Chapter 8

Percy wokeup far too warm and far too comfortable. His body ached from not moving, and it took him a second to remember where he was.

In Alpine Falls, at the hotel.

In Albie’s bed.

The source of the warmth was Albie. Wrapped around him like a blanket. Percy couldn’t remember a time when he felt as safe as he did right then.

In the arms of a man.

Albie Bramwell, no less.

Handsome, strong, stubborn Albie.

His boss, no less.

But a man. Something he never thought he’d ever do. When Albie had suggested he take the bed or share with him, Percy wasn’t letting that opportunity slip through his fingers.

Sharing a bed as children was common. He’d shared with his siblings most of his life. But as adults?

As grown men?

Never.

He closed his eyes and smiled, sinking into the safety, the impossibility, the dream...

Until someone in the room snorted and spluttered, scaring Percy half to death. He shot up, then saw it was Robert in the other bed, still asleep but not far from waking. Percy let out a huge breath of pure relief, and taking in the sight of Albie asleep one last time, Percy slipped out of bed.

It was almost morning. Daylight would be here soon enough, so he pulled on his boots and coat and went down to check on the horses.

He wasn’t sure why he expected something bad to have happened. He just didn’t trust McAllister’s men to not try to hurt Albie any way they could.

But the horses and dogs were fine. Their saddles were right where he’d left them. Everything was exactly as it should be. All the other horses in the stables were docile, so Percy assumed he might have been the first one there. It was still before dawn, and with the amount of liquor those men had drunk the night before, he didn’t think they’d be up for a while yet.

He set about saddling their three horses, and when he was done, feeling eyes on him, he turned to find Albie watching.

“Wondered where you got to,” Albie said. His cheeks were pink, from embarrassment or the cold, Percy wasn’t sure.

Would they talk of last night?

Would Albie bring it up?

Percy hoped he would and wouldn’t in equal measure. Wanting to know his thoughts and fearing the words out loud all the same.

“Wanted to check on our lot,” Percy replied. “I don’t trust... some people.”

Albie smirked, knowing exactly who those people were. “Me either. I’m grateful you came to check.” He held up a dish of something that looked terrible. “Clara caught me on the way out. She said she saw you come out here. A little something for our dogs.”

“Oh, good,” Percy said. “For a second there, I thought you were going to say it was for me.”

Albie laughed but fed the dogs, and with the few scraps remaining, he tossed them to the dogs in the stall across the way.

“I want to go to the store before the saleyard,” Albie said.

The saleyards was on the way out of town, so that made sense. “After anything in particular?”

“Just more supplies. Then I figure I don’t need to come back for a while.”

“Good idea. Between the three of us, we can ration out the weight of it.”

Albie smiled and stared as if he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Then he swallowed hard. “Uh... Did you sleep okay?”

So they were talking about it.

“Best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time,” Percy admitted. “Thank you. I know I said the floor wasn’t the worst thing I’ve slept on, but I dunno... maybe it was.”

Albie’s smile was brief. “You’ve slept in some less favourable places I take it.”

Percy wasn’t sure he wanted to admit this, but something told him to. That Albie deserved to know. “Outside. Under the stars isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Well,” he amended, “the stars are okay. But rain isn’t, and winter up in these parts is no fun.”

“Winter in these parts can kill a man,” Albie said quietly. “I take it you have no family?”

Percy winced, the pain still too fresh. “I do. Kind of.” He pulled the girth strap on Ox’s saddle, then dropped his hands, not game to look at Albie. Too scared of what he’d see.

“But you left them,” Albie offered, his voice warm and closer than it was before.

“I had to,” Percy murmured. “I wasn’t welcome. It’s a long story...”

Albie was even closer now. Percy could feel the heat of his body behind him.

“I was supposed to be married,” Percy said. “But I refused.”

“Married?” Albie whispered.

Percy nodded. “It was all arranged. A wealthy family my father was securing leverage with. My father had lost a lot of money... That’s a long story for another time, perhaps. But this business deal.” He shrugged. “They had a daughter, but I refused.”

“A wealthy daughter,” Albie mused. “Why did you say no?”

Percy shot him a look then, their gazes locking, unable to hide anything.

You know why.

Percy couldn’t bear the scrutiny. The honesty. It was too much, and he looked away. “It was no more than a business deal and I wanted no part of it. I would never marry someone I didn’t love... couldn’t ever love.” He shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I was told to leave and not come back until I could see reason. Reality would prevail and impart some clarity, my father said. He’d provided a good life for me and my siblings, and I should have been respectful and...”

Albie put his hand on Percy’s arm. “I’m sorry. How long have you been on your own?”

“Four months.”

Albie winced then, as if this hurt to hear. Then he licked his lips, his voice barely a whisper. “When you said you couldn’t ever love her...”

Percy’s gaze caught Albie’s, both of them wide-eyed and scared, too afraid to say the words out loud.

Words that couldn’t ever be taken back. Words that could ruin a man.

“I tried to love her,” Percy whispered, but then he shook his head. “She was pretty, and I tried to find something that appealed to me but... my dreams are not filled with the likes of her.”

Albie blinked a few times, licking his lips as if his mouth had gone dry. “What are the likes you dream of?” His voice was so soft, so pained, gruff. “Perhaps they match my own.”

Percy couldn’t believe it.

Yes, he’d caught Albie looking his way a time or two, and they had slept in each other’s arms last night...

But to hear it, to see the vulnerability in Albie’s face, the fear in his eyes.

“If I had to choose,” Percy whispered, his gaze falling to Albie’s lips. “Between her bed and yours, I would choose yours.”

Albie’s breath left him in a woosh, just as a door slammed and men’s voices came across from the hotel.

Albie and Percy separated, each pretending to be tending to a horse, fixing straps that didn’t need fixing.

The two men who came in weren’t McAllister’s men. Albie called one of them by name, but Percy didn’t retain it.

His mind was too busy reeling, his heart hammering, fingers trembling.

Had they just had that conversation?

Had Percy just admitted his deepest fears and secrets out loud?

And not to just anyone, but his boss?

He began to feel a little unwell, his stomach churning. He pushed the heel of his hand against his stomach and tried to breathe in deep. Albie caught him. “Are you ill?”

He shook his head quickly, taking a step back. “No. I’m fine. I’ll bring the horses out. Is Robert ready?”

Albie gave a concerned nod, but there was sadness in his eyes too. “He was getting himself dressed when I left. I’ll go fetch him and see about some bread and fruit for breakfast.”

Percy nodded, and it was better not to meet Albie’s gaze. So he ignored Albie, pretending the entire conversation hadn’t even happened by making himself busy, so he began bringing the horses out. It was easier that way...

He didn’t want to lose his job.

But he also didn’t want to lose the friendship he’d newly forged with Albie. The first person in far too long to show him real kindness.

But oh boy, falling asleep in his arms had been the best night of his life.

He’d never experienced anything like it. It was heaven, and everything had felt right. Every doubt he’d had about himself was confirmed. Being with a man was what he truly wanted. Courting Emily at his parents’ wishes had given him nothing but dread and a greasy belly. But the idea of being with Albie was all heart flutters, tummy butterflies, and warmed blood.

He needed to lie in his arms again. He wanted to know what it felt like to touch his skin, to feel his kiss. He longed to feel Albie’s strong arms around him forever.

Though now, in the cold reality of daylight, he doubted he ever would again.

He was so conflicted, so torn. So devastated.

Mostly, he was terrified.

So closing himself off and getting back to work, making himself so busy Albie couldn’t fire him was the only thing Percy could do.

He readied the dogs and horses, and when they’d gone to the store, Percy made sure to take all of Albie’s wares and load the saddle bags. Oats, flour, sugar. Whatever Albie handed him, Percy took without question.

Without eye contact.

When they went to the stockyards, it seemed half the town was there. Crowded with people, horses, dogs, and noise.

Too much noise for Percy’s liking.

“I’ll stay with the horses,” he declared, taking their reins.

It made sense that Robert would go with Albie anyway. Like it made sense for Percy to stay out of everyone’s way and mind their horses and purchases, keeping his head down and out of trouble.

He didn’t know how long they’d be so he stayed at the back of the lot by the trees so the horses and dogs could rest before the trek home. So he could get his thoughts together.

He couldn’t believe what he’d told Albie in the stable. He couldn’t believe he’d uttered those words out loud to anyone, let alone him. A man he’d shared a bed with, no less.

“If I had to choose between her bed and yours, I would choose yours.”

Percy was mad at himself. Mad for being so foolish. Mad for hoping...

It was sometime later when Albie and Robert came back. Albie’s jaw was clenched and he had murder in his eyes, and Robert gave Percy a quick shake of his head, silently telling him not now. They mounted up and rode out of the saleyards without a word and began the trip home.

Even though Percy was curious, he wasn’t game to ask what happened. Business matters weren’t his concern, and he didn’t want to put himself in Albie’s firing line.

As it was, Albie kept a tight hold on Ox’s reins and he shifted in his saddle a time or two, clearly frustrated and angry. Percy had to wonder how long it’d take before Albie let some steam out, and he made it as far as the Flagstaff Road junction.

“That blasted McAllister,” he seethed. “I expected no less from him, but I’d given more credit to John Bailey than he’s worth, apparently. The man’s a coward.”

“You did well,” Robert said. “You kept your cool and Bailey knew you saw through him.”

Saw through him?

“What happened?” Percy asked. He couldn’t help it now they’d brought it up.

“Bailey gave Albie a lower price than the others,” Robert explained. “Because McAllister told him to.”

“What?” Percy cried. “That’s not right!”

“There’s no right or wrong with him,” Albie said. “Only whatever he says goes. It’s because I refused his offer yesterday in the saloon. I showed him up in public, being agreeable and polite when he wanted a fight.”

“You showed him respect,” Percy said.

“More than he deserved,” Albie mumbled. “And never again. The way McAllister stood there today and watched with that smug smile on his face. He wants to see me fail, and I’ll be damned if I let him.”

There was that stubborn pride again. And for what it was worth, Percy loved to see it. Being determined and proud is what it took to survive in these mountains, Percy was sure of it.

“What did you say to Bailey?” he asked. “Was it a bad price?”

Albie sighed. “It wasn’t terrible. It wasn’t low enough that I’d take my stock back, but it wasn’t the market price, and he knew it. He couldn’t even look me in the eye.”

“He told him thank you,” Robert said. “He said he’d hoped for better. Bailey said that was the best price he could do, and Albie said no, not the price. He’d hoped better from the man his father had called a friend. Albie took his money, I tipped my hat, and we left.”

Percy laughed. “You said that?” he asked Albie. “For real?”

Albie finally smiled. “Meant every word of it too. My father would be disgusted. That’s what I should have told him.”

“Nah,” Robert said. “You did well. You were more a man today than the likes of any of them could ever be. Don’t let ’em get to ya, Albie.”

That made Albie smile, and the rest of the ride was easy then. The mood between them, anyway. The day was warm for winter, though there were dark clouds coming in, and Percy hoped it held off until they were home.

They arrived back at Echo Creek in the late afternoon, low clouds promising sleet. It was cold and bitter, which was an odd contrast because coming through those gates and riding down the drive to the house, Percy felt nothing but warmth in his bones.

Like coming home.

He wanted to belong here with his whole heart.

They unloaded the horses and Percy took them into the stables. He didn’t miss the wary glances from Albie, but he ignored them all the same.

Pretending nothing had happened—that he’d said nothing, that he’d admitted nothing—was the only way forward.

Then he went to check on the chickens and grab some more firewood, but Des had beaten him to it. So he decided cleaning up the bunk quarters was in order. Not that it was terrible but changing out of his now-damp clothes seemed like a good idea. Then he decided washing his dirty clothes and drying them by the fire while the place was empty was worth doing.

And that’s where Des found him.

“There you are. Albie wanted to know if you’re making damper again, which I gotta say, I hope you were,” he said with a smile. Then he was looking around the now-tidy room. “Are you not getting worked hard enough you need to find extra?”

I’m avoiding someone...

“The chickens were done, and the firewood was too,” Percy said. “Horses are all good, dogs are fed, and the vegetable garden is covered.”

Des nodded slowly. “My knee told me this morning there was a cold snap coming. And I’ve been here two days by myself with nothing but time.”

“What did you do to your knee?” Percy asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Was breaking in a horse that wasn’t ready. Came off and broke it bad,” he said, tapping the side of his knee. “I was workin’ for McAllister at the time and I told him the horse weren’t ready, so he told me he had no use for me not bein’ able to walk right.” He shrugged. “Albie’s old man took me in. Said my mind for work was worth two able bodies.”

“He sounds a lot like Albie.”

Des nodded. “The apple, it never falls far.”

No, it doesn’t...

“So McAllister’s always been a horse’s behind, huh?”

That made Des laugh. “Oh, yeah. Driven by greed and spite.” Des tapped his leg again. “He told the doc to take my leg off. I had to beg him not to. Though when the pain gets bad, I’m half tempted to take it off myself.”

Oh, good heavens.

Percy shook his head. “If it ever gets that bad, you let me know. I’ll do your work for ya so you can rest up.”

Des smiled at him, then rubbing his hand over his stubble and looking back at the house, he sighed. “We better not be late. Don’t reckon I wanna see if Albie’s temper matches his father’s.”

Percy snorted. “No, we better not. Though as mad as he was, he kept his cool twice up against the likes of McAllister while we were in town. And his men. Got more guts than brains, I’d reckon.”

Des laughed. “Been like it since he was a youngin’. If he sets his mind to it, consider it gettin’ done. Used to drive his old man mad.”

Percy smiled, despite his heavy heart.

Albie was respected by everyone who knew him well enough, and Percy could easily see why. He liked him the second he saw him. He might have had different reasons—being so handsome and all—but the more he got to know Albie, the more he liked him.

And then last night happened, sharing a bed. And then this morning in the stable...

And now he had to go face him.

“Better get this damper made then, huh?” Percy said.

“Please. And maybe try saving the stew while you’re in there. Don’t tell him I said that.”

Percy laughed. “I wouldn’t dare.”

He pulled on his coat and hurried across the yard and into the back door of the house, coming into the mudroom and then the kitchen, almost running into Albie.

“Here for damper duty,” Percy said, trying on a smile he didn’t truly feel.

Albie stopped, pan in hand. His eyes met Percy’s, and he licked his lips. “Thank you. Or you could teach me how to make it, then you wouldn’t have to worry about it again.”

“I don’t mind doing it,” Percy said. “Though I should probably wash my hands first.”

Albie winced. “Look, about this morning,” he whispered. “I, uh?—”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Percy said quickly. He wanted to explain, to speak his truth, but no. He needed to put his head down and do what he was here for. “I’m just really grateful for this job and a place to stay, so if you don’t mind, I’ll start the damper. Des and Robert can’t have a late supper.”

Albie opened his mouth to say something, but the front door swung inward and Robert came in. “Albie, I think there’s a newborn calf down.”

“Oh, blast!” Albie turned and went for his coat and stopped, looking back at Percy.

“Go,” he said. “I’ll fix dinner. It’s fine.”

With a nod, he pulled his coat and hat on and ducked out the door.

Percy didn’t dwell on the too-quiet house or the ache in his heart. He took the flour and put himself to work.

* * *

Robert and Albiecame in late, mostly wet and cold, and warmed themselves by the fire while Percy served up dinner. There was a calf and cow now in the stable.

Born before spring and unlikely to survive, but they’d do all they could to help it.

“Thank you,” Albie said quietly as they sat down at the table. Percy had set the table and fixed dinner, both damper and stew, and because Albie wasn’t there to tell him not to, he’d made a little surprise for after.

Damper he could make, yes. As for the stew, he wasn’t entirely sure... Albie had started it, but Percy had taken over, and he’d added a pinch of this and that, something he’d seen his mother do. And from the way everyone ate in silence, shovelling it in, he figured it wasn’t too bad.

“And I made something else,” he said, getting up. “For two reasons. One, a successful run down the mountain to the saleyard. No injuries, no illness, and Albie didn’t punch McAllister in the mouth.”

They laughed as Percy’d hoped they would. He took the special treat off the stove where it’d been cooling and put it in the middle of the table.

“What’s the second reason?” Des asked.

“Well, the reason number two is,” Percy said, taking the cover off the small pot, “that Albie wasn’t here to stop me.”

The three men at the table peered into the pot. “What’s that?” Albie said.

“Sweets,” Percy said. “Cocky’s Joy my grandma used to call it. It’s a sweet damper baked with treacle syrup.”

It was only very small. Maybe one or two bites each and no more.

Percy could feel Albie’s gaze on him, but he didn’t dare look. Instead, he cut the small sweetbread into quarters and scooped it out, each with some syrup on top.

“It wasn’t much of the flour ration,” Percy said, feeling the need to explain. “I thought it’d be nice, is all.”

“And because I wasn’t here to stop you,” Albie said.

Percy looked at him then and found him smiling at him, his eyes soft. “Well, yes.”

Robert made an obscene sound and both Percy and Albie turned to him. He had his eyes closed, savouring the flavour. And Des was shaking his head as he chewed, smiling.

It prompted Albie to taste it, and Percy did the same.

It wasn’t as good as his grandma’s, but oh boy, it was heavenly.

“Now Albie,” Des said. “I got the utmost respect for you, and we sure do appreciate you taking on the cook’s duty, but I think we can all agree that Percy should take over.” He looked at Robert. “Right?”

Robert nodded. “Sorry, Albie, but he’s got you beat. That was the best thing I’ve had in a long time.”

Albie turned to Percy, still licking treacle from his lip.

“Oh, I don’t want to take anyone’s job,” Percy said quickly. This was the last thing he needed today. “I’m not stepping on toes, or upsetting?—”

“Dinners, yes,” Albie said. “Let’s see how you go with breakfast tomorrow. We’ll see whose porridge is best, huh?”

Robert and Des both laughed, and Percy nodded, embarrassed. Or maybe it was how Albie smiled at him...

He needed to clear his head. He stood up and began stacking plates. “I’ll get this squared away,” he said.

“You don’t have to do that,” Albie began, but Percy was already on his way to the kitchen.

He already had some water boiling on the stove, so it was no trouble. And he wanted to keep busy. He needed to keep busy. And he could get all this squared away while the others finished their tea and talked of the trip into town, and by the time he was done, he could say goodnight and go to bed.

That was his plan, anyway.

And he almost had it. The kitchen was clean and Robert and Des were putting on their coats, so Percy went to join them.

“I’ll see you in the morning then,” he said to Albie, still avoiding eye contact. He had his coat, almost to the door, when Albie stood up.

“Percy,” he said. “A word, please.”

Percy’s heart almost stopped, his belly in knots. He ducked his head, and while Des looked between them, he did no more than clap Percy on the shoulder and pulled the door closed behind him.

Percy stood by the door, half ready to bolt. He wanted to run, though he doubted he could get his feet to move. He held his coat, knuckles white, and blinked a few times, waiting for the axe to fall.

“About this morning,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean it, and I’m sorry. I won’t say anything like it again. I really like this job, Albie, and I want to help as much as I can?—”

Albie took the coat from Percy and hung it up on the coat rack. “I wasn’t going to talk about that,” he breathed.

“If it’s about me taking over the cooking job, I didn’t ask for that. Please don’t?—”

Albie surprised him by laughing. “You can have it. I hated it and was never any good at it, and you clearly are.”

Percy looked up at him then. They were barely a foot apart, and Albie’s height over him almost made Percy dizzy when he finally met his gaze.

Albie’s eyes were soft and warm. He’d never seen him look like that at anyone else. As if it were a private look, just between them.

Then Albie was leaning in... or Percy was. Or perhaps it was the room spinning, or because Percy had forgotten how to breathe.

Albie blinked and straightened up, clearing his throat. He even managed a small step back, composed enough to speak. He straightened down his hair, then his shirt. “Uh. The other day,” he said. “You said you could help me.”

“Help with what?” Percy asked, barely a whisper, his brain a scrambled mess.

Albie smirked. “Reading. You said you could help me at reading.”