by Ari McKay
“One of the hands,” Al explained, taking a sip of tea. “The way he acts around Carlos is like an infatuated girl. I wasn’t sure if he’s really flirting or if I was imagining things.”
Al was referring to Caleb, and Jules relaxed slightly. Perhaps this would be a good opportunity to discover what his stepson would feel if he were ever to discover the truth about Jules—or about Carlos, Gil, or Matt, for that matter.
“I don’t think you were imagining anything. I’ve noticed that myself,” Jules said. “I suppose the question is if it makes you uncomfortable or angry, or if you feel there is something wrong with it.”
Al considered the question carefully before answering. “I don’t reckon it’s any of my business,” he said at last, giving a little shrug. “If people have been doing it as far back as the Greeks, then that’s just how some people are, and there must not be anything wrong with it. It’s different, that’s all.”
“That is an enlightened way to look at it.” Jules smiled slightly. “You are one of a very few who doesn’t consider it to be an offense to God and something to be hated and feared.”
Al looked startled at that. “Why? Love isn’t something to be afraid of.”
“Of course it isn’t.” He would have to be careful, but Jules had negotiated some of these same conversational waters back during his university days, when supposedly abstract intellectual discussions might actually be a prelude to a liaison. “It isn’t exactly love that people are afraid of. It’s more a social taboo related to… well, physical intimacy between people of the same gender.”
“Too many people care too much about that, no matter who you love, if you ask me,” Al said tartly. “They say if you’re intimate without being married, you’re going to hell, especially girls, but they don’t stop to think that God’s the one who made us like this. Why would he make us feel lust and love if they were wrong?”
Not for the first time, Jules was intensely grateful Al was so much like Mary and that Mary had been an exceptional woman and a truly extraordinary mother. “Your mother thought much the same way. She believed love was too important to be bound by what anyone might think of the people involved.”
“Well, it is,” Al replied. “Worrying about what other people think is a waste of time.”
Jules smiled slightly. “In that case, does something about Caleb concern you? Or about Carlos, perhaps?”
“I think Caleb is going to get hurt. He’s a fine fellow, and I’d hate to see that happen, but I think it will.”
Jules was curious, and Al certainly was around Caleb—and around Caleb when he was around Carlos—more than Jules was. “Is there a particular reason you believe that?”
“From what I can tell, either Carlos is pretending he doesn’t notice Caleb flirting with him, or he really doesn’t notice Caleb is flirting. Either way, it means he isn’t interested,” Al said with a little shrug.
Jules nodded, feeling relief in knowing Carlos was serious about not being interested in Caleb. “Do you believe I should say something to Caleb? I know Bent Oak is a wonderful place, but there might be some people who would cause trouble for him if they noticed what he is doing.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Al said, his expression turning troubled. “Maybe I should talk to him. We’re friends. He might accept it better coming from me.”
“He might at that.” Jules thought about Thanksgiving night and about the way Caleb had been watching him with Carlos and the person who had been standing in the shadows while he and Carlos talked. “Just be careful no one else overhears you, and don’t be surprised if he denies everything.”
“I’ll be careful,” Al assured him as he put his cup aside and stood up. “If you’re hungry now, I can heat up supper. Consuela brought over some soup.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Jules reached for his crutches. “I’ll come into the kitchen with you. Maybe by the time we’ve got things ready, Carlos will be home.”
He followed Al into the kitchen, smiling at his stepson’s back and feeling a warm swell of pride in the young man. Mary had given Al his foundations, but Jules, fortunately, had managed not to mess things up. And maybe one day he’d be able to tell Al the truth about himself. He’d like that. It would be one of the most wonderful things he could imagine for Al to know the truth and say he loved Jules anyway.
Acceptance was a pearl beyond price.
Chapter Sixteen
JULES HUMMED softly to himself as he sipped his second cup of coffee, reading through every article of The San Antonio Express and catching up on events outside of Mercy. He’d found that paper along with several others on the kitchen table when he’d come in for breakfast, left by Consuela with a note that Gil thought he might like them.
Carlos had left a note, too, mentioning he’d gone to the stables to check on Carmencita. The mare was due to give birth at any moment, and it was amusing to see Carlos hovering over her proprietarily, eager to see the foal Corazon had fathered. Al was still in bed, having gotten back late from town the previous evening, after Jules had already gone to bed. Jules didn’t worry about him being out with the older hands; Al was mature enough to hold his own and not get pulled into any trouble.
Even as he read about the latest tax proposals in Texas and reports of the goings-on elsewhere, however, his mind kept returning to the last few days and his relationship with Carlos. Since Thanksgiving, and especially since his discussion with Al, he was becoming more and more convinced that Carlos could be trusted. In part, he had to admit, it had to do with what Al had said about Carlos being totally immune to Caleb’s flirtation. If anyone could tempt Carlos, it would probably be Caleb, and the fact that Carlos had shown no interest at all did much to settle Jules’s fears.
“Morning, Pa!” Al called out cheerfully as he entered the room, pulling up his suspenders along the way. “Did you miss me?”
“I certainly did.” Jules smiled at him and gestured to the papers. “Look what Gil sent me. It’s been months since I’ve thought of anything beyond Mercy or Bent Oak.”
“Can I have them next?” Al whistled as he fixed himself a cup of coffee, seeming to be in higher spirits than usual.
“Of course. How was your evening in town?” Jules raised one eyebrow, watching his stepson closely. “You seem awfully cheerful this morning.”
Al’s smile widened to a grin as he took a seat at the table. “It was great! We went to the cafe for supper, and Tabitha was there with her parents. I asked permission to walk her home, and she invited me in. We talked for a while, and… I know I’m not in any position to take a wife yet, but I asked if she would let me be her steady beau until we can get engaged, and she said yes!”
Jules blinked, startled, but then he reached out to give Al’s hand a squeeze. “I thought the two of you were sweet on one another,” he said, pleased for Al’s happiness. “I see you’re being sensible about it, too, knowing you need to be a bit more settled before you can get married, but Tabitha is a wonderful girl and worth waiting for.” He paused. “Do her parents know? Mr. McManus has a reputation for being, um, difficult where Tabitha’s beaux are concerned.”
“Tabitha put her foot down with her folks. You should have seen her!” Al chuckled. “She said she’s made up her mind, and her pa isn’t going to convince her to change it,” he added, puffing out his chest with pride.
Given that Tabitha probably had a force of will as strong as her father—if in a far sweeter and kinder package—Jules thought there was a good chance she would get what she wanted. “I’m so happy for you,” he said, squeezing Al’s hand again. “I’ll help you however I can. I have some money I’ve been saving up over the years, and I’ve always intended that part of it would be yours when you were ready to get married. Maybe that will help speed things up?”
“Really?” Al’s eyes lit up with hope, and he squeezed Jules’s hand tight. “That would be perfect! Gil has said if I keep working hard, he’d consider making me Carlos’s assistant and give me
a raise. He even said he’d sell me some land on the ranch if I decided to stay and get married.”
After being the recipient of Gil’s generosity himself, Jules wasn’t at all surprised. He’d heard things here and there about Gil’s history at Bent Oak and about Vernon Porter, his uncle, and he knew Gil liked doing what he could to help people and make them happy. Jules thought it was admirable, and he was especially grateful for Gil’s largesse when it came to Al’s happiness.
“Yes, really,” he confirmed. “It’s not a fortune, by any means, but I was left some money by my parents, and I’ve been frugal, as you well know. I have hopes I will be able to sell my book when I finish it. I’ve made good progress since coming here, and the money from that would help too.”
“Thank you, Pa.” Al squeezed Jules’s hand again, his smile as bright as the noonday sun. “There isn’t any rush. Tabitha said she doesn’t want any other beau but me, so I don’t mind waiting until I can build her a house and start off our married life right. She likes the idea of living here on the ranch.” His grin turned mischievous. “I think she wants to put a little distance between herself and her pa.”
Privately, Jules couldn’t blame her, but he didn’t feel it appropriate to say so, especially since it didn’t really need to be said. Al was well aware. “All children need to get out on their own someday,” he replied virtuously, but the corners of his mouth insisted on curving upward.
“I’m glad we’ll be able to stay on the ranch, though,” Al replied. “I love Tabitha, and I want to marry her, but I hate leaving you alone.”
“Now don’t you worry about me,” Jules said firmly. “I do want to be near you. I’m looking forward to playing with my grandchildren one day, maybe teaching them their ABCs.” He remembered what Carlos had said about wanting to experience fatherhood, and he wondered if being a sort-of grandfather would be good enough. He could imagine Carlos down on the floor, rolling around with babies, or dandling a small, golden-haired child on his knee while Jules looked on in approval.
He went still as he realized that, for the first time, he’d pictured himself in the future with Carlos. It was the first time he’d looked beyond the present to imagine what their life together could really be.
“I wouldn’t have them learn from anyone else,” Al assured him. Releasing Jules’s hand, he took one last swallow of coffee and pushed back his chair. “I’d better get going. I want to talk to Carlos about the new horses. I hope he likes my choices.”
“I’m sure he will,” Jules replied, but he said it absently, still wondering if he’d decided on a future with Carlos without even realizing it. “We’ll talk more later, all right?”
“Definitely,” Al replied as he stood up and headed for the door. “Have a good day, Pa! I’ll see you at supper.”
“See you then.”
After Al left, Jules tried to push aside his introspective mood. He wanted badly to talk to Carlos, but he wasn’t exactly certain what he would say. Would it seem strange for him to blurt out that he’d been imagining his future and Carlos was a part of it? Should he do something special, revealing his thoughts over an intimate dinner, if he could find a way to quietly get Al out of the house?
He stood, grabbed one of his crutches, and picked up his coffee cup in his free hand. He carried it to the sink, returned to the table for Al’s cup, then washed the dishes as he thought over how best to tell Carlos of his decision. As he was drying the last plate, however, someone knocked on the door.
“Come in!” he called out. No doubt it was Consuela, who often dropped by once her morning work was done so Jules could tutor her in English.
But it wasn’t Consuela who entered the kitchen. Jules heard the heavy tread of booted feet on the hardwood floors, and when he glanced over at the door, he saw Caleb standing there, his hat in his hands.
“Excuse me for interrupting, Mr. Wingate,” he said. His tone was polite enough, but his blue eyes were stormy. “I’m Caleb Moore. I’d like to talk to you.”
Jules was surprised, but he nodded slowly. “Of course,” he replied. He dried his hands, then gestured to the table. “Why don’t we have a seat?” The younger man was obviously agitated, so Jules thought it best to act as calm as he could.
Caleb put his hat on the table and took a seat, regarding Jules somberly. “I wanted to talk to you about Carlos.”
Jules made his way to the table and dropped into the seat across from Caleb, propping his crutches against it carefully. “What about Mr. Hernandez?”
Caleb fixed Jules with a hard stare. “I know you’re sweet on him, but you need to stay away from him,” he said flatly.
“I beg your pardon?” Jules went cold inside, and he remembered his suspicion that Caleb had been the one watching them on Thanksgiving. Not that he was going to admit anything one way or another to this man, no matter that he obviously shared Jules’s own inclinations. “I don’t believe my relationship with Mr. Hernandez is any of your concern.”
“It is when you’re getting in my way,” Caleb retorted. “He’s gonna be mine soon enough, so you can quit mooning over him.”
Sitting up straight, Jules fixed Caleb with the glare he used when one of his older students tried to intimidate him. He could see now the type of man Caleb was, young and vain and selfish, and he didn’t feel the need to withhold how he felt.
“I assure you I am not mooning over Mr. Hernandez. Nor am I in your way. Mr. Hernandez is quite free to have any relationship he desires with whomever he desires. If you have failed to attract his interest, the fault lies in you, not in anything I have done. I suggest you keep your suppositions to yourself, young man.”
“I seen how you look at him,” Caleb replied, not looking at all cowed. “You keep stringing him along, but you won’t do nothing about it. I would. As long as he thinks you might let him crawl into your bed, he ain’t gonna pay me no mind, so you need to tell him it ain’t gonna happen.”
“You have no idea what you are talking about,” Jules retorted. “Nor do you have the slightest understanding of the relationship between Mr. Hernandez and myself. If he wanted you, he would have accepted your blatant, tactless offer by now, whether I was here or not.” Jules was progressing from annoyed to angry, and he scowled. “This discussion is at an end, Mr. Moore. Please leave. Now.”
“I ain’t done.” Caleb leaned forward. “You’re gonna leave Carlos alone, or I’m gonna start talking. I’ll pay a call on Mr. McManus first. How do you think he’s gonna feel about Al’s pa being queer?”
A huge, hard knot of dread formed in Jules’s gut. He couldn’t believe someone who was also queer would use the threat of exposure against someone who shared his same inclinations. Jules had no reason not to think Caleb might go through with it. Yet he wasn’t going to bow to Caleb’s attempt at intimidation without a fight.
“And how good will your chances be with Carlos if I tell him you are threatening me?” he asked coldly. “As far as the McManus family is concerned, it would be just the word of an itinerant ranch hand against a respected teacher. They might not believe you.” Jules hoped that would be the case, but he was far from certain Mr. McManus would be understanding where a potential scandal involving his daughter was concerned.
“You tell Carlos, and I keep talking to everybody I can find about you and Carlos, maybe even Mr. Porter himself. He’s awful friendly with his foreman, don’t you think?” Caleb leaned back and spread his hands. “Then I can walk away, find a job somewhere else, and ain’t nothing you can do about it.”
Appalled, all Jules could do for several moments was to stare at Caleb in horror. “You wouldn’t,” he said finally, his voice strangled. “You could casually destroy people’s lives, rip them apart, just to have me tell Carlos I don’t want him? What kind of monster are you?”
“I ain’t no monster!” Caleb shook his head, and for the first time, his hard demeanor cracked. “I ain’t never felt about anyone the way I feel about him, and I’d do anything for him. I love him, b
ut he can’t see that because of you!”
Jules didn’t believe Caleb had any concept of what love truly was. This was lust, probably nothing more, but there was an edge of desperation in Caleb’s words that chilled him to the bone. All that mattered was that Caleb believed himself to be in love with Carlos, and that he’d stop at nothing to try to get Carlos to desire him in return.
There was one final thing Jules could try, and he swallowed hard, hoping it would put Caleb off the disastrous course he seemed to be headed down—disastrous for Jules and everyone he cared about. “Even if I turn Carlos away, there’s no guarantee he’ll want you. What then? I will have hurt him and given up what I want for nothing, because you’ll probably tell everyone anyway.”
“Maybe he won’t,” Caleb said, his expression turning bleak, but then he pulled himself up, seeming to rally. “But I think I can make him mine sooner or later. I just need you gone. You get outta my way for good, and I won’t say nothing to no one, no matter what happens with me’n Carlos.”
Jules couldn’t believe this was happening, and it was all the more nightmarish because he had no doubt whatsoever that Carlos would turn Caleb down. He drew in a startled breath, as he realized here was all the proof he needed that he believed in Carlos and believed in Carlos’s love for him: Jules had absolute faith there was nothing Caleb or anyone else could do that would change the fact that Carlos loved Jules alone.
It was a gamble, a horrible, painful gamble, but Jules couldn’t risk Al’s happiness, not to mention everything Matt and Gil had done at Bent Oak. He had to do what he could to get Caleb out of the way, so everyone he cared about would be safe from the threat of a scandal that could ruin all their lives. And he had to trust in Carlos. Had to trust that Carlos’s love for him was strong enough that not only would he refuse Caleb, but Carlos would also find a way to forgive Jules for hurting him.
Drawing in a deep breath, Jules swallowed hard, knowing he needed to be convincing now and not rouse Caleb’s suspicions. “You win,” he said, lowering his gaze to his lap. “I can’t risk everyone’s happiness. I’m not that selfish.” He glanced up again. “But I have to know it’s really not for nothing. Swear you’ll leave Bent Oak for good and never breathe a bad word about anyone here—me or Matt or Gil, or even Carlos. If Carlos wants you, make him take you away from here. And if he doesn’t… leave. Just go away and leave us all alone.”
