24. Bede

Chapter 24

Bede

A t first Bede only noticed a twinge along the left side of his neck, a mild ache that he dismissed Monday afternoon as the team attacked a string of knapweed that straggled up the first part of the path that led along Guipago Ridge. He was able to keep up with Toby, Owen, and Galen, no problem, and even volunteered to go to the supply shed to get more vinegar for the hand-held pumps because it would give him a chance to stretch his legs.

But on the way back, lugging the five gallon drums, one in each hand, the whole length of the left side of his back started to object, as if he'd just gotten done lifting more than his usual weight in the gym.

A day's rest might cure that, but he didn't have a day. Plus, he could not be outshone by the pair of housebreakers, so he needed to keep up. And, especially, he did not want to whine. Whining was for quitters.

So he kept his mouth shut, all through the afternoon, and through dinner. After which, bowing out of movie night, which they were having because it was too hot for a campfire, he grabbed his stuff and took an early shower.

The facilities were empty, with only a faint breeze through the upper screened-in transoms, and the faint flicker of moth wings against the lightbulbs. Even Gordy was not there, so it was a luxury, as it gave Bede a rare moment alone.

He undressed, laying his clothes on the bench inside the last shower stall and, naked, did his best to turn and see his shoulder and back in the mirror. He sucked in a breath. His shoulder was black and blue. There were bruises down his left leg, as well, from where he'd hit the fence and then the ground.

The horse Toby'd been on, Penny, had been startled, coming too fast, and his own horse, Ripley, had freaked out. Maybe had he been a better horseman, as skilled on horseback as he was in trading cocaine for cash, he could have stayed on better. Not gone down, sprawled on his ass like a fool.

Dazed from the fall, Bede had looked up at Galen, those eyes full of concern, hands reaching for him, touching his face. Asking questions, pulling Bede out of his confusion. And then Galen's arm had come around his shoulder, cradling him as though he were fragile, made out of bone china.

Bede almost came apart then, succumbed to the tenderness that seemed to surround him, soaked through him. It'd been a long, long time since he'd experienced such a rush of sweetness. Gentleness, those gray eyes so watchful and caring, and all the while his head had been pounding.

Galen's concern shook him to his core. His fear of being weak raced all over the place, so he'd gotten to his feet, taken care of his horse, and held his head high. Took care of what needed to be done.

When Galen had sent them off to the mess tent for lunch, Bede had looked at Galen, who waved him away like he wanted to be alone. So Bede left him, though he very much wanted to stay, and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with feeling like that.

When the three of them arrived at the mess tent, Gabe said, "You guys are sure dusty."

Toby had opened his mouth, on the verge of blabbing about what happened, when Galen had shown up.

"It's really dusty in the paddock," Galen said, spreading the cloak of protection over all of them. "I do hope we get rain soon."

Galen had not paid any special attention to Bede, or sat next to him during lunch. And in the afternoon, he almost never looked at Bede, not if he didn't have to.

It was as if the moment of tenderness between them had brought down some sort of shield, a shield that didn't permit any looks or touches or laughter between them.

In the shower, Bede let his muscles soak in the warmth of the water a good long while, and felt better for it, even as his mind swirled around the memory of Galen's arm around his shoulder, that moment of closeness, Galen's mouth close enough to kiss.

Then Gordy stomped in for one of his famously long showers. The spell was broken, so Bede turned off the water, dried off and got dressed, feeling a bit better. Heading back to his tent, he found Marston and Kell on the top step, holding hands the way young lovers did and, giving them both a smile, went inside the tent and crawled into his cot.

It was only in the morning that he remembered that he could have gone to the first aid hut and gotten some pain meds. That is, he could have done, but it didn't feel safe to soften, and he didn't want to be seen going there.

He made himself forget about the pain, though he felt stiff from head to toe while taking another riding lesson and grooming horses. All the while Galen seemed to be ignoring him except for business-like comments such as Good job, Bede , and Always keep your hands light on the reins .

In the afternoon, beneath the blazing sun, they attacked the knapweed again and, looking up the hillside as he rested on his hoe, elbows akimbo, Bede ached. His shoulder was stiff, and his left leg was seizing up so badly, he wanted to throw it in and say I quit .

Horseback riding was too dangerous and digging up weeds was too menial, especially for a drug kingpin who used to rule over his domain, dictating who could sell and who could buy. It was a whole other world from the valley and, more importantly, very different from Galen's world. Where you did the work, and paid your bills, and kept your nose clean.

It wasn't until Wednesday afternoon the pain was so bad that Bede was just about crying. But he didn't want Galen to see him crying again—too much vulnerability for him, too much exposure. And while Galen had shown his own tender side, he was hardly likely to have much sympathy.

What? Your shoulder and back feel broken in three places? Walk it off, loser .

Maybe Galen wouldn't think that. He probably wouldn't, but Bede didn't want to whine. So he walked it off until he couldn't anymore, and could barely take a breath without flinching.

He figured he managed to hide it long enough, before he broke down during dinner on Wednesday, slipped out of the mess tent, and went to the first aid hut.

It was unlocked, as Galen, during the introductory tour, had said it would be. The cabinets were unlocked, the drawers, too. As Bede flipped through everything, he could see there wasn't anything hard. No oxycodone, and certainly no cocaine, which was to be expected.

There was arnica cream and several hefty tubes of Voltaren. He swallowed three heavy duty Tylenol, dry, and stood there with both tubes in his hands, wondering whether arthritis cream would be better than regular pain cream, which one would be more potent.

Unsnapping the buttons on his shirt, he figured he would use both. But as he lay his shirt on the metal table in the middle of the room, he heard a sound behind him, turned too fast, and winced as he saw Galen standing there.

"You left the mess tent so quickly," Galen said. "It's cool enough for a campfire—shit, Bede . Why didn't you tell me you were hurt so badly?"

It would have been so easy to simply cave, collapsing into a puddle so Galen could put him back together again, like he wanted to.

But it would be hard, too hard. After five years of holding himself to himself, Bede didn't think he could let himself be weak. Couldn't let himself open up his chest and show Galen his pain.

But Galen had tracked him down, in spite of Bede's efforts to hide. And not only that, he came into the first aid hut, his silent strides bringing him to Bede's side, his hands cool on Bede's hot skin, his touch tender.

"These bruises go all the way across your shoulder," Galen said, his gray eyes concerned. "They look awful. You banged into that fence pretty hard. Why didn't you say?"

As Galen took the tubes from Bede's hands, Bede could only look at him through half-lowered lashes, biting back a hiss as the first stroke of cream touched the back of his neck.

"I was going to use both tubes," said Bede, struggling for normalcy, a facade that cracked when his voice did. "Layer them."

He wanted normalcy, but he was not going to get it, not when he was about to melt beneath the onslaught of Galen's kindness.

"Then I'll use both."

Galen guided Bede to sit on the rolling stool, hands stroking down both of Bede's shoulders from behind. The left one hurt like someone had slammed it with a hammer. The right one didn't hurt as much. And all of him shivered beneath that touch.

"You should have told me," said Galen, muttering as he eased the cream along Bede's shoulder, the back of his neck, gently down his ribs. "You should have."

Unspoken was the question: Why didn't you?

Maybe Galen didn't ask it because he already knew the answer, that Bede didn't want to be seen as weak.

Galen applied the cream along Bede's shoulder and part of his back, first from one tube and then the next.

Then he did it all again, easing the healing cream into Bede with his fingers. The swirl of his palm was warm as he worked his way down Bede's back, not stinting on the cream, going wide with his strokes, fingers curling along the ribs on Bede's left side.

He even worked the cream into Bede's left arm, going all the way down to the elbow, as if he knew how far those stabbing pains had reached.

"I want you to rest and relax," said Galen, sternly, as he put the caps back on the tubes. As Bede stood up, mouth open, ready to protest, Galen shook his finger at him. "No, I mean it. Work will have to go on without you. We're nearly finished with the knapweed, anyway."

The knapweed wasn't the issue. It was the idea, sudden and sharp, that the summer would end, and Bede would take his certificate and leave the valley. After all, he wouldn't be allowed to stay, and Galen would go back to his regularly scheduled life.

The future loomed like a vast, empty landscape that threatened to swallow him. At the end of summer, there would be nothing holding him in place.

"You should go to bed," said Galen. "Can you manage?"

Bede didn't turn around, and before he could say yes or no, Galen had placed the shirt on Bede's shoulders, gently, like a feather.

The Tylenol still hadn't kicked in, and it felt like it never would, but Bede could feel a certain warmth left by the creams, as though they were doing their best to get blood flowing beneath the surface of his skin.

Galen came around to the front of him and reached as if to help do up the snap buttons on Bede's shirt. Bede half heartedly batted those hands away and, snapping his shirt closed, stood up, at once dizzy and mesmerized by Galen's closeness.

"Are you going to be all right?" asked Galen. "Maybe I should take you to the urgent clinic in Farthing, just to get you checked out."

"No."

Galen moved a step closer.

Bede could feel the reaction his body had when somebody cared. Sure, he was a big, bad drug dealer, the scourge of Denver, feared by all. But Winston, having known him for so long, had often treated him with such concern, so it was crazy that he was having the same reaction to Galen now.

"You did take some Tylenol or something, right?"

"Three," said Bede. "Guess I should have taken them days ago."

He shrugged, not willing to admit that he wished he had something stronger. That he knew a single line of cocaine and several repeated doses afterwards would have wiped all of his troubles away for a good several hours, even if he never took cocaine. Not that Galen would have liked to hear any of that, so he kept his mouth shut.

"Bed. Got it?"

Bede waved Galen away, waved away Galen and the response his body was having, loopy from the mix of creams, the tenacity of the pain in his shoulder and neck, all of it.

"See you in the morning," Bede said and then left the first aid hut as fast as he could.

He did not shower, as that would remove the pain cream. He was too wiped out, anyway, stiff against the pain, his heart dodging bullets of care.

Once in his tent, empty because Kell was with Marston at the campfire, no doubt, he tore off his work boots and socks, stripped off his jeans and, wearing only cotton boxers, lay on the top of the cotton blanket and sheet, the tail ends of his shirt trailing on his bare thighs. But at least he was cooler now.

Galen hadn't been kidding about the fact that temperatures were going down in the valley. He could feel the breeze shift across his skin, as he covered his eyes with his forearm and simply willed the Tylenol to work.

If he wanted to, he could call any number of dealers in Wyoming and they would, forthwith, bring him what he needed. Sneaking through the dark woods with packets of cocaine.

He wasn't going to do that. He wasn't an addict, he was just in pain.

It was good to lie still, to simply breathe in and out and imagine the pain drifting away, even though it would pound to the surface of his skin, sinking down with some effort. Rising again.

There was no getting away from it. He should sleep, but it wasn't coming, and within an hour he heard footsteps on the wooden platform.

Thinking it was Kell, he attempted to use his elbow to prop himself up, but it was Galen.

He came directly to Bede's bedside, a bottle of water in one hand and a small, slender, amber colored prescription bottle in the other.

"What?" asked Bede, the word more a grunt as he sat up. Part of him wanted to draw the cotton sheet up to his waist. The other part of him wondered if Galen liked what he saw. The cotton boxers were summer weight, and the cloth felt like kisses on his skin.

"I brought you something," said Galen. "Scoot over."

Obediently, Bede moved to the tent side of the cot and watched as Galen sat down in the curve of Bede's waist. Galen held out the bottle of water, and also the prescription bottle, but Bede had to sit up to take them both. He moved his legs to slither beside Galen's legs.

"There's, like, seven in there," said Galen. "They should help."

Bede blinked to focus on the prescription bottle.

"This is codeine ." Bede shook the prescription bottle at Galen. "And who is this? Lance Greenway? Is this a stolen prescription? Are you dealing in drugs now?"

"That's Maddy's husband," said Galen with a little laugh. He grabbed Bede's hand around the bottle, gripped it lightly, and shook the bottle right back at him.

"She's the admin at the guest ranch. Lance had knee surgery a few months back, and doesn't like pills. I remembered. Drove up there and asked if I could have them for you. She said, yes, and that I should take you to be looked at, and I said I'd keep an eye on you. Figured you could take one now and work your way through the others as needed." With another low laugh, Galen grinned at him. "You might have been a cocaine dealer, but there's nothing in your record that says you were an addict."

"It's really shady you giving me someone else's drugs, you realize," said Bede. He wasn't really bothered by it, but the comment made Galen smile.

Bede looked at the pills. Within twenty minutes of taking one, the pain would be gone. Just like that. Which was, he knew, the reaction that addicts had upon buying even an ounce of cocaine. Flat out fastest escape from life known to man.

"Take one," said Galen. "I'll wait and watch and make sure of you."

Doing as he was told, perhaps for the first time in his life, at least outside of Wyoming Correctional, Bede tapped out the tiny white pill, placed it on his tongue, and took a nice swig of water.

He watched Galen watching him. Swallowed slowly, unsure about the rush of pleasure as he watched Galen's eyes widen.

The flirtation, however small, made something twist in his heart.

Their two lives were not the same. It could never happen between them and, besides, the end of summer loomed.

"Thank you," he said.

"Drink the rest of it," said Galen, a bit bossily. "You need to stay hydrated."

"Yes, sir."

It was a term Bede had used often when he responded to prison guards over the last five years, sometimes sarcastic, sometimes in jest, sometimes to fly below the radar by seeming to be the most obedient prisoner who ever existed.

But to Galen, it was with pleasure that he said it. Galen was right. Galen had come to him with fast medicine to take away his pain. The last time that had happened had been years ago. Before prison. Before Winston had died.

As to whether Galen was just a nice guy or something more, well, that was a mystery Bede didn't think he was going to be able to resolve.

"If you don't feel better by morning, I am taking you in whether you like it or not." Galen's expression was stern, but there was a softness behind the words.

"Okay," said Bede as he wiped his damp chin with the back of his hand.

In the stillness that settled between them, Bede could hear the pine trees rustling outside the tent. Hear the night sounds growing.

The hoot of an owl, at least he could identify that. The chrrr-chrrr of something else. Before they had been loud and a distraction, but now they seemed a perfect accompaniment to the warm summer night.

"What is that sound?" he asked, his body slumping into relaxation as the pill kicked in. "Like a click and a whir."

"Cicada," said Galen. "And maybe also bats."

Galen's body was warm alongside his own. Bede's bare leg brushed Galen's blue-jean encased thigh, his shirt sleeve rumpling up from his forearm where it brushed against Galen's snap button shirt sleeve.

He could sense the rise and fall of Galen's chest as he breathed and wondered what Galen would look like dressed only in cotton boxers, wondered what was beneath those clothes.

"Take off your shirt. Lie down and let me rub some more arnica on you," said Galen. "Then you can go right to sleep."

"Sure."

Letting out a breath, Bede tore off his shirt and stretched out face down on the cot, his feet half beneath the sheets, the cool air from the lake a blissful caress across his naked back and thighs. He heard Galen's small gasp and knew his bruises looked pretty horrible.

More importantly, back home, except for Winston, he'd never turned his back on anyone. He'd certainly never done that in prison. But here, it felt natural to do so. To hold back the flinch as Galen's cool hands touched him. Stroked his skin. Eased the cream in with a slowness like molasses in winter. As if Galen had all the time in the world and the jovial camaraderie of the campfire held no charms for him whatsoever.

"Better?" asked Galen.

"It's kicking in," said Bede, his words muffled by his pillow, his arms folded beneath it.

"What?" Galen leaned forward. So far forward and so close that Bede felt the stirrings of Galen's longish hair on the back of his neck. The whisper of breath in his ear.

"It's kicking in," said Bede again. He'd turned so his mouth was clear of the pillow, and there Galen was, there Galen's mouth was, his hands on Bede's neck, resting so simply, like a blissful wish that Bede was free of pain.

Bede was a sucker for all of this, so long forgotten and now remembered all in a rush. "I'm good," he said, rather than anything else he wanted to say.

"Okay."

Galen leaned back where he sat on the cot and pulled up the cotton sheet, laying it along Bede's body, like another whisper.

"Remember," said Galen as he stood up. "You have tomorrow off, so rest and heal. Got it?"

"Got it, boss," said Bede, smiling into his pillow as Galen just about tiptoed out of the tent.

As the pain went away, Bede wallowed in the ghost whispers of Galen's touch until Kell returned from the campfire.

Bede was almost asleep and Kell might have been doing his best to keep quiet, but Bede was awake now, and turned to look at Kell as he got undressed beneath the light of the single bulb.

"Galen was looking for you," said Kell, whispering like they were in church. "Did he find you?"

"Yes," said Bede. "He's all bossy about me resting."

Kell made a sound that was acknowledgement and Good night all in one.

Bede debated telling Kell the truth. That Galen had come looking for him, and his treatment of Bede's bruises hadn't felt entirely professional.

Bede was in love with the valley and he was a sucker for back rubs and for men who made him laugh and he was a sucker for everything that Galen was. He didn't want to leave the valley or Galen.

But he didn't say this, partly because Kell didn't need to carry the weight of Bede's confusion, and also because saying it out loud might make it more real than he could deal with right now.

Instead, he sank into sleep and in the morning, though he did his best, he did not stay in bed. He took half of a dose of codeine, the small pill snapped in two pieces between his fingernails, and saved the other half for bedtime.

Then, after a hot shower, and a good breakfast, he joined the team at the paddock for the riding lesson.

Galen raised an eyebrow at him and shook his head, muttering admonishments to take it easy, and this Bede did. He almost felt like a new man and pretended he had no idea why.