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“No kidding,” Hoyt muttered, looking at the food. He started to get out of the recliner then sank back, sighing. Teague immediately got up to help him.
“Stop right there,” Tony barked out. “He has to do it on his own.”
“For the love of God, he just got out of the hospital and this chair is not easy for anyone to get out of, any more than the car was. I had to help him in and out when I brought him home.”
“If he’d remember to raise the back to its upright position,” Tony said with a smirk.
“Okay. Point made,” Teague muttered, adding, “What were you in your last life? A flight attendant?”
While Teague and Tony were bickering, Hoyt did raise the back of the chair and got to his feet. Now he snickered at Teague’s comment while taking a seat on the sofa. “More like Nurse Ratched.”
“Like hell. She was a novice compared to me,” Tony replied without blinking. Then he laughed. “Yeah, I’m being tough on you, Hoyt. You won’t get back to normal if I baby you.” He looked at Teague. “Remember that. The more he does for himself, without overdoing it, the better. I’m sure his PT will reinforce that when he sees her today. Now eat, both of you, before it gets cold.”
“Me?” Teague said with surprise.
“Yep, because I’m out of here. My shift is over. But I’ll be back. Just like…”
“The Terminator,” the three men said in unison.
“Guess he’s not such a badass after all,” Teague said after Tony had left.
“Could have fooled me until a few minutes ago.” Hoyt took a bite of the omelet Tony had made. “And not a bad cook if this is any indication.”
Teague nodded, asking, “What time is your appointment?”
“In an hour and a half.”
“Then we better finish eating and get moving.” Teague winked. “It’ll take you twenty minutes just to get into the car since I can’t help you.”
“And I do need to change clothes. Not because I’m stinky—” he grinned, “—but I’ll be damned if I’m going out wearing what I have on now.”
“Don’t like the rustic, sloppy look?”
“Not really.”
They finished eating, then Teague put the dishes in the dishwasher. When he came out of the kitchen, Hoyt was nowhere in sight. “Where’d you get to?” he called out.
“Upstairs. And I could use your help. One-handed dressing isn’t as easy as it’s cracked up to be. Especially since I have to use my left hand.”
Teague went up to find Hoyt standing in the middle of the bedroom. He had managed to change from the sweatpants into a pair of jeans, and now he was trying to button his shirt.
“Here, let me,” Teague said. “Why didn’t you pick a sweatshirt?”
“Umm, maybe because none of mine open up the front? I don’t think wrestling one on is in the cards right now.”
While Teague buttoned the shirt, he realized he’d never been this close to Hoyt other than last night when the man had fallen asleep with his head on Teague’s shoulder. Teague liked the feeling of…Well not physical intimacy, but close to it.
Apparently Hoyt felt the same way, because when Teague finished and started to step away Hoyt gripped his arm, his expression saying better than words that he wanted something more. He slid his hand up Teague’s arm slowly, locking his gaze with Teague’s. Both men remained that way for a long moment, Hoyt’s focus moving from Teague’s eyes to his lips. “Sorry,” he whispered, “but I need to know…” Leaning in, he kissed Teague.
For a second, Teague resisted. Then he kissed him back. The kiss was short and sweet. And…“Very nice,” Teague murmured when he pulled away.
Hoyt smiled. “Nothing to write home about, but maybe…” He looked slightly embarrassed before he grinned. “Maybe a text?”
“An email,” Teague retorted, carefully hugging him. “Now however, we should get moving before your PT thinks you’re standing her up.”
“And we know how women hate that.”
“We do?”
Hoyt snorted. “Well, all things considered, probably not.”
* * * *
Hoyt’s joking mood of earlier that morning was obviously just a memory for him. When he came out of the PT’s office at the hospital his face was drawn with lines of pain that made Teague want to go in and have a few words with her. He almost said something when she appeared moments later.
She must have seen how Teague felt from his expression, because she said, “He did well for his first time. It’s never easy but it will get better. Your man’s a fighter.”
Teague was thrown by her ‘your man’ comment. “We’re not…We’re just friends.”
“Without benefits,” Hoyt added sharply. “Just friends.”
She looked between them and nodded. “If you say so. Hoyt, I expect to see you the same time tomorrow and you are to do the exercises I gave you. Also take your arm out of the sling for half an hour a couple of times today. Straighten your arm, move your wrist and hand. While you’re using the sling, move your fingers, hand, and wrist the way I showed you so they don’t lock up. You are not to take off the shoulder immobilizer until I tell you that you can.”
“Can I take a shower with it?”
She chuckled. “Water won’t hurt it, but it won’t do the dressing on your wound any good, which I’m sure your doctor already told you. So you’re stuck with baths only until he says otherwise.”
“I hate baths,” Hoyt grumbled.
“Tough. Deal.” She grinned at him. “I know you’re a big boy now but it’s baths only, unless of course you want to smell like a horse after a race. Then you can skip them.”
Hoyt broke out a smile, much to Teague’s relief, saying to him, “What’s with everyone thinking I stink?”
“Well, there is a certain aroma about you,” Teague commented without batting an eye.
The PT laughed, reminded Hoyt again that she’d see him in the morning. “Go home and let him baby you.”
“Not damned likely,” Teague said, shaking his head when Hoyt lifted his middle finger. As they left the waiting room, Teague heard the PT murmur, “Just friends my ass,” before the door closed.
* * * *
The rest of the day passed much as Teague expected. At Hoyt’s insistence, they made a quick stop at a local men’s clothing store to get him two sweatshirts that zipped up the front. “It’s getting chilly enough that I need more than just a shirt, even if they are flannel,” was his excuse. Teague suspected the real reason was that zippers only required one hand.
When they got back to Hoyt’s house, Teague told Hoyt to sit while Teague made lunch. Hoyt did, in the kitchen, giving advice on how to make the sandwiches.
“I have,” Teague pointed out dryly, “made them more than once in my lifetime.”
“Then why are you only using mayo? They need mustard, too. Lots of it. And the soup needs some spicing up.”
Resisting rolling his eyes, Teague did as Hoyt requested, put the sandwiches on plates, the soup in bowls, and joined Hoyt at the table to eat. It was amusing to watch Hoyt try to spoon up his soup using his left hand. When Hoyt growled with frustration, Teague found a large mug in the cupboard, transferring the soup into it.
After he finished cleaning up the lunch dishes, Teague suggested that Hoyt do his time without the sling and then go take a nap. It looked as if Hoyt would balk at the nap idea, until he yawned while he was straightening and flexing his elbow and wrist. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”
“You’re just beginning your recovery and even though it might not have seemed it, you undoubtedly expended a lot of energy working with the PT.”
“Trust me, I know I did. That woman makes Torquemada seem like an angel.”
“Just what you need, you stubborn man.”
“Me? I want this over and gone.” Hoyt touched his shoulder. “The harder she works me the sooner that will happen. So I’m not being at all stubborn.”
“Knowing you, you’ll work
it too hard and re-damage it.”
“I don’t think she’ll let that happen.” He regarded Teague. “Neither will you.”
The corner of Teague’s lip quirked up. “I’ll do my best to keep you in check.” While I’m here. That thought sobered him, although he tried not to show it.
“Okay, I guess I’d better get my ass upstairs before you have to carry me to bed.”
Teague pointed to the recliner. “That’s where you’ll end up if you fall asleep now.”
“I’ll—” Hoyt yawned, “—pass.” He started up the stairs, pausing to look back at Teague. “You coming?” When Teague cocked an eyebrow, Hoyt said, “It’ll save me picking up stray buttons sometime in the future.”
“All right. I get the message.”
When they got to the bedroom, Teague helped him remove his shirt, “Without popping any buttons,” Hoyt commented with a sleepy laugh. Since he was only napping, he decided not to fight taking off his jeans, so after he toed off his shoes, Hoyt settled on the bed, trying to get comfortable. “Maybe I should have opted for the recliner again.”
“Try this,” Teague suggested, easing a pillow under Holt’s shoulder brace and arm. “You did take your pain pills, I hope.”
“Yep. While you were doing the dishes. That’s probably one of the reasons I’m tired.” He patted the edge of the bed. “Stay until I’m asleep?”
With a nod, Teague sat. “From the look of you, that will be any second now.”
“And then you’ll be free to take off and do whatever.”
“Not until Tony gets here.”
“You can, you know. You didn’t sign on to be my day nurse. Not that I don’t appreciate you being here. In fact…” Hoyt’s eyes closed momentarily before he opened them to look at Teague. “Maybe I should be glad Irwin shot me. You’d have left town already if you didn’t think I needed a helping hand.”
“Maybe,” Teague admitted. “I’ve been gone well over a week. I know my people are competent to run the agency, but I am the owner. At some point I’m going to have to get back there.” He chuckled. “Before they think I’ve abdicated.”
“Can’t have that,” Hoyt replied bitterly.
Teague brushed a knuckle over Hoyt’s jaw. “It is what it is, as someone said. We both know I’ll be leaving.”
“Even though…we seem to have something going on between us?”
“How could we make it work?” Teague asked softly. “No, don’t try to answer that now. You’re on meds and more than half asleep. Not a time to have a serious discussion about…anything.”
“This isn’t just anything.” Hoyt sighed deeply. “I guess you’re right though. Damn, you’d think at my age…” His voice faded out and Teague saw that he had finally fallen asleep.
“I know,” Teague murmured. “At our age we should know better than to look at this as anything more than a brief attraction at best. Even more so since we only met a week ago. You’re a nice man, Hoyt Newman. If things were different…” He bent to gently kiss Hoyt’s forehead. “But they aren’t.”
* * * *
Tony arrived before Hoyt work up, so Teague filled him in on the day and then took off. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to the motel. He knew himself well enough to know that if he did he’d spend his time going over and over why he and Hoyt, as a couple, wouldn’t work. God only knows I’ve done that already. Too much. It’s the only thing I’ve thought about for the past few days, when I wasn’t worrying about the murders.
As he drove past The Red Calf he decided stopping for supper would kill some time. Pulling into their lot, he parked and went inside. The place was busier than he expected considering it was a Sunday evening. He didn’t see any empty tables so he went to the bar, taking a seat at the end.
“You’re back again. You’re becoming a regular,” the bartender commented before asking what Teague was drinking. “Where’s your friend?”
For a second Teague thought he meant Hoyt, which was strange since the two of them had never come to the club together. Then he realized he meant Irwin, or Will as he’d been calling himself when Teague met him. “He’s in the hospital,” Teague replied, surprised the man didn’t know that, and the reason behind it.
“Ouch. Well, when you visit him; tell him I said to get well fast. He’s a nice young man and a good customer,” the bartender said, setting Teague’s beer down.
“You might want to rethink that,” Teague said with a wry laugh. “You’ve heard about the murders here, haven’t you?”
“Yeah. It’s about all people talked about for the last couple of weeks. What’s that got to do with Will?” Then the light seemed to dawn. “The guy tried to kill him, too?”
“Nope.” Teague waited a beat until he was certain he had the man’s complete attention. “Will, as he called himself, was the murderer.”
“Fuck. You have to be kidding. He’s a nice guy. Okay…” The bartender shook his head. “If that’s true I guess he isn’t so nice after all.”
“To put it mildly. We caught him as he was trying to kill a young man who works for me.”
“We? You’re a cop?”
“No.” Teague went on to tell him the gist of what had happened.
“Unbelievable,” the bartender muttered when Teague finished. “Why the hell would someone do that? Kill those kids like that?”
“I’m sure the police will find out once he’s well enough to be questioned.”
“If they do, can you let me know? No, probably not.” He grinned ruefully. “The joys of being a bartender. I hear the beginning of someone’s story but half the time that’s about it.”
Teague chuckled. “Since this isn’t Callahan’s Crosstime Saloon, I’m not surprised.”
“What?”
“It’s a saloon in a series of books. Look for them if you like reading. They’re amusing and philosophical.” Teague was surprised when the bartender actually took time to note the title on a paper napkin, asking who wrote them. “Spider Robinson,” Teague told him.
The bartender walked away at that point to take care of other customers. Leaning back, Teague did some people-watching until he spotted an empty table. Grabbing his beer, he hurried over, just beating out two men who were heading toward it. They kidded him about being fast on his feet before going to the bar to wait for the next free table.
This is a nice town with nice people. No wonder Hoyt likes it here. It’s just…too small. He smiled to himself. So says the man who grew up in a small town—and left as soon as I could. I need what I have now. Life in a big city with all it has to offer. My agency, my friends. Even if Hoyt and I do have something real going on between us, I’d go bug fuck living here. On the other hand, he’d be miserable after a few weeks of living in a city. Teague realized he was rehashing all the arguments for his leaving as soon as possible. Yeah, it’ll hurt. But in the long run it’s for the best. I’ll tell him in the morning that it’s time for me to go back. He’s an adult. He’s got Tony to help him overnight. I’m sure he’s got friends to drive him to his appointments. Time to make the break before things get more serious—if that’s where we were heading.
Picking up the menu, Teague made his choice and told the waitress when she came over. Then, in order to keep from thinking, he went to the rack by the cashier, bought one of the national papers, and settled down to read.
* * * *
Chapter 13
Teague didn’t have to make up some excuse for leaving the next morning. He was dressed, and getting ready to head down to the motel’s restaurant to pick up something to eat, when his phone rang.
“Now that the murders are solved, when are you planning on coming back?” Jake asked almost before Teague could get out a “Hello.”
“Problems?” Teague asked since Jake sounded tense.
“Not per se, but we just picked up three new clients in the last couple of days so your presence would be appreciated.”
“Is that your way of saying I should have gotten my a
ss back there yesterday?”
Jake chuckled. “Guess it is.”
“All right. If I leave within the hour, I should be back this evening, barring car problems or bad traffic.”
“Good. How are you by the way? Healed up?”
“Damn, I told you the last time we spoke, it was just a flesh wound. I was almost healed before I left the hospital.”
“Uh-huh. I’ll take your word for it since Keir said about the same thing. At least you weren’t the one who took a bullet to the shoulder. That would make driving a no-go.”
“Yeah,” Teague replied a bit distractedly since his thoughts immediately went to Hoyt and how he was going to tell him he was leaving.
“Okay,” Jake said, “I should let you go so you can pack and get out of there. See you in the morning.”
“That you will.” Teague broke the connection, then got his bags from the closet. As he folded shirts and pants, he tried to decide on the best way to approach Hoyt. “Call when I’m halfway home,” he muttered. He knew though that he wouldn’t do that. I may…I do have my faults, but cowardice isn’t one of them.
He finished packing, checked the room to be certain he hadn’t forgotten anything, and then went down to the motel’s front desk to check out. While he put his bags in the Trek he prayed, “Please let Hoyt understand. Or, more to the point, let him accept that I’m leaving and why.”
Ten minutes later he parked in front of Hoyt’s house, walked to the door and rang the bell.
Tony let Teague in, saying, “You’re early.”
“Yeah I know. Is he up and moving?”
“He is. He should be down in a couple. I was just fixing breakfast, if you want some.”
“No thanks.” Teague glanced at the stairs. “Okay if I go up?”
“I don’t see why not.” Tony frowned. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
Teague just nodded, heading up to Hoyt’s bedroom. When he walked in, Hoyt was standing at the window. He turned to look at Teague, smiled momentarily, then gave a shake of his head as he repeated Tony’s words. “You’re leaving.”