by Ariel Tachna
“This is stupid,” he muttered. “There are dozens of other rooms. I’ll just get a blanket from one of them.” He pulled his jeans and shirt back on so he wasn’t running around in his underwear, even the long kind, in case Jeremy was still up, and went into the room next to his. He rummaged through the low chest, looking for a blanket. He pulled one free and shook it out. A plastic bag fell from the folds and landed on his foot. With a frown, he picked it up, trying to figure out what it contained. It took a minute for the particular shape of the leaves to register. “Oh, shit. Jeremy!”
“What’s wrong?” he heard Jeremy call from the other room.
Holding the bag like it might bite him, Sam headed toward the common area. “I, um… I found this when I went looking for another blanket. I don’t think it’s supposed to be here.”
Jeremy took the bag from Sam’s hand. “No, it’s not, but I’m not surprised. The first night I was here, I thought I smelled marijuana smoke mixed in with the tobacco smoke, but then I didn’t smell it again after that, so I figured I’d imagined it. Obviously not.”
“What do we do?” Sam asked.
“We tell Macklin in the morning,” Jeremy said. “If it’s just the one bag, then we get rid of it. If it’s more than that, I don’t know what to say, but Macklin will know.”
“Should we go check now?” Sam asked.
“No,” Jeremy said. “You should go to bed. Your lips are blue. We’ll talk to Macklin in the morning and search the bunkhouse with his and Caine’s help.”
“This is going to upset them,” Sam said.
“Hey,” Jeremy said, grabbing Sam’s arms and giving him a little shake, “unless that’s your pot in your hand, you aren’t the one responsible for this. That’s on whoever brought that shit onto Caine’s property. You’re helping by reporting it. They’ll figure out whose room it was in, and they’ll make sure not to hire the bloke next spring. We’ll keep an eye out when we’re riding to make sure the bastard didn’t have a few plants hidden on the property, and we’ll take care of it if he did. If you hadn’t found it, the jackaroo could have come back and made a real mess of things.”
“I just hate being the bearer of bad news,” Sam said.
“That’s understandable,” Jeremy said, pulling Sam a little closer. Sam let himself be held, Jeremy’s warmth a balm for body and soul. “Nobody likes upsetting people they care about, but it could be far worse if you don’t tell them.”
Sam considered that for a minute. He’d read stories in the paper and heard things on the news about people going to jail for growing and selling marijuana, and if the authorities found plants growing on Lang Downs, it would be hard for Caine and Macklin to prove they hadn’t planted them and didn’t know about them. Better to deal with it before it got to that stage. “Yeah, you’re right. We’ll talk to them in the morning.”
“Just leave it on the table for now,” Jeremy said. “There’s no one else here. It’ll be fine sitting there.”
Sam nodded, but he didn’t pull away. It felt too good to be held in Jeremy’s arms. To Sam’s relief, Jeremy didn’t pull away either.
“You going to bed?” Jeremy asked with a grin.
“It’s cold,” Sam said. “I can’t seem to get warm, even with Hawk curled up next to me.”
“Is that why you went looking for another blanket?” Jeremy asked.
Sam nodded. “But somehow I don’t think that’s really going to help either when I don’t feel like I have any warmth for the blanket to keep inside.”
“Are you sick?” Jeremy asked.
“No, just cold,” Sam insisted. “I’ve been like this all day. Kami’s stew helped at dinner, but then I went back outside to come here, and that undid all the progress I’d made.”
“If it were September, I’d have a few suggestions for you,” Jeremy said, waggling his eyebrows at Sam.
“If it were September, I wouldn’t be cold,” Sam retorted. “Not like this anyway. This is June weather, not September weather.”
“You never know,” Jeremy said. “The weather’s unpredictable up here. It wouldn’t be typical September weather, but I can remember a few years when we had unseasonably cold temperatures all the way into October.”
Sam shivered again. “So any suggestions for mid-June instead of September?” he asked.
“Who has the bigger bunk?” Jeremy asked. “You or me?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Because we can lie down together until you warm up,” Jeremy suggested. “Once you’re warm, the blankets will keep you that way, and I can go to the other room to sleep.”
“That’s not exactly fair to you,” Sam said.
“I’m not sure either of the bunks is big enough for two full-grown men,” Jeremy said. “They’re only designed for one.”
“I know,” Sam said, “but I kind of like the idea of sleeping with you. Next to you, I mean!”
He flushed bright red.
Jeremy brushed his nose against Sam’s. “I like both ideas personally, but I’m only human, Sam. I’m trying bloody hard not to jump you half the time, and sleeping next to you, waking up next to you, would make that even harder. I’m not saying I won’t do it if that’s what you want. I’m just saying think about what you’re asking for and what it could mean.”
Sam had thought about it. He’d thought about it a lot! The one kiss they’d shared on the veranda and all the evenings they’d spent in front of the fireplace drinking beer and chatting about everything from how the day had gone to their favorite memories of childhood winters had left Sam in no doubt of what he wanted and who he wanted it with. “Two and a half more months,” he said. “Alison filed the papers on June 1. The court hearing is scheduled for end of July. Thirty-one days after that, I’m a free man.”
“And when you are, we’ll decide what we want to do,” Jeremy said. “Tonight, though, we need to warm you up, so it’s either me for a few minutes or a heating pad.”
“I want it to be you,” Sam said, trembling a little at the thought of walking down the hall and into one of the rooms with Jeremy’s hand in his, stripping off the outer layers and then crawling beneath the covers like lovers, like partners. “But I think it would be safer if I went with the heating pad.”
“I have one in my room,” Jeremy said. “I’ll get it for you.”
Sam nodded, but he didn’t move his arms from around Jeremy’s waist. Jeremy chuckled and tapped Sam’s wrists. “You have to let me go if I’m going to get it for you.”
“In a minute,” Sam said. He couldn’t pin down why he was so clingy tonight, other than the cold, but he wasn’t going to deny himself when it felt so good and wasn’t hurting anyone.
“Okay,” Jeremy said, settling his arms back around Sam’s waist. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”
Sam leaned against Jeremy and took a deep breath. Jeremy must have taken a shower before dinner because he smelled of cedar and mint, not of dust and animal. He slid one hand over Jeremy’s nape, playing idly with the short hair there. “Sam, sweetheart,” Jeremy said, his breath tickling Sam’s ear, “unless you’re changing your mind about where you’re sleeping tonight, you need to stop teasing me. I’m not made of stone.”
Sam inhaled sharply and pulled back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Jeremy silenced him with a kiss.
“Don’t ever apologize for wanting to touch me,” Jeremy said when he lifted his head. “I would love nothing more than to take you back to my bunk and keep you warm all night long. I just need you to be aware of what it does to me when you touch me, and to keep that in mind when you do, okay?”
“Okay,” Sam said shakily. “I know this isn’t fair to you.”
“Hey, I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for this gig, remember? You told me up front that your divorce wouldn’t be final until September. Just because it’s harder than I thought it would be doesn’t mean I regret my choice. Once it’s legal, though, we’re going to run aw
ay for the weekend someplace where no one knows us, and we’re going to spend the entire weekend in bed.”
Sam shivered from desire this time instead of cold. “That sounds amazing. If you keep talking like that, I might not need that heating pad.”
“If I keep talking like that, I’m going to forget it isn’t September yet,” Jeremy replied. This time when he pulled back, Sam let him go.
Jeremy disappeared down the hall and came back a minute later with an electric heating pad. “Plug that in and stick it between the blankets and it should warm you up nicely,” Jeremy said, handing it to Sam.
“Thanks,” Sam said. He set the bag of marijuana on the table and headed back toward his room, heating pad in hand. When he reached the door, he turned back to look at Jeremy. “September can’t get here fast enough,”
Jeremy tensed, as if fighting himself. Sam took that as his signal to hide. He stepped into his room and closed the door.
Between the heating pad, Hawk, and the extra blanket, he was finally able to shake the chill, but his dreams that night were filled with shadowy images of a hard body wrapping around his from behind, holding him close, keeping him warm.
Sixteen
“DO YOU have a minute, Macklin?” Sam said after breakfast the next morning.
“Of course,” Macklin said. “Is there a problem?”
“Kind of,” Sam said. “I was going to talk to Caine, but I haven’t seen him this morning.”
“He went in to Boorowa with Patrick,” Macklin said. “He should be back tonight. Do we need to wait for him?”
“No, I guess not,” Sam said. “Could you come to the bunkhouse?”
Macklin nodded, and Sam led the way down the main road to the bunkhouse.
“I was cold last night,” Sam began by way of explanation, “so I went into one of the other rooms to get a blanket. I figured I could always wash it and put it back before we hired new people in the spring, so it didn’t seem like it would be a problem.”
“It’s not as far as I’m concerned,” Macklin said. “If you need to keep it, we can always buy an extra blanket.”
“No, I’m sure I won’t need it later, but that’s not the problem,” Sam said as they walked inside. He picked up the baggie and handed it to Macklin. “I found that wrapped up in the blanket.”
Macklin’s face tightened. “Which room?”
Sam showed him.
“Jenkins,” Macklin spat. “I should have known. He spent the entire summer doing as little work as possible. Is this all there was?”
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “I called Jeremy, and he said we should wait and show you this morning and search then.”
“Okay,” Macklin said, going into the room Jenkins had used. “Let’s start searching.”
They spent the next twenty minutes going through the entire room, opening drawers, checking the bottoms as well as the insides, going through the closet and the linens, even flipping the mattress to make sure it hadn’t been cut open and repaired, but they didn’t find any other signs of marijuana or other drugs in the room.
“We need to check the other rooms too,” Macklin said when they were done. “We need to make sure he didn’t hide it anywhere else or that no one else had any.”
“There’s nothing in the office that needs my attention today,” Sam said. “I can search in here if you need to do other things.”
Macklin considered that for a moment. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, the other concern this raises is where he got it. There was a grazier up in Cowra with a similar problem a few years ago. They found plants on his land, and he nearly went to jail over it before one of his jackaroos admitted to planting them himself. I’ll feel a lot better after I’ve had a chance to make sure the same thing hasn’t happened here.”
“Do what you need to do,” Sam said. “I’ll search in here, and if I find anything else, I’ll make a note of where it was. Don’t ride out by yourself. Make sure you take someone with you.”
Macklin smiled, even if it was a little tight around the edges. “I’ll get Jeremy to go with me since he already knows what’s going on. Don’t say anything about this to anyone but Caine until I say so.”
“I won’t,” Sam promised.
“JEREMY, SADDLE up!” Macklin ordered, walking into the shed where Jeremy and several of the other jackaroos were working on equipment maintenance.
“What’s up, boss?” Jeremy asked as he rose from his place.
Macklin didn’t reply, but the tilt of his head toward the paddock where the horses were kept was answer enough for Jeremy. Macklin might not want to talk about it in front of the others, but Jeremy could guess. He grabbed a saddle and bridle from the tack room and followed Macklin outside, with Arrow on his heels.
A few minutes later, they were headed toward the far end of the valley. “You don’t think he would have planted down this way?” Jeremy asked.
“Too dangerous,” Macklin said. “In the valley itself, he ran the risk of someone seeing it. If he was growing it, he had to have the plants out in one of the upper paddocks, probably away from the roads and the direct routes between drover’s huts.”
“So are we just riding at random or do you have an idea where it might be?” Jeremy asked.
“Jenkins usually volunteered for the team that was riding toward the south paddocks,” Macklin said. “Maybe that’s coincidence, and I didn’t have any reason to suspect anything at the time, but it seems worth checking out.”
Jeremy nodded and followed Macklin through the gate.
TWO HOURS later, with a storm brewing on the horizon and the temperature falling, Jeremy was reconsidering the wisdom of their search. “We need to head back,” he said. “We can search more tomorrow if you’re not satisfied we’ve checked everything out.”
Macklin looked like he wanted to argue, but he scanned the horizon and relented. “I’ll talk to Caine tonight when he gets back.” He looked at the horizon again. “Or tomorrow, if this gets bad enough to keep him in Boorowa. I know none of the year-rounders are involved. We can trust them to help us keep an eye out. I just want to tell Caine first.”
Jeremy nodded and turned his horse back the way they’d come. He’d urged it to a canter when a sharp crack of thunder startled him. For a moment, he thought he was going to lose his seat as the horse reared up in surprise, but he finally got him under control. He turned back to check on Macklin, only to see the foreman on the ground, his horse standing over him.
“Shit,” Jeremy said, guiding his horse back toward Macklin. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t think so,” Macklin said. “I’m pretty sure I felt something in my knee go when I fell.”
Jeremy frowned and slid down off his horse. He knelt next to Macklin and probed his leg gently. Macklin hissed in pain. “Yeah, something is definitely not right.”
“Where’s the radio?” Jeremy asked.
Macklin handed it to him. Jeremy clicked it on and called back to the station. Nobody answered. He switched the station and tried again.
“Nothing,” he said.
“It could be the storm interfering with the reception, or it could be the batteries. I left it on the charger last night, but maybe it didn’t take.”
“So what do we do now?” Jeremy asked. “If I help, do you think you can ride?”
“Not far,” Macklin said. “There’s a drover’s hut over the next rise. If I can get there, you can go back for a ute. Even if the storm breaks, I’ll be okay until you can come back for me.”
“I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone.”
“I’m not going to make it back to the valley on a horse,” Macklin said. “At least not on Ned. Maybe if you’d ridden Titan, we could switch, but there’s no way I can stay on Ned or Cloudy with a busted knee.”
Jeremy pursed his lips. “Okay, let’s see if we can get you on Cloudy. I can walk Ned to the drover’s hut and leave him in the shed there.”
They managed to get Macklin on Cloudy’s
back with quite a bit of swearing, but it was enough to prove Macklin’s point to Jeremy. However unhappy Jeremy was at the idea of leaving Macklin alone in the drover’s hut, Macklin wouldn’t make it back to the station like this, even if Jeremy could ride Ned. They made it to the drover’s hut and undertook the painstaking process of getting Macklin off the horse without hurting him even worse. Jeremy dropped Cloudy’s reins to steady Macklin and the horse took advantage, galloping away the minute he could. Arrow bolted after him, barking madly, but the kelpie was no match for a horse. Jeremy whistled for him to come back. It was going to be a long, miserable walk back to the station.
“Ride Ned,” Macklin said as Jeremy helped him hobble inside.
“I thought you said nobody else could ride him,” Jeremy said.
“What other choice is there?” Macklin asked. “The radio isn’t getting through. If you walk, even if the storm doesn’t break, it’ll be hours before you get back. Ride Ned.”
“If he throws me off and I break my neck, I’m blaming you,” Jeremy threatened.
“Just… just talk to him before you mount,” Macklin said. “Tell him who you are and what you need him to do. I know it makes me sound like a right Galah, but that’s what I do. Every time I ride him, I remind him it’s just me and tell him what we’re going to do that day. The drongos who try to ride him to prove themselves never bother.”
“Okay,” Jeremy said. “If that’s what I need to do, I’ll try it. Do you need anything before I leave?”
