by Sunny Day
It was the middle of the day, and the sun was shining brightly, blinding him temporarily. Leslie pulled the hat lower, blinking to allow his eyes to adjust. He walked down the street. He’d left the truck in front of the grocery store and walked to Ben’s. Leslie usually bought the groceries for Midnight Stars every two weeks. There was a list both he and Calvin added to during that time. Whoever went to town just picked it up. He’d done so this time. There was no sense in wasting a trip to town.
“Hi, Leslie,” the grocery store owner, Wendy Marshall, greeted him. She pursed her lips at him. She was at the cash register. Behind her, in neatly filled rows with merchandise, Leslie could see a couple people browsing. “You’re early,” she said. “Run out of something?” Her voice was teasing. Leslie remembered Wendy giving him cookies when he’d come to town with his uncle for the first time.
“There are four men on Midnight Stars. We are always out of something. And I was already coming to town.”
“Men,” she said indulgently, narrowing her eyes at Grant Corbin, the town’s newly elected sheriff, who stopped at the register. Glancing at his basket, Leslie suppressed a laugh. As far as he knew, Grant was living alone. The contents of his basket reflected that. Leslie could see soda, chips, and some ready-made meals.
Wendy gave the sheriff a pointed look. Despite being over six feet tall and armed, the sheriff fidgeted. Leslie decided to make his escape.
By the time Leslie returned to the register, the sheriff had already left, with no doubt, some healthier choices for his diet. Wendy had no children of her own and tended to mother everyone she thought needed it.
“I heard you argued with Ben,” Wendy said, ringing his purchases. Wendy was a consummate gossip.
“I did not.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
“How did you hear? I left his store not an hour ago,” Leslie asked, puzzled.
Wendy rolled her eyes. “I have my sources.”
He remembered that. The day after he was left in his uncle’s care, the older man had taken him to town. No one then knew who he was, bar Wendy, who had correctly called him “Leslie” and “Marsha’s boy.”
“We didn’t argue. We had a discussion.”
“But you’re not going to do business with him anymore?”
Leslie shrugged. He didn’t see the point in denying. “No, that part is true. But we didn’t argue.” He started to gather his bags.
“Asher is not going to be happy about that,” Wendy said knowingly. Leslie froze. It was the second time he heard that implied.
“You know, Calvin said the same. What’s that about? To my knowledge, Ash is not involved in store business.”
“It is part of their holdings.”
“I didn’t know that. Don’t the Richards own it?”
“They did. They almost lost it, though, before Lila Foster married Sam Richards. She brought a hell of a lot of money with her, but you know the way the Fosters are. They keep both their members and their money close.”
Shit. He hadn’t even considered that. Maybe he ought to have talked to Ash before all this. Still, Ben had been the one to make the problem, even if he clearly didn’t expect Leslie to react the way he did.
“It’s not my problem,” he said firmly.
“It could be. You and Asher are close.”
Not for the first time, Leslie wondered whether the townspeople knew about him and Ash. They’d always been close. But did people know how close? They certainly never did anything to make people talk, but after so many years and him and Ash never showing an interest in anyone else, he wouldn’t be surprised if some had guessed correctly. No one said anything to his face, referring to Ash as just his friend. He guessed Ash’s family’s tremendous influence helped some in that regard. People were going to be careful what they said about a Foster, and his close association protected Leslie somewhat. He was bemused. Ash’s family knew. Both his and Ash’s hands had to know. It was almost impossible for nothing to have filtered to town. He guessed it was what people called an open secret. He shook his head as he noticed Wendy staring at him.
“That’d be all, thanks, Wendy.”
“How is your cousin?” she asked as he hefted the bags.
“I heard from him lately. He got a promotion. Bye, Mrs. Marshall.”
Leslie dumped the bags carelessly into the truck and climbed inside. He wanted to get to Midnight Stars as soon as possible, the unplanned visit to town throwing off his schedule.
Leslie woke with an effort, his mind fuzzy and his thoughts scattered and unfocused. He realized he was prone on his back. He forced his eyes to open and was greeted with the white ceiling of an unfamiliar room. He stared at it for a couple seconds, trying to get his memories in some semblance of order. The unfamiliar ceiling didn’t make sense. It wasn’t an occurrence that never happened before. He had spent a fair share of his mornings in nondescript motels on the road during his rodeo days, but it shouldn’t be happening now. He had been going to the Midnight Stars, right? Why wasn’t he there, instead of here?
And he hurt.
His shoulder ached. His legs ached. And his head was pounding.
He groaned, and tried to move his arm. Bad idea, as it snagged on something.
“Well, well, look who is awake,” drawled a familiar voice to his left. He knew that voice. Leslie slowly turned his head, realizing he was in a bed. He wondered what was going on.
“Zack?” he rasped. His throat was dry and constricted.
His old friend reclined in an uncomfortable-looking plastic chair next to his bed. He was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, his jacket bundled into a makeshift pillow. He looked ruffled, so likely he had spent the night there. He stretched his arms. “God, I hate hospitals.” He stood up, leaning over Leslie. The look he gave him was worried.
“Yeah, it’s really me. How are you feeling? Just so you know, you gave us quite a scare.”
Leslie considered this. How was he feeling? “Like the eight seconds weren’t worth it,” he answered truthfully. He was in a hospital. He wet his dry lips. “What are you doing here?” Zack patted his arm comfortingly. Leslie followed it with his eyes. His arm appeared to be hooked to myriad of things. Some of them were beeping. It was freaking him out.
What was he doing in the hospital? Zack must have noticed his rising panic.
“I know the feeling,” he said in a soothing voice. “Calm down. Give me a sec, I’ll call the nurse.”
Giving Leslie a reassuring look, he left, stretching his arms as he walked. Leslie stared after him in confusion. That’s right. His old rodeo buddy had a serious accident more than a year ago. Last time they spoke, Zack said he was completely recovered, but hadn’t said he was returning to the rodeo. But what was he doing here, and more importantly, why was Leslie in the hospital?
He heard Zack speaking with someone, and then a blonde nurse hurried in.
“I’ll page Dr. Allen,” she said, leaning over him. How are you feeling, Mr. Kilmer?”
Leslie was spared having to answer when the doctor showed up. At first he attempted to talk to them. They seemed completely focused on doing their task and ignored his questions. Giving up, Leslie settled for suffering quietly the indignity of a checkup. He’d at least managed to figure out that most of his injuries were nonthreatening. He heaved a sigh of relief. He was doomed to stay in the hospital for at least two more weeks, but after that he was free. Once the doctor left, barking orders at the nurse, Zack appeared again. He was grinning. He had a cup of something in his hand. Leslie eyed it wistfully.
“Is that coffee?”
“Yes, and no, you’re not getting any,” Zack said, settling into the chair again. He frowned, a pained wince going over his face. “God, I hate hospitals.” He took a sip of coffee. “That’s better,” he sighed contentedly. Leslie fixed him with a glare. “Sorry, doctor’s orders.”
That was another bone of contention.
“You left me with them,” he accused.
“Had to,” Zack explained.
“Thanks a lot, pal.”
“I’m sorry, Leslie, but they needed to know how you are. They did a surgery as soon as you arrived. You slipped into a coma for almost two weeks, and resurfaced only last night.”
Leslie felt his eyes widen. An emergency surgery?
“Two weeks?” he croaked. “What happened?”
Zack glanced at him, then reached on the nightstand to pick up a glass filled with water. He pressed it to Leslie’s mouth. Leslie tentatively took a sip.
“Thanks,” he said.
“No problem. Want some more?”
Leslie shook his head. Zack snorted. “Tell me later if you need more. You know,” he added conversationally, “this could happen only to you. You were four years with the rodeo, and the most you got was a sprained wrist and a concussion. You leave the rodeo and end up in the hospital with a really impressive list of injuries. We can compare them later.”
“What happened?”
Zack sat back in the chair and crossed his legs. “A car accident. That’s what they told me, anyway.”
“A car accident?”
“Don’t you remember?”
Leslie had to think about it. “Not really.”
Zack didn’t seem concerned. “Well, it’s to be expected. You got a mighty bump on your head. The doc can explain it to you later. He explained it to me, but I didn’t get half of it.”
Leslie touched his head. He’d figured it was bandaged because the nurse fussed about it. It felt weird under his fingers.
“A bump on the head. Feels like that, too,” Leslie murmured.
“You’ll live,” Zack said.
Leslie frowned at him. “Zack. It’s not that I’m not grateful, but why are you here?” He and Zack still talked occasionally over the phone, but they hadn’t seen each other for some time. They used to be tight when they were both following the rodeo. It was more practical to have someone to split expenses with. Zack was dedicated to making a career in the rodeo. Leslie was in it for money, but they both were focused on their goal, and a natural bond formed between them.
“Don’t you remember? I’m still down as your next of kin. They called me after they sorted through your papers. You’re lucky I was here in town at the moment. It took me only an hour to come.”
Oh. That’s right. He and Zack had signed papers for each other when they traveled together. It made sense then. As far as he knew, Zack had changed his documentation when he left, but Leslie never bothered with it.
“Huh,” he said. “Go figure. I totally forgot about that.”
“Like I said, only you could wait seven years after leaving the rodeo to end up in the hospital.” Zack sounded cheerful.
“You’re really a comforting soul, Warren.” He remembered this about Zack, a natural easiness around people.
“Hey, give me a break, Kilmer. I spent the whole night in this chair waiting for you to open your eyes. Don’t you have even an ounce of gratitude?”
“Still not very comforting.” Leslie closed his eyes. He was absurdly grateful for Zack’s presence. Why didn’t they keep in closer touch?
“Think your boyfriend is about the same opinion, Kilmer.”
Leslie’s eyes snapped open. Oh shit. Ash!
That was why he and Zack had lost touch. He had had to lie about Ash.
“My…boyfriend?” he repeated in a weak voice. He was trying to buy some time. He had never said anything to Zack about his orientation. While he was in the rodeo, he and Ash were broken up, so it wasn’t precisely a lie. He’d never been really interested in anyone else, still hurting after the way Ash left him. The furtive liaisons he had in that time were easy to hide. He gave Zack a cautious look. He honestly didn’t think his old friend would have a problem with him being gay. Still, he would rather not risk it.
Zack was smirking in his chair. “Yeah, Kilmer, your boyfriend. A black-haired guy who got really annoyed when the doctors refused to tell him anything about your condition. Patient confidentiality and all that.”
Zack narrowed his eyes at him. “Come to think about it, wasn’t he the one who came to visit you, right before you left the rodeo?” He snapped his fingers. “That’s right. He was the one who told you your uncle was selling the ranch.”
“He was…angry?”
Leslie knew very well how Ash dealt with things out of his control. Angry would be understatement.
“He informed me loud and clear that you were his lover and that I could just leave everything to him. Pushy one, even if he is hot. Congratulations on that, by the way, but he’s got a temper.” Zack paused, clearly remembering. “I think he wanted to scare me into leaving.”
Leslie’s mind was spinning.
“Ash said that?”
Zack shrugged. “It was a lot longer, and he was seriously displeased, but that would be the gist of the thing. I wasn’t the only one who heard it, either.”
“What did you…tell him?” He wondered where Ash was. He was curious as to the outcome of that battle of wills. Ash was used to being obeyed, but Zack was bullheaded. He used to joke that was what made him good bull rider. He was more stubborn than the animals he rode.
“Why, the complete truth. I told him you never mentioned him, I had no clue who he was, and that he’d have to wait until you woke up to hear how you are.”
Oh shit. He would have to deal with Ash in that mood? Something of what he was thinking must have showed on his face, because Zack laughed. “Don’t worry. I talked to him, and he’s been to see you. I expect he’ll be here shortly to kick me out. I texted him while I was outside. Though he is probably going to be annoyed at me for you waking up while I was here, and he wasn’t.” Zack actually sounded pleased at the prospect.
Leslie frowned, trying to gauge his real mood. Zack gave him a guileful glance. “What?”
“You don’t sound upset,” he said finally. Come to think of it…Zack said Ash was hot?
“About Foster? It was actually amusing.”
“No, not about that. Well, about that, but.” Leslie gave up. “I meant, about me. About me and him,” he clarified. His face grew hot. He realized he’d never called Ash his lover in front of anyone else before.
“Because you happen to sleep with him?” Zack studied him carefully. “That would be pretty hypocritical of me, not to mention it would annoy my boyfriend.” Whoa, wait. What did he say?
“Did you say boyfriend?”
Zack smiled a little self-consciously. “Sounds really juvenile when you say it like that, doesn’t it? A boyfriend. Like I’m a teenage girl. What do you call Asher?”
“Ash,” Leslie answered shortly.
“I meant, partner, lover, whatever. How do you handle that?”
“We don’t…tell people about it.”
Ash had to tell his family. Leslie had no idea how he’d handled it.
Zack frowned. “No one? You mean you are not out?”
“Sort of. It’s complicated. Don’t change the subject. Since when do you have a boyfriend? I didn’t have a clue you swung that way.”
“It’s not like I planned it,” Zack said sullenly. “It was sort of a surprise to me, too.”
“I take it was a good surprise?”
“The best.” Zack got a sappy look. “He is back at our place. I’m going to introduce you sometime.”
“I’d like that.” Leslie shifted in his bed. “What’s his name?”
“Brett Miller.”
Leslie stared at him. He knew that name. And come to think of it, Brett’s ranch, Four Winds, was close to Zack’s parents’ place. How come he never connected that?
“I know Brett,” he said. “He and I met…I think it was three years ago, at some cattle sale.”
“Oh.” Zack’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. How well do you know him?”
Someone had it bad. “Geez, relax. It wasn’t like that. We are friendly. We did some business together.”
“Oh.” Zack visibly r
elaxed again. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.
“I could use some more of that water,” Leslie said pointedly. Zack stood up.
“So, what’s the story?”
Leslie finished drinking and looked up at him. “What story?”
“You and Ash.”
“Ah. That.” Leslie suddenly felt very tired. He closed his eyes. “It’s a long one.”
Leslie was pulling his clothes out of his bag, looking around the room as he did so. It was better than some. It was meticulously clean, and it was even decent sized, the two beds flanking each end of the room. It was a nice little town, too. Freshly showered, Leslie felt human again. The adrenaline in his blood was fading. He was startled to discover that warm feeling surrounding him was happiness. Then again, the competition went well. Leslie mentally counted the amount in his bank account. It was slow and torturous doing, but he was a couple hundred closer to his dream. He smiled self-deprecatingly. It wasn’t like he had something to spend money on. Or someone. Unbidden, Ash’s image rose in his mind. A cold fist squeezed his chest. It was almost four years, and the hollow feeling hadn’t dissipated yet. Resolutely, he steered away from the subject. He looked up as his friend and roommate, Zack, left the bathroom. He toweled his hair briskly, then started pawing through his clothes. He was practically bouncing from excitement. He pulled the shirt over his head. Leslie watched his muscled torso disappear under the thin material of his shirt. Zack was a handsome guy. Still, Leslie couldn’t work up even a spark of interest. No one interested him since Ash.
“Want to get out?” Zack offered. “We both ranked nicely. It deserves a celebration.”
True. They were both proceeding into the next level of competition. Leslie knew without a doubt that Zack would place better than he. He was better than Leslie. Leslie didn’t envy him. This was Zack’s dream. He deserved to be better. For Leslie, it was just a means to an end.
“Leslie!”
Leslie jerked at the sound of his friend’s annoyed voice.