Colin and Martin's Christmas Collection Box Set

by Drew Hunt

  * * * *

  “Would you two blokes like a look around the station?” Bruce asked the next morning. “Oh, shit, sorry mate.”

  Martin smiled and went through the usual explanation of how blind people used the word ‘see’ all the time.

  “Yeah, if I’d thought about it more I’d have realised that. Sorry, mate. I didn’t want to offend.”

  Martin’s left hand, which was resting on the table, was given a quick squeeze. Bruce was quite touchy-feely, as was Matt. Martin wondered if it was an Australian thing.

  “We’d love to take a look around. If you can spare the time,” Colin said.

  “No worries. Not that there’s a lot to see actually,” Bruce faltered, but an encouraging smile from Martin had him continuing. “The land around here is fairly featureless. And once you’ve seen one sheep…”

  “You’ve seen them all,” Martin chuckled.

  It seemed Matt had got up early to check out a report of dingoes in one of the pastures. Bruce explained that wild dogs were the bane of a sheep farmer’s life.

  Martin didn’t want to think about what would happen to the wild dogs if Matt found them, so decided to change the subject. “How many people live and work here?”

  “At the minute it’s just me, Matt, Mum, and Joe.” Joe was a jackaroo they’d met the previous evening. “We’ve got a couple of hands, but Matt gave ’em some time off so they could take their wives to spend Chrissy with their families in Broken Hill.”

  Bruce went on to explain that Joe, being single, had a small house close to the homestead, but the two station hands and their wives—neither man had any children—lived in rented accommodation in Walleroo, a village about ten kilometres away.

  “More scrambled eggs, love? And you’ve hardly touched your bacon,” Nance fussed.

  “No thanks, Nance, I’m fine, honest.” Martin felt guilty at having to refuse most of the housekeeper’s offers of food—she believed in huge portions. She was somewhat mollified when he went on to praise her scrambled eggs as being the lightest he’d ever tasted.

  “It’s all in the wrist action.” She laughed, which brought on a fit of coughing.

  “Mum, you need to go see Doc Harrison about that. It isn’t getting any better.”

  “It’s just a tickle. It’ll go away when it’s ready. And that old quack, what the heck does he know anyway?” Nance replied.

  “He knows plenty. I’ll ring the surgery in a minute. They might be able to see you before Chrissy.”

  Nance harrumphed, but Martin knew Bruce had got his way.

  The conversation moved on to the size of Matt’s sheep station, Martin finding it impossible to get his mind around the figures Bruce quoted.

  “Uncle Matt said you have about ten thousand sheep. Wow!” Colin put in.

  “We have to have so many because the price of wool is piss poor at the moment.”

  “Don’t bloody swear,” Martin heard Nance say, followed by a light thwack, most likely from Nance’s spatula.

  “Sorry, Mum.”

  “They’re merino sheep, aren’t they?” Martin asked, already knowing the answer, but he felt the need to move the conversation on.

  “Yeah, mate, that’s right.”

  Martin recalled a holiday to Spain when he’d been little. His mother had dragged them to the bedding factory that produced all manner of merino wool items. He could still remember how soft it all felt, but the prices had put his parents off and they’d ended up just buying a couple of pillows which his mum and dad had kept on their bed.

  “Do you want to wait for Matt to get back before you look round the station, or do you want to go now?” Bruce asked once they’d finished breakfast.

  “Whatever’s easiest for you,” Colin told him.

  “I think we should go now before it gets too hot.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Martin smiled.

  Martin felt Colin nudge him under the table. The previous night as they’d lain in bed Martin had mused about how great it would be if the two men groaning and grunting in the next room were a proper couple rather than just fuck buddies. Martin had suggested he should get Bruce alone so he could indicate that Matt would probably be receptive to Bruce’s romantic overtures should Bruce be interested. However, Colin had told Martin to forget the idea, Matt and Bruce were none of their business.

  “Meet you outside in say, fifteen?” Bruce suggested.

  “Okay, but we’ll need to borrow boots if you have them in our sizes,” Colin said.

  “Boots?” Bruce asked, sounding confused.

  “Riding boots,” Martin clarified.

  Bruce and Nance started laughing.

  “We have a couple of horses in the barn but we don’t use them to get around on.” Bruce continued to chuckle. “We use motorbikes, four-wheelers or the ute.”

  “Bloody poms,” Nance said before she started coughing.

  “Sorry,” Colin said. “We didn’t think. I suppose the distances involved would make using horses impractical. I just pictured sheep herders riding around on horseback surveying their flocks. I guess that’s an old stereotype.”

  “Yeah,” Bruce said. “Just as it’s always foggy or raining in Britain.”

  “Always is in the films,” Nance added.

  “And if you believe the TV shows everyone here has a pet kangaroo or wombat,” Colin chuckled.

  * * * *

  “Can we have a closer look at one of those windmills?” Colin asked from beside Martin in the cab of the ute.

  Martin was glad when Bruce agreed; he’d grown tired of being driven along bumpy dirt tracks. Although he didn’t usually suffer from car sickness, he felt himself becoming nauseous. However, as soon as the ute’s doors opened the wall of heat hit Martin, making him rethink his earlier willingness to escape the cab.

  As they walked, Martin told Bruce he’d heard that Australians used windmills to pump water for irrigation.

  “They work well and don’t need a lot of maintenance.”

  “There’s a ladder. Okay if I climb up?” Colin asked once they’d gotten out of the ute.

  “So long as you don’t tell Matt. He’d have my hide if anything happened to his nephew,” Bruce said.

  “Be careful,” Martin said automatically.

  “I’ll be careful.”

  Martin assumed the comment was meant for the pair of them. He smiled, realising he could talk with Bruce about…

  “And while I’m gone my husband can quiz you about your love life.”

  “Huh?” Bruce asked.

  Colin gave Martin a one-armed hug. “I told him not to, but he never listens to me. You see, Martin here is quite the romantic. At home his computer is loaded with hundreds of stories about men finding love with other men.”

  “Colin!” Martin protested. “I don’t have that many.”

  “Yeah, right. Well anyway, Mr Matchmaker here thought he’d try and create a happy ever after for you and Uncle Matt.”

  “Huh?” Bruce repeated.

  Martin wanted the ground to swallow him up. Yes, he was going to bring up the subject with Bruce, but in his own way. “It’s just…” Martin swallowed. “There’s you and there’s Matt, you’re both gay, and…” he dried up.

  “And as one and one make two…you and Uncle Mat should be a couple, or so Martin thinks.”

  Martin dug his husband in the ribs. “Shut up.” Colin was deliberately trying to embarrass him.

  “Has Matt said anything?” Bruce asked.

  Martin was expecting him to be angry, or at the very least tell them to mind their own business. So he was momentarily wrong-footed. “Uh, not in so many words, but…” Rallying, he continued, “You yourself said last night that you don’t spend that much time in your room, and…”

  “Uncle Matt has said that he likes you and thinks a lot about you.” Colin added.

  “Wow,” Bruce said.

  “And, uh, I think you like Matt,” Martin went on.

  “Yeah, but…I�
�m too young for him, and….”

  “He probably thinks he’s too old for you,” Martin said, wiping his face with an already damp handkerchief. “But let me ask you this. Do you think you’re too young for him?”

  “No.” The answer was immediate. “I like older men. They’re stable, settled, strong.”

  Martin smiled. “Know what you mean. Although Colin isn’t much older than me, he has all those qualities you mentioned. It must be something in the Rogers’ genes…his dad, Harry, is just the same.”

  Colin snorted.

  Martin took a step forward. “Bruce, can you guide me to that ladder, I want to climb the windmill.”

  Immediately Martin was grabbed from behind. “No fucking way!” Colin growled.

  Martin smiled. “See what I mean?”

  Bruce chuckled, then sighed. “You two are so lucky. Having each other and everything.”

  “You could have it, too,” Martin couldn’t help himself from adding.

  “It’s not that simple,” Bruce mumbled. “Matt’s never said anything more than, ‘good job, mate.’”

  “You ever thought he’s as scared as you about verbalising his feelings?”

  “Martin, that’s enough now.”

  “Don’t you have a windmill to climb?”

  Colin sighed in resignation and Bruce chuckled before growing serious.

  “I have a lot to lose if he…if he doesn’t want to make what we have more…formal.”

  “You’ve got a lot to gain,” Martin persisted.

  “It’s not that simple,” Bruce repeated. “If he…if things go wrong with Matt I could lose my job, my mum’s job, our home, my best friend, my…”

  “Uncle Matt won’t kick you out,” Colin insisted.

  “Maybe not, but it’d be bloody awkward working with him if—”

  Martin thought he’d try and get his own back on Colin. “You could come and live in the UK with us.” He smiled. “I like cowboys.” He felt Colin stiffen. “I have a lot of romance books on my computer about cowboys.”

  Turning around in the man’s arms Martin found Colin’s lips and kissed him. Running his hands down Colin’s arms, he said, “I was joking. You’re more than enough hunk for me.”

  Colin kissed him back. “Thanks, love.”

  Bruce made a gagging noise. “Don’t you two ever give up with the lovey-dovey stuff?”

  Martin turned around again and leaned into Colin’s solid bulk. “We couldn’t do anything last night because, uh, the walls are pretty thin in the homestead, and we could hear you and Matt, uh…”

  “Martin!” Colin admonished.

  “Sorry.”

  “Maybe it’s time I climbed that tower,” Colin said, releasing Martin.

  “Be careful,” Martin told him again.

  “Always.” Colin kissed Martin’s cheek.

  “You two are great,” Bruce said a minute or so later.

  “He’s my…everything.” Martin sniffed. “This place,” Martin waved a hand around, “is pretty barren, right?”

  “Well, sort of. It’s not as bad as in the outback.”

  “But if the ute was to break down or something and you were on your own, you’d survive, right?”

  “Guess so, if I had regular access to water. But we always carry plenty of that on the station’s vehicles.”

  Martin nodded, he’d drunk more water the past couple of days than he thought he ever had. “I wouldn’t survive. If Colin was to walk away and leave me here—not that he would of course—I’d die what with the heat, no food or water.” Martin shuddered. “If he was to walk away when we were in the middle of town and I didn’t have Seth, my guide dog, I’d be in serious trouble. I depend on Colin for so much, it’s scary sometimes.”

  “But he’d never walk away,” Bruce insisted.

  Martin shook his head. “No. But that’s the level of trust I have in him. I’m not saying you and Matt need that…I guess what I’m saying is, partnerships come in different forms. Mine and Colin’s is really strong. Yours and Matt’s might be as strong, but in a different way.”

  “I hope so,” Bruce whispered.

  “Hey, you can see for miles up here,” Colin called out.

  “Can you see our house in Yorkshire?”

  “You daft bugger!” Colin said. Then he let out a yell which froze Martin’s blood.

  Bruce laughed. “He’s pulling your leg, mate. He’s perfectly all right.”

  “He won’t be when I get my hands on him,” Martin yelled upward.

  Bruce squeezed Martin’s shoulder. “You two.”

  “Is he on his way down yet?”

  “Not yet. He’s still looking around. You really can see for a long way from up there. Oh, sorry.”

  Martin shook his head. “Bruce, it’s okay.”

  “I know. I’ll get used to it soon.”

  “Can I see the windmill?” Martin asked, holding up his hands to demonstrate what he meant.

  “Sure, mate. I’ll take your arm and—”

  Martin explained how it was easier and safer for him to take Bruce’s arm, and what a strong, muscular arm it was, too.

  The ground changed from grass to concrete, Bruce explaining it was part of the windmill’s foundations.

  “Here we are.”

  Bruce took Martin’s hand and placed it on a rough strip of folded metal, Martin recognising it as an angle iron. With his other hand Martin explored, but found empty air.

  “I thought it would be a building…you know, solid.”

  “Nah, mate it’s an open structure, just a skeleton.” Bruce went on to explain about how windmills were constructed and the size and number of blades. “The more blades the less wind you need to push ’em round, and we don’t get that much wind here.”

  Martin heard Colin approach, then felt a reassuring arm wrap around him.

  “Missed me?” Colin breathed in Martin’s ear before kissing it.

  “No.” But Martin was smiling. “What shape is the tower?” he asked Bruce.

  “Have you ever seen a picture of the Eiffel Tower?”

  Martin shook his head.

  “Shit, I’ve gone and put my foot in it again,” Bruce groaned.

  “No you haven’t,” Martin insisted. “You weren’t to know I’ve been blind since birth. But I’ve felt a model of the Eiffel Tower, so I know what you mean.”

  “Thanks. The Eiffel Tower has four legs, this one has three. And it’s a lot shorter of course.”

  Martin wiped at his brow and pulled his T-shirt away from his body.

  “Hot?” Colin asked.

  Martin nodded.

  “It’s surprising how hot the sun gets, especially if you’re not used to it,” Bruce added.

  “Want to get back in the truck?” Colin asked. “You’re looking a bit red. Told you to put on more sun tan lotion.”

  “Thanks. I didn’t realise how strong the sun would be.” Martin automatically found Colin’s elbow.

  As they walked back to the vehicle, Colin and Bruce discussed the Australian climate and how weird it felt for someone from the Northern Hemisphere to have it so hot in late December.

  “I’d think it was weird if it was cold at Chrissy,” Bruce said, starting the engine.

  “Like I said, you could always come and live with us and…Ouch!” Martin yelped when Colin dug him in the ribs.

  “Just you wait until I get you back to the homestead,” Colin whispered in Martin’s ear, making him shiver in anticipation.

  “Nah, mate, I’m an Aussie.” Bruce said, seemingly unaware of Colin’s threat. “I’d wither up in your cold and damp climate. Besides, I couldn’t drink that warm shit you lot call beer.”

  “Better than that wallaby piss you Aussies drink,” Colin immediately replied.

  Martin and Bruce laughed.

  “Want to check out the shearing shed next?” Bruce asked.

  “Yeah, okay,” Martin replied, although he was secretly hoping they’d be heading back. Then he got an i
dea. “Maybe we should go back to the homestead. I need the loo.”

  “There’s dunnies in the shearing shed, and it’s a lot closer. The shearers’ union made all the graziers provide facilities for the workers.”

  “Okay.” Martin sank back against Colin, who chuckled.

  * * * *

  “Wow, it’s huge,” Colin said, seeing the shearing shed come into view as they crested a hill.

  “Needs to be,” Bruce told him.

  As they drew nearer, Colin described the single-storey metal-sided building to Martin.

  “The facilities are over here,” Bruce said once they’d entered the cavernous interior. “Do you need a hand?”

  Colin felt himself bristle, but quashed it. Bruce hadn’t meant anything by his comment. He opened his mouth to speak, but Martin beat him to it.

  “No, it’s okay. If you get me to the door and then describe the layout I can manage.”

  Once Martin was behind the door Bruce put a hand on Colin’s shoulder. “You’re a lucky bastard, having someone like Martin totally trust you.”

  Colin nodded. “He thinks he’s a burden but he gives so much of himself it’s an equal partnership.”

  “I can see that.” Bruce sighed.

  “What Martin said…about you and Uncle Matt. He’s right you know.”

  Bruce shook his head. “I don’t think Matt’s interested in a commitment…I think something happened in his past that’s made him leery of settling down.”

  Colin suspected as much, too. Martin knew what it was but wouldn’t tell Colin.

  “Uncle Matt’s a very private man, you know that better than me, but one thing I am sure of, if he didn’t like you, then you wouldn’t be working for him, sharing his house or his…bed.”

  Bruce laughed. “We have no problem in the bedroom, that’s for sure. It’s outside of it that things aren’t as clear cut.”

  “You’ll just have to talk to him, let him know how you feel. I don’t know, maybe he thinks you don’t want any more than what you two have now, so he’s willing to settle for that because it’s better than nothing.” Colin wished he and Martin hadn’t started this.

  They heard a flush.

  “Col, how, uh.” Bruce ducked his head. “I shouldn’t ask this, and I’d never ask him, but how does Martin, uh, use the dunnie?”