.”

  “I know, and thank you. Perhaps one day.”

  They rode awhile longer, before Reyes led them toward the pond. It was in a valley dotted with trees, and they chose the largest of them for their campsite. A high place to tie their food and shelter for the horses, which they took care of first. Reyes tackled their tent, while Miles set about collecting wood and getting a small fire going.

  The companionable silence was so easy, so familiar, that neither man felt the need to fill the air with small talk. They spoke very little during the setup of camp and preparation of dinner—canned beef stew that was easy to heat, along with some cornbread from Patrice’s kitchen. Warm water washed it all down.

  Then they went to sit by the pond’s edge and admire the stars. The still water reflected the sky back to them, making it seem endless.

  “You didn’t swim last year,” Reyes said, apropos of nothing. The memory simply jumped in and then popped out of his mouth.

  “No.” Miles closed his eyes and let his chin drop to his chest.

  “Can you swim?”

  “Yes.” He looked up, his green eyes too shiny. “I was kind of a mess last year when I was here, and I wasn’t comfortable being that exposed to other people.”

  Reyes resisted the urge to growl. “Because of something Dallas did?”

  Miles nodded, but didn’t add anything. And why should he? Miles had already been incredibly honest with Reyes about his past tonight, opening himself up, and Reyes wanted to share a little bit of himself with Miles.

  “Almost six years ago now, my ladder responded to an industrial fire in Lynwood, a neighborhood in Los Angeles,” Reyes said. “We had a rookie on the crew, a kid named Luke Russell. He was a good kid, earnest, ready to prove himself, so the chief told me to mentor him. Settle him down, so to speak, and I tried. This was his first major fire, though, and he was excited to get out there.”

  Miles angled to face him more fully, but Reyes couldn’t meet his eyes, so he told this story to Miles’s throat.

  “It was a pretty big fire and an old building, and we weren’t the only ladder on it. When a few area homeless said sometimes people squatted in that building, we were sent to look. Luke and I were given the third floor, because a lot of the fire hadn’t gotten there yet, and we had a safe staircase to use. I didn’t see anyone, but Luke insisted he did and he took off. Toward the fucking fire.”

  A hand squeezed Reyes’s knee. He covered Miles’s with his and held tight.

  “Luke wasn’t watching the floor, and his boot went through. He got stuck, and when I tried to help free him, the rest of it collapsed, and we both fell to the floor below. Got pinned by burning debris. It had started burning so hot below us, that even with our suits, we burned. My legs were on fire, and I couldn’t move. All I could do was radio over and over for help, while Luke slowly burned to death right next to me.” His voice fractured. “I couldn’t save him.”

  “Oh, Reyes.” Miles wrapped his lean arm around Reyes’s shoulders and pressed his forehead into his neck. “It was an accident. A terrible, tragic accident.”

  “It was my job to look out for him.” Reyes had no tears left to cry. He’d cried them all out in the grueling months afterward, as he accepted his role in getting Luke killed, and as he suffered through skin grafts and grueling physical therapy to walk again.

  “It wasn’t your fault he died.”

  Reyes looped an arm around Miles’s shoulders, grateful for the support. He’d been told that over and over, for years without believing it. But when Miles said it...it was easier to believe. He didn’t have the same history with Miles as he had with Mack and Colt, and even his brothers at the firehouse. Miles wasn’t trying to assuage his guilt, he was simply being honest. Still... “His parents still lost their son. His siblings a brother.”

  “It. Was. An. Accident.”

  “A preventable accident.”

  “You can’t know that for sure. What if his boot hadn’t gotten stuck and he went deeper into the building? What if you’d fallen through in a different room and you’d both been killed?”

  “What if we’d both gotten out safely?”

  “But you didn’t. It happened, just like what I went through with Dallas happened. But you didn’t kill Luke. Your actions didn’t kill Luke. A fire started and he got stuck. Period. His death was an accident, Reyes.”

  Reyes looked up at the heartache in Miles’s voice, then turned Miles’s head so their eyes met. Miles’s expression was sad, but also determined. Reyes’s heart fluttered, because those words finally sank in. He’d mourned Luke’s death and blamed himself, sometimes wishing he’d died instead. But he hadn’t, and Reyes needed to learn to live with that. To really accept that it was an accident, and Miles had finally hammered that point home. �
��It was an accident,” Reyes said tentatively, the words strange on his tongue.

  “An accident,” Miles repeated. “And look at it this way. If you’d died instead, I never would have met you.”

  Those words hit home for Reyes. If he’d died, he wouldn’t have been here to meet Miles. They wouldn’t have spent the past few months getting to know each other, becoming friends.

  I wouldn’t be here to love him.

  And Reyes did love Miles, not only as a friend, but as a platonic lover, and he’d never risk losing their friendship by admitting that.

  “You’re right,” Reyes whispered. “I’m so glad to have met you.”

  “Same.” Miles swallowed hard once, his gaze flittering to Reyes’s mouth. Then he turned his face toward the stars. “Thank you for telling me about Luke. Is that why you don’t ever wear shorts? Because you burned your legs?”

  “Yes. It isn’t vanity, exactly. When people see burns, the least tactful always want to know how you got them. Only person I don’t bother hiding them from is Mack, because he knows it all. Every secret, every bad thing I ever did.”

  Except for one.

  “I get it. I wish I’d had a friend like Mack my whole life like you did. Maybe I never would have fallen for Dallas and his bullshit.”

  “Maybe. But then maybe you and I never would have met.”

  Miles looked at him, his lips quirking. “True. Past is past, right?”

  “Right.” And Reyes was tired of their pasts intruding on this otherwise beautiful night. “I think I’m about ready to turn in. You?”

  “I’m going to sit here for a while.”

  “Okay. See you in the morning, Miles.”

  “Yeah. Good night.”

  Reyes studied Miles’s peaceful profile for a moment, glad he was leaving the younger man in a good mood, before getting up and heading for the tent. And for the first time in years, some of his burden of guilt over Luke’s death disappeared.

  Thank you, Miles. Thank you for this gift.

  * * *

  Miles woke to the unexpected sensation of a hot body pressing against his back and ass, and he froze, confused and frightened, until he caught the familiar cadence of Reyes’s deep breathing and a hint of his cologne. Camping with Reyes. And while yes, their backs and butts appeared to be pressed close, they still had two sleeping bags between them.

  Not that Miles wouldn’t have minded a proper morning cuddle, but he didn’t want to send Reyes mixed messages. Do things that conflicted with his spoken desire not to have a romantic relationship with the man.

  Except, didn’t they kind of already have one? They spent time together, lived together, and were each other’s emotional support person. They defended each other. Shared friends and a social circle. Everything couples did, except get physical. And not all couples did that. Miles had worked with a line cook last year who was asexual and in a completely platonic, romantic relationship with a woman.

  Miles wanted to have sex again, eventually, but he wasn’t ready. He still had too many issues to work through before that could happen.

  He also wasn’t working through those issues; instead, he was doing everything possible to ignore them entirely. Hell, he’d come all the way to Clean Slate to avoid his issues. He’d also come for Reyes, even if he had a hard time admitting it. But he couldn’t have Reyes, so there was no sense in dreaming.

  His bladder full, Miles sat up and reached for the zipper. Pulled slowly, so the noise didn’t wake Reyes. A flash of brown outside made him freeze, heart in his throat. Miles leaned forward and peeked through the small opening he’d made.

  A coyote and five pups were rough-and-tumbling-it near the pond. Miles stared, wishing for his camera, but unwilling to startle the family into bolting. As quietly as he could, he woke Reyes and indicated he should look. Reyes grinned at the family, then opened the tent just enough so they could both see out, cheeks pressed together.

  One pup tried to chew another’s ear, and a third used that distraction to pounce on them both. Miles had no idea how old they were, but they were adorable, just like any other puppies out on a play date. Reyes pulled out his phone and stealthily snapped a few photos. Miles couldn’t stop looking to find his.

  This was the ranch land in action. The wildlife that roamed and reinvented itself spring after spring, living next to men without bothering them, and vice versa. The little coyote family was no threat to them.

  Eventually, they drank from the pond and moved on.

  “That was beautiful,” Reyes said. “Thank you for waking me up to witness it.”

  “I needed someone to share it with. Other than in a zoo, this is the closest I’ve ever been to a real wild animal.”

  “Haven’t seen many coyotes myself over the years, but when I do they’re usually farther out. Maybe this is their watering hole.”

  “Maybe.” Miles grinned. “I’m glad the big blue tent didn’t scare them away.”

  “Same.”

  They continued smiling at each other, and something new shifted between them. Another understanding of how similarly they viewed the world. Of how much they treasured nature and all of her gifts. How they both found simple beauty in a world that tried to make beauty so damned complex and expensive.

  And that shift scared him, because Miles wasn’t sure he was ready for it. So he excused himself from the tent to relieve himself, confused and elated and everything else in between.

  I want him. But I’m too much of a coward to reach for him.

  Maybe one day, after a lot more self-care, Miles would have the courage to reach for what he wanted. To step outside of his protective bubble and chase the happiness that, deep down, he believed he deserved. To be finally, truly happy.

  Please.

  Chapter Ten

  Miles was glad to ease back into the steady pace of work on Thursday morning after spending the past two days battling with himself over his attraction to Reyes. The part of him that woke up hard most mornings and ached for more relief than his own hand was on board with acting on it. The part of him he left behind in Dallas’s bedroom over a year ago was not ready to go there yet.

  So he threw himself into prep for the day. Since they were closed Tuesday and Wednesday, Monday nights they frequently gave away leftovers that wouldn’t hold for the “weekend.” Most dishes, like the stews and beans, had to be started from scratch.

  Miles grabbed presoaked beans out of the refrigerator and got started on the pintos and ham hock dish, while Shawn rolled dough for pies and sourdough bread. They worked in easy silence, and not long after opening, a few orders for pie came in, which Annabelle cut and served herself. The servers were pitching in more with the easy stuff, mostly to keep themselves busy during the quietest parts of their day.

  He appreciated it, because Mack had given him permission to add his buffalo chili to the menu, so that was extra prep work today. He’d already added it to the big slate menu board that hung over the bar, and the girls would announce it as a special until new print menus were approved.

  Around eleven fifteen, the lunch rush picked up and Miles began firing several buffalo burgers at once. Just as he was picking up a few more tickets, Mack entered the kitchen from the back door, his expression as serious as Miles had ever seen the man. And he was looking right at Miles.

  “What’s wrong?” Miles asked.

  “Probably nothing, but I need a small favor,” Mack replied as he strode forward.

  “Sure, name it.”

  “During today’s saloon holdup, I want you to stay in the kitchen. I’ve already told the guys, and I’ll let Annabelle and Emily know, too.”

  Miles frowned. “Why? Some sort of surprise rewrite?” Not that Miles minded the chance to keep cooking, instead of acting for ten minutes, but the change threw him a bit.

  “No, this is just for today. Please?�


  He studied Mack, who looked like he was trying to hide his anger over something. And Mack kept worrying his hat with his fingers. “I’ll stay in the kitchen if you tell me why. What’s going on?”

  At this point, even Shawn had stopped slicing bread to listen.

  “Dallas is here,” Mack finally said.

  Miles dropped his turner on the ground, and his stomach plummeted to meet it. “Are you serious?”

  “I’d never joke about that. Wes spotted him by the blacksmith shop, and he pointed the asshole out to me. I don’t know what he’s doing here, but making a scene, or kicking him out before he does anything rude or disruptive is practically admitting you’re here, and we don’t want him getting proof you are.”

  “Right.” Miles hated the way his insides were trembling all over the place. “Yeah, I’ll stay in the kitchen. No problem.”

  “Thank you. I snapped a picture, and I’ll show the servers so they can keep an eye out, make sure he doesn’t go snooping near the kitchen door.”

  “I appreciate that. Thanks, Mack. I’m sorry my issues are fucking with your town.”

  Mack waved a hand in the air. “You’re family, man. I protect family.”

  Miles’s throat closed, so he nodded instead of speaking. Mack went into the dining room to talk to their servers, and Miles washed his turner.

  “Let me guess,” Shawn said quietly. “Ex?”

  “Obsessive ex.” Miles quickly flipped the burgers so they didn’t burn. The only thing he could think was that Dallas heard about Wes’s involvement with the ghost town, and Dallas was here hoping to find Miles. Because Miles had been careful. His photo wasn’t on the official website, and the few times he’d been caught in the background, Wes had blurred his face before posting to social media.

  Dallas was spitballing, that was all. Miles would simply hide in the kitchen until someone reported Dallas had left, and he’d be fine.

 

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