The Cowboy and the Hacker (Farthingdale Valley #5)

26. Zeke

Chapter 26

Zeke

Z eke was sticking to the plan, even though that plan felt half formed and badly considered.

If there was proof of that, it was in how the morning had gone. He’d locked his heart in place, pulled on his boots, and marched into the tasks of the day like a soldier bent on following orders, even when those orders were self-imposed.

Sure, he was the team lead and shouldn’t be fraternizing with anyone on his team. Sure, he had responsibilities to the Fresh Start Program, and an obligation to make sure every man on his team, even if it was only a team of one, got the instruction and guidance they needed to make a fresh start of their own lives.

He needed to do everything required of him to earn the five thousand dollars that was coming to him at the end of the summer. He was going to take that money, buy a truck, and head down to Cloudcroft to raise and train mules, like his grandmother had done.

Maybe he’d give lessons to people who wanted to own mules, people who wanted good, well behaved animals for their trail rides or chuck wagon dinners or demonstrations at rodeos and wanted to be sure that those mules stayed well behaved.

It would be a good life. Lonely but good. He’d struck out with Betty Lou, and now he was pushing Cal away with both hands.

The thought of it made his leg ache, as well as his heart.

He pushed Cal away even as they gave a riding lesson to three ex-cons who, in spite of outward appearances, were giving it their all. They weren’t bad at riding, just unseasoned and easily distracted.

Gordy fell off at one point, laughing as the mud splashed all around him. While humor was a good reaction to have, Zeke sighed inwardly at the hopelessness of Gordy ever managing to get a position at a place as swank as Farthingdale Ranch.

Still, with Cal’s help, Gordy hopped up from the mud, and his first thought was to pet his horse, and soothe her that it wasn’t her fault. Which gave Zeke pause, even as he stoically ignored Cal at Gordy’s side, giving him instructions as to how to make sure of his saddle in a low, calm voice.

Cal was good at this. He’d come such a long way since his first days of lying to Zeke about how good a rider he was, and what he knew about horses. Which had been nothing, absolutely nothing.

Normally, Zeke would have praised Cal right then and there. This time, he didn’t. He turned away, numb. But what else could he do? Wasn’t this the most responsible thing to do?

He kept up this behavior during the whole morning, and when everyone left for lunch, he knew he couldn’t eat. Couldn’t watch Cal from across the room and not do something about it.

He was weak; he knew he was, but it would be better in the long run if he and Cal looked forward, not backward. He would do his best, whatever that was anymore, and march into a Cal-less future.

He organized the tack room, and thought he heard rain on the roof, and ached all over.

They’d listened to rain on the roof of their tent, when it was pouring down and the tent was the only place that was dry, in the whole valley. There, they’d huddled together and laughed over their miserable meal of half-done beef stew.

Then Cal had given him the most amazing gift. He’d never experienced anything like that blow job. Never touched another man the way he’d touched Cal. A gift both given and received, along with the wonderful warm tumble of Cal, fast asleep, in his arms. Trusting that Zeke would keep an eye out for bears or whatever dangers Cal imagined lurked in the darkness, a memory that made Zeke feel powerful and good.

Finally, he was done in the tack room, and if he lingered any longer, he could only berate himself for taking the coward’s way out. With a sigh, he wiped his hands on his jeans, ignored the ache in his left leg, grabbed his hat, and made his way to the mess tent.

He thought maybe he could catch up with Cal and at least clear the air. Except when he got to the mess tent, wet almost to the knee from the damp high grass, and wet along his shoulders from the leftover rain plopping down from the branches above, he somehow couldn’t muster up the courage to say a single word to the young man who had changed his life completely.

He ate alone, and watched Cal go, and lingered over his half-eaten lunch, uncertain what to do. He needed to be braver than this, for one, brave enough to face the world so he and Cal could be together. He made himself eat his lunch, and when he thought he saw Cal outside the mess tent, he bussed his place and went outside, his heart pounding.

Galen was there at the steps to the mess tent, and Bede was, too. They were talking to each other, laughing a bit in that way they had.

Zeke’s steps slowed. He didn’t want to interrupt, but it was too late because Galen saw him and waved him over.

“Where did Cal go?” he asked after a hard swallow.

“He was looking for you,” said Galen. “But then he went to meet some guy in the parking lot.”

Toby came up, hands spread wide in a gesture that seemed to radiate exasperation. “I can’t find Owen anywhere.”

“He’s not in your tent?” asked Galen, then Bede added in a fake, shocked way that was obviously meant to be funny, “And it’s not visiting day!”

Galen and Bede and Toby all looked at Zeke, like they expected him to do something about it. The visitor guidelines were just that, guidelines. In the beginning, as with most rules, they were strictly enforced, but now everyone seemed much less stringent about it.

“I’ll go check it out,” said Zeke.

Maybe Cal went to get some privacy, or maybe Cal was going to borrow the truck without asking. Except that wasn’t like Cal, and besides, Zeke couldn’t hear the rumble of a truck’s engine. He did hear voices, shouting, echoes of anger coming through the trees.

None of this prepared him for the sight of Cal and another man, grappling like a pair of wrestlers. The only difference was, Cal had been hit in the face.

His nose was bleeding. His eyes were wide, and he had that same shocked, shook expression as he’d had the day, weeks ago, when he’d arrived in the valley.

The other man was Preston. Zeke recognized him from the single black-and-white photo in Cal’s file. And he was acting like he’d acted when Cal had been behind bars, behaving badly enough for some guard to have been moved to make notes about each visit.

Just as Zeke opened his mouth to shout at them to stop, Preston shoved Cal. Cal, off balance, went sprawling, hard, to the ground.

Zele was between them in an instant, facing Preston with Cal behind him. He didn’t need to threaten because Preston hopped back, a shocked look on his face as if astonished that someone would come between them.

“This is none of your business.” Preston stuck his chin out, blonde curls dancing, eyes blazing. They were blue, like Cal’s were, but there was nothing but hate and anger in them. “You need to step back, mister.”

“You have no business being here,” said Zeke. Normally he stayed away from fights, but he wouldn’t hesitate to step into this one. “You’ve got no call to be treating Cal like this.”

“Got no call ?” asked Preston, mocking him. “I have every right to be here. I even talked to Maddy. Any day is visiting day.”

“Visiting days are Sundays,” said Zeke, not backing up an inch, not lowering his voice. “If you’re going to come on a different day to visit Cal? You need to go through me.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Preston’s eyes glowed as though he’d landed a victory.

“I’m Cal’s team lead,” said Zeke.

Behind him, he could hear Cal getting to his feet, the shuddery sighing sound as Cal took a breath. He wanted to check on Cal, but he had a feeling that if he turned his back on Preston, Preston would get the drop on him.

“I’m his team lead and I say what goes for men on my team. Which means no visitors except on Sundays.”

It seemed a foolish hill to take a stand on when he said it out loud like that. Who cared when the men in Farthingdale Valley had visitors, as long as it didn’t interfere with the work being done?

But Preston was his own situation, a whirlwind of meanness. Cal didn’t deserve to have to deal with this on his own, but that was precisely what he’d done. Slunk off to the parking lot to confront this man of all men.

“You okay, Cal?” asked Zeke over his shoulder.

“Y-yes,” said Cal.

Cal might be okay physically, enough to stand and answer, but Preston’s presence could not be a welcome one. Zeke needed to send Preston on his way and get Cal some ice or whatever he needed for wherever Preston had struck him.

“You need to get lost before I call the sheriff.” Zeke jerked his thumb in the direction of the switchback road that would take Preston up and out of the valley.

“You can’t make me leave.” Preston crossed his arms over his chest, focused on Zeke, and not on Cal’s labored breathing behind Zeke. It was quite obvious he didn’t actually care at all about Cal.

“I sure can,” said Zeke. “And you can test that, if you like.”

From behind them came footsteps out of the woods. The footsteps most likely belonged to Galen, Bede, Toby, and Owen, on their way to get in the truck for some errand or other.

Preston glanced at the group and, with a huff, uncrossed his arms, stalked to his fancy car—a really fancy two seater BMW convertible.

Right before he yanked open the driver’s door, he turned to Cal and, with a snarl, said, “I’ll be back for you, fuckhead.”

Tamping down his anger, Zeke turned to the approaching men, expecting a slew of questions, but Galen only asked, “Everything all right?”

Galen and his crew came to a halt as they watched the BMW race out of the parking lot, spitting gravel and sliding around the first hairpin of the road out of the valley.

A glance at Cal told Zeke that Cal had swiped most of the blood from his face with his sleeve, hiding the evidence of Preston’s abuse.

“Yeah.” Zeke knew that everything was not all right, but the last thing Cal needed was to have his personal business to become camp gossip, and he wanted to send Galen and his team on their own so could be alone with Cal. Cal was all that mattered. “Just an old friend from home, I reckon.”

Behind him, Cal barked a laugh for reasons of his own, and Galen and his team piled into the nearest silver Ford 150 and trundled on their way to who knows what errand. They instantly turned on the music and rolled down the windows, and the low laughter began.

A happy bunch, Galen and his crew. Because Galen was good at his job. Was good with people.

Zeke turned to Cal, reaching out before he could stop himself.

Cal, white-faced and unsteady, took a step back and waved him away, which tore at Zeke’s heart.

“Can we get you to the first aid hut?” asked Zeke. “Get you some ice? Some Tylenol?”

The words felt so banal and dry in the face of how he felt seeing. Cal with a smear of blood across his cheek that he’d missed, his lips bruised, eyes wide and shocked.

“Let’s do that. Come with me now?”

It wasn’t an order, it was a request. An urgent one. Cal needed to sit down before he fell down.

Cal nodded, and Zeke led the way to the first aid hut.

Cal looked like he was moving okay. No broken bones, but Zeke knew exactly how jarring it was to fall like that, to be bucked to the ground with witnesses.

At the first aid hut, without a word, Zeke guided Cal to sit in a chair while he went through the drawers to find several packets of Tylenol. He handed two of the packets to Cal, for later, and opened the third one, found a bottle of water, and gave that to Cal as well.

His throat was too tight for words as he took in the scared look in Cal’s eyes, the dirt on his neck, the tear in the collar of his shirt where Preston had grabbed him.

“Take that,” said Zeke with a swallow. “I’ll find an ice pack. If there isn’t one, we can go to the mess tent and get some there. Or we can grab you a bag of frozen peas.”

He meant it as a joke, but Cal barked another laugh, and made an angry half-wild gesture as if he too didn’t have very many words but still wanted to mock the idea that he needed any ice at all, let alone frozen peas.

As Cal took the pills and swallowed two large gulps of water, Zeke knew his heartbeat was coming down, but the image still remained. In his old world, fights like that happened outside of dicey bars at two in the morning. Not on a workday.

“What hurts?” asked Zeke. He rifled through the first aid hut and spied the small fridge, which did have cold packs stored and ready. He pressed one between his palms and shook it and when it was truly cold, he held it out to Cal. “Tell me where it hurts. All over or?—?”

“Mostly my shoulder.” The words were quiet as Cal took the cold pack and slapped it on his right shoulder. He held it there, looking up at Zeke like he’d lost his way and Zeke was the first signpost he’d come across. “Nothing is broken.”

“That was Preston, right?” asked Zeke. “Do you want me to report him?”

Cal shook his head. Zeke wasn’t surprised. He wanted to find out more so he could figure out what to do, that is, if Cal would let him help. But later, after he’d taken care of Cal.

“He can’t come here again,” said Zeke.

“I didn’t ask him to come here this time,” said Cal, stiffly.

Cal’s clipped response made it seem like they were on the verge of a fight. Over something that was nobody’s fault, nobody except Preston’s.

How had Cal ever gotten into a relationship with someone like that? But again, now wasn’t the time for questions.

“You should take the rest of the day off,” said Zeke. “Get cleaned up. Get some rest.”

“No,” said Cal. Just the single word as he looked up at Zeke, one arm crossed over his chest as he held the cold pack in place. “He ruined my life before. He doesn’t get any more of me.”

Zeke felt his whole body start with surprise. It was good that Cal wasn’t planning on staying in what was clearly an abusive relationship. Zeke had nothing but respect for that.

Everything else needed to wait until Cal and he could find a quiet moment to talk, without either of them still vibrating from Preston’s presence.

“We don’t have a lesson this afternoon,” said Zeke, seeing the wisdom of staying active. “And it’ll probably rain?—”

“Can you assign me to something I can do on my own?” asked Cal. “I wanted to talk to you, but I’m so rattled, I just need to be on my own.”

On his own was how Cal had probably handled a lot of things in his life, and it almost broke Zeke’s heart to imagine it.

“Saddles could use some polishing,” he said, quite softly. “But I don’t want you working hard. Use your left arm, mostly.”

“Yes, boss,” said Cal, and if there was a bit of a smile in his voice at Zeke’s fussing, it only made it hurt all the more.

As he stood aside and let Cal walk past him, he kept himself from reaching out, and wondered why he was like this. As Cal disappeared into the woods, the rain began to come down again, light dripping sounds through the trees, the patter on the roof.

He had let Cal leave without stopping him because he was trying to be responsible, sure. He had obligations to the valley, and to Cal.

But also, he was afraid. Deep down. Afraid of how e felt.

Galen’s words still echoed in his ears. His affection—his love—for Cal felt like dangerous new territory that he had no idea how to navigate. Give him a woman like Betty Lou, and he knew exactly how it went. Dating. Courtship. Rings. Wedding. Full stop. Only he’d been waylaid from that, his course detoured from everything that felt normal.

To admit that he loved Cal—was that what this was about?—was to go all in.

Zeke wasn’t a halfway kind of man. Wasn’t a man who loved men. But Cal ?—

Cal was different.

A tangle of ideas spun around inside of him, far too complicated for him to unravel, but they all started and ended with Cal.