twelve #2
“Who?” she smiled at him, letting the silence linger, clearly enjoying his unwillingness to ask about a certain person. “Oh, you mean David? Yes, he walked Estel this morning, but no one’s taken him out this afternoon.”
Of course, no one had any obligation to do anything for Estel.
It was a favor Carme was doing him, letting him use a box while he got well.
But he was surprised that David had abandoned the horse this afternoon, seeing as the animal needed to be walked at least twice a day until he was back in health.
But Carme must have seen some emotion on his face because she decided to take pity on him:
“David would have walked him this afternoon, but I knew you were coming. So I gave him this afternoon off to settle in.”
He felt as if the ground had suddenly dropped out from under him.
“What? … Why? What do you—?”
“David’s found a place to stay. Some mate of his from home. I gave him the afternoon free to get himself sorted out.”
Ramon’s mouth felt dry and he was unable to get a word out, couldn’t think what he was supposed to say to that anyway. Finally, he managed:
“Um, OK.… That’s… good for him, isn’t it? Get his own place, get on his feet.”
She nodded.
“He couldn’t keep bunking down here. That was only ever supposed to be temporary. If I’d had an inspection, I could have lost my post.”
She was right. Now that the stable was municipal, and Carme a public official, she had to do things by the book.
“I suppose that means…”
“Yeah, our conversation twigged a few things for me. I can’t keep running this place like a cowboy outfit. It’ll cause problems. I spoke to David about signing a proper contract. He’s bringing in his documents tomorrow.”
They looked at each other across Carme’s desk. The unspoken question they were both thinking hung in the air between them: if he comes back in tomorrow.
As Ramon approached Estel’s box, he heard the cranky gelding kicking at the wooden walls. They weren’t hard kicks but had a monotonous regularity, which he recognized as boredom.
“Hey, baby!” he called out.
Instantly the kicking stopped, and the gelding stuck his head out to greet him, ears pricked with alertness.
He whinnied in anticipation. Ramon slipped into the box beside him, and spent a few minutes stroking and pampering his horse.
He had brought some horse treats, which he fed him.
But Estel was feeling impatient, thoroughly fed up with being cooped up in his box all afternoon.
Ramon slipped a halter over his head and buckled it.
Then attaching a lead, he led him from the box and out toward the yard, the frisky gelding prancing and side-stepping all the way.
It was clear that his leg was much better.
There was now no swelling and it didn’t seem to be tender at all.
Ramon was able to feel down the length of the horse’s leg without him pulling away or reacting.
For half an hour, he led him around the yard.
He was tempted to try trotting or even riding him, but the vet had been clear that the healing process should go slowly.
He would wait for his verdict before trying to force any action that could make his injury worse.
Ernest had said that if they didn’t proceed in small steps, the horse could end up permanently lame.
Estel was a strong young horse with many years policing work left in him.
Putting him out to pasture at this early stage in his career would be a real tragedy.
The horses mostly enjoyed their work, even if some individuals—like Estel—could get a little sore-headed or fractious at times.
As they did their slow laps of the yard, Ramon’s thoughts also circled around again and again to Davey.
David, Davey… what did it matter now if he was gone?
They had had something real, electric, organic, even animal, hadn’t they?
There had been a connection. And it wasn’t just from his perspective, he was sure.
So why had David done this vanishing act on him?
There was no proof that he’d vanished… yet.
But he knew without wanting to know that it had to do with his being a policeman.
That had always been there, some niggling reticence in David’s eyes.
Ramon had seen it. He had to admit that now, hard as it was to accept.
David was nervous of the law. Carme had never seen his documents, probably never would.
His name might be David, but Cooke? That was made up, too easy, sure as he was a cop.
His heart sank. How had he managed to become so stuck on someone with whom he’d hardly spoken, kissed—more than once now.
Explosive kisses that had led to more, to them stripping down, getting naked.
With his lips he’d explored Davey’s body, and yet sexually, they’d done virtually nothing.
He barely knew the guy, and Davey had finally cut out.
It had been clear in Carme’s eyes, her pity for him as they avoided saying what they both knew.
He checked Estel. The horse was getting a gentle workout, nothing at all strenuous, but enough to keep the swelling down.
He led him back to his box, and rubbed him down.
Then after making sure he had enough feed and water, he said his goodbyes.
Estel was now Ramon’s only tenuous link to Davey.
The memory of the blond boy stooped over his horse’s leg, bandaging the wound, now felt like a small ingot of gold he treasured in his heart.
Davey lying there on his bed, clad in nothing but his blue briefs.
Davey sitting astride the saddle in the tack room, kissing Ramon for all he was worth, squirming in ecstasy as Ramon played with his nipple, moaning and whimpering as Ramon ravaged his throat with his tongue.
The feeling of his hand running down the boy’s torso, and him laying between Davey’s thighs, his face inches from Davey’s hard cock, about to suck him, smelling the musk of his groin, wanting to suck him.
Wanting to do more than that. Wanting to lift those beautiful sculpted legs up onto his shoulders, gaze down into his blue, blue eyes as he pushed forward gently, not wanting to hurt him but wanting in, wanting to hurt him a little maybe to see him wince as Davey opened to him, hear him cry out… in pain or in pleasure?
Estel nuzzled him, wanting another treat, and he came back down to earth.
His dick was hard, straining against his pants.
He wanted to masturbate thinking about Davey, but not here, not in front of his horse.
That would feel weird. He gave Estel a last treat, adjusted himself so that his erection wasn’t too obvious, and left the box.
His steps led him along the row toward the tack room.
If Carme caught him going in there, there was nothing he could say that would be a valid excuse.
He had absolutely no reason to enter the tack room, climb the ladder, and enter the gloom of Davey’s room.
But that was what he found himself doing, standing in the near dark because he didn’t want to risk turning on a light.
Davey’s bed was neatly made as if he’d never slept in it—or they’d never lain on it together, mussing up the blankets, his weight pressing down hard on Davey, holding his arms beside his head as he kissed him, as they felt each other’s erections straining against each other.
Ramon stepped toward it and knelt down, pressing his face into the pillow and blanket.
Could he smell him? Was that the faint taint of him?
Perhaps it was, or was he just imagining it?
Was this Davey’s scent he was inhaling? The truth was, he could no longer tell, but wanted it to be true.
Frustratingly, he couldn’t quite remember Davey’s scent.
And it was so unique, so special. He turned his face to the side and looked toward the bedside table.
The photo was gone. Then in the half-light, he saw something on the floor.
It was the frame, lying face down. Picking it up, he saw it was now empty, no photo.
Gone. Like Davey. He was about to leave it where it was when a thought occurred to him.
He looked around the room and spied a plastic supermarket bag on the desk.
Not the best but it would have to do. He retrieved it and gently stored the frame in the bag, wrapping it lightly, not wanting to admit his intention even to himself.
Luckily the package fit comfortably in his jacket pocket, so he wouldn’t have to offer any embarrassing explanations to Carme when they said goodbye.
He looked carefully around the room, keen to find any last vestige of Davey’s presence, but there was nothing, no unwashed and forgotten tee-shirt or underwear he might have treasured.
The side of the room Davey had occupied, with its bed, side table, mirror, and sink, was as neat and spotless as the other side of the room, with its cluttered desk, was messy.
With a heavy heart, he climbed down the ladder.