12. Hudson
Chapter 12
Hudson
B y the time Hudson was allowed to dismount, he felt sore all over, like he’d been pummeled. He was sweaty, smelled like horse, and longed for a shower.
There’d be time before dinner to clean up, luckily, but first he had to pay attention to both Zeke and Ty, as each attempted to show him something they felt he ought to know. How to unsaddle. How to groom. How to hold your palm flat to give the horse a treat.
All of this was fine, but it paled in comparison to the expression on Ty’s face. The lightness in his step. The glow in his eyes. Hudson could not believe he’d never guessed what Ty did before he’d been arrested.
Sometimes you found out about a guy through the prison grapevine. Other guys, most of them really, played it close to the chest. Never saying the truth when a lie would do.
But Ty. Ty was something else altogether. He’d mounted his horse, his face ablaze with joy. He did it like he’d been born doing it, as if there’d not been two years since he’d hit the saddle.
The horse, Masie, had done exactly as Ty asked her, though Hudson couldn’t see how Ty had guided her. Invisible instruction, somehow. He was a horseman, the real deal. Something out of the Wild West that Hudson hadn’t imagined even still existed.
After the riding lesson, as Hudson followed Ty along the path to tent number eight so they could grab their things and take a shower before dinner, he did his best not to stare. Staring got you nowhere. Or it got you killed.
But seeing Ty in this new light, it was pretty hard not to stare. At his square, straight shoulders and trim hips, sashaying down the path in those cowboy boots that made his backside altogether pert and sassy.
When Ty paused to take off his hat to scrape his hair back from his forehead, and then replaced the hat, Hudson was staring hard. At least Ty couldn’t see him because he was focused on where they were going and not on Hudson’s runaway thoughts.
Mentally he stopped himself short, an icy cold fear filling his chest. What was he doing? What was he even thinking?
It could never happen between them. Never. But maybe thinking about it was allowed, as long as he never gave voice to his thoughts. As long as he remained focused on protecting himself. Which meant that he had to make it stop between them. The shy flirting, responding to Ty’s smiles. Holding Ty in the night.
At the tent, they grabbed their shower things, with Ty sadly taking off his cowboy boots, giving them a quick buff with the blanket before he slid into his flip-flops. Hudson followed suit, except for the buffing. He’d do that later.
He followed Ty to the showers and told his body to knock it off. It wasn’t appropriate. Ty deserved to have his joy in peace without being bothered by the lick of heat that stirred in Hudson’s belly. So, he focused on getting clean as quickly as possible, shaving in the mirror without staring at Ty doing the same thing.
He’d been out of his mind to offer comfort the night before. Not because Ty seemed to be taking advantage of the kindness, but because his own body was betraying him. Busting out of a five-year monkhood like his body had any right to expect that anything good would come out of him and Ty doing more than simply sharing warmth on a cool, damp summer evening.
He’d be hurt again if he cared about Ty. Cared for Ty. Told him how he felt. He needed to shut it off, and now, rather than let it go on for even one more heartbeat.
“Think it’ll rain?” asked Ty, catching Hudson’s gaze in the mirror.
“I’m not a weatherman,” said Hudson with a snap. He sure as fuck hoped it didn’t rain, because he’d have no defenses against Ty needing to be warmed up. No defenses at all.
Caring about Ty, caring for Ty, was a sure way to get hurt, so it could never happen. He needed to draw back, and hard. He needed to stop being nice. Stop worrying about Ty or doing things for him. It was the only way to protect himself.
He started raising his defenses at dinner. It was the best way to make a clean break. He did this by standing in line for food with Ty, sure. They were tentmates, so it was only natural. But after he got his tray piled with food, he went and sat in between two men he barely knew so Ty couldn’t sit beside him.
Ty had been following him, but when he saw there was no room for him to sit, he stood for a moment, tray in his hands, his brow furrowing. It wasn’t grade school, but it felt as though Hudson had made a grade school move, freezing the other guy out. Making Ty the odd man, instead of an included one.
Hudson focused on his meal, wishing he didn’t feel so much like an asshole. He ignored it when Ty walked away and went to sit elsewhere.
After dinner, it didn’t rain, and there were two groups, one that wanted movies in the mess tent, the other that wanted a campfire. Hudson watched to see which way Ty would go and then picked the other route. Which turned out to be movie night.
As he sat in the middle of a row of men, he watched the movie without seeing it. Didn’t eat any popcorn or candy. Didn’t laugh. Didn’t move a muscle until both movies were over. And told himself his heart wasn’t made of ice.
He wasn’t a cold-blooded asshole, but it was better this way. He knew that. Better and safer to be on his own. Besides, Ty was a grown man and could make other friends.