30. Bede

Chapter 30

Bede

S aturday was as hot as every other day of the week had been, though, in the afternoon, when they were putting away their knapweed tools, hopefully for the last time, a slip of a breeze kicked up and Bede watched Galen look sagely at Guipago Ridge, a gray line above the trees.

"It might rain," he said, tipping his cowboy hat back. He looked at them and shook his head. "Then again, it might not." With a smile, he took off his hat, scraped his hair back, then put it back on again. "Well?" he asked, looking at them as if shocked they were still standing there. "Aren't you going to go get ready?"

"Ready for what?" asked Bede, and Toby and Owen looked equally puzzled.

"Why, for your two-week anniversary, of course." Galen shook his head as if they were the biggest fools on earth. "We've got reservations at the tavern. John Henton's Tavern, in town. We're going to have beers and burgers. Plus, you get your refurb phones with six months of data on them."

Bede remembered being told about this, the promise. The carrot before the stick. At least that's what he'd thought two weeks ago. That this was all some big scam to get a whole lot of work out of them without putting much into them.

However, he'd been so deep inside the day-to-day activity of the valley that he'd forgotten to believe he was being taken advantage of. Plus, having a phone to call his own, even if it was a refurb phone with limited data, seemed like a genie's wish appearing out of nowhere. He hadn't had access to a cell phone in five years, so it was pretty exciting, even if there was no one to call?—

"Do we have time to spruce up, boss?" he asked, even if he already knew the answer.

"I should certainly hope so." Galen smiled at them all, though it seemed his smile lingered in Bede's direction. "Shower. Shave. Clean shirt. Polish your boots. Everything. Make me proud, and meet me in the parking lot around five thirty."

While the rest of the valley was lining up in the mess tent, Bede hurried to his tent, rushed through his shower, shaved too fast, almost nicking himself three times, and was in the parking lot in plenty of time. Sweating, yes, most of his cologne burned off, but he was ready. He'd never been so ready, not just to go out, to go somewhere other than the valley, but to hang out in a bar with Galen.

Had someone told him that when he'd arrived in the valley, he would have laughed himself sick. Yet here he was, heart pounding with anticipation as he raced through the trees to the parking lot.

Galen was already there, twirling the key fob around one finger, his straw cowboy hat tipped back on his head, and he was whistling. Some nameless, nearly tuneless tune, but he seemed so happy that Bede had to stop and just listen. Absorb. Maybe this was enough, this now. Galen and him, sharing what they could.

When Galen saw him there, the smile that broke across his face made Bede feel like there were angels singing in the trees. Pure nonsense. Utter bullshit. But that didn't stop his heart from fluttering as Galen walked over to him.

But before they could even so much as reach out and touch hands, Toby and Owen were stomping through the woods in their direction. Galen's eyes whispered a promise before he turned to greet the housebreakers, and then there was the usual scramble as to who had shotgun.

Bede won, because he had years of practice staring down the worst drug dealers, so surely he could stare down two half-assed criminals who would rather take the second row of seats, just the same.

As Galen drove, Bede noticed a shaft of what looked like gray clouds coming toward the ground, and pointed at the distant horizon.

"Will it rain?" he asked.

"That's virga," said Galen. And when Bede mentally asked, What's that? Galen explained it. "It's moisture coming down that doesn't quite make it to the earth. I always feel sorry for it, trying so hard and not making it. But it's pretty, and it means you can smell rain coming."

Galen rolled down the windows and turned off the AC, and a waft of fresh, damp air swooped around the truck's cabin. They were all still inhaling it when they got to Farthing, and Galen pulled up and parked the truck a short block away.

"You didn't lock it," said Bede as they marched to the tavern's front door.

"Don't need to," said Galen. "It's Farthing."

And if that wasn't a painful reminder of just how far apart their worlds were, Bede didn't know what was. Still, he shoved that aside and trailed behind the others as they went into the tavern.

At the hostess stand, a young woman in a cheery red-and-white checked apron checked for their reservations. Which, in such a small town, Bede would consider completely unnecessary—except the tavern was hopping .

People were waiting on the benches in the small foyer, standing two deep at the bar, all waiting to be seated. The four of them, thanks to Galen's reservation, got seated right away, menus in hand, in a nice booth toward the back of the tavern.

The booth was polished pale wood with long red bench-seat cushions. On the walls were wagon wheels and braids of wheat, two rusted branding irons crossed over each other. A western motif on crack. There'd even been an old buffalo hide coat in the front of the tavern, though who would want to wear something that thick and heavy looking, Bede had no idea.

It made him smile and when he looked at Galen sitting across from him, Galen was smiling, too. It would have been nicer if Toby and Owen weren't also there, because then it would be more like a date. But then, if it was a date, he'd be wishing it was already over so he could be alone with Galen.

A smiling waitress came up, expertly rattled off the specials of the evening, and asked them if they were ready.

"We can have beer?" asked Toby, and Owen looked like he wanted to know the answer as well.

"Yes, you may," said Galen. "Limit two. Though maybe we could add in a shot of whiskey or something, seeing as how we've been working so hard in this damn heat."

They all ordered the same thing, deluxe double cheeseburgers, along with a variety of different kinds of beers, and Galen held up four fingers. "Four shots of your finest whiskey," he said.

"Sure thing, hon," she said. "I'll be right back."

Bede settled in his seat, his whole body sighing at the thought of having whiskey again, and not toilet bowl gin. Of having a cold beer. A phone.

While they waited for their order, Leland Tate came striding up to them, and it was easy to see why Leland got such deference, such praise from everyone who worked for him. He was tall, broad shouldered. Held his head high, like he owned the place and expected everybody to mind their manners.

"How's it going, Galen?" asked Leland, as Galen stood up to shake his hand. Leland shook all their hands, then held out the white plastic carrier bag in his other hand, as if to show he'd brought it with him.

"It's going good, sir," said Galen. "This is Bede, Toby, and Owen, whom you've already met online," he said, pointing to each one in turn. "Guys, this is Leland. My boss's boss."

"Nice to meet you fellows face to face," Leland said. "I want to say how proud I am of you all. I've been getting good reports of your hard work and attention to detail. I know digging up knapweed is not the most glamorous of jobs, but it's necessary since it's an invasive plant that sucks all the water out of the ground. The horses will appreciate it, because they can eat the grass that will grow. And next year's guests will appreciate it because they won't have to look at it."

Bede didn't want to think about the following summer, but he sure did appreciate it when the waitress came back with a round tray and handed out their shots. She even had one for Leland, who took it and held it up.

"Here's to the valley," he said. "And here's to you boys who are making it happen. We couldn't do it without you." He drank back his shot.

In echo, Bede drank, shuddering with appreciation at the smokey taste. It'd been a long, long time since he'd had anything as civilized as that whiskey.

Leland held the bag out. "I'll be off, but before I forget, here are your phones. Enjoy them in good health."

He handed the bag to Galen, tipped his finger to his forehead, then turned around, and as he walked out of the tavern, the crowd split before him like the waves before Moses.

Bede turned his attention to Galen and the sleek white carrier bag in his hands. One by one, he handed out sturdy phone-shaped boxes to each of them, and one by one they fell silent as they opened the boxes.

Bede's phone was black, which was fine by him, and though the phone was supposed to be refurb, it looked brand new. There was even a plastic sheet on the glass surface that needed to be peeled back, inch by erotic inch.

"Who're you going to call?" asked Galen. "Who's your first phone call to?"

For a second, Bede thought Galen was making a joke from the old Ray Parker Jr. song. Who you gonna call? Ghost Busters! But no. He was asking for who specifically.

Bede knew Winston's number by heart, though by this time, five years on, that number had surely been assigned to someone else. A grandma in Utah, probably. He gripped the phone in his fingers and swallowed hard.

"What's the matter?" asked Galen. "Is your phone broken?"

Now Bede had three pairs of eyes, a fourth and fifth pair, if he wanted to count the waitress and her helper, who'd come up to the table just then with two circular trays full of food. He shook his head and leaned back and smiled, pretending everything was okay even though it wasn't.

He'd done that a lot in prison, especially in those first years, not wanting to give off any indication of the sweeping helplessness that would engulf him whenever he thought of Winston. As the years had gone by, the attitude of not giving a fuck had gotten easier, only now it was as if he'd forgotten how.

"No, it's fine," he said, forcing brightness into the words. "They're just a whole lot thinner than I remember."

"Yeah," said Toby and Owen just about in unison, and Toby added, "Lighter, too."

Bede put his phone aside and concentrated on his meal, the icy cool beer, bitter with hops, just the perfect distraction as he swallowed a mouthful and felt it slide down his throat. It tasted just like the beer he'd told Galen about when they'd gone swimming, and that moved him more than he'd expected it to.

He ticked the moments by in his heart until he felt a bit more normal, chomped through his cheese fries with appreciative sounds, and pretended that Galen's gaze on him wasn't protective and concerned.

Pretended extra hard that the idea of this didn't dance around strangely in his gut. This was what happened when you opened your heart, a realization he'd not even needed years behind bars to teach him.

Only Winston had been able to crack him open. Only Winston had loved him, and laughed with him, cared about him. And if it seemed Galen felt the same way about him, well, it was a fluke that would only last till the end of summer.

Smiling as he drank his second beer, wishing he could get a second shot of very good whiskey, he made it through the rest of the dinner, and, thankfully, his heart settled down by the time dessert came.

He wasn't much of a dessert guy but he ordered the carrot cake just to be sociable, and ended up passing most of it to Owen, who'd gotten the same, gobbled it down, and had been eying Bede's leftovers.

Galen drove them back to the valley in the heavy darkness with the faintest glow coming from along the top of the bulky foothills. That was soon doused as the truck trundled down the switchbacks into the valley.

Once in the parking lot, Owen and Toby took off like they'd been shot out of a cannon, their phones' faces aglow as they eagerly argued about who would call whom.

"Five bucks says they are both calling their fellow not-yet-arrested housebreakers," said Bede, because those two were just dumb enough to call and brag and get sucked into their old lives now that they had a way to connect to them.

"You okay, Bede?" asked Galen, coming close. He reached out to tug Bede close to him, looping his fingers in Bede's belt loops. "There's something about the phone. You've been quiet ever since you opened that box."

The last thing Bede wanted to do was burden Galen with his troubles.

"Not now," he said. "Maybe later."

He'd been thinking that once he figured how he felt about it all, it being what was happening between him and Galen, he'd be able to talk about it out loud. But then Galen asked, "Later, for what? Do you mean this?"

Galen rose and clasped Bede's face in his hands, his fingers warm, the dark air swirling around Galen's face, pulling the angles and planes into focus. Then Galen kissed him, softly, as if it were their first kiss all over again.

Bede let himself be swept up, to be petted and loved on because it felt so good, he was unable to resist.