by John Inman
It was funny how loneliness had only recently begun creeping in on him. Before, he had always been content leading a secluded life, after that first hormonal splurge of sluttiness in his twenties, which he finally got out of his system by bedding every man he could get his hands on. For a while at least. Before the novelty wore off. And before age began to lessen his appeal.
Through his thirties and half of his forties, Eddie had grown into a proper adult and found himself. Settled into the man he was born to be. And now all he needed was someone to share himself with.
Someone… to love.
Eddie rose and stood naked, arms flung wide, letting the moonlight pour over him like molten silver. Breathing deep, he took in his last taste of night air before heading back to bed. He gazed out across the high surrounding desert, and somewhere out there in the distance he heard the plaintive wail and yip of a coyote. Then, farther off, another. And another. Soon the night was alive with their mournful cries.
Behind him, the dogs in the kennel stirred. He could hear them pacing around, whining a little, disturbed by the wildness of the coyote’s song.
“Hush now,” Eddie said quietly, aiming his voice back at the kennels behind him. Feeling more alone than he had in a long time, Eddie stepped back through the door leading into his kitchen, letting the screen door squeak closed behind him, shutting out the night.
On the couch in the living room, Lucretia was giving Louie another bath. The pup was squirming to get away, but Lucretia held him gently trapped between her paws. The poor little guy was so drenched he looked like he’d fallen in a well.
Eddie smiled down at them for a few seconds, then headed for the stairs and his lonely bed.
It was almost dawn before sleep found him again, and by then Chester was purring in his ear, dropping none-too-subtle hints it was time for breakfast.
Chapter Two
EDDIE TURNED the key in the ignition and started the old Jeep Cherokee with the magnetic sign on the door that read Desert Sky Pet Refuge. The sign cost him a hundred and thirty bucks, which still irked him to this day. It also explained why he didn’t spring for a second sign for the opposite door.
The moment the engine cranked to life, Louie came barreling through the pet door at the back of the house and tumbled head over heels off the back porch steps.
Louie was on solid food now and already growing like a weed. Since this was the beginning of his third week at the refuge, his little legs weren’t nearly as wobbly as they had been when he arrived. He had locked on to Eddie as his lord and master and rarely let him out of his sight, following Eddie around the compound and sticking to him like a leech. He managed to bump friendly noses with the other dogs and a good many of the cats along the way, peed on a bush or two now and then to mark his territory, and pretty much acted cocky and strutted around like he was the alpha male of the entire animal kingdom, from mole rats to rhinos. He was so small, few of the creatures were intimidated by the tiny ball of fluff and energy, but since Louie didn’t know it, it didn’t much matter.
Louie was at that stage of puppyhood where one ear was up and one was down, giving the pup an inquisitive expression that melted Eddie’s heart every time he looked at the little guy. He was also at the stage of development where perpetual motion was the rule of the day. Unless he was asleep, the puppy never stopped. Louie’s bloodlines were still a mystery, and Eddie was beginning to suspect they always would be. His coat was still white, but it had begun to go wiry, sticking up all over the place like Louie had walked into an electric fence. Of course, in Eddie’s loving eyes, it only made the pup cuter.
Lucretia’s constant attention to Louie had eased up a bit. She wasn’t nearly as motherly as she had been at the beginning. She still snatched Louie up in her jaws and carried him onto the sofa for a thorough tongue bath now and then. However, her constant devotion to the pup’s every need, and the constant battle to keep Louie safe from his own reckless meanderings, had apparently frayed Lucretia’s last nerve. The puppy was a handful—there were no two ways about it. Eddie suspected Louie had simply worn Lucretia out. A three-legged babysitter wasn’t sufficiently mobile for the job. Louie needed a sitter with six or seven legs and maybe an outboard motor to keep up with him.
Eddie sat in the Cherokee, snickering silently to himself as Louie squirmed his way out of the dirt and clambered to his feet, shaking his head and looking around. He finally spotted Eddie through the car window, and with a merry yip, took off running straight for him. Eddie snorted back a laugh when the pup stood at the side of the Jeep and rose up on his back legs, waving his front paws around, begging to be taken inside. In the distance, he saw Lucretia standing at the kitchen door watching. Was it his imagination, or did she have a disgusted look on her face?
Knowing he was being an enabler, and helpless to do anything about it, Eddie gave her a helpless shrug and popped the car door open. Unstrapping the seat belt, he leaned out and scooped Louie up onto his lap. The pup clawed a path up his chest and perched on his shoulder, staring forward as if to say, “I’m ready, let’s go.”
So Eddie nudged the Jeep into gear and went. As he pulled out of the driveway, he glanced in his rearview mirror just in time to see Lucretia drag herself back through the pet door and into the house. Probably to take a nap, poor thing.
“You’re wearing everybody out,” Eddie said to the pup.
Louie responded by nibbling his earlobe and licking his cheek. Eddie smiled, the pup wiggled its butt in bliss, and the old Jeep Cherokee rumbled on down the gravel road, heading for Spangle.
Spangle, California, wasn’t much more than a pimple on the side of a mountain that was so small it didn’t even have a name. Out in the high desert, four miles farther into the California outback than Eddie’s refuge, Spangle boasted a diner, an apple-pie factory, a touristy visitor center that always looked abandoned, a snake museum—also for the tourists, what few there were—a general store for the housewives, a feed store for the farmers, a one-story cinder block grade school for the kiddies, and a hardware store for pretty much everybody else.
Eddie had spent several years of his life working the loading dock out back and tending the counter at Spangle’s Hardware, fetching nuts and bolts, demonstrating power tools, and wishing for a better life. Well, as far as he was concerned, he had the better life now, and he didn’t miss selling bug killer and ratchet sets one little bit.
Ruth and Tommy Wilson had owned the hardware store for three decades. Neither was under seventy. And whether they were actually under eighty was a matter of considerable discussion. Not by them, of course, but by everybody else. Eddie had spent four years waiting for Tommy to poke around through the stacks, myopically trying to locate whatever it was the customer had requested. After that, he stopped asking Tommy for help. Instead, he abandoned the cash register and went off in search of what was needed all by himself. Tommy rarely noticed. He was too busy sitting on a barrel, chewing tobacco and spitting the juice into an old Dixie cup, while swapping stories with one of his cronies, each and every one of whom were as old and addled as Tommy.
Ruth Wilson was as scrawny as a turkey carcass three weeks after Thanksgiving, and Tommy was as round as his wife was thin. He carried his belly out in front of him with ponderous dignity, like he was rather proud of the extra tonnage.
Even so, aside from the sheer boredom of the job, Eddie had liked working for Ruth and Tommy Wilson. They had been good to him, and he had been swamped in guilt the day he told them he was leaving. They informed him he was crazy, of course. To their way of thinking, anybody who would quit a nice, cushy job to start up a business that found homes for stray pussycats was a durn fool. Quote, unquote. They also told him he’d return within a month, begging for his old job. With a wink behind Tommy’s back, Ruth let him know they’d be more than happy to give it to him when he did.
But Eddie hadn’t asked for his old job back. In fact, the Desert Sky Pet Refuge had been teetering on the brink of solvency for a couple of years now, and Eddie c
ouldn’t have been happier.
As if not coming hat in hand, begging to be rehired, wasn’t enough to make him happy, Eddie had even coaxed eighty dollars out of Ruth to adopt a cagy old tabby mouser named Felix to keep the rats out of the store. Sort of a sublime comeuppance, that. Eddie still chuckled now and then when he thought about it.
As soon as Eddie parked out front and set Louie at his feet to tag along, Felix came running to meet them at the door of the hardware store, long before the half-deaf proprietors ever knew they were there. When Eddie stepped in off the street with his tiny entourage, the bell over the door finally alerted the owners to his presence.
The first thing out of Tommy Wilson’s mouth when he spotted Eddie and Louie and Felix weaving their way through the narrow aisles was, “We don’t need no blasted dog too, durn you! I’m still having to feed that mangy cat! Whoever heard of anybody paying eighty dollars for a cat, I ask you? And it wasn’t even a new cat! It was used! And it still hasn’t caught a single fucking rat!”
Ruth poked her head up from behind the counter and reached out to slap her husband’s arm. “Oh, hush up your cussin’. He ain’t come to sell us no dog. Good grief, go get that hacksaw I asked you for. The customer called and said he’d be in soon to pick it up.”
Tommy arthritically climbed off the discount barrel filled with odds and ends they couldn’t unload any other way and bent himself into the shape of a question mark. That was as upright as he could ever get. Once he was sure he wouldn’t fall flat on his face, he shuffled off, grumbling. Ruth laughed softly to herself, watching him go. When she and Eddie were alone, she bent down to pat Louie’s head while Louie was in the act of trying to unlace her orthopedic shoes.
Ruth plopped back down onto a three-legged stool behind the counter and grinned at the tiny pup. “Ain’t you a heartbreaker now,” she crooned. Louie wagged his tail to let her know he most certainly was.
Finally Ruth lifted her gaze to Eddie. “It’s good to see you, honey. Are you needing something or have you stopped by to visit?”
Eddie smiled back. “Me and Louie are just visiting mostly, although I did want to see if my fencing wire had come in yet. If it has, I can get started on that new dog run out back.”
Ruth lifted Louie and planted a kiss on his nose. She tucked the wiggling pup under her chin. “Another dog run, huh? Business must be booming. Well, as a matter of fact, the wire came in yesterday. I was about to call and tell you. Guess you saved me the trouble. It’s out back. Gray will help you load it up.”
“Gray?” Eddie asked. “Who’s Gray?”
Ruth gave him a sly wink. “Gray Grissom. Your replacement.”
Eddie laughed. “My replacement? I haven’t worked here for years!”
“Exactly. We didn’t want just anyone. We waited for the right worker to come along. Go on back and meet him. You’ll like him, I bet.” And oddly, she shot him another wink.
“Well, now I’m curious,” Eddie mumbled, as much to himself as to her.
“You run along,” Ruth said, turning her attention back to the pup in her arms. “Me and Louie will get to know each other. Felix has worms, by the way. Next time you come by, bring me some of that worm medicine you sell. And I’ll let you feed it to him too. Last time I tried to medicate the old rascal, he skinned me up good.”
“Will do,” Eddie said, barely listening.
“Thanks for the undivided attention,” Ruth said, sarcastic to the core.
Eddie stopped and gazed back at her. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
She laughed and waved him off. “Go meet Gray. Then come back and tell me what you think of him.”
“What I think of…?”
The old lady slapped her knee with impatience. “Oh, good grief, Eddie Hightower, quit stalling! Just go and say hello to the poor man. He won’t bite you.” One old eyebrow shot up into her snow-white, freshly permed hairline. “Leastways not till the two of you get to know each other better. And be gentle with him. He’s a little shy.”
Eddie blinked in confusion. “Huh? Why wouldn’t I be gentle?”
But Ruth had turned her full attention to Louie. She pretty much had to, since Louie had taken the opportunity to try to stick his tongue down her throat.
Eddie gave his head an exasperated shake and took off toward the loading dock at the back of the store. Along the way, he crossed paths with old Tommy, who was once again sitting on the bin of marked-down items, sound asleep. He had clearly forgotten all about the hacksaw his wife had sent him to fetch. Rather than wake him up, Eddie grabbed a hacksaw off a shelf of tools and carried it back to Ruth, who was still playing with the pup.
She eyed the hacksaw as if she expected nothing less. “He’s asleep, I’m guessing.”
Eddie grinned. “Sawing logs on the markdown bin. Should I slap a price tag on him?”
Ruth snorted. “Who’d pay for that old goat?” Smiling again, she tilted her head toward the back. “Gray,” she said. “Go meet him. He’d probably help you build your new kennel if you ask him. He’s right handy with a hammer, and God knows you ain’t.”
Eddie sighed. She was right. Eddie was no carpenter. “An extra pair of hands would make the job a lot easier, I have to admit.” He cocked an eyebrow high. “Say, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were up to something.”
Ruth’s old eyes went round with innocence. “Who, me?” With that, she went back to tickling Louie, who was having such a good time he was dribbling urine in the old woman’s lap, not that she’d noticed it yet.
Eddie wandered off toward the back again, shaking his head and tiptoeing past Tommy so he wouldn’t wake him up. He stepped through the sliding doors that looked out onto the loading dock and spotted the new helper grunting a ninety-pound sack of dry cement into a truck bed. His features were so screwed up in agony, he looked like he was having a root canal without the benefit of Novocain.
“Need a hand?” Eddie asked, hopping down off the loading dock. Before the man could answer, Eddie took one end of the bag of cement mix, and between the two of them they manhandled it into the truck. When they were finished, Eddie stepped away and rubbed his back. “I’d almost forgotten how heavy those things are.”
Gray stood, wiping his hands on his pant legs while a blush flooded his cheeks. “Thanks,” he said. A lazy grin lit his face. “I was about to pop a gut.”
Eddie grinned back. For the first time, he really studied the man in front of him.
Gray Grissom was tall and lean and appeared to be in his midtwenties. His whole demeanor was a little frayed around the edges, as if he knew a thing or two about disappointment. Still, the muscles in his arms were nicely etched, and his chest was broad enough to make Eddie suspect there were some proper pecs under the old wrinkled work shirt he wore. Especially since the work shirt was soaked with sweat and those pecs were outlined pretty well already.
But it was the face and the eyes that really grabbed Eddie’s attention. The eyes were on him now. Not in an overt way, but giving Eddie the once-over in a sort of melancholy, disinterested reconnaissance. Strangely, those somber eyes were perfect for the man. They were gray. As gray as the name. Surrounded by blond lashes and golden skin, Eddie had never in his life seen a pair of eyes as heart-stopping as the ones he looked into now.
Gray’s hair was streaked by the sun, more blond than brown. He wore it long enough to touch his collar but not quite long enough to cover those incredible eyes. The burnished locks shifted in the wind coming off the mountain behind them. Truth be told, Gray Grissom desperately needed a haircut, but Eddie couldn’t fault him for that. He needed one too. Gray’s left earlobe had been pierced at some time or other, but today he wore no ring in it. The hole was conspicuously empty. Eddie wondered why.
The new clerk’s pants were baggy, his shoes dusty, and sprinkles of hay littered the hair on his forearms. He must have loaded some bales for one of the farmers, a job Eddie used to hate when he worked there. It always left him itchy for the rest
of the day.
They continued to stare at each other until Eddie finally kicked himself into action. He poked out a hand and said, “I’m Eddie Hightower. I used to have your job.”
A dimple flashed in Gray’s left cheek. “You want it back?”
“Heck no.” Eddie laughed.
Only then did Gray Grissom take Eddie’s hand and pump it up and down a couple of times.
Eddie enjoyed the firm grip and the heat of Gray’s palm pressed into his. He studied the young face more closely. “Ruth told me you were shy, but I don’t see much sign of it.”
At that, Gray hauled out a 1000-watt smile, unrestrained and uninhibited. “I love that woman!” he announced with a laugh.
Eddie nodded. “I know. She’s great. How do you feel about Tommy?”
A sudden furrow creased Gray’s forehead. “Why? Where is he?”
“Sound asleep on the discount barrel, snoring like a camel.”
“Good. Best place for him really.”
Eddie and Gray laughed in unison. Eddie wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe the two of them had bonded a bit, maybe even taken a step or two toward an easygoing friendship.
Suddenly Eddie was flooded with curiosity. He knew every single soul in Spangle, and Gray Grissom wasn’t one of them. So where had he come from? How and why did he end up here at the ass end of the universe? How old was he exactly? How did he feel about animals? What were his proclivities in the sexual arena? Gay? Straight? Ambivalent? None of Eddie’s fucking business?
Before he could start an inquisition, Gray got all businesslike and asked, “Was there something you needed?”
Eddie almost slapped himself in the head. “Chicken wire. I came for some chicken wire.”
“Oh yeah. You’re the one. Ruth told me. I’ve got it right over here.”
Eddie followed Gray across the potholed driveway to a corner of the lot where an old shed stood. The shed was built around creosoted poles and nailed over with corrugated tin. Eddie remembered that on rainy days the shed made such a racket you couldn’t hear yourself think.
