Red Dirt Heart

by N. R. Walker

  “Ma!”

  “Out you go.”

  I sighed. “It’s not like that.”

  “It could be,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders, turning me around and pushing me out of the kitchen. “Now what exactly have you got to lose?”

  I snatched my hat off the hook and let the screen door slam behind me, hoping it would annoy Ma.

  It could be.

  What have I got to lose?

  Ugh. That was the last thing I needed right now.

  Billy saw me first. “Want me to go bring them horses in, boss?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Need a hand?”

  Billy grinned at me, his smile huge and contagious despite my mood. He really didn’t need anyone to help him; he and I both knew it. “If you want to, boss.”

  “I’ll help him,” Travis said. “I’m sure you’re busy enough.” He wasn’t really asking for permission. He was already walking into the shed, to get a saddle, no doubt.

  I liked that he was comfortable enough here to just jump right in. He fit in here. And I liked that more than I should.

  I left them to it and did a few hours in the office instead. I’d lost track of time and the sound of laughter finally grabbed my attention. Not just anyone’s laughter. A certain American’s laughter.

  I closed down my laptop and went to the front door. Travis, Billy and George were at the holding yard, and the three of them were laughing. I almost went out there, but instead stayed on the inside of the door, hidden. There was a lump of jealousy that he was laughing with them and not me, which was stupid. But there was also a heavy ache that felt a lot like loneliness.

  “Sweetheart,” Ma said softly, her hand on my shoulder. “What are you so afraid of?”

  “I’m not afraid,” I lied.

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t even know if he’s… if he’s…” I couldn’t even say it out loud.

  “If he’s gay?”

  I hung my head. “Ma.” I swallowed hard. “What if I say something… and what if he’s not… interested.”

  She smiled sadly. “What if he is?”

  I laughed at the absurdity of this whole fucking mess. I was in over my head, and he was oblivious. “It’s stupid,” I whispered.

  “You need to ask him,” Ma said. She patted my arm and left me looking out the door.

  Only I didn’t have to ask him at all.

  Later that night when I was in bed, almost asleep, I heard the shower start. Soon after, when the water had shut off, I heard the bathroom door open so I got up to see if everything was okay and ran into Travis in the hall.

  He was wearing nothing but a towel. I was wearing nothing but boxers.

  I stood there like a rabbit in a spotlight, and a slow smile spread across his face. His gaze raked over my body, I swear I could feel it – like his eyes were warm hands skimming over my skin.

  And there on his chest, right over his heart, was a single star. I knew what that symbol meant. “Is that a Texas star?” I asked, my voice cracking. I wanted him to say yes, hoped he’d say no.

  He looked at me for a long moment, probably weighing up how to answer, what to give away, I realised. Then he shook his head slowly and bit his lip. “Not exactly.”

  “Good.”

  Good. I fucking said good.

  “I um, I meant, good…” Because apparently saying once wasn’t bad enough, I fucking said it twice. And then because sheer mortification wasn’t bad enough, I palmed my dick. I was getting hard. I did it without thinking, just needing some friction.

  Travis’s gaze followed my hand, and he smiled that smug goddamn smirk, then he looked back to the bathroom. “Did you need to use the bathroom?”

  I shook my head. “No.” So apparently I was also down to one-syllable words. I turned back to my door, wanting to shrink and die.

  “Charlie,” Travis said. I stopped and when I finally turned to face him, he was holding his clothes in front of his crotch. He looked right at me and took a deep breath like he was going to say something else. Instead he said, “Good night.”

  I nodded and quickly shut the door behind me, finally breathing. I stood leaning against the door, and I swear I heard him mutter, “Well, that answered that question.”

  Fuck.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Willpower: 0 Wantpower: 1

  Don’t look at me like that. It’s been a while for me, okay?

  I hardly slept, tossing and turning all damn night, thinking of my encounter with Travis in the hall and how I’d face him in the morning.

  Going back to my original plan A, which was to avoid him at all costs, I was up and out of the house early, getting most of my morning chores done before breakfast.

  When Ma had hollered from the back door that if I didn’t come in to eat right this instant, I could go ahead and starve, I seriously weighed up my options.

  My stomach overruled my pride, and when I walked into the dining room, being the last one there, I took my seat and mumbled an apology for making them wait.

  I didn’t make eye contact with anyone, especially not the man sitting at my left. I could feel his gaze burning into me a few times from his seat barely a foot away, but I just kept my head down and ate my breakfast without a word. I know my mood usually put a damper on the rest of the table, so I grabbed a cup of tea on my way out and left them to it.

  My silence, and the fact I’d been banging and clanging around the shed an hour before the sun came up, was a pretty good warning to give me some space.

  A fact someone forgot to tell Travis. Either that or he ignored it, because a little while later he followed me into the shed.

  I was in the far corner, oiling saddles and bridles on the shelf along the back wall. He stood watching me for about a full minute while I pretended to ignore him. Eventually, it got the better of me. “Thought you were heading out with Billy today?”

  “I am,” he answered. “I have a suspicion that the boss is trying to get rid of me.”

  I stayed with my back to him and scrubbed the oiled cloth against the saddle harder. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah. Which’d be fine if I thought it was what he really wanted,” he said, his voice lower but closer, like he was just a few feet behind me now.

  My hands stilled and I half turned. “Maybe it is.”

  He took another step closer. “And maybe it’s not.” He took the oily rag from me. “I don’t think it is. I saw how he looked at me last night.”

  I swallowed hard. He was close enough that I could feel the heat from his body, and it was too close. Too heady and far too close. I took a step back and felt the shelf along the back wall press against my back.

  “What are you scared of?” he asked me.

  I couldn’t speak. I swallowed again and shook my head. “I’m… not…”

  He ignored my pathetic attempt at denying it. “I better go, or they’ll come looking for me,” he said. “Look”—he ran his hands through his hair—“Billy and I won’t be back ’til late, so you’ve got all day to think about it.”

  I was almost too scared to ask. “Think about what?”

  He stepped right in close and, leaning against me, pressed me into the shelf. His smell, his touch, the feel of him against me, the heat of his skin made it impossible to breathe.

  Travis ran his nose along my ear and ever so gently, he ghosted his lips over mine. It was an almost-kiss. A heart-stopping, knee-buckling kind of almost-kiss.

  He stepped back and smirked. “That.”

  And then he handed me the oily rag, turned and walked out.

  My fucking knees almost gave out. I had to lean forward, resting my hands on my knees, to catch my breath like I’d just tried to race a horse to the fence like I did when I was a kid.

  My heart was hammering and my hands were shaking. I was kind of pissed off, to be honest, that I’d let him affect me that way. That I’d let him say that to me, do that to me. That I’d let him get so under my skin when he’d been here just
a week and I’d promised myself I wouldn’t jeopardise my professionalism when it came to him.

  And I wanted to be pissed off because it would feed my resolve to put a stop to this nonsense. I would be pissed off, I told myself, so when he gets back to the homestead that night, I could tell him no.

  I just had to stop smiling first.

  * * * *

  Distracted.

  Distracted was a good way to describe the rest of my day. George would probably use the word useless, and he’d probably be right.

  That fucking smug Yank had me going in circles. It was pitiful. I was pitiful. And I knew when Travis got back to the homestead, I’d tell him that his behaviour was inappropriate, unprofessional and just plain wrong.

  However he thought I looked at him in the hall the other night was wrong.

  So what if he was the first half-naked man I’d seen in almost two years? So what if he had a star tattoo—a symbol for gay men—and so what if he looked like he wanted to pounce on me. So what if he was gay?

  So what if I was gay too? It didn’t mean anything. Just because we were the only two gay men in a three hundred kilometre radius didn’t mean squat.

  Just because I dreamed of him, fantasised about him—just because I wanted him—didn’t mean it could happen.

  Because it couldn’t.

  And when Travis got back tonight, I’d tell him exactly that.

  * * * *

  We’d had dinner minus Travis and Billy, and I had been in my office for a few hours when I heard a familiar laugh outside. I closed my laptop and sighed.

  Next, I heard Ma in the kitchen. “Boys are back,” she called out.

  Knowing what I had to do, I went outside. The sun had all but disappeared, the air had cooled and the horizon was a perfect Outback sunset mix of orange, pinks and purples. I walked over to where Billy and Travis were standing alongside their horses.

  Billy said, “Got ’em all in, boss. Turned the water off in the top paddock and closed the gates.”

  “Thanks,” I said, looking over the horses. They were covered in red dirt and sweat. I presumed the two men weren’t too much better. “You boys wanna go and cleaned up. Ma’s reheating your dinner.” I walked around to Billy’s horse, not making eye contact with Travis.

  “We’ll clean the horses up first, hey, boss?” Billy asked.

  “I’ll do it,” I said, taking both sets of reins and leading the horses toward the shed. I didn’t wait for a reply, but when I tethered the horses and started to unsaddle them, I looked back and both men were gone.

  Fuck.

  I hosed the horses down, brushed them and then fed them with a knot in my stomach. I hated feeling like this. And when I couldn’t put off going back inside any longer, Billy walked out. He rubbed his stomach. “Good tucker,” he said.

  I hung the last bridle up and smiled at him. I liked Billy. He was a bit rough, uneducated—I doubted he could read or write—but he was as genuine as they came. “Ma’s tucker is always good.”

  “Travis did real good today, boss.”

  “Did he?” I asked quietly.

  “Yeah. Funny fella too.”

  I felt a twinge of jealousy and sadness that it was something I wouldn’t know firsthand. I was grateful it was dark so he couldn’t my expression. “Is he?”

  Billy grinned, his white teeth looked whiter still against his dark skin and the darkening night behind him. “Was roundin’ ’em up real good, goin’ flat strap and his horse spooked. Almost came off.”

  “Was he alright?”

  “He’s fine,” Billy said with a laugh. “All he could do was laugh, boss.”

  And there it was again. Jealousy and sadness. Though now it was mostly sadness.

  “Can be on my team any day,” Billy said. “Better hit the hay, hey, boss?”

  I gave a nod. “You’ve got an easy day tomorrow.”

  “Sure thing,” he said as he walked off, and when I was left standing there, I knew I had to go inside and face him.

  I only got inside the front door. I could see the kitchen light was off, as was the dining room light, the lounge room was empty, so I figured he must have been in his room. I walked through the door off the foyer to where our bedrooms were and he was leaning against the hall wall just a few feet away, waiting for me.

  I stopped dead, my stomach was knotted and my heart was in my throat. “Travis,” I said just above a whisper.

  He smiled. “Charlie,” he said, all gruff and southern.

  I swallowed hard and finally found my voice. “We can’t…”

  Travis frowned and nodded. “Fair enough.” Then after a little while, he said, “So are you just gonna ignore me for the rest of my time here? Is that what you do? Just act like I’m not here? Because for the first two days I thought we got on real well, then… nothing. You won’t even look at me.”

  My heart was thumping so damn loud I’m surprised he couldn’t hear it. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words would come.

  “So, this morning,” he said. He took a step forward, still wearing his dirty jeans and shirt. His hair was all flat where he’d worn a hat all day. “Was I wrong? Because your mouth is saying no, but your eyes are saying yes.”

  I looked to the wall beside him. Fuck. I took a deep breath and shook my head.

  He took another step forward and lifted his hand to touch my shirt, my face, I didn’t know. “What are you scared of?”

  I grabbed his hand before he could touch me and pushed him against the hall wall, holding his hand above his head. My face was half an inch from his, looking up at him. His eyes were wide and dark.

  “You,” I snarled at him. “I’m scared of you.”

  And then I kissed him. Not a half-kiss, not a ghost-kiss, but I was rough. I covered my mouth with his and I kissed him for all I was worth.

  He pulled his hand from where I had it pinned above his head, and I thought he would push me away. But he pulled my face closer, his fingers snaked around my neck and he kissed me back.

  Our tongues touched and I groaned, my blood caught fire and I could feel the ache building in my belly.

  Travis wrapped one arm around my waist, pulling at my shirt and then running his hands on my back. His skin on mine made me shiver and I pulled my mouth from his to breathe.

  But he didn’t stop. He kissed my jaw, down my neck, under my ear and I could feel him smile against my skin when I shivered again.

  He looked at me then. For a long moment, his pale blue eyes were dark and his lips were swollen red. He pushed me backward through my bedroom door. And I should have stopped him, I should have said no.

  But I fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him into my room with me.

  His smile, even in the darkened room, was spectacular.

  “Fucking smug Yank,” I mumbled.

  He laughed, a deep throaty chuckle, so I kissed again him to shut him up. I held his face as we kissed, our lips and tongues fused and his hands roamed my back, my sides and then he was fumbling with the fly on my jeans.

  I pulled back from him to undo the buttons myself and he grinned and laughed again, so I pushed him back onto my bed. I crawled over him, both our jeans undone, and I rubbed my cock against his. Even through our briefs, I almost came at the feel of him underneath me.

  It had been so long.

  I kissed him again, devouring his mouth, sliding my tongue against his. With his hands on my arse, Travis pulled my hips into his and moaned into my mouth, “Fuck.”

  Then he did it again.

  And again.

  And I was thrusting, rubbing against him. Our hard cocks slid pushing, seeking friction, anything.

  “Oh God,” I groaned. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

  Gripping my arse, he pulled my hips into his harder, faster, and the room spun and my vision went white and painless fire ripped through my body as I came.

  Travis bucked underneath me, groaning long and low, and there was a hot mess between us. I collapsed on top
of him and he was writhing, and I realised he’d come too.

  I rolled off him onto my back beside him. He chuckled. “Jesus,” he said. “Man, I wanted to do that since the first day I got here.”

  I lifted my arm but it was too heavy and spongy and when it fell back down, it hit his chest, making him laugh. “Shut up,” I told him, chuckling myself.

  He rolled onto his side facing me. “You’re something to see when you come.”

  I barked out a laugh, embarrassed at his candidness. “I, uh, I didn’t see your face, sorry,” I said, and then I cleared my throat. “I think I lost consciousness for a second.”

  He burst out laughing but tried to stifle it. “Gimme ten minutes and you can see it again if you like.”

  I chuckled and sighed. “We should probably get cleaned up.”

  “Lucky we do our own washing,” he said. “God forbid if we had to explain jizz stains to Ma.”

  I laughed again, then tucked my dick back into my briefs. Travis, still on his side, made no attempt to hide himself. “Can I ask you something?” he asked.

  “Oh. Um, I guess.”

  “How long since you last made out with someone?”

  Even in the dark, I’m sure he could see me blush. “Why? Was I bad at it?”

  He snorted. “Definitely not. Just curious. The boys said you don’t go into the Alice on your weekends off. That they didn’t know if you’d left this station in the two years since you’ve been back.”

  “Well,” I said. I cleared my throat. “It’s been a while.”

  “Two years?”

  “Yeah, about that,” I admitted quietly.

  “Then you got three weeks with me,” he said. “Before I leave. You better make the most of it.”

  I laughed and covered my face in my hands. “The staff don’t know,” I said, still hiding my face. “Well, George and Ma know I’m gay, but no one else. They can’t know.”

  “Your call. But no one else has to know,” he said simply. He peeled my hands from my face so I’d look at him. “But I don’t want you to ignore me like you have these last few days,” he said, serious now.