by K. C. Wells
“Are you always this bossy?”
She grinned. “Always, so suck it up.” Joshua walked into the living room to hand her a mug, and she sighed contentedly. “This is my reward too.” Fran peered at Greg. “So what are you doing with the rest of your day?”
“Gee, I thought I might go for a run around the yard,” he retorted. Joshua rolled his eyes as he handed Greg his mug.
“Sassy. I like that.” Fran beamed. “Whereas I am going to the Home Depot to pick up a Christmas tree.” She was almost buzzing. “Even if my dumbass boyfriend thinks it’s too damn early. I told him this morning, today is December first, so I’m officially allowed to put up a tree. Hell, it’s not like we haven’t had the Festival of Lights since mid-November. I’m just catching up.”
“Festival of Lights? What’s that?”
Fran gaped. “How can you not know about that?”
Joshua coughed. “Maybe because he was in the hospital November tenth to the eighteenth, and since then he hasn’t left this house. He hasn’t had the opportunity to go to Gillette.” He turned to Greg. “Gillette has had a festival of Lights for the past eleven years. There’s a park over on Doubletree Lane that puts together displays, stuff like the Twelve Days of Christmas, Santa’s Workshop, Penguins on Ice, a Nativity scene, and a whole lot more.”
“They use over one million lights,” Fran added, “and some of the displays are over fifty feet tall.” She stared at Greg. “You gotta see it. Maybe Mr. Trant will take you.”
“Thank you for that suggestion. I’ll consider it.” Joshua regarded her with arched eyebrows.
Greg wasn’t all that surprised by Joshua’s response, not after what Micah had told him. Christmas wasn’t ever going to be the same for his family, understandably.
Fran waited until Joshua had left the room, before speaking in a low voice. “Maybe there’s someone else who might wanna take you to see the lights.” Her eyes sparkled.
Greg shook his head, chuckling. “You don’t give up, do you?” Not that the idea didn’t appeal to him. Micah, a million Christmas lights twinkling against a black sky, snow… He sighed inwardly. Just because he wanted it to happen didn’t mean it was going to. In the week since Thanksgiving, Greg had slowly become aware of something.
He was crushing on Micah.
It had started with little things, like the way Micah smiled. One look at that smile, and warmth spread through Greg, a languid heat that crawled through every part of him. And then there were the little touches that seemed more prevalent; a hand on Greg’s back: the way Micah would touch him on the arm or the hand while they were talking: and the way Micah would rub his shoulders when he knew Greg’s leg was aching.
Of course, they might mean nothing. For all Greg knew, this was how Micah was, and Greg was simply becoming used to his manner. But that didn’t stop him hoping. Greg asked himself countless times if his burgeoning attraction to Micah was because he knew Micah was gay, or if he’d have been attracted to Micah while knowing nothing of his sexuality. The conclusion he arrived at was always the same—it was Micah, pure and simple.
Not that Greg was going to act on his crush. Once his leg was healed, that would be him out of Wyoming and back to California, or wherever he ended up. Right then he was a guest in Micah’s home, and Greg wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that situation.
“Greg?”
He gave a start. “Sorry. Guess I zoned for a second there.”
“A second?” Fran snickered. “I’ve finished my hot chocolate and I’m ready to leave. You were off in your own little world.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Hope you were sharing it with someone hot.”
“Goodbye, Fran.” Greg smiled. “See you next week. And I hope you find the perfect tree.”
Fran laughed. “Well, I guess that’s me given my marching orders.” She ruffled his hair. “So long. Don’t tire that leg.” She walked out of the living room, and Greg heard muffled conversation. Joshua entered the room.
“How did it go? Is it getting any easier?”
Greg sighed. “Not so much that I’ve noticed.”
In Joshua’s hand was a glass of water and his capsules. “I thought you might need these.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” His leg was just starting to ache again. He took one capsule, chasing it with water. “Is Micah still in his studio?”
Joshua nodded. “He’s been working on that snowscape for a week now. He says it’s almost finished.”
It seemed like the perfect opportunity. “Have you got a minute?”
“Why, what’s up?” Joshua sat beside him on the couch. “Is everything all right?”
“Do you think you could talk about my dad?” It was three weeks to the day since Micah had found him, and Joshua still hadn’t done as he’d promised. Greg didn’t want to pry—he just wanted to know a little more about his dad when he was younger.
Joshua regarded him in silence for a moment. “I was going to go into my office and work for a while.”
Greg waved a hand, although his heart sank. “That’s okay. I know you have work to do.” Joshua was a software designer, and worked from home.
Joshua nodded slowly. “But I guess it’s time we talked.” He leaned back against the seat cushions. “What do you wanna know?”
Greg smiled. “Whatever you want to tell me. I only got to know him these last couple of years, and there’s so much I don’t know. Could you tell me how you met? What he was like?”
A slow smile spread across Joshua’s face. “I could do that.” He clasped his hands in his lap. “He used to hide my toy cars, you know.”
“Really?”
Joshua laughed. “Yeah, the little shit. We’d be playing in my room, and I’d go to the bathroom, only to return and find he’d hidden all my cars. Then he’d start counting, seeing how long it would take me to find them all.”
“How old were you two then?”
“Seven or eight, I think. We used to play hide and go seek in the Talladega Forest, and we’d ride our bikes along the trails too. There was always an element of danger too. We knew there were coyotes and black bears in the forest.”
Greg stared. “Did you ever see them?”
Joshua nodded. “We built ourselves a hideout. It was only an old sheet that we covered with branches and leaves, then we’d crawl under it, and wait. Some days we’d lie there for hours, and all we’d see were squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, even turkeys. Once, we even saw a white-tailed deer.” His face lit up. “God, it was such a beautiful, graceful creature. And then finally, we saw a bear. Lord, it was big. I don’t think either of us dared breathe as it lumbered within a few feet of us.”
“Sounds like you used to have fun.” Greg hadn’t had close friends when he was growing up. He’d been more of a loner. Come to think of it, things hadn’t changed much while he was at college either.
“We sure did.”
Greg sat spellbound as Joshua told story after story of their exploits. He got the impression that his dad had been a loyal friend, there for Joshua when he needed him. After he’d listened for a while, Greg got up the courage to ask something a little more personal.
“When did you know you loved him?”
Joshua stilled, then relaxed against the cushions once more. “I think I was fifteen when I first realized I was attracted to him. There had been a couple of girls in high school who I’d been interested in, but Hayden? There was something about him that… pulled me, I suppose, is a good way of putting it. I loved spending time with him. We’d talk for hours, about anything that entered our heads. Anyhow, there was a school dance before summer vacation. We’d just finished eleventh grade. I’d taken Betty Edwards, but Hayden had gone alone. Turned out, Betty was more interested in getting off with Declan Ridault than dancing with me.” He chuckled. “Not that I really minded. I spent most of the evening sitting with Hayden, drinking soda and talking as usual. Except that night? You know what I really wanted to do, only I didn’t dare?”
Greg s
miled. “Dance with him?”
Joshua nodded. “Only, two guys dancing? In Alabama? Hell, no. I wasn’t dumb enough to even suggest it. Anyway, at eight o’clock when the dance was over, a whole bunch of us went over to Pete’s Smokehouse. It was a diner that played decent music. We had a great time, only I ate too much. Their BBQ pulled pork was to die for.” He sighed. “When the joint closed at nine-thirty, we all left. Most people got their parents to collect them, but Hayden suggested we walk home. It was only a couple of miles.” He smiled. “I wasn’t gonna say no to that. A stroll in the moonlight? That was romantic.”
“What happened?”
“We set off walking along 231, until we reached Imerys-Gantt’s quarry, where there was an observation point. We’d been there on a field trip from school, to look at the marble. Hayden and I walked along the path that ran around the little man-made lake. He’d brought along a pocket flashlight, so I began thinking he’d planned this.” Joshua had a faraway look in his eyes. “It was a beautiful night. The moon was full, and it was shining on the surface of the still water. I think I knew then what was coming.”
Greg had a feeling he knew too.
“My heart was pounding so hard, I was sure he’d hear it. I kept wondering what he was gonna say, because he just…stared at me, like he’d never seen me before. And then… he kissed me.” Joshua’s face took on such an expression of wonder that Greg’s chest tightened. “It wasn’t what I expected. He was so… gentle. Not how I thought a guy would kiss, ya know?”
Greg swallowed. “No, I don’t, as a matter of fact.” He gave a half smile. “Never been kissed, at least, not by a guy.”
Joshua’s eyes widened. Then he nodded sagely. “Your time will come. Just make sure it’s with someone you really care for. Kisses like that are too precious to waste on just anyone.” He chuckled. “Me and your dad sure shared a lot of kisses. That whole summer, I swear we were kissing every chance we got. Of course, the moment arrived when we knew we wanted… more.” The skin around Joshua’s mouth tightened, and Greg stiffened.
“What happened?”
“We had it all worked out. I was going to his place so we could study for a test. His parents were gonna visit some friends. We’d talked about nothing else for a couple of weeks. I was so nervous, my palms got clammy just thinking about it. Neither of us had… you know. And as it turned out, we didn’t get the chance. His parents came home early.”
“I think I know the rest.”
“Yep, you do.” Joshua sighed heavily. “I’m sorry things worked out the way they did. That letter… to know he’d been so close. God, to have just seen him one more time….” Then Greg’s breathing hitched when Joshua shifted across the couch and hugged him. “Thank you,” he murmured against Greg’s hair. “At least I finally know that he never forgot me, just like I never forgot him.”
Greg breathed in Joshua’s warm, comforting scent. “I’m glad I decided to deliver it in person. I feel like I’ve gotten to know him a little better.”
How long they sat like that, Greg had no idea. They pulled apart when Micah cleared his throat from the doorway. “Am I… interrupting?”
Joshua smiled. “No, I think we’re about done.” He peered at Greg. “Wouldn’t you say?”
He nodded. “We’re done.” Then he turned to Micah. “You’re just in time to make lunch.” He grinned.
Micah snorted. “How long before you can get around without those crutches?”
“Not until after Christmas,” Joshua interjected. “So you’d best do as Greg says and make lunch.” He winked at Greg. “Besides, all you’ve been doing is painting.”
Micah’s jaw dropped. “All I’ve been—”
Joshua guffawed. “You should see your face. Sit down. I’ll make lunch. You just rest your… paintbrush.” And with that, he got up from the couch and walked out of the living room.
Greg couldn’t help laughing, and it wasn’t long before Micah was joining in. As he composed himself, it occurred to Greg that he cared a great deal for both men, but for very different reasons.
Chapter Twelve
“Naomi just emailed. She’ll be home this weekend for the holidays,” Dad said as he came into the living room where Micah and Greg were sitting on the couch, both reading.
Greg glanced up and smiled. “Great!”
Micah groaned. “Great. At least three weeks of aggravation.” Not that he meant a word of it. The verbal sparring between them had gotten more interesting since she’d begun college. And the thought of getting through Christmas without her was inconceivable.
Dad chuckled. “You love her and you know it.” He left the room.
Micah put down his book on photorealism. “Quick, while he’s not here… I’ve had an idea.”
Greg lowered his copy of Death In The Clouds and raised his eyebrows. “Did it hurt?” His lips twitched.
Micah rolled his eyes. “I swear, you’ve been taking lessons from Naomi behind my back. That girl could write a textbook on the subject: How to annoy Micah.”
Greg grinned. “Glad to know all my studying is paying off. What’s up?”
“I’ve been thinking. Maybe it’s time to bring a little Christmas back into this house. I’m not talking how it used to be. Hell, Mom put enough lights on this house for it to be seen from outer space. No, I’m thinking about a tree. It would be a start.”
“And you want my help.”
Micah had to admit, Greg was fast on the uptake. “Exactly. All you have to do is follow my lead, and then show some enthusiasm for the idea.”
Greg nodded slowly. “I can do that.”
“You bastard!”
Micah jumped up. “Dad? What’s wrong?” He ran to Dad’s office, to find him shaking a fist at his computer monitor. “Er, Dad?”
“Stupid thing just died on me!” Dad glared at it. “So now I have to go buy a new one.”
“Don’t you have an old monitor that you can use? Or maybe you can—”
“I know you’re trying to help,” Dad interjected, “but it’ll be a hell of a lot quicker in the long run if I just get in the truck and drive to Gillette.” He gave the monitor another glare. When the phone rang, it got a glare too. “Now what?”
Micah left him to it. He returned to the living room, where Greg looked up at him questioningly. “Hardware issues,” Micah explained. He sat down and picked up his book.
A couple of minutes later, Dad came back into the room and walked up to the couch.
“Greg, that was one of the detectives who interviewed you. He was calling to see how you were, and to ask if there was anything else you’d recalled about the… incident. I told him you’d call back if there was anything.”
Greg closed the book and placed it on the arm of the couch. “I told them everything.” His face took on that closed-off expression that Micah already knew so well.
“Sounds to me like they’re no closer to catching anyone,” Micah said quietly. “Not if they’re asking that.”
“I’d have to agree.” Dad sounded almost subdued. “Anyhow, I’d better go to Gillette. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” He left the room again, sighing.
Micah got up from the couch and wandered over to the window. He watched as Dad pulled the truck out of the driveway. “He really cares about you, ya know.” Micah could see why: there was something about Greg that got under your skin.
Under my skin, into my head and then into my heart. Micah wasn’t an idiot. He was well acquainted with that wonderful, glorious feeling of falling for someone. Of course, he’d never gotten past that to the stage where a particular someone took up permanent residence in said heart, but he lived in hope.
Then it struck him that Greg had gone very quiet. He turned to face the couch, and his gut clenched.
Greg had picked up his book once more. He was staring across the room at the fireplace, but Micah doubted he saw it. There was a distant look in his eyes, and his knuckles were white where he gripped the book tightly.
“Greg, what’s wrong?” Micah sat beside him on the couch.
Greg blinked, and met his gaze. “I lied to the police.” His voice cracked.
“What do you mean?” Cold spread through Micah.
“Well, I suppose it was more omission than lying, but the result is the same. I didn’t tell them everything.”
“But why on earth not?” Micah sprang to his feet. “Don’t you want the police to catch whoever did this? Greg… you. Nearly. Fucking. Died.” He raked his fingers across his scalp. “They left you in the middle of nowhere. If I hadn’t come along when I did, you—”
“I know! Don’t you think I know that?” Greg’s eyes were anguished. “I couldn’t tell them.”
“Why? Give me one reason why that makes sense.” Micah crouched beside him. “Please, Greg. I don’t understand.” He pried the book gently from Greg’s hands and then took one of them in his. “Tell me what happened?”
Greg’s breathing grew erratic, and all the color drained from his face. “I don’t even want to think about that night, let alone describe it. Ever since I came around in that hospital, I’ve tried to forget it, only… it won’t go away. Those pills may knock me out, but I don’t think I’ve slept a whole night through since I got here. That night keeps on playing over and over in my dreams. What makes it worse is that now and again, I’m scared that…” He shuddered out a breath. “What if… I wasn’t the only one they did this to?”
“Who? What were they like?” Micah squeezed his hand. “Please, Greg.”
“There… there were two of them.”
Micah nodded, his gaze locked on Greg’s face.
“I’d h-hitched a ride as far as Gillette,” Greg stammered out. “The truck driver dropped me at a place called Jake’s Tavern.”
“I know it. On Douglas Highway.” Micah stilled. “You were hitching?”
Greg nodded. “My plan was to find somewhere warm for the night, maybe a motel or a cheap hotel, and then continue on to Wright the next day. Only, I’d just spent four hours in a truck, and I wanted a drink. So… I went to the bar.” He drew in a couple of deep breaths.
