Chapter 13

The weather turned bad.The low clouds made it impossible to tell the difference between sleet and snow. Percy had veered off a little, yelling for the boy, though Albie kept an eye on him. The last thing he needed was for him to get lost too.

Albie pushed closer to where his property met McAllister’s. He had spent his childhood in these mountains. Clearing his mind in the tall trees and long grasses for days at a time. Not so much in this poor weather though.

And he didn’t like the idea of a small child being lost out here at all.

The thick tree cover afforded a break in the wind at least, though the cold seemed to come from the ground up. Once it got in your bones, it was hard to warm up.

He thought he heard other men call out the boy’s name, though he couldn’t be sure if the mountains were playing tricks on his ears, the way these mountains and the wind sometimes would. Bearings and thoughts could get all turned around, and when it was this cold and wet, your mind couldn’t see reason.

Even Albie wasn’t sure how far they’d gone now. Too far, perhaps. He knew there was a drop-off coming up soon, the ridgeline, but surely a small child couldn’t have come this far on foot. He wondered if they should double back and spread out some more when he heard Percy yell. “Albie!”

There was an urgency in his tone that put Albie on alert. He spun Minnie to the sound and she fought her way through ferns and trees, through a gully, and up on the other side and through the thicket, he saw Bandit by the cliff edge... minus Percy. Albie raced over, sliding off his horse before she’d even stopped, and he rushed to the edge. “Percy!”

“Down here,” he yelled.

And when he peered over, he saw Percy on a ledge holding a small boy with a muddy and tear-streaked face. He’d taken his own coat off, wrapped the boy up, though Albie could see his muddy, scratched and bleeding bare feet.

Barefoot. Out here.

Then he noticed a line of blood running down Percy’s face.

“I’ll get you up,” Albie said.

The ledge wasn’t that far down, maybe eight feet, nine at best. And even though they couldn’t see anything over the edge for the misty clouds, Albie knew the drop-off wasn’t the longest in these parts, not by a long shot. But it’d mean death if a man were to fall off it, much less a child. And while it wasn’t a sheer rock face, the earth was now slippery mud, and Albie could see the slide marks that Percy had made on his descent.

Albie took the rope from his saddle and rushed back, tying one end to Minnie and dropping the other end over the edge to Percy. “Hold on. We’ll pull you up.”

Percy clung onto the boy with his left arm and with his right, he wound the rope around his wrist, gripping tight. “Ready.”

Albie urged Minnie forward, nice and steady, and slowly, inch by torturous inch, they pulled Percy and Christopher up.

Albie helped him up the last part, desperately checking both their faces, ensuring himself that they were okay. “You’re bleeding,” Albie said to Percy, wiping at the blood on the side of his face.

“I’m fine,” Percy said quickly. He was pale, scared, his hands shaking, teeth chattering. He was without his coat now, it was still wrapped around the boy, and Christopher still clung to his neck. Albie wasn’t game to separate them.

“Take Minnie,” Albie said. “She knows her way back.” He helped him up into the saddle, handing him the reins. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.” He gave Minnie a tap on the rump to get her moving.

He wound up his rope and ran over to Bandit, urging him to follow. Then he remembered...

Fire your rifle if you find him.

He took out the rifle, aimed it at the grey sky, and pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening in the silence, echoing through the valley. Birds took the skies, crying as they went, and Bandit skittered but Albie managed to hold him.

He knew that would send all the men homeward, and he needed to be one of them. He dug Bandit in the flanks and headed back as fast as the terrain would allow.

Bandit was a good horse, but Minnie was mountain-bred. She’d get Percy back unassisted, able to jump rocks and gullies like a billy goat. All Albie could hope for was that Bandit got them home uninjured. He was careful not to push him too hard, but the urgency he felt—that panic in behind his sternum—found it hard to ease up.

He caught a glimpse of Percy’s white shirt through the trees every now and then, and he was mad that he’d not thought to bring a blanket or an extra coat.

He’d been too focused on finding the boy alive. He hadn’t given much thought about what would happen if or when they did. They’d be lucky if Percy didn’t catch his death out here, let alone that small boy wearing only pyjamas and no shoes...

Albie tried not to think about that.

They’d found the boy. That was all that mattered.

Albie gained some ground and wasn’t so far behind Percy now, but as they got closer, he realised they weren’t heading for home. They were heading for McAllister’s.

Smart.

Whereas Albie’s first thought was to head for his house, Percy knew Christopher’s parents must be about beside themselves.

As the trees cleared into grazing land, Percy was still at a gallop, up ahead now, and before Albie came out of the tree line, some of McAllister’s men were racing home too. They fell in behind Percy, and Albie followed them. Bandit was faster on flat ground, and he’d almost caught up to them by the time they reached the house.

Mrs McAllister and some staff were on the back veranda, Mrs McAllister crying as she saw her boy.

Percy slid off Minnie, rushing the boy to his mother, and they were ushered inside. Ignoring the looks from McAllister’s men, Albie was quick to follow through the door where Percy had gone.

The house was large and worth more than Albie could ever dream of. He followed the sound of voices to the extravagant living room where Mrs McAllister knelt by the fire, holding Christopher. The boy was crying, covered in mud and scratches.

“Quickly, prepare a bath,” she ordered, and one of the maids dutifully dashed out of the room.

Albie’s gaze fell on Percy, who stood there, unsure of what to do. He was also covered in mud, wet from the sleet, but his wrist was red raw from the rope, Albie realised. The skin on his neck, face, and arms was flushed dark pink from the cold.

Albie picked up Percy’s coat and put it around his shoulders, and Percy blinked up at him, almost surprised to see him. “You’re frozen to the bone,” he said.

Mrs McAllister looked up then. “Yes, please, sit by the fire. Get these men some tea, quickly,” she said to another maid who disappeared. Then she pulled on Percy’s coat. “Please, come sit by the fire.” Then she took a better look at Percy. “Oh, you have blood... Does your head hurt?”

Percy smeared the blood with the back of his hand. “No, I’m fine. Just a scratch.”

She nodded and turned her attention back to her boy. Her face was gaunt, her eyes puffy, cheeks blotched. Albie had only met her a handful of times, never looking anything less than impeccable. She’d clearly had a harrowing day, thinking the very worst.

“Where was he? Where did you find him?” she asked. “I’m forever in your debt?—”

The front door swung open and McAllister stormed inside, stopping when he saw his child safe in his wife’s arms. He stopped again when he saw Albie and Percy but then rushed to his wife’s side. He cradled the boy’s head before he looked at Albie, then at the state of Percy, and he quickly deduced who’d found his boy.

“Where was he?”

Albie got to his feet, his manners not letting him stay seated. But just then, the maid rushed in with two cups of hot tea. Percy’s hands were still shaking, and he was reluctant to take it. “My hands are too dirty,” he said.

“Nonsense,” Mrs McAllister said kindly. “Drink up, dear. You need it.”

Albie sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through his belly. Then he nodded to Percy for him to do the same before he answered McAllister. “The first ridgeline on my land from yours. Over the ledge, eight feet down.”

Mrs McAllister put her hand to her mouth, instant tears welled in her eyes. “Oh my word.”

McAllister paled. “He made it that far?”

Two maids carried a small bathtub of water out to the fire, and it was then Albie realised Marcy was one of them. She met his gaze briefly before lowering her head and rushing back to the kitchen. She came back out a moment later with a kettle of steaming water and added it to the tub.

Mrs McAllister stripped Christopher down, and both Albie and Percy turned their attention to McAllister. He looked a man wrung tight, and Albie even felt a bit sorry for him.

“It was you who went down to get him?” McAllister said to Percy.

He gave a nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Mighty brave of you, son.”

Percy kept his eyes down and shook his head. “I didn’t think on it, sir. I called out his name and heard him crying. I saw him down there and just slid down to get him, not thinking of myself, sir. I just had to get to him.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t see over the edge for the clouds. It was probably just as well. Albie had his horse pull us up.”

McAllister nodded, then barked an order at Marcy. “Get this boy cleaned up. Clean that wound on his wrist and the blood on his face.”

Albie wanted to bristle at the word boy, but he knew now was not the time.

“I’m okay, sir,” Percy said quietly, pulling at the sleeve of his shirt to hide his wrist. “Just glad your boy’s safe.”

Christopher was now sitting in the bathtub, washed and clean, eating a lump of bread. Marcy came back with a basin of warm water and a clean cloth, setting it down by Percy’s feet. She began gently washing his hands, and Albie wished it was him doing that.

But then Evalyn was there with a fancy China plate of bread, butter, and jam, offering it to them. “Albie,” she said quietly.

He took the plate but directly offered it to Percy. He was still looking a little too pale for Albie’s liking. He took a piece of the bread and managed a bite, but then he held onto it instead of eating some more. His tea looked barely touched.

It was then Albie noticed it wasn’t a scratch on his head where the blood had come from, but a sizeable bump. Had he banged it on the way down to the ledge?

“I think we should get him home,” Albie said, taking the cup and bread from him. He handed them off to a waiting maid and pinched Percy’s chin to get a better look at the bump above his temple. It wasn’t bleeding now, thankfully, but there was quite a large egg on his head.

“The doctor’s been called for,” another maid said.

McAllister, now seeing the bump on Percy’s head, looked at Albie. “I’ll send the doctor over when he’s done here.”

He wanted to say it wasn’t necessary, but this was for Percy...

Bill Kelly walked in then. “I’ve taken the liberty to tend to your horses,” he said, looking right at Albie.

“Thank you,” Albie said. And he meant it. Kelly was a good man. “But we’ll be going now.” He gave McAllister a nod, then offered a parting smile to Mrs McAllister. “I hope young Christopher will be fine.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking between them both. “Thank you.”

Albie took Percy’s arm and helped him to his feet. “Are you well enough?”

Percy, pale and dazed, met his gaze and gave a nod. “I’m fine.”

Albie didn’t believe that. And he wanted nothing more than to get Percy home, cleaned up, and tucked into bed.

McAllister took a money clip from his inside coat pocket and counted out some notes. “I promised thirty pounds to anyone who found him,” he said. “I’m a man of my word.”

Albie wanted to tell him to keep it. Actually, he wanted to tell him to eat it. But McAllister handed the money to Percy.

Rightfully so, given he was the one who found him.

Part of Albie wished Percy would decline the offer, but it wasn’t Albie’s call to make. Percy took the money with a nod. “I’d have done it for nothing,” he said quietly. “But this is appreciated, sir. Thank you.”

Albie gave McAllister a tight nod and ushered Percy out the front door.

“Bring their horses,” McAllister hollered, and before they got to the edge of the veranda, one of his men led Minnie and Bandit toward them.

Albie noticed Williams and Fitzgerald standing by, watching them, with a look of distaste on their faces. Were they mad that they’d not found the boy and scored the money? Or mad that it was Percy and Albie who had?

McAllister was on the veranda then, pointing at Williams and Fitzgerald. “What are you standing there for? I told you already to make a start on those fences!”

Albie helped Percy onto Bandit, then swung himself up onto Minnie. He tipped his hat at McAllister, then gave Williams and Fitzgerald a smug nod as they scurried like rats across the yard to one of the work sheds.

And as much as he’d have liked to bask in that moment, his main concern was getting Percy home. It wasn’t an overly long ride but the weather was setting in, low and bitterly cold, and Percy seemed to be fading fast.

They rode into their farm, Des and Robert rushing out to meet them. “I was worried about ya both,” Des said to Albie. Until he saw Percy and helped him off his horse. “Jeez, kid, what happened?”

“He was the one who found the boy,” Albie explained, climbing down off Minnie. He was quick to grab Percy. “He’s in a state. Cold, shock, I’m not sure. He has a large bump on his head.”

“I’ll take these two,” Robert said, leading the horses toward the barn.

Des went ahead, limping on his bad leg, to the front door where Elsie met him. “We’ll need some hot water, some tea, maybe some soup.” He held the door for them, and Albie helped Percy inside. He considered putting him by the fire but thought bed might be a better option.

He helped him sit down on the bed, Elsie helping untie his boots, and Des stood in the doorway.

Did he see their clothes by the hamper? Did he see the bed rumpled for two?

Albie would have to worry about that later.

“I’ll get a wash basin,” Elsie said, ducking out of the room.

Albie shucked out of his coat and threw it toward the dresser, then put his hand to Percy’s face. “I need to take your shirt off. It’s wet.”

Percy gave a nod. “Sorry. Just a bit... tired,” he said, slow-blinking.

Albie pulled Percy’s suspenders off with a familiar ease, followed by his shirt. Then he urged him gently to lay down. “Take it easy,” Albie said quietly. “Gonna get you cleaned up.”

He undid Percy’s pants and pulled them off him. Realising Des was still at the door, Albie pulled the blankets up to cover him. Elsie came back with the wash basin, and Albie took it from her. “I need more blankets,” he said. “He’s cold to the bone.”

She gave a nod and disappeared again, and Albie took the washcloth and wrung the warm water from it. He sat on the edge of the bed and taking in Percy’s beautiful sleeping face, he ever so gently wiped at the bump on the side of Percy’s head.

“What happened?” Des asked. “Percy found the boy?”

Albie nodded. “Yes. He was over the edge of the first cliff. Percy went down to get him. Must have hit his head on the way down. Lucky he didn’t fall off.”

Albie couldn’t bear the thought...

“We heard the gunshot,” Des said, still at the doorway. “We came back, and when you didn’t follow, we were worried. Robert was about to go back looking for ya’s.”

“Sorry,” Albie said. “I had Minnie pull Percy and Christopher up. Then I put them on her because she’d know her way back. Percy had the sense to ride straight to McAllister’s. Mrs McAllister was about beside herself with worry.”

Elsie came in with a blanket from her bed and draped it over Percy. “I’ll go see how his tea’s going.”

“Might just keep it warm for him,” Albie said. “He wasn’t up for eating or drinking at McAllister’s. I think he needs some rest. I’ll just get him cleaned up first, then I’ll join you.”

Elsie gave Albie’s shoulder a squeeze. “Call out if you need.”

She collected Percy’s wet and dirty clothes from the floor, ushered Des away from the doorway, and she closed the door behind them. And then in the dimly lit bedroom, Albie wiped Percy’s forehead, his cheek, his jaw, taking in the lines of his face. He swiped his thumb across Percy’s cheekbone, cradling him gently. “Oh, my love.”

Percy’s eyes opened slowly, took a second to focus, and then he smiled. “You.”

“I’m here.” Albie nodded, cupping his face and planting a soft kiss on his lips. “You gave me quite a scare. Rest easy, now. We’ll get you some tea and soup later if you’re up for it.”

“Head hurts,” he mumbled, his eyes drifting closed again.

“Go to sleep,” Albie whispered. “I’ll be right here.”

When Percy’s breaths evened out and deepened, Albie pulled the blankets down and, with the warm washcloth, began giving him a bath.

First, his face and neck, his chest, then his hands, to properly wash away the mud and dirt. Then he gently patted the rope marks on his wrist.

He loved this man. This body, this face. And seeing him lie so still now made him miss his smile so much. The way his eyes would shine when he laughed, the way his blond hair would shine in the sunlight.

Percy just needed to sleep, Albie reminded himself. He’d be right as rain tomorrow.

With that in mind, he pulled the blankets back up and tucked him in safe and sound. He kissed his forehead, took the washbasin of dirty water, and went back into the living room.

Robert was there now too, and all eyes landed on Albie.

“How is he?” Elsie asked as she took the washbasin from him.

“He’s sleeping,” Albie said, wiping his hands on his trouser pants. “He took a knock to the head, it seems. McAllister said he’d send the doctor over, but we’ll see.”

Albie would believe it when he saw it.

“What did McAllister say?” Des asked.

“He was grateful.” Albie shrugged. “Though I don’t doubt it hurt his pride some that it was me and Percy who brought the boy back.”

He considered telling them that McAllister paid Percy thirty pounds, but that wasn’t his story to tell.

“Mrs McAllister was very relieved and upset,” Albie said. “Understandably so.”

Clara put some plates on the table. “Please come eat,” she said quietly. “You all must be cold and hungry.”

Albie gave her a nod and a smile. “Thank you.”

They sat, and after a few bites, Robert asked, “Was the boy okay?”

Albie chewed and swallowed his mouthful. “He appeared to be. Wearing pyjamas and no shoes. He had scratches all over him, but he was eating bread in the bath when we left.”

“Kids are resilient,” Des said. “I remember you being not much older than that, going out into the scrub on your own. Never went barefoot though, right?”

Albie smiled at him. “Not in winter.”

“And he went over the edge of the first ridgeline you said?” Des clarified.

Albie nodded, and Robert shook his head in amazement. “Damned lucky.”

“Very.” Albie took a sip of tea. “McAllister was yelling at Fitzgerald and Williams to start making fences as I was leaving. Got a good deal of satisfaction out of seeing them scurry off like rats.”

Des and Robert chuckled. “Fences, huh?” Des asked.

Albie shrugged. “Yeah. I dunno if it’ll keep his kid in, but if he wants to run a fence line along the length of my land, I won’t stop him.”

Des smirked at that, but then it faded. “As long as he doesn’t claim land that ain’t his.”

Albie hadn’t thought of that. He sighed. Another worry for another day.

He had enough to worry about right now.

* * *

After dinnerwhen Albie was helping Elsie and Clara clear away the table, he heard Percy cough, followed by a retching sound.

He raced for the room and found Percy trying to sit up, covering his mouth. Thankfully Elsie followed Albie in with the washbowl for Percy to be sick in.

He’d hardly eaten all day so there wasn’t much to expel, but he was cold and clammy, pale.

Albie gave him some fresh water to sip, and he sagged back onto the bed with a groan. Albie wiped a clean washcloth over his face while Elsie replaced the washbasin, Clara watched from the doorway.

“What can we do?” she asked.

“I’ll sit up with him tonight,” Albie said. “And watch over him.”

Clara frowned but nodded. “I wish I could do more.”

Same, Albie thought. Same.

And that’s what Albie did. He sat by the bed and watched Percy sleep. He had no more bouts of vomiting and he did seem to rest more peaceful in the early hours, and sometime around three o’clock in the morning, Albie must have nodded off and almost fell off the chair. He climbed into the other side of the bed, just to rest his eyes for a moment...

And woke up when daylight was peeking through the blinds and there were pots and pans clanging from the kitchen. And Percy was tucked into his side, his head on his shoulder.

Albie rubbed Percy’s arm, his back, and kissed the top of his head. He was still asleep, but he had moved during the night, to curl into Albie’s side, and he took that as a good sign.

He was loath to wake him up but he needed to pull his arm free.

“Morning,” Percy mumbled.

Albie’s heart sang, his whole body flooded with relief. “Oh, good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Head hurts a bit, but I think I’m hungry.”

Albie gave him a squeeze, kissing his head once more with smiling lips. “I’ll get you something.”

Percy rolled onto his back. “Why am I undressed?”

“Do you not remember?”

He was quiet a second. “No.” Albie got out of bed and Percy looked at him. “Why are you fully dressed?”

“Because I spent most of the night in the chair beside you, fearing you’d be sick again in your sleep.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion and he tried to sit up, but he sagged back down, his hand to his head. “Ow.”

“Okay, stay right there,” Albie said. “I’ll bring you breakfast.”

He rushed out to where Clara and Elsie were in the kitchen, standing a little too close together. Elsie was fixing a whisp of Clara’s hair and Albie cleared his throat, smiling. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Clara ducked away, hiding behind Elsie, but Elsie simply smiled right back at him. “You don’t look too sorry, Albie.”

He chuckled. “Percy’s awake, and he’s hungry. I was hoping to fetch him some porridge and tea.”

“Ah, a good sign,” Elsie said. “Yes, I’ll bring it in for him if you like?”

“I can take it,” Albie said. “He’s still not dressed, so he might be embarrassed, that’s all. And his head still hurts. He can’t sit up just yet.”

Elsie smirked as she dished up some oats. “Then you best spoon-feed him, given he’s near naked, huh?”

Clara’s eyes went wide and she nudged Elsie. “Elsie, shush with that.”

Albie smiled despite the heat in his cheeks. “Well yes, I best feed him.” He cleared his throat, his mouth dry. “The man needs his strength.”

Elsie put the plate of porridge on a tray and set a teacup beside it. Then she gave Albie a wink. “I bet he does.”

Clara gasped and swatted Elsie with her kitchen towel, and Albie’s face burned red. But this was an acknowledgement out loud of what they’d both assumed before now.

That Elsie could take a private moment to fix Clara’s hair any time she wanted, and yes, Albie would look after, feed, and sleep next to a near-naked Percy.

With a smile and a nod to Elsie, Albie took the tray into his room. Percy was dozing again but he woke at the sound of the door snicking closed. Albie set the tray on the foot of the bed and helped Percy sit up, slowly and gently, with a pillow at his back.

“How do you feel now?” Albie asked. “Do you need a moment for your head to feel right?”

Percy sighed and blinked slowly. “I’m fine.”

Albie wasn’t so sure of that. He pulled the tray closer, scooped up a spoonful of porridge from the side of the plate, and lifted to Percy’s mouth.

“I can feed myself,” Percy mumbled.

“I know. But let me look after you,” Albie said gently. “I looked after you all night. I don’t intend on stopping now.” He met Percy’s eyes. “Or ever. I will always look after you.”

Percy smiled shyly, and took the mouthful of porridge. Then he closed his eyes, letting his head rest on the headboard. Albie could see the bump at his temple was less swollen, but it now had more colour.

“You took a knock to the head,” Albie said. “Must have been when you went down the ledge.”

Percy opened his eyes, focused on Albie. “I don’t remember much. Just parts.”

Albie traced his fingers over Percy’s wrist where the rope burns still showed. Percy looked at them as if he was seeing them for the first time. “Oh.”

“Do they hurt?”

“No.”

Albie offered him more porridge, and he ate half the bowl before refusing anymore. He sipped his tea but he’d had enough, and Albie didn’t want to push him.

Percy settled back down in the bed. “Tired. But I feel better, thank you.”

“Clara washed your clothes,” Albie said. “And dried them by the fire. I’ll bring them in. But you can rest all day. Sleep as you need to.”

Percy looked too tired to argue.

Albie left him to sleep, doing some morning chores before he sat down to breakfast with the others. He told them Percy had eaten a little, but he was still tired and their concern for him was a comfort Albie wasn’t sure he even knew he needed.

Before their plates were even cleared away, the barking dogs alerted them to another visitor. Albie went out onto the veranda to see the doctor riding in.

“Mr McAllister asked me to do a house call,” he declared before getting off his horse. Then he slid down and took off his gloves. “I only arrived up here after dark last night. I’d have come sooner but for the late hour.”

Albie greeted him with a shake of his hand. “Thank you for coming now. Have you had breakfast?”

He smiled warmly at Albie. “I have. Mrs McAllister insisted. But thank you, young Albie. You’ve grown two feet since I saw you last. Very sorry to hear about your father.”

The reminder hit Albie hard and unexpected, the way grief often did. “Thank you,” he managed. Then he gestured to the front door. “The patient is this way.”

The doctor grabbed his bag and followed Albie inside.

“He was sleeping when I left him this morning,” Albie explained, standing at the closed bedroom door. “He did manage to eat something this morning, though he took ill last night, vomiting, and he was confused and sleepy.”

The doctor gave a serious nod. “Very well. Let us see him.”

Percy was asleep, though he woke when they walked in. He seemed startled, pulling the blankets up as if he’d been caught in a bed he shouldn’t have been in.

“Percy,” Albie said gently. “This is Doctor Dawson. He’s here to check on you.” Then Albie turned to the doctor. “I put him in this room to keep an eye on him, if you were wondering.”

That was more for Percy’s peace of mind, but the doctor didn’t seem to even notice. “Right then, give us a few minutes privacy please, Albie?”

Albie left them, closing the door quietly and he found Elsie and Clara in the kitchen. “He’s checking him over,” Albie said.

Elsie put a comforting hand on his arm. “Percy’ll be fine. He’s a tough one.”

But then a few minutes became a few minutes more, and Albie couldn’t stand it. “I’ll be outside, doing... something. Anything.”

He checked on the new pig pen and gave the new piglets fresh hay in their bed stall, and when he was on his way back to the stable, he saw Elsie walk the doctor out. He rushed over, and Elsie quickly went back inside.

“How is he?” Albie asked.

Doctor Dawson met his gaze, but he smiled. And smiling had to be a good sign, right?

“He’s taken a knock to the temple.” He pointed to the spot on his own head. “It might seem a small injury but it’s not insignificant, Albie. The sleepiness, the confusion, that’s about right for a concussion.”

“Is he... will he be... what does that mean?”

“I think he’ll be just fine,” Doctor Dawson said. “Give him a day or two rest. Keep the room dark to save the headache. You said he’s eating, so that’s a good sign. And he has his faculties, which tells me there’s no lasting damage.”

“Damage?”

“The human brain is a fickle beast, Albie. He’s lucky. He doesn’t remember hitting his head, but he also doesn’t remember how he got down onto that ledge. Was the ledge in question a long drop? Rocky, perhaps?”

“Both.”

“Well, there’s your answer.” He began pulling his gloves on. “Keep him rested, fed, and watered, and he’ll be back to work in no time.”

Funnily enough, Albie didn’t care about work right then.

“Just as long as he’s okay,” he managed.

Des brought the doctor’s horse over. “Ah, Desmond Blackwell. How’s the leg?”

Des tapped the side of his knee. “Still got it,” he replied. “Best barometer around.”

The doctor laughed, but then he saw Robert and he did a double take. “Robert Fuller, I’ll be damned. Best I’ve seen you look in ten years, man.”

Robert was clearly embarrassed, but he tipped his hat. “Doc.”

Doctor Dawson gave Albie a brilliant smile. “Whatever you’re doing up here, boy, you’re doing it right. Keep it up.”

For some reason, having the doctor call Albie a boy didn’t rankle him. He was an older man, and Albie could only guess anyone younger than him copped that name. “Thank you.”

Elsie came back out with a small parcel and waited for the doctor to mount his horse. She handed the parcel up to him. “For your trip back home.”

“Ah, you spoil me,” he said, tipping his hat and riding up toward the gate.

Des and Robert watched him leave but Albie headed straight back inside, Elsie quickly following. She grabbed his arm. “I hope you didn’t mind the bread I gave him,” she said.

“Not at all. I’m glad you offered it to him.”

She was relieved, clearly. “He, uh, he tended to Clara’s eye after Williams hit her. He was surprised to see us here, but I asked him to not tell anyone...” She shrugged. “He said he wouldn’t.”

Albie now gave her arm a squeeze. “I’m sure he’s a man of his word.”

“Thank you, Albie,” she whispered. “Now, go check on your boy.”

“What is it with people calling us boys today?” he grumbled, and Elsie smiled at him. He didn’t mind the term of affection coming from her either, probably because it wasn’t meant to insult him. Or that she implied Percy was his.

Albie rather liked that.

He gave a quiet knock on the bedroom door and cracked it open. “Can I come in?”

“Mmm,” Percy said, his voice croaking. “Since when do you need permission to enter your own room?”

He grinned as he walked in. The room was still dark, curtains drawn closed, but he could see Percy’s sleepy smile. “You’re feeling better,” he noted.

“My head hurts,” he said. “And I’m so tired. I don’t know why. Seems the more I sleep, the tireder I am.”

“The doctor said you’ll need to rest,” Albie said quietly.

Percy slow-blinked, half smiling. “He gave me a bitter tonic for my head.”

“Good.”

He made a face. “It was not good. I’d prefer the cool washcloth if I’m being honest.” Then he lifted his arm, showing the redness was still there. “And he put a balm on my wrist.”

Albie sat on the edge of the bed and cupped Percy’s face. “I’m just glad you’re okay. He said it might take a few days before you’re well enough to work. But don’t worry about any of that. We’ll all chip in and get everything done. I just need you to rest.”

Percy closed his eyes, leaning into Albie’s touch, and when he didn’t open his eyes again, Albie realised he’d fallen asleep. He pulled the blankets up, gently kissed Percy’s forehead, and let him be.

Albie worked around the house for the rest of the day. He knew Elsie would holler for him if needed, so he didn’t want to venture too far.

He fed Percy some dinner, one slow forkful at a time. “I can do this by myself,” Percy had said.

“I know, but I like looking after you,” Albie had replied, and Percy smiled as he opened his mouth for another bite.

He put a cold compress to Percy’s forehead afterward, then practised his reading on his own, finally slipping into bed beside Percy when the day was done.

Percy was quick to find Albie’s arms, sighing when he drew peaceful patterns on his back. But he wasn’t up for anything more, and that was fine.

If holding Percy was the only thing Albie ever got to do with him again, he’d be fine with that.

The night after that though, Percy’s hand had begun to wander downward, lower, lower, until Albie stopped him. “Uh, you need to rest. Doctor’s orders.”

Percy whined. “I’m bored and I miss you, and my body misses you.”

Oh, heavens above.

Albie bit back a groan. “You’re not helping, Percy,” he said. “Testing my patience like this.”

“But—”

“No buts. You’re not well enough.” It was true. He’d tried for sunlight with open curtains in the bedroom today and it had done his head no favours at all.

Percy let out a sigh of frustration, a sound Albie was becoming familiar with. But he also knew Albie was right. “I’ll be fine tomorrow. You’ll see. And when I offer myself to you tomorrow night, you won’t deny me.”

Albie tightened his hold on him. His feisty little fox was back. So clearly he was feeling better, but not well enough. “No, I won’t deny you.”

Percy froze. “Oh?”

“Tomorrow,” Albie clarified.

Percy sagged. “Oh.”

Albie chuckled, rubbing Percy’s back some more. “Goodnight, my love.”

Percy sighed one last time. “You think you can call me that and any misgivings are done away with.”

Albie laughed again, his smile not even fading in sleep.

* * *

It wasearly afternoon when Albie and Robert rode back into the yard. They hadn’t gone too far, but Albie had wanted to check the progress of McAllister’s fence to see if it was encroaching on his land.

There’d been no progress yet, but it was something he’d keep an eye on.

Even after Percy had found Christopher and McAllister had sent the doctor over, Albie still didn’t trust McAllister. His father had been of the same opinion. Civility for civility’s sake, but never to be underestimated.

And never turn your back on him.

But when they rode into the yard, who should Albie see on the veranda waiting?

Percy.

Up and dressed and out of the house. He’d been up yesterday, in the living room only though. Then today he’d even managed breakfast at the table. He was feeling much better, and his smile was proof of that.

“How are you feeling?” Albie asked, riding over to him instead of heading to the stable. He noted Percy was wearing a knitted cap and not his wide brimmed hat, probably because of where it sat along the bruise at his temple.

“Feeling better. Can’t stay in the house another minute, Albie. Going mad with boredom.”

“How are your eyes? Not too bright out here?” It was overcast but there was glare.

“Not so bad.”

Albie grinned at him and slid off Minnie. He handed the reins to Percy. “Good. Can you take care of her for me?”

Percy grinned at him. “I sure can. Thank you, Albie.”

Albie watched him take Minnie across to the stable, then sat his backside against the veranda and waited. He didn’t want to just walk away and leave Percy, but he didn’t want to shadow him either.

“Percy’s up and about, huh?” Des asked him.

Albie nodded. “Not too soon, I hope. He’s sick of being cooped up. I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did, to be honest.”

Des snorted. “Same. He must’ve been pretty crook. Good to see him on his feet again. Just make sure he doesn’t overdo it. He’ll be too keen to catch up on missed work and see himself straight back in bed.”

Albie nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on the stable. “That’s what I told him.”

A short while later, Percy came back out, still wearing that grin. But Albie didn’t miss the way he squinted at the glare. Hm, maybe work out of the sun might be better for him.

“Oh,” Percy said, still grinning and looking at Albie. “You got time to sit around, huh? No chores need doing?”

Des laughed. “Yeah, he’s fine.”

Albie got up and started walking over, pointing to the stables. “Comments like that will get you mucking out the stalls,” he said.

Percy’s grin only seemed to widen as he followed him back into the stables.

Albie helped him muck the stalls out, of course. Mostly to keep an eye on Percy, making sure he didn’t overdo it or have a dizzy spell.

He did seem to tire a little, more than he would have normally, but he hadn’t stopped smiling yet. Even when Ox nipped his knitted cap and flung it across the stall.

He was even still smiling at dinner, though he was clearly tired. He didn’t even suggest reading afterward, and when he could barely keep his eyes open, Albie quietly told him to go to bed. Percy didn’t argue.

When Albie climbed into bed beside him, Percy still wore his shirt and socks and his long underwear and was sound asleep. He barely stirred as Albie pulled him close, only to fold himself into the crook of Albie’s arm, making himself small, his face a picture of peace and perfection.

Albie would never tire of it, of this. At the wonder of having this when he never thought it possible. He didn’t even care that Percy’s demand for intimacy tonight was dashed. He didn’t care if they never shared that again, because this, this right here with Percy safe and asleep in his arms, was all he’d ever need.

* * *

Until early morning,that was, when Albie woke to find himself on his side, Percy’s back pressed to his front, rubbing his backside against Albie’s very awake cock.

“Good morning, my love,” Albie murmured. “How are you feeling?”

He whined. “I’m sorry I fell asleep last night.”

That wasn’t an answer. He put his hand on Percy’s hip to still him. “Feeling better?”

He tried to rock back, searching for Albie’s hardness, but Albie held him firm. “You said you wouldn’t deny me.”

“Percy—”

Percy peeled Albie’s hand from his hip and pulled it around to feel his arousal, rock hard and leaking at the tip. Albie instinctively wrapped his hand around him and drove his hips forward, making Percy’s breath catch.

“Please, Albie. Please,” he cried, his back arching.

Albie pulled the front of his long johns down and positioned his erection to slide between Percy’s buttocks, sliding in behind his balls, his pre-come making the glide deliciously slick.

It was exquisite, hot and tight, and like this, he could imagine doing what Percy had asked of him before. To take him like this, to push inside him. He could imagine this was how it felt, only better.

So much better.

He slid back and forth and Percy rocked into it, his cock swelling in Albie’s hand, and a strangled cry escaped Percy’s throat as he climaxed. The sight, the sounds, the feel sent Albie tumbling over the edge with him and he shot his seed still nestled into the crevice of Percy’s buttocks.

Percy’s eyes widened as he felt it, his mouth open and he gasped. “Yes, Albie. Oh yes.”

Pleasure racked through Albie like he’d never felt, so intense, the aftershocks rattling him until his breaths were under control. His mind still spinning, he kissed the back of Percy’s neck on the spot that made him shiver.

“Percy,” he whispered. “My love.”

Percy was heavy in his arms, and he groaned out a laugh. “I feel better now,” he said. “To answer your question.”

Albie chuckled too. “Same. You keep waking me like this.”

“I’m not sorry. And so you know, I plan to keep waking you like this. I’ll never not want to wake up like this.”

Albie kissed Percy’s shoulder. “I should get you cleaned up.”

“Not yet,” he replied quietly. “I want to feel your release for a moment longer yet.”

“Oh my word, Percy!”

How could he say such a thing to him?

Percy laughed. “I’m not sorry for that either.”

Albie gave his shoulder a gentle kiss. “It’s not like you to say such things.”

“Because I’ve been without it for too long.” Percy rolled onto his stomach and stretched, wiggling his backside a little. “If you feel the need to do that again.”

Albie felt his face flame. “Percy,” he warned.

“I won’t be falling asleep tonight until you do that again, I promise you that.” He hummed and wiggled his backside. “I won’t be thinking of anything else all day.”

“Good heavens,” Albie moaned. “Neither will I, now.”

Percy laughed, pleased with himself, clearly. “You’re welcome.”

Albie heard the familiar clang of pots in the kitchen. “I should get up.” He rolled out of bed and pulled on his pants. Percy made no attempt to move, his naked backside still on full display.

And so help him, it made Albie’s cock twitch.

He could very much crawl back onto the bed and do exactly as Percy had asked... but he couldn’t. Daylight was breaking; he had jobs to do.

He busied himself getting dressed, then took the wash towel, wringing the water from it in the basin. He knelt on the bed beside Percy and wiped it over the swell of Percy’s backside. “To clean you up,” he murmured. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that he’d done this, covered Percy with his seed like this. But there was a flare of pride too, he couldn’t deny it.

He liked it.

Percy widened his legs and raised his buttocks off the bed, giving Albie the access he needed to wipe him clean.

And heaven help him, the rush of desire that swept over him.

Of seeing this part of Percy painted with his seed, the pink pucker of his most sacred place.

The deep pang of desire, the raw longing to take him, to claim him, to do the very thing that Percy had wanted him to do.

It took every ounce of self-control he had not to do it right then. It was almost overwhelming, and the way that Percy spread his legs and rocked his hips, wanting.

Albie almost lost the fight, but he clambered back some control. He tossed the cloth toward the hamper, then leaned over Percy’s back, growling in his ear.

“I will take you like this,” he bit out. “I will have you as you want because seeing you like this has me losing my mind.”

Albie shot up off the bed before he lost the fight to leave. The last thing he saw was the look of darkened surprise on Percy’s face as Albie closed the door.