Unconventional

by Krista Wolf

  To my surprise Noah blushed; actually turning a bright, beet red. It was something I thought I’d never see.

  “And you stood up for me back there,” I finished, “when no one else would.” I paused for a moment, staring out at the landscape. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that. For so long now, I’ve been… alone.”

  For another half minute or so we drove on in near-silence. The only noise was the sound of wheels crunching gravel.

  “You know we really should be getting back,” he reasoned. “The others—”

  “Can wait an extra ten or fifteen minutes,” I said coyly, squeezing his thigh. “That is… if your little bed can handle it.”

  Noah stared back at me, his mouth turning up in a saucy grin. The look in his eyes told me he was in.

  “If it can’t, I’ll do you right on the floor.”

  “Ohhh…” I teased. “Sounds dirty.”

  “Filthy, actually.”

  “Even better.”

  His palm closed over the back of my hand, his fingers interlacing themselves with mine. I felt happy, despite the added pressure. Deadline and renovation problems aside, everything with the guys was so amazingly good right now.

  The road became dirt, and the vehicle slowed even more. Noah pulled into a flat, circular area piled with a long streak of dark garbage and debris. I saw a few pieces of outdoor furniture. A propane tank, and some sort of electrical hookup…

  His face became grim as the truck rolled to a stop.

  “What?” I asked, after a moment of silence. “What is it?”

  Noah’s expression said it all. A cold shiver ran through me, before he even uttered the words.

  “We’re here,” he managed.

  He flung the door open, and jumped down. I followed suit, and met him in front of the garbage pile… which wasn’t really garbage at all.

  “Oh…” I wrinkled my nose as a sharp, acrid smell reached my nostrils. “Oh Noah…”

  My lover stood at the edge of the blacked debris, which was looking more and more like what it actually resembled: the smoldering remnants of what once was a trailer.

  “Oh honey, I’m sorry.”

  I went to take his hand, but it was impossible. And that’s because both my lover’s hands were curled into tight, white-knuckled fists.

  “No. Don’t be,” he grunted, trying to choke back whatever emotions he actually felt. His eyes were cold now. His jaw, clenched tight enough to shatter teeth.

  “Instead, be sorry for the man who did this.”

  Forty-Three

  MADISON

  “Everything?” Chase exclaimed. “You mean all of it? It’s all gone?”

  “Yes,” said Noah.

  “When?”

  “I’m not sure. But sometime last night.”

  Noah’s last few words made me feel unexpectedly guilty. Last night the guys had stayed over — all three of them at once. After being out in the sun all day, we’d just all fallen dead asleep.

  It had been amazing too, just cuddling. Snuggling up against one lover and then another, snoring the night away while lying lazily in their arms.

  And now…

  Now their lack of vigilance had cost them their trailer. And not just that, but everything inside it. All their possessions — everything they ever owned. Noah and Chase had nothing but the tools they’d left here on the grounds, and the clothes on their backs.

  “Tell me more about this… Killian,” said Julian. He crossed two big tattooed forearms before setting them down on the table. “And start from the beginning.”

  Noah looked at Chase for a moment, then started in on the whole sordid tale. It was one I’d heard already, during the ride back. He’d told me everything, from Chase’s gambling problem to the significant debt he still had with Killian, the owner of the Normandy Inn.

  “So this guy was your bookie?” asked Julian.

  “Yeah,” Chase admitted sullenly.

  “For how long?”

  “Too long.”

  “And what do you owe him?”

  Chase shrugged uncomfortably. “Thirty two hundred or so.” He shook his head. “Maybe closer to thirty five, now. It keeps changing, keeps going up.”

  “The vig.”

  “Yeah.”

  I knew a little about gambling. I’d had a boyfriend from Laguna who’d gotten into some trouble over a few poker games, and got in way over his head. He bragged about how his rich father bailed him out though. That part was wholly unattractive.

  “What did he say the last time you went to see him?” asked Julian. He pointed to Chase’s eye.

  “I didn’t get to see him. His guys dealt with me first.”

  “How many?”

  I saw Chase and Noah look at each other again. Noah shook his head.

  “Too many to really—”

  “How many?” Julian asked again.

  Chase sighed. “Gotta be six or eight. Barclay, Davie, Lamont…”

  “Jamie,” added Noah. “Then there’s Daniel. Bryce…”

  “When is this guy there?” asked Julian. “Usually?”

  “Whoa, whoa,” I stepped in. “I don’t like where this is going.”

  Julian shifted in his chair. “Do you have the money to bail him out of this?”

  “No,” I said sullenly. “You know I don’t.”

  “Then this is going where it needs to,” Julian answered.

  “But—”

  “This isn’t the kind of asshole who can be reasoned with,” Julian said, looking me straight in the eye. “What kind of irrational fucking lunatic burns down someone’s house in the dead of night, over a three thousand pound debt?”

  I didn’t have an answer for that. Noah stepped in and answered for me.

  “The same stupid dumbass who doesn’t realize you can’t get blood from a stone,” he said. “Or money from someone who, up until now, was working and paying you off… but who’s suddenly homeless.”

  The last phrase sunk in, the words registering in my mind. And then all at once it hit me.

  This is all your fault.

  Chase had been paying off his debt. Or at the very least, he was making payments on the interest — enough to keep this guy Killian off his back. And then I ran out of money. I stopped paying him. And now…

  Now he was homeless. Penniless.

  Holy fuck.

  I sank deeper into my chair, feeling lower than ever before. Here I was, accepting charity from people who couldn’t even afford to give it. From guys so self-sacrificing, they were willing to risk their very lives to finish the work they’d started here, rather than go out and take another paying job.

  “You’re both staying here,” I said abruptly, turning toward Noah and Chase. “This is your home now, obviously. For as long as you want or need. Until you get another place, or—”

  “Thanks princess, but—”

  “No, STOP.” I stood up, fists clenched. I was suddenly very angry, and all of the anger was directed at myself. “This isn’t debatable,” I said sternly. “I have a castle here. Sixteen chambers in the keep alone. I’m making up bedrooms for the both of you, immediately.”

  “That’s not really—”

  “THIS IS ALL MY FAULT!” I shouted, my voice echoing off the stone walls. “I did this, by not paying you! By keeping you here, and letting you work for free.”

  The guys shook their heads slowly, but I wasn’t having it.

  “I’ve been selfish!” I went on. “Totally blind. I accepted your charity, not even realizing you have needs of your own. Not even thinking that—”

  A hand took mine. I looked down, and saw it belonged to Chase.

  “I did this,” he said gently. “Not you. Not Noah. Not anyone else. I screwed up. I was the one running my mouth, making bets with money I didn’t have.” He shook his head sternly. “If anyone’s to blame here, it’s me.”

  Now Julian rose too. He walked over and stood beside me.

  “We can fix this,” he said
calmly. “I know a way.”

  My body was so stiff and rigid I felt like I might shatter into a thousand pieces. But my lover’s last statement relaxed me, even the smallest bit, like a tiny ray of hope.

  “We’re going to need some money,” Julian admitted. “And… something else. I’ll take care of the second part. Maybe you guys can scrape up the first?”

  Noah eventually nodded. So did Chase.

  “We’ll do what we can.”

  “No,” said Julian pointedly. “Do even better than that. Make it happen.”

  The guys nodded again, then turned to look at me. Before they could say anything, I whirled on them.

  “You’re staying here,” I demanded loudly. “Bedrooms, for each of you. It’s not even a question. It’s totally happening.”

  Noah and Chase shared another look, but this one was an easy one.

  “Okay,” Chase said humbly. “Thank you.”

  “It’s probably best anyway,” added Noah. “Considering everything that’s going on. But yeah. We definitely apprecia—”

  “Don’t even thank me,” I cut him off. “I only wish I could do more.”

  A silence settled over the kitchen. It was eventually broken by the sound of clinking glass, as Julian pulled a fresh round of beers from the fridge.

  “Good,” he said, handing them out. I noticed he didn’t keep one for himself. “Now that this is settled, I’ve got some things I need to take care of.”

  He turned and walked away, leaving the three of us standing there in the middle of the kitchen. When we still hadn’t moved, Julian stopped and glanced back at us.

  “Get busy planning already,” he ordered, pointing down at the table. “You have some money to raise, and not a lot of time.”

  Forty-Four

  CHASE

  Her hand felt good in mine, soft and perfect, like it was meant to be there. Every part of her was soft and perfect, come to think of it.

  “And you never come out here?” I asked, leading the way. “Not even just to see the animals?”

  Madison shrugged, ducking beneath a low-hanging pine bough. “He usually comes to me. Only he… forgets sometimes.”

  “Yeah,” I laughed. “That’s Nolan alright. But to go two months without collecting rent? That’s crazy. Especially when you’re short on money.”

  Over breakfast, we’d spent a good hour or so brainstorming ways to drum up money. One of them — collecting unpaid rent from the old stable-owner — was a total no-brainer.

  Only Madison had balked. She felt bad about going out to that part of her property, and flat out asking the man for money. She was just too nice. A terrible, terrible landlord. So when I offered to go with her? She was more than willing.

  “About your uncle’s stuff…” I said for the third time.

  “We’re selling it,” she reiterated. “Or rather, I’m selling it. It’s my choice. It’s my stuff.”

  That was the other idea Madison had come up with: selling off some of Travis’s worldly possessions. Most of them were packed in old travel trunks with those colorful stickers still on them, that told you which cities and countries you’d visited. She’d stored them carefully after his death, and hadn’t looked at them since.

  “But I know there’s stuff in there,” she’d admitted, dragging her toast through a runny egg. “Good stuff, too. Most were gifts given to my uncle, by people important to him. Things collected from all the different places he lived at one time or another.”

  I wasn’t exactly crazy about the idea of Madison selling off her uncle’s legacy, but it sounded promising. And as she pointed out, it was certainly better than having it sit there doing nothing while the county took back the property Travis had worked so hard to maintain.

  “Besides,” she said at the end. “Selling off his things to save this place? It would be exactly what my uncle would want.”

  That part would come later, if at all. For now at least, we only had to deal with… Nolan.

  Oh boy.

  He was a good, kind old man with a warm, genuine smile. But he was hard of hearing. And hard of talking. And most times, a little hard of understanding too.

  “You ever actually talk with him?” I asked.

  “My uncle?”

  “No silly,” I laughed. “Nolan.”

  “Oh,” Madison giggled, and her laugh was musical. “No, not really. He’s sort of a… strange character. Isn’t he?”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “I mean, once he offered to take me riding,” she said. “But I’ve never been. Which is stupid I guess, because I’ve been surfing and skiing and snowboarding, I’ve gone cliff-diving, and yet somehow…”

  “You’ve never gotten on a horse.”

  “No.”

  The path opened up, and the stables finally came into view. The place was absolutely gorgeous. A picturesque landscape of rolling green hills, white painted fences, and an array of beautiful horses grazing lazily in distant fields. It was always astounding to me, how big the property actually was.

  “You can’t subdivide this place?” I asked. “If you sold off even a few acres, it could solve all of your money problems.”

  “Can’t do it,” Madison said, shaking her head. “Until I fully own the property, I can’t even apply for something like that.”

  We walked straight up to the big timbered structure together, and through the yawning opening. Madison didn’t even take her hand from mine. It was one of the things I liked most about her, how unapologetic she was when it came to what she wanted.

  “Ah, Chase!”

  A man rose from a chair in the scant shadows; short, bent, and wizened. Nolan approached with his usual limp, moving so fast he was practically dragging his cane behind him. I waited patiently for him, then embraced him in a full-blown hug.

  “How’ve you been, son?”

  “Pretty good old man,” I grinned. “And you?”

  He shrugged and patted me on the shoulder. “Foot still hurts like I kicked a porcupine in the balls, but that’s what happens,” he grumbled amiably. “Don’t get old, son. No matter what they tell you, it’s…”

  It wasn’t until the middle of his sentence that he noticed Madison. His eyes went wide, and his grin even wider.

  “Lassie!”

  She extended her hand awkwardly, but it was already too late — Nolan had swept her into his arms and was hugging her too. And probably a bit longer than usual, if I wasn’t mistaken.

  “What brings you out here, on today of all days?” he squinted, trying to stand up straighter than his bent back would allow. He took his hat off and started fanning himself. “It’s so damned hot you could fry an egg in the shade.”

  “Maybe she’s taking you up on that ride,” I teased. “Right?”

  Madison looked like a little doe caught in a pair of headlights. It was cute.

  “Actually…” I said, clamping a hand on the old man’s shoulder. “You’re a little behind on the rent.”

  “The rent?” he blinked. “Behind?”

  “Yup. Two months back.”

  Nolan went silent for a moment, then scratched at the back of his head. He had more hair than most men in their twenties. All of it was long and wild and stark white.

  “O—Oh, wow,” he stammered finally. “Sorry about that, lassie! I just—”

  “You’re so old you forgot what month it is?” I joked. “Or maybe what year we’re in?”

  Nolan elbowed me unapologetically, and surprisingly hard for an old man. “You mind your manners, boy.” He was already turning red though. “H—How much did you say?”

  “Two months,” Madison said meekly. “This one and the last.”

  He nodded vigorously and swing his cane in a different direction. “Come with me.”

  A minute later we were in the front office, and Nolan was spinning the dial on an ancient-looking safe. The thing had to weigh a thousand pounds.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, apologetically. “I g
uess the kid’s right — I sort of did let the weeks and months get away from me.”

  Three times he tried opening the safe. Three times he failed. Madison shot me a concerned look, but all I could do was shrug.

  “Bah!” Nolan spat finally. He rubbed at his eyes. “Go ahead, son. You do it.”

  Madison looked a little surprised as I bent and spun the dial, opening the safe quickly and easily. The old man had given me the combination months ago. I’d opened it for him a half-dozen times since then.

  “You know,” I said, stepping back. “It might help her out if you gave her next month’s rent in advance, too.”

  “Next month?” Nolan repeated.

  “Sure. You do plan on making it to next month, right?”

  The old man half-snarled, half-grinned at my joke. “Might as well,” he eventually chuckled. “Saves you both the trip down here.”

  He counted out a thick stack of purple notes, then handed them over. “Here lass,” he said. “Sorry again about—”

  “You have no reason to be sorry,” Madison smiled. She leaned in and hugged him gratefully. “And thank you for paying next month early.”

  “I’d pay every month early just to see your pretty face,” smirked Nolan. He swung the safe closed, turned back at me and laughed. “You…” he poked the cane in my direction. “Not so much.”

  Forty-Five

  MADISON

  We weren’t far from Nolan’s place when we encountered his stablehand. The man was on the younger side of his thirties, tall and lanky with sandy blond hair. He was tanned almost to the point of being brown, or maybe he was just covered in dirt — I really couldn’t tell.

  He was working a nearby field, swinging a weed-whacker back and forth in long, sweeping arcs through the tall grass. Only it was strange, because there was no buzzing, no motor. Actually, there was no sound at all.

  The closer we got, the more we realized we were probably sneaking up on him. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t reacting. When finally Chase tapped the man on his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin.