Sylvan

by Jan Irving

  He arranged them very precisely in the plastic bag with the tin of tea as the lights in the cottage above went out. He took the whisk, the spoon, and all the other shit he’d brought with him to impress and delight Leif.

  Chapter Eight

  A FEW days later, Mal stiffened as a tall figure walked toward his campsite, gravel from the riverside crunching under cowboy boots, silver-gilt hair catching the dim light. He stood up from the fire, sparks rising between him and his surprising visitor.

  “Leif,” he said, swallowing dryly. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Out here” was Charlie LaFountaine’s ranch, several miles from Sylvan. Leif was certainly the last person he thought he’d see.

  “You didn’t come to work for the rest of the week. I was worried,” Leif said, dropping his gaze. He put his hands in his pockets. “I, uh, thought you might be visiting those friends of yours.”

  Mal shoved his black hair out of his eyes. “I couldn’t go back to work.” But he didn’t sink his idea of playing around with old friends. Maybe he should keep his options open after what had happened between him and Leif.

  Leif gave a drawn out sigh. “No, of course not. Not after the way I acted.”

  Mal shrugged, not looking for any more hurt. He was still raw from their last encounter, from the cold way Leif had dismissed him. He’d tried to tell himself that he was the experienced one and it was no big deal, but the rock in his gut said differently.

  “That cocoa on the fire?” Leif asked, giving Mal a mild look.

  “Yeah, want some?” Mal found himself automatically reaching for the metal pot even as he asked himself why he was being so accommodating. But after a few days alone, maybe he was ready to listen to another perspective. He poured a mug for Leif, who looked tired. His eyes were bloodshot.

  “Thanks. Mind if I sit with you?”

  Again Mal shrugged, uneasy but willing to listen.

  Gripping his mug of cocoa, Leif sat on a log near the fire. Mal sat down opposite him on another log, watching as Leif sipped his drink. After a moment, Leif cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for how I treated you,” he said.

  “It’s okay,” Mal said, not wanting to talk about it. He’d come here to forget it.

  “It’s not okay.” Leif’s gray eyes were fixed on Mal’s face. “I was angry.”

  “I got that sense,” Mal agreed, somewhat wryly.

  Leif gave a humorless laugh, putting aside his hot drink. “Not just at you… at everything. At my life!”

  Now Mal thought he had a thread of understanding. “I can certainly understand that.”

  “I’m angry because I want someone in my life, and my Papa makes that almost impossible. And I’m angry he’s not the man he was. And I’m angry at you, because you are everything….” Leif’s voice cracked and he swallowed, taking a deep breath. “Everything I want, Mal,” he finished simply. “And I’m not sure you want to make any kind of… commitment, but now I’m not sure I care. I just… want you.”

  Mal took a deep breath before reaching out and pouring himself a mug of cocoa to give himself a moment.

  “Uh, why are you out here, anyway?” Leif asked, as if wanting to find an easier bridge to cross.

  “Charlie LaFountaine’s a distant relative of mine. He let me come here to do some camping and hunt for fossils by the river bank. It’s something I used to do as a kid.” As he explained, Mal felt a wave of what he’d experienced on the dusty road when he’d first met Leif. He was conscious of Leif’s pale eyes fixed on his face and the answering constriction in his own chest, as if they were somehow connected.

  Leif’s brow crinkled. “He’s a Blackfoot, isn’t he? I’ve seen him around in town. So does this explain that gorgeous black hair I love to touch?”

  Mal flushed. Leif was certainly making his feelings crystal clear. “Yeah, probably. I guess I just needed to do something to return to an easier time, you know?”

  Leif nodded, gray eyes burning understanding. “You lost your way of life and then your grandmother.”

  Mal decided to be frank. “Not just that. You hurt me, Leif. I never expected that.”

  Leif put aside his cocoa. “I never expected I’d have the power to do that.” He took a deep breath. “Mal, does that mean you could really care about me?”

  Mal hesitated, still not sure who he was becoming, what his place was. But as he looked at Leif, he realized that he knew one thing: he wanted to be with him somehow. “I already do,” he rasped.

  Leif got to his feet and walked to Mal’s side, kneeling beside him and reaching up to stroke the black hair he’d teased him about. “After my lousy performance, I’d understand if—”

  “Shhhhh.” Mal outlined Leif’s lips with a finger. Leif took the finger in his mouth and sucked it, definitely warming Mal up despite the unseasonably chilly night air. “I told you that didn’t matter to me. But Leif, what about your dad?”

  Leif leaned his forehead against Mal’s. “I asked Mrs. Watson to stay overnight. I realized that I do need some help. That I… deserve some time with my boyfriend.”

  Mal found himself smiling.

  THE wind had picked up, making the plastic of Mal’s tent shudder inward in unpredictable intervals, but Mal lit the lamp inside calmly and pulled off his down jacket and then his T-shirt.

  Leif was crouched opposite him, and as Mal watched, he removed his lumberjack coat and then unbuttoned his blue work shirt. They were both silent, locking eyes again.

  Leif reached out and playfully tugged off Mal’s cowboy boots one at a time, and then Mal did the same for him. In socks and jeans, they met in the middle of Mal’s sleeping bag.

  Mal whispered, “We’ll take it slow.”

  Leif gulped. “I hope that’s possible for me.”

  And Mal smiled again. “We have all night. Just try to relax.” He knew that Leif was inexperienced and shamed over what had happened between them previously, but now they were totally alone without the nagging fear of being interrupted. They had a sleeping bag to themselves.

  LEIF got up the courage to ask for what he wanted. “Can you… that is, do you mind taking off the rest of your clothes and sitting on my lap again?” He licked his lips, color rising in his cheeks.

  Mal laughed. “So you’ve thought of that night, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah. Just every five minutes or so since I’ve met you. I have cameo-Mal on the brain. You on the roadside the day you rescued Papa. You when I pulled you from the lake—after you finished bringing up lake water. Your… um, rear end in my hands when you sat on my lap.” Leif listed the memories as he watched Mal removing his socks and then his jeans. His heart was pounding.

  Mal walked over to him on his knees and then climbed on his lap. His eyes were serious for a moment. “I didn’t bring anything out here, so it might limit our options.”

  “I did,” Leif breathed. “Oh, yeah.” His hands again were full of Mal’s round ass. He squeezed, feeling Mal’s erection rubbing against him as the other man put his arms around Leif and nuzzled his lips against Leif’s.

  Mal reached down and cupped Leif’s cock through his jeans. “Wow, I’d almost forgotten. What big feet you have!”

  Leif snickered. “Don’t you take anything seriously?”

  “Turns out maybe I do,” Mal said.

  Afraid to hope that Mal might mean him, Leif skated for more solid ground. “This is nice.” He was breathless as he let Mal open his jeans and play with what he found inside. “Mal!” He fell back but Mal remained on top of him, legs open on either side of Leif’s hips. Just what was he going to do?

  “Where are your supplies?” Mal asked, equally breathless. His eyes were brilliant blue in the light from the lamp, an his hair tumbled from Leif’s hands onto his forehead in messy lover’s peaks.

  “Front pocket. I bought, uh, a travel pack.”

  “Very appropriate.” Mal touched on other territory as he dug out lube and condoms, leaving Leif feeling both helpless and hard.

/>   “Mal, I can’t—“

  “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.” Mal stretched forward and then reached behind his body. Leif recognized he was preparing himself. God, that was hot!

  “Uhhhhh.” Leif wasn’t capable of words when Mal put the condom on him. He huffed, sitting on his elbows, eyes wide as he watched Mal take his penis and then slowly impale himself on it, face flushed, lips parted. “Holy shit, look at you take it!”

  Mal laughed and Leif felt it everywhere. “I never thought…. Oh, man, it was worth waiting for you,” Leif continued.

  Mal swallowed. “No one’s ever said that.”

  Leif’s hands worked on Mal’s hips, his thighs. “What do I do, Mal?”

  “Just lie there, gorgeous.” Mal ran his hands over Leif’s muscular arms, as if enjoying the shape and texture. He rose and fell as slowly and inevitably as the waves that hit the beach at Sylvan.

  The tent shuddered inward again, and a cold puff of air touched Leif’s skin, but he was enraptured by the play of feelings on Mal’s face. Mal had taken him inside. He was enjoying it, enjoying riding Leif. Leif had never seen anything as sexy in his life. Leif’s balls were drawn up tight against his body, and he worried that he’d come too fast, but then he didn’t worry because how could he lose this feeling?

  “How’s your first time?” Mal asked him softly.

  “If I’d known it was this good, I could never have said ‘no’ to you for so long,” Leif admitted. Suddenly he had to grip Mal’s hips, crushing him closer so he was grinding down against Leif’s bigger body.

  “Oh, so full….” Mal gasped.

  Watching Mal’s pleasure, Leif had another idea. He tentatively took hold of Mal’s cock, milking it in time with Mal’s movements on him until their sweaty dance strained. Mal groaned as Leif gripped his hips. He was barely able to let him move because he had to stay inside, had to stay deep inside him.

  They pressed together, eyes locked, hands meshed tight. “I wanted this the moment I set eyes on you,” Mal whispered. “I wanted you in me, on me.”

  “Shit, Mal!” Leif’s hands were almost bruising Mal’s skin. He loved the feeling of his prick buried inside the other man, but he was so close now! “I can’t—”

  “Feel so fucking good.” Mal smiled a feline smile.

  Leif felt as if the top of his head blew off. His toes curled, his hips thrust up, and his body went rigid.

  Awareness returned as breath panted moist against his skin, Mal collapsed on Leif’s bigger body. Despite his pleasant apathy, Leif had to ask, “You…?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Mal sounded content. “Can’t you feel it on your stomach? Sticky.”

  “Whatever.” Leif was also content now. Mal had come. He’d pleasured Mal. “I wish I could come in you for real.”

  “One day,” Mal surprised him by promising in a drowsy voice.

  THE tent was constantly rippling now from the rising wind. Leif frowned at it, thinking that the summer storm was picking up speed.

  Mal had gone outside and heated some water, and they’d used a towel to get cleaned up. Now he was lying in Leif’s arms in the sleeping bag, his bare shoulders and the back of his neck exposed as he felt the tattoo of Leif’s exploring fingers.

  “What kind of fossils did you find?” he finally asked.

  “Um, ammolite. It’s a kind of prehistoric snail.” Mal sat up and reached into his knapsack, handing a chunk of rock to Leif. “The Blackfoot believe it has healing powers.”

  Leif examined it, seeing the iridescent red and green and blue spirals embedded in muddy rock. “That’s fantastic.” He made to hand it back to Mal, but Mal covered his hand. “Keep it,” he said.

  “Did it help you heal a little?” Leif asked, and he saw Mal’s face soften at the question.

  “Yeah, maybe. Or it could have been being out here on my own, grieving for Nan and just… giving myself some time, you know?”

  Leif nodded. “I’m glad,” he said solemnly.

  Chapter Nine

  A CRACK of thunder right overhead woke both Mal and Leif. The tent was caving inward from the force of the wind.

  “Shit!” Mal exclaimed, scrabbling to light the lantern. He found it overturned and grabbed his flashlight instead. It was icy cold inside the tent. Leif was shoving on his jeans. “Always sounds like the end of the world, storms out here.”

  “I know. Papa’s really terrified of them now,” Leif said, and Mal understood why he was frantically searching for his clothing.

  “Your shirt’s here!” He cannoned it toward the other man while reaching for his own chilly clothing. “Fuck, it feels like winter and not the middle of July!”

  Another gust took out one of the tent pegs so the back of the tent deflated and flapped like a frantic rag in the wind. Mal recognized then that this was one of the really bad summer storms that struck from time to time.

  Dressed in record time, they barreled out of the tent. “Where’s your SUV?” he yelled above the wind.

  “In Charlie’s driveway, about a quarter of a mile from here.” Leif gestured the direction, down the slope and by the river that was now triple its size, shooting past its gravel banks. “You better bring anything you don’t want to lose!” he warned.

  Mal ducked into the tent and grabbed his knapsack and chucked the fossil in it he’d offered Leif. “I can leave the rest,” he called. “Let’s get you home and make sure your Dad is okay.”

  As they skidded their way down the rise under furious charcoal clouds, Mal’s tent suddenly flew by, lifted free by the force of the wind.

  Mal buckled up as soon as he climbed into the passenger side of Leif’s SUV. The other man checked his BlackBerry but then shook his head. No messages, which could be good or bad. Mal knew they really needed to get to Leif’s cottage to be sure.

  Mud and rock spat out from tires, and the vehicle jolted forward, and rain hit the windscreen with such force it was hard to make out the unpaved road.

  Lightning forked a mile ahead.

  “Shit, I hope he’s all right!” Leif said.

  The SUV skidded to a stop on a mound of sand in Mal’s driveway.

  “…What?” Mal looked at Leif. “This isn’t your place!”

  “It was on my way.” Leif gestured toward Nan’s cottage. “Mal, the windows are broken. You need to—”

  “What I need,” Mal managed evenly as he glared at his lover, “is to make sure your dad is okay. This is just four walls and a roof without Nan in it.”

  The SUV reversed back onto the road, and Leif muttered, “I love you.”

  MRS. WATSON sprinted to the driver door, not waiting until Leif could get out to hear her, a rain hat plastered to her gray hair as she gestured frantically.

  Leif and Mal leaped from the SUV, sliding on the mud, lightning capturing the moment like a flashbulb going off.

  The older woman snagged Leif’s arm. “I tried to stop him, but he had one of his notions, and there was no talking him out of it—he was sure you’d gone on the lake, so he took the rowboat to look for you!”

  “Oh God.” Leif’s face was a tight mask as he looked toward Sylvan, which was crashing above the stones he’d piled to separate the beach from the grass. The rain coming down was leaving pits in the earth, cutting down visibility.

  “Do you have a power boat?” Mal yelled.

  Leif nodded, pointing to the boathouse just above the beach. “But it’s on tracks—“

  “We’ll take it out.”

  “Mrs. Watson, go on back to the house and stay away from the windows!” Leif escorted her part of the way despite his urgent need to search for his father.

  “Lived here all my life, haven’t I?” But her eyes were full of fear. “Leif, be careful!”

  IT WAS a nightmare getting the little powerboat out. The water had risen to the level of the double doors, so Mal had to pry them open while Leif manned the boat, using the battery powered track to inch it down.

  Water crashed against the craft, so it wr
enched free of the rail with a screech, but then Mal was there, swimming, muscling it so it drifted free.

  Wheel in one hand, Leif looked over his shoulder to navigate. Painted wood towered high in the water—

  “Mal!”

  “Uh!” Mal grunted as a section of Leif’s dock struck his back. His head disappeared.

  Leif abandoned the wheel, trying not to fall out of the boat as the propeller lifted high in the air and then thudded into the surf. “Mal!”

  “Here!” A hand gripped the side, water washing onto the deck as the craft wallowed, but it didn’t matter because Leif tugged Mal aboard, and they slid to the bottom of the boat, panting, holding onto each other.

  “Oh, fuck!”

  “I’m all right!” Mal shouted, despite blood running down his forehead. He had stripped down to his briefs, so he was also shivering.

  Leif took a deep breath and managed to make his feet. He staggered to the steering wheel and gripped it, gunning the engine to pull them away from the shore while Mal flipped on the powerful light on the bow.

  “Let’s find your old man!” Mal leaned forward, knuckles white as the boat took a pounding.

  CANADA geese dived deeper into the reeds as the powerful search light spotlighted them, high above their usual nesting ground. Mal’s face was focused, but Leif felt despair rising like the storm. They’d been out here a long time.

  They’d passed the Kilpatrick cottage and the old sawmill on the farthest part of the lake. Beyond were the rocks that surrounded the old mission….

  “There!” Mal yelled, pointing.

  Heart in his throat, Leif saw the upturned dinghy. Oh, no. God, no. Papa!

  “He’s holding onto the side. I can see his hand!” Mal rubbed his arms and then shook his hands.

  “Mal, I can’t be sure I can reach you if you go in—” Leif couldn’t see Papa’s hand gripping the dinghy. Was he really alive?

  “Toss me a rope when I reach him!” Mal dove clean, arrowing powerfully through the turbulent water.