by Beth Manz
"I whacked him with one of the tent poles," Stephen said sheepishly. "It was an accident," he added as an afterthought.
Jim's gaze shifted to his brother, who stood on the other side of the half-finished tent. "Well, I didn't think you'd hit him on purpose." Satisfied the damage was just superficial, Jim released Blair. "You're okay?" he asked, looking into his eyes.
"I'm fine," he said reassuringly.
Jim nodded, his gaze sweeping the area. "Okay, you Boy Scout rejects," he said dryly, "Let's see if we can get this other tent up without causing any additional bodily harm."
/
/
/
Blair lay awake, his unblinking gaze focused on the roof of the small tent. A merging of painful sensations washed through him--anger, hurt, sadness, fear--the same emotions that had been haunting him since he'd overheard William's comments at the loft. Only now, regret had been added into the mix... I wish I had never come on this camping trip.
He swallowed against the swell of emotions and purposely turned his attention to the soothing sound of the wind. Ever since he and Naomi had visited the flat, seemingly endless plains of Nebraska when he was a child, he had loved to listen to the wind blowing. He and his mother had stayed at an uncle's farm, tucked away at night in an upstairs bedroom. The two of them had nestled together beneath a pile of homemade quilts as the wind whined and whirled its way around the sturdy farmhouse, the sound of it lulling them to sleep night after night...
He closed his eyes and concentrated on the gusts that pushed stubbornly at the sides of the tent, causing the nylon fabric to billow then recoil back into place with a sharp, snapping sound. He listened for several moments, finding familiar comfort in the wind, in the realization that he and Jim were tucked safely within the shelter of the tent, warm and secure in their sleeping bags.
The two men had retired well over an hour ago, but Blair had been unable to fall asleep. He didn't know if Jim was sleeping or not, had been afraid to disturb him in case he was. From time to time he'd been able to hear William and Stephen's muted voices as they conversed quietly in their tent just a few feet away, and he had wondered what they were talking about... Me? My involvement with Jim? He had, after a time, decided it was better that he not know and had stopped trying to listen.
Blair turned his head and gazed over at his partner, who lay only inches away from him. The full moon was bright and cast enough illumination through the thin fabric of the tent to bathe the interior in a soft, soothing light. Blair could easily distinguish Jim's outline--the sentinel lay on his back, the strong facial features cast in perfect profile against the backdrop of the tent side. Jim's chest rose and fell softly with each breath he took and, if Blair listened closely between gusts of wind, he could hear the sound of Jim's gentle breathing.
He bit back a frustrated sigh as he watched his partner. He hated to think that he might be a stumbling block in Jim's path toward continued reconciliation with his father. The rejection William had cast Blair's way was sharp and painful, but it paled in comparison to the thought that he might be hindering Jim in the rebuilding of his relationship with his dad.
Was what William had said the truth? Am I in the way? Should I leave? If I don't, will Jim ever have a relationship with his father?
He swallowed against a sudden rush of emotions. Leaving Jim... leaving the loft... That wasn't something he thought about much. His place in the loft--and at Jim's side--had become second nature. It just was. Leaving their home--leaving Jim--wasn't something he wanted to do.
But... maybe I should. Maybe I'll have to.
His attention was caught by a small rustling sound, and he looked over to see Jim shifting onto his side. The sentinel faced him but didn't speak, and Blair held his breath, wondering if Jim was awake. If he was awake, then did he know he was upset? Most likely so. Jim could hear everything--the slightest change in Blair's heart rate, the smallest nuance in his breathing. He probably--
"Sandburg, why are you still awake?" Jim asked softly, cutting into Blair's thoughts.
Blair let out a long breath. "Sorry, Jim. I didn't mean to wake you."
"I didn't say you woke me. I asked why you're still awake."
Blair hesitated, unsure what to say. He finally settled on... "I just can't sleep, man."
There was another rustle of fabric and he saw Jim push himself up on one elbow. The sentinel peered over at him and there was a moment of silence in which Blair knew he was being scrutinized. "You all right? Is your head bothering you?"
Blair hesitated for the briefest of moments. "No, I'm fine," he whispered back. Jim was silent for another long moment and Blair could almost sense his friend tensing, could almost see his brow creasing in concern.
"Come on, Chief. Tell me what's wrong..." Jim's voice was tinged with concern, but there was no mistaking the silent command that ran beneath the words. Jim wanted to know what was bothering Blair, and no tap-dancing around the situation would be tolerated.
Blair sighed deeply and flopped onto his back. Turning his head, he looked over at Jim, fully aware that the sentinel could see him just as clearly as if they were standing in full daylight. "I shouldn't be here, Jim," he admitted softly. "I should have stayed at home. I mean, you haven't zoned all day and if you did zone, it would be because I'm here making things tense." He sighed deeply. "I'm just making everyone uncomfortable."
"That's not true," Jim answered softly. The detective shifted again and leaned over, closer to Blair. "First, whether I need you or not doesn't matter. I wanted you to come. I was disappointed when you said you were staying behind. And second, you are not making everyone uncomfortable, my father is. He's bullied his way through his entire life and people have let him. I've let him. But not this time."
"But he doesn't want me here..."
"Did you hear anything I said?" Jim whispered out fiercely. "I want you here. And so does Stephen." Blair felt Jim's hand come to rest against his arm for a brief moment, then the warm touch was gone. "And that's the end of it, so stop worrying."
Blair rubbed at tired eyes. "Jim, I had no idea how uncomfortable this would be. I mean, I've been out with you guys tons of times and it was always fine. I thought if I came, your dad would lighten up. But he hasn't. Not at all." He shifted, curling onto his side again, facing his partner. "Your dad will hardly look at me, and when he does it's with contempt. And conversation?" He let out a breath of disdain. "Non-existent, man! He resents the fact that I said I wasn't going then changed my mind. That's obvious."
Jim exhaled a deep sigh--a long, weary sound. "I know, buddy, and I'm sorry. I've tried to talk with him, but he won't listen. But that doesn't change the fact that you have every right to be here. He's the one with the problem, Chief, not you."
Blair remained silent. He knew Jim was probably right--that it was William who had the problem. But even that realization didn't change the fact that Blair felt immensely uncomfortable beneath William's disapproving gaze, that he felt like he was walking on eggshells in the man's presence...
"Did you hear me?" Jim prompted, jarring him from his thoughts. There was an underlying trace of affectionate humor in Jim's voice, and Blair found himself smiling in spite of the circumstances.
"Yeah," he said in mock exasperation. "I heard you."
Jim's reached over and tapped him playfully on the forehead. "Good," the sentinel said as he lay down again. "Now I want you to stop worrying and let me handle my dad. Okay?"
Blair smiled. "Yeah. Okay."
"Besides," Jim continued, "If you weren't here I'd be stuck in this tent all by myself, just like I always used to be when I camped with Dad and Stephen. It's much more fun when I have you here with me. Gives me someone to pick on."
"Oh, thanks," Blair said, laughing lightly. "Glad I can provide such comedy relief for you." He quieted, then, as a thought occurred to him. "Jim, why were you by yourself when you guys used to camp? Didn't your dad bring a big enough tent for all three of you?"
Again,
he heard Jim sigh. "No. My dad always brought two two-man tents. He and Stephen would take one and I would be stuck in the other one."
"He made you stay alone? You were just a kid. Why didn't he take the tent alone and let you and Stephen bunk together?"
"I don't know, Sandburg," Jim answered, and Blair could hear a slight tinge of bitterness beneath the words. "Maybe he thought being alone would make a man of me. Or maybe it was just another attempt to erect walls between Stephen and me." Blair saw Jim shake his head against his pillow. "I don't know what he was thinking, and I really don't care anymore. But all my memories of camping were of being alone in my tent at night. It's just nice to have a bunk mate... even if he does snore..."
Blair laughed. "Hey, man, I do not snore. And even if I did--which I don't--you could always dial it down."
"The dial doesn't go that low, Sandburg."
"Oh, very funny," he ground out sarcastically, pleased at the sound of Jim's answering chuckle.
The two men fell silent, the quiet deep and comfortable, accompanied only by the blowing wind and the rustling of the tent fabric. Blair peered over at his partner, trying to see if he had fallen asleep, but even in the relative darkness of the tent, he could tell that Jim's eyes were still open... and his head was cocked in that distinctive position that always indicated he was listening to something...
"Stop it," he whispered as he realized what Jim was doing.
"What?" the sentinel shot back innocently.
"You're listening to your brother and father. Stop it."
"I heard our names. I just want to know what they're saying."
"Well, I don't," Blair said with finality. Rolling on his side, facing away from Jim, he reached down and pulled his sleeping bag up around his neck. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it isn't good and I don't want to know about it."
"Then I just won't tell you, okay?"
"No, Jim," Blair replied, "It's not okay. I'll be able to tell what they're saying by the look on your face."
"You can't see my face, Sandburg."
"Small detail." Looking over his shoulder, Blair said, "Seriously, Jim. I don't want to know what they're saying."
Jim was silent for a moment, then he whispered, "No, you don't want to know." His head was still cocked as though he was listening to the conversation in the other tent, but his words held a barely restrained tinge of amusement.
"What?" Blair asked, suddenly intrigued. "What is it?"
"Well I only heard a snatch of the conversation, but I think my dad expects you to quiet down over here or he's going to ask me to kick you out and make you go sleep with the bears."
Blair rolled his eyes at Jim's obvious teasing. "You're a riot, man." He shifted back onto his side, facing away from Jim again. "You should do a comedy routine at the next police talent show."
Jim chuckled, nestling down into his own sleeping bag before reaching over and briefly laying a hand against the top of Blair's head. "Get some rest, Chief." His voice had become soft and soothing, serious. "You can't change my dad, and you just have to trust that things will get better. Can you do that?"
Blair closed his eyes and burrowed deeper into his sleeping bag. "Yeah," he whispered. "I can do that."
"Good. Now, go to sleep or I really will kick you out and let the bears snack on you."
/
/
/
William Ellison rolled onto his side and impatiently rearranged his pillow before laying his head on it again. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips.
Stephen watched him, surprised by his sudden restlessness. Everything had seemed fine with him a few minutes ago. "Dad?" he finally asked. "What's wrong?"
William shifted again. "You'd think they could keep the noise down," he ground out.
"What?" Stephen laughed out. "They're just talking, Dad. We were talking earlier."
"Doesn't matter," he grumbled. "It's late. You'd think Jim would have a least some consideration for us and quiet down!"
Stephen bit his lip, resisting the urge to argue further with his dad. He knew it was pointless. His father was angry because Blair had come on this trip. Everyone knew it... especially Blair.
At first, Stephen had been surprised at how quiet the anthropologist had been all morning. He'd barely said two words on the drive up, then scouted ahead of them as they began the hike. It wasn't until Blair offered to put up the tents alone that Stephen had finally realized what he was doing--keeping out of William Ellison's way.
But Stephen was not going to allow Blair to spend this entire weekend as the outsider just because his father was pigheaded. As he rolled over on his side and closed his eyes, Stephen determined to do everything he could to keep Blair involved in the group.
Part Four
Blair spread the hiking map across the top of a flat rock and bent over it. Jim stood behind him, looking over his shoulder, studying the lines and characters.
They'd spent the morning fishing. Blair had tried to make an excuse to stay behind at the camp, saying something about plotting their route for the day, but Stephen had insisted he go. Jim smiled as he thought about his brother's prodding of Blair that morning. He'd told him that if Blair was staying behind so would he. The declaration had thrown his guide for a loop. He simply hadn't expected it.
Neither had Jim. But now, looking back, Jim realized what his brother had been doing. He had obviously seen through Blair's plan to stay out of the way and was thwarting his attempts at every turn. As determined as Blair was to keep himself away from the little group, Stephen seemed even more determined to make sure he stayed involved.
And Jim couldn't be happier about the turn of events... or prouder of his brother.
"Right here," Blair said, pulling Jim away from his thoughts. He looked again at the map and the area Blair was pointing to. The spot was marked with small diamond-shaped symbols. "This group of caves looks interesting." Blair glanced up at him with wide eyes. "And they're only about a quarter mile from here. Easy hiking."
"Sounds good to me, Chief." Jim clapped him on the shoulder before turning to his brother and father. "You guys up to exploring a few caves?"
William's only response was a small grunt, but Stephen was more enthusiastic. "You bet!"
"Okay then." Blair refolded the map, tucked it into his hiking pack, then swung the pack onto his shoulders again. "I'll scout up ahead, try to find the easiest path in." He gave Jim a brief smile before turning and heading off alone.
"Hey, Blair," Stephen said, catching up to him and falling in step beside him. "Did Jim ever tell you about the caves he and I explored at the Oregon coast?" He glanced over his shoulder at his brother. "You remember?"
Jim laughed out loud. "How could I forget? All that clay and bat guano? I thought Sally was going to have our heads on a platter for bringing our clothes home in such bad condition."
"No kidding! I remember that that was one of the few times you got in trouble for something," Stephen said good-naturedly.
"Yeah, you were always the troublemaker," Jim said, casting a sly grin at Stephen.
Stephen snorted. "You were just as bad as me, but you were quicker." He turned back to Blair. "I swear it was like he could hear Sally coming a mile away. He'd be long gone and I'd be left holding the bag."
"Yeah, I hear you, man. He does that to me now with Simon."
"You're both imagining things," Jim defended himself confidently. He smiled happily as he watched his brother and his friend walking just ahead of him.
They hiked the quarter of a mile as a group--William walking beside Jim, Stephen staying with Blair, not allowing him to move off ahead, engaging him in conversation every time he tried to.
When they finally reached the caves, Blair pulled Jim aside.
"Did you say something to Stephen?" he whispered fiercely, his gaze shifting from Jim to Stephen and William who stood just a few feet away, pulling their flashlights from their packs.
"Say something about what?"
"About me," Bl
air pressed. "I've been trying all morning to get away from you guys and he's not letting me. He keeps talking to me, offers to stay behind with me. Come on! You had to have said something to him."
Jim reached out and laid a hand on Blair's shoulder. "I didn't say anything. I didn't have to. He likes you, Sandburg. Simple as that."
"Yeah simple." Blair swung his pack from his shoulders, dropping it on the ground. "This is not going well, Jim. Your father is more pissed off at me now than ever."
Jim glanced over at the two men. His brother was already at the mouth of the cave, shining his light inside, his eyes wide with anticipation. His father was sitting on a rock, arms crossed, scowling. Jim turned back to Blair. "I gotta agree with you there, Chief."
"Thanks for the reassurance," Blair said dryly.
"You want me to lie?"
"No," Blair muttered. Digging into his pack, he pulled out his flashlight and clicked it on, checking the batteries before swinging his pack over his shoulders again. "Hey, man, you better use a flashlight too or they're going to wonder about you in there."
"Good thinking." Jim pulled out his own light before heading back toward his father and brother. "Just don't get too close to any ledges," he whispered to Blair as they walked. "My father might see that as an opportunity he couldn't resist."
Sandburg glared up at him. "Funny, man. You're really funny."
"Who's trying to be funny?" Jim finished softly just as they reached William. "So," he began, ignoring the look his partner shot his way, "Are we ready?"
The four men entered the caves, Jim in front. Although he had his flashlight on for show, his sentinel vision extended far beyond the beam. His partner had managed to find great caves for exploring. The ceilings were high enough in most places for them to walk upright and the caverns were rich with mineral deposits, the cave sides gleaming in a multitude of colors.
They'd been walking for nearly half an hour when Blair stopped, his light shining to their left. "Look at this." He moved to the wall and ran his fingers gently across the rock. "Do you see this rich brown color?" He glanced over his shoulder at the other men in the group, his voice and expression excited. "That's caused by a heavy iron content. These rocks must be filled with it." He flashed his light ahead. "Do you know what that could mean?"
