Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

N athan had to admit two things.

The first was this little line shack was possibly the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his entire life. It was this wooden cabin, plopped right in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by mountains, seeming for all intents and purposes like it had grown there, willed itself into being.

There were two rooms—one for storage, the other one with the desk, a bed, and mini fridge. Even a stove with a propane tank underneath it to cook.

There was an ancient, rusty pellet stove for heating the cabin and a little well to draw water in the storage room.

The chemical toilet had been put at a good distance so that there wasn’t a bit of smell.

It was clean. It was simple. It was adorable.

Nathan had never seen anything so far away from everything else.

There was also a tiny paddock for the horses, and a great big old fire pit for them to sit out at night along with folding chairs and blankets.

Ames had done good, that was for sure.

The second thing that Nathan knew?

His thighs hurt so goddamn bad he thought he was going to die.

At least this time, though, he didn’t have to try to appear super brave and suck it up.

Oh no. This time he was gonna whine.

Whine and possibly pray for a massage, because it was Ames’s fault he’d been on a horse for four hours.

“You doing okay, honey?” Ames asked. He seemed worried.

He ought to seem worried.

“Do I look okay?” He grinned and winked to take away some of the sting. “I don’t suppose you brought any of that salve stuff? I might need that salve stuff.” Nathan gave Ames the big anime eyes, hoping it worked. “Bad.”

“I did bring Granny’s salve, yeah, but I was talking about the line shack. This work?”

Nathan thought about giving Ames shit about it, but his lover looked so goddamn nervous that he couldn’t tease.

“It’s great, man. I mean, this is like a surprise out here in the middle of the high desert.”

That must have been the right thing to say, because Ames gave him a smile that rivaled the sun before he ran his hand through that jet-black hair and plopped that summer straw hat back down on his head. “Good deal.”

“But…”

“But?” Ames blinked, like maybe he’d blindsided him some with the qualification.

“Yep. But. If you want me to cook supper, you’re going to need to do a little quid pro quo.”

A little grin curved Ames’s lips. “Am I now? What’s that?”

“My ass and thighs are going to fall off. I need a massage, or I won’t be able to stand.”

Ames drew close, reaching up to put one hand on the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss. “See, we progress. Look at you, asking for help. Let me go take care of the horses, and then we’ll clean up, and I’ll rub you down. We can even have a nap before supper.”

He moaned, because that sounded like heaven. He got it, though. He’d heard maybe a million times that cowboys took care of their horses first, then themselves, and their two were still tied to a rail out front, saddles and bridles on, the packs still loaded on the backs of their saddles.

“Can I help?” Nathan was afraid if he sat down he’d never get up.

“You can come keep me company if you want.”

“Sure.” Now that he could do. And he could help unload anything they needed, like the food and stuff.

They hadn’t brought anything fancy—a pack of hamburger, some bacon, and sandwich stuff. This wasn’t a busman’s holiday. But he was so looking forward to Ames making biscuits over the fire for breakfast in the morning.

He’d channeled his mom’s and her Girl Scout leader past and made a bunch of that gorp stuff—chocolate, cinnamon-glazed pecans, golden raisins, and homemade granola. Yum. He’d stuck a gallon bag in the pack and figured worst came to worst, they wouldn’t starve.

It didn’t take long to unpack and get the horses watered in the big trough.

Then it was time for the brushing.

Nathan knew Ames loved this part, because his cowboy could spend hours with a big brush in his hand, loving on whatever horse needed it.

He took Lobo, resting one hand on the big horse’s hip, pushing the tail away as it flicked flies, starting to comb.

He could almost imagine being an Old West cowboy out here—riding along, coming across a place where you could sit for a few days, and really relax. Take shelter.

The use of these shacks hadn’t changed in decades.

Obviously lots of people still came and went. Hell, there was even a logbook.

“You ever imagined being an Old West cowboy, Ames?”

“Only every goddamn day.” The brush made a whooshing sound as it slid over the horse’s hide. “I’m not like those rodeo kids attached to my phone or hunting for Wi-Fi. I’m not an athlete or a businessman. I was supposed to be a cowboy riding in the range. Just me and my horse.”

There was a hunger in Ames’s eyes that Nathan thought he could connect with.

“Just you, huh?” He didn’t think he could go back. But of course, he couldn’t. That wasn’t at all logical. But if could somehow, he didn’t want to go back even thirty years ago. He didn’t like hiding, and he liked his fancy kitchen. Electricity.

Running water.

“Well. That’s how I used to imagine it.” Ames shrugged. “That’s the romance tale, isn’t it? The cowboy rides away, leaving his busty girl waiting in the saloon, waving at the balcony window. That’s the way the story goes.”

“All right. I thought it was a romance. That means it has to have a happy ending.” He grinned at Ames’s over Buck’s back, admiring the way those muscles moved under a T-shirt that had been new ten years ago. “You do remember what those are right? Happy endings?”

Ames opened his mouth, then closed it, going for a grin. “Maybe. Maybe I do. Sure.”

“I’ll remind you lots.” This was a vacation, their weekend off. This wasn’t a place for deep thoughts.

He hadn’t intended anyone to have deep thoughts.

“Oh, I like that.” Ames kept brushing, so he did too. “I didn’t mean to bring anybody down, you know…”

Ames shook his head. “No. No, but I do think a lot about the folks here had to come across from, like, Kansas City. Can you imagine the folks from the East Coast? They go from the East Coast to Kansas City, and they think it’s the farthest, wildest thing that they’ve ever seen. Then they start out this direction.”

Nathan nodded, tracing the long lines of Lobo’s neck. “There’s something unbelievable about thinking of Kansas City as the end of anything. It’s the middle, you know? Smack dab in the center.”

“Now, but back then? No way. I mean, most of the wagon trails are gonna go from Independence north on the Oregon Trail unless they were traders, then they’d take the Santa Fe trail. But those that came down this way?” The passion in Ames’s voice rang out. “Or the ones coming across Texas? There’s no wagons. No lines of settlers with everything in their Conestogas. They come across the Badlands on their mule trains, and all of a sudden, bang! They’re in the land of arroyos and desert and mountains and…”

Okay, that was hot as fuck. Listen to that utter joy. It rang from Ames, and it made him want to hear more, if for no other reason than to listen to Ames speak.

“And they get to the top of those mountains, they stare out, and there’s no ocean to be found. Not for hundreds of miles still. No proof that it actually exists at all.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Nathan admitted. “I think I’d see that and quit. Put down roots and be all, here’s where I’m from.”

“That’s how it worked, didn’t it? People got as far as they could go, and then they sat down and they said, ‘this is it. I’m home now.’”

“You have a point, I guess. I guess you go West, and when you get tired of walking, you sit.”

“You know it.” Ames sounded pleased, as if Nathan got it.

Nathan didn’t know if he had, but he could sure fake it until he made it.

That was the story of his goddamn life.

Ames had listened to him wax poetic about food for hours. Had sat while he and Sophie menu-planned. Had peeled dozens of potatoes for them during the Fourth of July weekend.

The least he could do was cheer Ames on when he got his history buff on and talked about the Old West, right? And he did love a cowboy. Well, this cowboy.

Okay, that was also a Deep Thought, and now was not the damn time.

Ames gave each one of the horses a handful of sweet feed, then they walked them to the little fenced paddock and turned them out.

“You ready to go wash up, baby?” Ames asked. “I’ve still got plenty of energy for personal grooming.”

He laughed out loud, the thought that he was going to get brushed tickling the shit out of him. “I’m game as long as that’s a massage and not a curry comb.”

“You know it.” Ames held out a hand, and he took it, so they walked back to the cabin with their fingers curled together.

Warmth pooled in his belly. Not the kind that made him want to jump Ames’s bones right now. That could wait. But the kind that told him he would spend days with this man, just enjoying the way Ames smiled at him, listening to that smoky cowboy voice rumbling on.

When they got inside the cabin, Ames unrolled their bedding on the bed, then got a big old pot of water on the propane stove, putting a lid on it.

“Washing up water,” Ames said when he raised his eyebrows. “You need help with those clothes?”

He grinned wryly. “Not sure I can even get my damn boots off.”

“Well, I live to serve. Have a sit in the chair there and I’ll get them for you.”

“Do I get to push your butt with my foot like in the old books?”

“Nope. You touch my ass with that boot, and I will beat you.”

“Uh-uh. Remember, cowboy. Kink talk is reserved for traveling. You are banned until we’re back on a horse.” He winked and managed not to groan when he sat down. “Now, get with the boots.”