by Jan Irving
“I will think on it,” he found himself saying, and Samuel’s eyes brightened.
As Aaron lifted him onto Gitty’s broad back, he tried to think what odd jobs he might be able to take this winter that would bring in more cash.
NATE found his two men in the ring, Aaron leading a patient Gitty around with Samuel riding the Belgian. He climbed onto the fence and watched them. Aaron looked up at him and then away. Samuel waved, flashing a brilliant smile. The kid came alive whenever he was around horses.
“I’ll help you,” he offered Aaron as the other man led Gitty back to the horse barn after giving Samuel a few more turns in the ring.
“If you want,” Aaron grunted.
Nate huffed out an exasperated sigh. Jealous. Somehow, his Aaron had figured out Sean was the guy Nate had seen off and on, and now he was jealous.
Sam shoved a wrinkled drawing into his hands, and Nate looked down to see another drawing of the mare and her foal. He nodded to the kid. “I think she might have gotten separated somehow from her herd. She’s never with a stallion in your art work.” He didn’t add that it wasn’t a good thing for the wild mustang, that she and her baby would be safer with a stallion protecting them from the wolves and other predators that came down from the foothills in the winter. “Show me the others, Sammy,” Nate asked absently.
If he could get a rough idea of where exactly the mustangs grazed…. He recognized part of the landscape as Samuel’s path to school, an abandoned, old farm that was just waste now. It ran along the country road. He’d heard from Luke that Morgan had thought of buying it and putting the land back into use. As he skimmed through the collection, he found a sheet with a message written for Aaron. He read it and his jaw twitched. “Here, kid,” he said, handing the drawings back to Sam. “I need to go talk to your Papa, okay?”
Samuel nodded and Nate watched him head back to the cabin he shared with his father.
“WILL you just…!” Nate wanted to tear his hair out. Aaron had finished brushing the draft horse, all while coldly ignoring Nate. “I’m not going to sleep with Sean again.”
Aaron gave him a look under his brows.
“I told him, okay?” Nate rubbed the tight cords in the back of his neck. “I told him that I… belong to someone now.”
Aaron put down the brushes he’d been using.
“That is, if he still wants me.” Nate hated that his voice came out sounding so uncertain, but he was scared. Aaron mattered to him.
“You should have told me about him,” Aaron said.
“I know. I was working up to it.” Aaron suddenly came closer, and Nate pulled his head down close so their foreheads rested together. Muscles relaxed that had been tense all goddamned day.
“I don’t want you living with him.”
“I’m not—”
“Living under the same roof as him.” Aaron raised his hand. “Nathaniel, would you be comfortable if I had been with this man?”
Nate shook his head. “But I have to live somewhere.”
“You will live with me.”
Nate blinked. “Uh.”
“I have a cabin. I have a washer and dryer. I have a TV, but it is not working now. You will live with me, sleep in… in my bed.” Aaron swallowed.
“But Sam….”
Aaron took his hand, and Nate felt immediately claimed.
He didn’t resist as Aaron tugged him from the barn.
“We will tell him tonight at dinner.”
Chapter Nine
NATE cleared his throat. The cherry pie was damned good, but it might as well have been sawdust for all he cared. He’d been on edge all during dinner. Aaron wasn’t helping. He said nothing, seeming calm and patient as he went about preparing the food while Sam laid out the dishes. It had left Nate with nothing to do but fret.
When was Aaron going to tell Sam? How was he going to tell him? Shit. Nate pushed his hair off his face, thinking he’d have to get it cut soon, since it was getting in his eyes again. It made him wonder how Aaron liked it. He’d told Aaron he liked his beard, hoped he’d keep it. Did Aaron like to wrap his fingers in Nate’s hair? He ached to lie with him in the same bed, to get closer, to find out for himself.
But he also ached to make Sam smile, to see the kid more at ease. Sam was still so locked up inside himself.
“I liked your drawings,” Nate told Sam. “I’m going to head into that neck of the woods tomorrow, have a look around for your horses.”
Sam’s face briefly glowed, and he pointed to his own chest.
“You want to come with me?” Nate asked, and the kid nodded. “Well, tell you what. School ends after tomorrow for the holidays, right? Why don’t I take you there with me the day after tomorrow?”
Sam’s face reflected a tiny bit of disappointment over the delay, but he finally nodded his agreement.
“I know, school’s a drag sometimes,” Nate said. He couldn’t help thinking of Aaron’s worries of what might lie ahead for Sam on that front. Sam nodded vehemently, and Nate laughed, deciding to push it from his mind for the moment. He still wanted to see if he could make some holiday magic work for Sam.
Nate said, “Aaron, thanks, the dinner was great.”
At the same time, Aaron said, “Nathaniel is going to come live with us now, Samuel.”
Nate’s breath caught in his chest, and his gaze shot to Sam. The kid’s brow furrowed, and he looked from Nate to Aaron, looking confused.
Nate waited, sure that Aaron would add more to his lightning bolt, but he said nothing. Sam’s face darkened, and he slid out of his chair.
“Wait! Damn it!” Nate reddened as he swore in front of Sam, but he still wasn’t used to kids. He huffed out a breath and came to his feet. “Sam, your Papa and I….” Oh, geez.
“We really, uh—”
But Sam shoved aside another chair and ran for the door, tearing it open. Aaron shouted at him.
“Aaron, fuck!” Nate snatched his heavy jacket. “His world keeps getting rocked. It keeps getting rocked, so he hides inside himself.”
Aaron swallowed, right beside Nate, his coat on. “He likes you so much, I can see that. I thought—” Nate saw the same distress reflected on the father’s face that had been on the son’s. He hated that he was the cause of it. “Where has he gone?”
“The shed with the animals,” Aaron said, nodding toward it, and Nate saw sure enough the light was on in the little lean-to. “He goes there when he is upset.”
“And you leave him alone when he does that, don’t you?” Nate asked, trying to get the lay of the land.
Aaron nodded. “I try to respect his thinking time.”
“Well, we’ll give him lots of time to think about this,”
Nate said. “But first I think we need to clear up the confusion. I’d like to talk to him. Please, trust me?”
Aaron held his gaze. “I trust you. You said one day you would make me want to dance, but I want that for Samuel. I want that for my son.”
Nate swallowed. “I know you do.” Nate reached out and squeezed Aaron’s arm. “You just had no clue how to tell him about us. You were afraid.”
THE air in the shed had that warm, pleasant muskiness, welcome after the sting of the chill outdoors. Sam was sweeping, the broom a little taller than his slight figure. Nate and Aaron entered, but Aaron lingered near the door while Nate delved further into the space. One of the Banty hens made a soft sound from her shelf on the wall, annoyed at all the intruders after dark.
Nate pulled out the single armless chair in the space, sitting down. He watched Sam for a while. “Do you like me, Sam?”
Sam hesitated but continued sweeping, his face set.
Nate swallowed. “I hope so, because I… well, I really like spending time with you. I think you have the makings of a first-class rider with your love of horses.”
Sam still didn’t look at him, but Nate had the impression he was listening.
Nate shoved his hair off his forehead. “I’m sorry you’re confu
sed.” He cursed softly under his breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t want that for you.” He cleared his throat and looked back at Aaron. “What we said tonight at dinner was wrong.”
Now Sam looked up, slightly disgruntled. Nate sighed.
“We told you that someone else was coming to live in your house, without asking how you felt about it. That’s just not right.”
Nate looked to Aaron, and Aaron picked up his cue, saying, “Your Papa made a mistake tonight, Samuel.” He walked forward now and took the broom from his son.
“Sam.”
Nate couldn’t resist anymore, so he reached out and ruffled Sam’s hair. “So, we still on for that day of looking for your wild horses?”
Sam carefully studied him and then his father. He nodded.
Aaron put his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Come on. It is time to go to bed.”
Still subdued, Sam went with his father. Nate left the shed, watching them. When Aaron reached the door of the cabin, he looked over his shoulder at Nate once before disappearing inside.
“JUST what do you think you are doing?” Aaron’s surprised voice roused Nate the next morning.
Nate sat up, groaning from his stiff back. “I was sleeping. What the hell time is it?”
“It is nearly five,” Aaron said.
“That’s at least half an hour earlier than I usually get up,” Nate grumbled. “You get up really early, know that?”
Aaron widened his eyes. “It is a ranch. Why are you here in my shed, Nate?”
Nate shrugged. His throat tightened as Aaron knelt beside him, putting aside an empty wire egg basket. “Is Sam okay?”
“He was very quiet when he went to his room last night, but….” Aaron’s eyes gleamed. “Before I turned out his light, he hugged me.”
“Oh.” Nate studied Aaron.
“He—” Aaron cleared his throat. “He has not done that in a long time.”
“I’m glad he did,” Nate said quietly.
Aaron’s brow wrinkled. “Will you tell me why you are sleeping here?” His face darkened. “Sean did not do something?”
“No!” Nate gripped Aaron’s hand. “No, but last night I was so… strung out, I guess.” Nate looked around the small shed, sliding out from his sleeping bag. “All I could think was, you didn’t want me staying in the bunkhouse anymore, and Sam isn’t anywhere ready for, um…. So I hit on the idea of sleeping in the shed. It seemed logical last night at two a.m.”
Aaron blinked. “You would do this? This is… crazy Happy Nathaniel stuff.”
Nate pushed back hair he had no doubt stuck up at weird angles around his head. “Yeah, it is. But I’ll do it.”
Aaron shook his head. “No, you won’t.” Nate didn’t resist as the larger man leaned his forehead against Nate’s.
“But—”
“I will deal with my jealousy. I will trust you not to hurt me,” Aaron said, very simply.
Nate’s shoulders sagged as he let out a sigh. “Okay. That dirt floor…. Yeah, I’d be okay with that.”
“One day soon my son will want you to move in with us.”
Nate’s eyes widened at the certainty in Aaron’s voice.
“You really believe that?”
“You have made me believe.” One corner of Aaron’s mouth lifted. “Come to breakfast. I will make you pancakes with strawberries.”
“My favorite!”
OVER breakfast Nate saw Sam slowly relaxing as things remained the way they always were between the three of them. Aaron directed his son to put out plates for the hands, and Nate pitched in to put condiments on the table while teasing both his men. When the other cowboys came in, the usual joking around went on, and no one said anything about finding Nate helping out. He figured that by now his interest in Aaron was probably pretty clear.
“Since I’m heading over to that old farm, you can ride with me to school if you want, Sam,” he suggested a little later.
Sam hesitated, looking to his father.
“Go if you want,” Aaron encouraged gently. Nate felt relieved he didn’t make it an order and push his son.
Samuel gave a shy nod.
Nate finished scraping off his plate and looked up to meet Aaron’s gaze. The other man looked like he desperately wanted to kiss Nate this morning. Nate swallowed, wanting the same thing. But one day…. Aaron said he believed it would happen, that they could become a family. “Well, uh, see you in the horse barn, Sam. Ten minutes, okay?”
SOMEHOW he wasn’t surprised when Aaron saddled up the Belgian he was fond of and joined him and Sam on the ride to school. Sam chose to ride with him on his Morgan, Pete, and Nate found himself relaxing and just enjoying the sunny late December morning. He could feel in the brittleness of the air that soon they’d have snowfall, but the sun lit the remaining leaves a glowing amber as they fluttered down from the trees in slow, lazy circles.
As their horses clomped over gravel and frozen ground, Nate began to relax. He wasn’t sure how things would work out but seeing this change of season he couldn’t help but feel that maybe by spring… or summer… there was time for it all to happen.
“Nate!” Aaron’s shout broke his reverie. The other man had ridden a little further ahead, around the bend where the willows grew by the creek.
Worried, Nate urged Pete on, even as the big Morgan snorted, clearly unhappy about something.
He caught sight of the shape of a reddened rib cage, rigid feet sticking out…. He dismounted immediately, helping Sam down and blocking his view. He squeezed the boy’s shoulders. “The schoolhouse is close by. I want you to head over there now, all right?”
Sam shook his head vehemently.
“Sam, do it,” Nate ordered. He waited until he saw the kid start down the familiar path before joining Aaron.
“One of the mustangs,” Aaron said.
“Shit, maybe that cougar again. Looks like it,” Nate said.
“I can’t tell if it’s one of the horses from Sam’s drawings. If it’s the mare, there was a foal….”
Aaron shook his head, studying the disturbed ground around the carcass. “No sign of a foal.”
“I’ll call this in, get another hand to help me.”
Instinctively, he didn’t want Sam to get a closer look on his way back from school today, especially not after all the drawings he’d done.
Aaron nodded, leading the horses back into a grove of trees where he secured them. When he returned, Nate had made his call and studied the ground further out from the creek.
“Tracks near the trees, maybe from this morning. Might be the foal.”
“The little one won’t last out here alone,” Aaron said.
“That’s why I’m going to keep looking, Aaron,” Nate vowed. “I had this idea—”
“My fault.”
The voice sounded rusty like a door that had gone unused.
Nate frowned, thinking the other hand he’d called up had arrived here damn quick. He looked up at Aaron and saw astonishment cross his face.
And then he saw him. Sam. The kid had returned. His book bag lay on the ground beside him as he stared at the remains of the wild horse.
“Sam, it’s no one’s fault,” Nate said, as soft as he had ever made his voice. After all these months, all these many months, Sam had finally spoken. Sweat coated Nate’s spine as he watched Aaron’s hands ball into fists.
Sam’s face looked tight and pale as the coming snow. He looked a little spacey. “My mama fell down in our kitchen. S-s-she was… she couldn’t breathe. So I helped her sit up.”
Nate’s voice dried up.
“She t-told me to stay with her. She said…. But I went to get her medicine. Knew where she kept it but I couldn’t…. I tried, but the chair fell.” Sam’s voice thinned out to a breaking thread. “When I went back downstairs, she wasn’t moving. I left her and she died.”
Nate’s heart cracked like fresh ice. He strode to Sam, kneeling beside him. After a moment, on the hush of breath that hurt leaving h
is body—hurt for Sam, oh, God, Sam—he took the boy’s cold hands, squeezing gently. Sam blinked. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Sam stared at him.
“Do you hear me, Samuel?” Nate felt the chill of the tears on his cheeks. Sam wasn’t crying. Nate somehow had to do it for him.
And then Aaron was there, crushing Sam close. “My little boy.”
Sam leaned against him with the sound of something breaking free. His fist clenched in his Papa’s coat.
After a long time, Aaron or Sam, Nate wasn’t sure who exactly, but he was tugged close until they made a circle.
Chapter Ten
THE snow fell like feathers from a torn eiderdown when Samuel went to the door and opened it for Luke, Nate’s friend. He nodded to him, then immediately peered around behind him.
Where was Nate?
“Hey, kid. Cold night for Christmas Eve,” Luke remarked, kicking the snow off his boots on the porch before he came inside the cabin.
Papa pulled a cake from the oven. They tasted better lately, since Nate had bought him a cookbook called Italian Country Baking.
“H-hey,” Sam replied. His voice still sounded strange to his ears. He barely said a word to strangers, but Luke was Nate’s friend.
Luke raised his brows but then gave his attention to Samuel’s Papa. “I brought that referral Morgan wanted you to have, Aaron.” He glanced again at Samuel.
His Papa nodded. He put aside the cake and took off his oven mitts, coming over to Luke to take a piece of paper from him. “Thank you. Samuel and I will be going to counseling. I am a little nervous, but Nate has promised to try to make us both supper the first time we go.”
Luke grinned. “If he cooks like I do, hope you have the number of a good takeout place.”
The door thumped loudly, as if something had struck it.
Samuel jumped.
Luke’s warm, blue eyes studied him. “Maybe you want to get that?”
Samuel looked at his Papa, a little anxious.
