“Get clean for me,” Garland told him, crushing the cigarette out on the arm of the old rocking chair.
Avery undid his pants and slipped a leg out. “But, we were talking about the case.” He hopped and removed his other leg. He had beautiful, well-shaped legs. Garland enjoyed admiring them. Avery slid his drawers down those muscular legs. His long, slightly erect cock bobbed as he moved, poetry made flesh.
Garland tried to bring his mind back to the murders. “He was riding his horse the night he was killed.”
“The horse and the girl were both found at Clyde Henry’s ranch.”
“Clyde didn’t do it. That man upchucked his toenails when we found that girl.”
“I didn’t think Clyde did it. I was just orienting myself.” He put a foot in the washtub, then the other, then eased himself into the small space with the elegance of a cat.
“That Billy, what did you say his name was again?”
“Jenkins.”
“Thank you. Yes, Billy Jenkins. I hate to say it, but that description sounds just like our girl. Even the chickens.”
“Everyone has chickens. You have damn near twenty of them.” Water dripped into the washtub as Avery wrung out the washcloth.
“I should be washing your back.”
“You should be resting. I can get it.” He made an effort of showing Garland how he could get it himself. “You can wash it tomorrow. You should be better by then.”
“I’m feeling better now.” Avery’s words hit him. He strained to sound casual. “You’ll be here tomorrow?”
Avery’s blue eyes were dark in the candlelight. He stared at Garland without speaking. “Garland,” he said finally, whispering.
“Don’t. Don’t. I’m sorry I said anything.”
“I’ll be here.” He sounded defeated. “I don’t think I can abide another night by myself, knowing that you’re here.”
“I could go to your place sometimes.”
“No,” Avery sighed. “No, you have the kittens and the cow and horses…. I’ve got nothing. Carrots. Some tomatoes. But not even chickens. No living things running around depending on me to be there.” He used the washcloth to wash his hair.
Garland tried not to make too much of things. He wanted to believe Avery wanted to be with him, but he felt wary. After a silence, he said, “We should ask Lucinda if she knows Billy Jenkins. See what she thinks about him.”
“It wasn’t Billy Jenkins. He was kinda slow. He seemed genuinely scared that something had happened to Margaret. I don’t think he had enough going on to fake that. And, I don’t know. He seemed like a good man. Real polite. You would’ve liked him.”
“I do appreciate manners.”
Avery looked up from washing and stared into Garland’s eyes. “How long are you going to be like this?”
“I’ll stop.” He heaved a sigh, clasping his hands. “There’s no call for it. It ends now. I promise.”
Avery stood slowly, dripping water into the metal washtub. Fireflies floated in the black pasture behind his back. He looked beautiful, otherworldly. However long and painful the day had been, Avery was here now, and his naked beauty made Garland feel humbled and blessed. He started up from the rocking chair to take Avery into his arms.
Before he could make it, Avery, sleek and wet, was on him, kissing him back into the chair. “Now, where’s this liniment?”
Garland handed him the bottle from the side table. Avery poured some of the liquid in one hand and smoothed it across Garland’s left pectoral muscle. “Like that?” he asked. “Like rubbing down a horse?”
“Like rubbing down a horse.”
Avery used both hands and rubbed Garland’s entire chest in a deep, firm massage. “You feel so good. I love your muscles.” Garland closed his eyes, transported. Avery took his arm. “Come sit on the steps so I can get to you better.”
“Maybe that’s all the rubdown I need. I should take you now.”
Avery carefully grazed his battered abdomen with the liniment. “I shouldn’t rub your stomach muscles should I?”
Garland caught Avery by the back of the neck. “Let’s put the liniment up.”
“You ain’t the only rooster in this henhouse. Go sit on the steps. We’ll couple when I’m done with you and not before.”
Garland had been nursing an erection the whole time Avery had been bathing. He was growing increasingly frustrated, but he laughed. He liked that Avery wanted to take care of him. Relenting, he sat on the steps.
Avery sat on the porch behind him, fencing him on either side with his legs. “Let’s do your sides.” He smeared liniment from the waist of Garland’s drawers up to his armpits. The action made Garland wince. He hadn’t realized his sides had hurt until Avery rubbed them. “You all right?” Avery’s voice sounded small and worried.
“I’m finer than frog’s hair.”
Avery chuckled. He paused and Garland surmised he was pouring more liniment on his hand. He kneaded the back of Garland’s neck and worked his way down Garland’s long back. “You’re full of knots. No wonder you’re cranky.” But his voice was tender.
Garland closed his eyes. His thoughts swirled in a slow pool of molasses. “How are the girl and the doctor related?”
“They’re as different as daylight and dark.”
“You said you thought Billy Jenkins was in love with Margaret?”
“He didn’t say it, but I got a feeling. I could be wrong. He sure seemed smitten with her, though.”
“And the doctor had a black girlfriend and preferred a black whore.”
“That’s right.” Avery pushed his thumbs into Garland’s trapezius.
“What about the Klan? Maybe they killed them.”
“This doesn’t feel like the Klan. They’re cowards. They intimidate more than anything.”
“They ‘intimidated’ the hell out of me.”
Avery scoffed. “They didn’t kill you.”
“Because you showed up and started shooting.”
“I don’t think they would have killed you. They haven’t hurt the whore or Myrtle.”
“If they knew about Billy Jenkins, they’d probably kill him. It could be true love—and they’d say he raped Margaret just because he’s black and she’s white.”
“I don’t like the Klan any more than you do, but I don’t think they killed Doc and Margaret.” He kissed the back of Garland’s head. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Wash your hands. It stings if it gets inside you.”
Avery pumped some water and washed his hands. Garland watched him and knew that they wouldn’t be sleeping straight away, not if he had anything to say in the matter. When they got to the bedroom, he lit the sconces on either side of the bed. Avery squatted, naked, on the floor and played with the kittens. Garland took off his drawers to remind Avery that his boudoir held other amusements. His erection made Avery blush.
“I don’t want you to think that’s why I came here. I just wanted to see you and make you feel better. I—I can read to you.”
“Do I look like I want to be read to?”
“You look hurt.”
“I’m feeling better. Get on the bed.”
“Do you want to do what we did last night?” Avery sat on the bed.
“I need to be inside you.” He grabbed a pillow. “Lie down and put this under your bottom. On your back. I want to see your face.”
Avery looked at him with a touch of awe that unleashed a swarm of butterflies in Garland’s guts and made his cock jump. For all of his grit, the sheriff was still so innocent. Garland knelt and tongued Avery’s sweet hole. He grabbed Avery’s silken cock and squeezed the shaft. Avery moaned softly. Garland licked a drop of precum from the slit of Avery’s cock.
Garland stood with a snort and took the petroleum jelly from the night stand and applied a liberal amount to Avery’s hole. He stretched him slowly, taking time to massage his perineum and suck his gorgeous cock. He strained for patience. His baser elements wanted to ravage Avery raw
and senseless. But it was of utmost importance to him that Avery not be hurt or scared, so he took his time and savored his own frustration.
When Avery bucked his hips toward him, taking his three fingers deeper, Garland smiled. “I think you’re ready,” he told Avery.
“I’ve been ready,” Avery panted. “What are you waiting for?”
Garland entered him carefully, then lunged, plunging deep inside him. Avery lifted his ass wantonly, his cock waving like a flag. His body clung to Garland’s ecstatic cock as Garland pulled back. Releasing a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding, Garland sank root deep. Avery gasped.
It was only then, deep inside Avery’s heat and closeness, that he forgave Avery everything. All day, his wounded feelings had combined with his physical aches until all he could feel was hurt. Now, looking at Avery’s face—sculpted by candlelight and shadows, feeling his sinewy body, his passionate warmth—all of his feelings for the man bloomed like honeysuckle in the woods.
Avery was trying to shed years of self-loathing and crippling beliefs—and he was trying. Garland could tell he was trying. Garland stroked the trail of dark fur leading to the lush curls at Avery’s root as he took him in slow deep thrusts. He needed to be more understanding of Avery’s defensiveness. He needed to be gentle with his emotions.
The realizations, coupled with his own pent-up fervor, sped up Garland’s movements. Flickers of light—or something that felt like light—sparkled inside his body. He felt no pain. He plunged faster, holding tight to Avery’s legs. Avery’s eyes closed; his mouth gaped. Air rushed out of his lungs as Garland pumped him hard and fast.
Garland yanked Avery’s hard cock as he felt himself beginning to climax. Avery barely needed his touch. Gouts of cum erupted onto Garland’s hand. With one last hard thrust, Garland exploded inside him.
Garland pulled out of Avery carefully, wiping up the cum and juices with the shirt he had worn earlier that day. Avery, still propped up by pillows, rubbed around his navel. Leaning over him, Garland rubbed him, too. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know.” Avery laughed breathlessly. “That was a hard ride.”
“Get your butt off these pillows, and I’ll read to you and pet you for a while.”
In another minute, they were snug in bed together. Katydid, who had been bundling with the kittens in the drawer, hopped up on the foot of the bed, spun around three times, and curled into a fluffy ball. Garland scratched Avery’s bearded jaw and felt overcome with bliss. Presently, something pulled the sheet down on one side. The two kittens tumbled onto the bed.
Garland picked up an old poetry magazine from the nightstand. He flipped through the pages and read one aloud. “The Penitent, by Edna St. Vincent Millay.
I had a little Sorrow,
Born of a little Sin,
I found a room all damp with gloom
And shut us all within;
And, “Little Sorrow, weep,” said I,
“And, Little Sin, pray God to die,
And I upon the floor will lie
And think how bad I’ve been!”
Alas for pious planning—
It mattered not a wit!
As far as gloom went in that room
The lamp might have been lit!
My Little Sorrow would not weep,
My Little Sin would go to sleep—
To save my soul I could not keep
My graceless mind on it!
So up I got in anger,
And took a book I had,
And put a ribbon in my hair
To please a passing lad.
And, “One thing there’s no getting by—
I’ve been a wicked girl,” said I;
“But if I can’t be sorry, why,
I might as well be glad!””
Avery traced around a bruise on Garland’s stomach with his nail. “I’m beginning to feel like that. I can’t be sorry for loving you. If this is a sin—then I guess it’s a sin and there’s nothing I can do but throw myself at God’s mercy. In the meantime, I’ll make the best of it.”
“I don’t see how it’s a sin. We love each other. How can that be wrong?”
“I don’t know.” Avery leaned his head against Garland’s shoulder. “Read some more.”
Garland read until Avery fell asleep, then he carefully climbed out of bed and blew out the sconces. His movements didn’t wake Avery, but they upset the kittens, who tottered around the bed for a while.
Avery’s snores shifted slightly as a kitten settled, with a loud purr, above his head. The other kitten curled up by Garland’s face. As sleep took Garland into its heavy arms, he felt he had glimpsed paradise that night and thanked God for giving him Avery to love.
***
Sunday, August 5, 1923
Sands’ Farm
Avery woke to the telephone ringing. It was still dark out. The bed bounced as Garland got out of it and disappeared. With a groan, Avery pulled himself partway up in the bed. He could hear Garland on the phone in the kitchen.
He got up, pulled the sheet around him, and stumbled into the kitchen. Naked as a jaybird, Garland stood in the kitchen talking on the phone. “How long has it been?” Avery could hear a man on the other end, but couldn’t make out what he said. He could, however, hear tension in the man’s voice. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Try not to worry. I’ll try to save both of them….Sounds good. Do me a favor and get a bucket of water for me….A pot of coffee would be greatly appreciated. See you soon.”
“Stuck calf,” Garland told Avery as he hung the receiver back on its hook. He gave Avery a peck on the cheek and hurried back to the bedroom.
Avery followed him. “It’s dark still.” He yawned.
Garland yanked on his clothes in a rush. “Calves seem to always come in the wee hours of the morning.” Dressed in drawers and overalls, much like he had been when Avery had first seen him, Garland grabbed the back of Avery’s head and gave him another quick kiss. “Wish me luck.”
“You’ll save both of them.”
“Thanks. I love you!” Garland ran out of the house.
Avery lay back in the bed. Garland’s side smelled like liniment. Avery rolled over and found himself assaulted by very awake kittens. He tried to calm them with pets and whispers. Lying in the dark in Garland’s bed, he missed Garland acutely. He fell back to sleep dreaming of calves, of kittens, and babies being born in the morning darkness.
Chapter Thirteen
Sands’ Farm
Avery was grateful he had his clothes on when Lucinda burst through the door. “Garland!” She stayed in the small parlor, calling Garland’s name.
Collecting himself, Avery rounded the corner. “He’s still gone. He left to help a cow calve. Wait, it’s Sunday. What are you doing here?”
She shook the newspaper at Avery. “Have you read this?”
“Is that from this morning?”
“It is.”
“No. I haven’t been out. I was just making coffee.”
Lucinda stared forlornly down the hall, as if she could make Garland appear just by wishing for him. “I thought I could catch him before church.”
Avery groaned. “Church.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I won’t be going to church anymore.”
Lucinda focused on him suddenly. “Why would you say something like that?”
“My pastor wears a hood at night. He was one of the maggots that beat up Garland.”
“Oh.” She didn’t seem to know what to say after that.
Avery cleared his throat. “Would you like some coffee? I don’t know when Garland will be back, but I’m hoping it’s soon.”
“I can stay a moment.” She smiled at him and followed him into the kitchen. She sat at the table and opened the paper while he got the cups and poured the thick coffee. He set her cup down, then sat down opposite her.
“So, what’s it say?” He blew on his cup.
“You’re not going to like it.”
&nb
sp; “Doesn’t much matter whether I do or don’t.”
“There’s a story in here about a young man I know, Billy Jenkins—”
“Yes, he came to see me yesterday to report a missing girl.”
“He must have gone to the paper after that.”
“Or that Eloise picked him off the court steps. She lays in wait there like a spider.”
“It’s a big story, Avery. There’s even a drawing of him. They’re saying the missing girl’s description is a match for the unidentified woman found in Crooked Creek.”
“Lemme see that.” There was a sketch of Billy with his big, earnest eyes. Avery held his head between his hands. He rubbed his hair, then looked at Lucinda. “You know him? What do you think of him?”
“He’s a little slow. But he doesn’t strike me as a liar. He always seems like a good man.”
“That was my impression, too. That’s even what I told Garland.”
“There’s another story questioning Obadiah Clark’s guilt. It’s somewhat critical of you and your police work. It mentions a woman was killed by one of your deputies.”
“That’s true; Burrell shot her,” said Avery. He shook his head in defeat. “I don’t believe Clark killed the doctor or Billy’s girl.”
Lucinda sipped her coffee. “What I don’t understand,” she said presently, “is why this girl’s family hasn’t reported her missing. Billy Jenkins can’t be the only one missing her, can he?”
They heard Garland belting Bringing in the Sheaves on the front porch. Lucinda grinned at Avery. “He saved them both.”
Garland burst in, still singing. He paused in the kitchen doorway. “What are you doing here, Lucinda? It’s Sunday!”
“I wanted to make sure you saw the paper.” She glanced at the clock over the telephone. “I really must leave, though.” She stood and pushed her chair in. “Avery can fill you in. I have to get ready for church. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Garland led her to the door and held it open for her. “Have a blessed Sunday!” He rounded on Avery as he shut the door. “I have to wash up. I’ll be late if I’m not careful!” He made a beeline for the back porch. Avery followed him with less enthusiasm.
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