16. Hudson
Chapter 16
Hudson
O n the drive back to the valley, Gabe told Hudson and Ty what the doctor’s final report had been.
“He came close to breaking a lot of bones,” said Gabe. “But he’s young and flexible, so he’s going to be okay. He’ll be sore for a few days, but he’s going to be okay.”
In the passenger seat, Ty didn’t move, but in the back seat, Hudson’s spirits lifted. He had an amber-colored bottle of high-dosage Tylenol in his hand. He wanted to reach forward and pat Ty on the shoulder, anywhere, but he was afraid that Ty would just brush him off.
All the way down the switchbacks, Hudson tried to figure out what had made his emotions take such a drastic turn, a willingness to connect. Seeing Ty fall off his horse and almost get trampled? Regretting every time he pushed Ty away? Spending enough time in the valley to figure out it was exactly as it seemed to be? Not a place full of traps and deceit, but a nice place where hardworking men had the time and space to figure out their lives.
When Gabe parked the truck, Hudson hopped out, thinking he’d need to help Ty along the path.
But Ty said, “I can walk,” and proceeded to show them that he could, though both Gabe and Hudson stayed close.
When they got to tent number eight, Gabe said, “I’ll go get you some water so you can take your pills, then bring you some dinner. Sound good?”
Gabe took off, which left Hudson and Ty at the bottom of the wooden steps leading to their tent. There was a wind through the trees and the scent of rain. And while Hudson thought it might be a good idea if they didn’t eat so many meals on their own like this, there was a sweet sense that they’d come home, however temporary that home was.
“Do you need help with the steps?” asked Hudson.
“No,” said Ty. Then he went up the first step. “Yes,” he said, sounding altogether like he didn’t like admitting it.
Hudson moved close to him, put his arm under Ty’s shoulder, then pulled Ty’s arm around his waist.
“We’ll go one at a time,” he said.
He guided Ty up the steps and into the tent, which felt a little stuffy after the fresh air outside. He helped Ty sit down and knelt to take off his cowboy boots so he could get undressed and into bed. He didn’t look up at Ty, but focused on his task.
“Why are you being nice to me again?” asked Ty, his voice hard.
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Hudson, though he knew exactly what Ty meant.
“First you were nice to me, looking after me,” said Ty. He carefully took off his blue chambray shirt and tossed it to the end of his cot. “I thought we were friends, or maybe even something more.”
“We—” Hudson cut himself off, feeling helpless to figure out what he was thinking, what he was feeling, let alone explain it to Ty.
“Then all of a sudden you gave me the cold shoulder, when I never did anything to you.” With a shudder, Ty eased himself onto his cot, giving Hudson a flash of purple-dark bruises along his legs and arms.
As Hudson propped the pillow from his own cot and arranged the two pillows behind Ty’s back, a pounding on the wooden steps announced that Gabe had arrived. He came into the tent carrying four bottles of water and a large brown paper sack.
“There're some waters and turkey sandwiches,” he said. “I can bring you ice cream and brownies later, if you want them.”
“No thanks,” said Hudson and Ty, almost in unison.
“Come get me if anything happens,” said Gabe. “I don’t care what time of night it is, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” said Hudson.
He took the bottles of water and lined them up on the floor, then placed the paper bag next to them. He wasn’t very hungry himself, and Ty didn’t seem much interested either, but the food would be ready when and if they wanted it.
When Gabe left, Hudson helped Ty take two of the pills, along with a good swallow of water. Then he helped Ty lie back down. He pulled the chain to turn off the light.
“What’re you going to do?” asked Ty. “Watch me sleep?”
“Yes,” said Hudson.
“Well, don’t stare at me,” said Ty. “I’ve had enough people staring at me today.”
“I won’t,” said Hudson.
He took off his boots and sat cross-legged on his cot, looking out through the tent screen at the shadows as they lengthened to twilight. He didn’t remember the last time he had sat so still. Still enough to feel his own heartbeat in his chest. Still enough to hear Ty breathing.
“So, what happened?” asked Ty in the semi-darkness.
“What do you mean?”
“From the first, you looked out for me,” said Ty. “But if it started to rain right now and I ran into those woods, you’d let me float right into space.”
“You won’t float into space,” said Hudson, not understanding what was going on in Ty’s head. Maybe it was the pain pills talking. Then again, they were only heavy duty Tylenol.
“I would,” said Ty. “You were like gravity to me. I thought I’d made the first friend I’d had in years and then all of a sudden you weren’t there.”
Hudson hung his head, fingers flicking the edge of the bedsheet on his cot.
Getting arrested five years ago had done a number on him, especially after Roger’s betrayal. Looking out for himself had been the only thing to save him from the ravages of prison.
Arriving in the valley hadn’t erased any of that protective behavior or, if it had, he’d closed himself off to anything being different.
“It’s because I couldn’t be close to anyone,” he said slowly. He had to fight hard to not simply shut up and pretend this conversation wasn’t happening. “Couldn’t figure out whether I needed to protect myself or not.”
“That counseling session on Saturday sure didn’t help,” said Ty.
“No,” said Hudson, agreeing.
He sensed that Ty was rolling on his side, as if to get more comfortable. And maybe, with the way the low light came into the tent, Ty could see his expression, even if he couldn’t see Ty’s.
That was fine. Ty deserved to be able to see all of Hudson’s emotions, without having to give Hudson anything in return. It was as though not only had a door opened, the ground beneath him had also vanished and now he was in free fall. The only thing that could save him was Ty’s understanding. His forgiveness.
Hudson’s body, without warning him, moved to the floor next to Ty’s cot. He could just rest his arms on the mattress and his chin on his arms.
“You were the brightest thing I’d seen in a long while,” said Hudson, not sure where the words were coming from. “It made me so angry, what they did to you?—”
“What they did to all of us,” said Ty. He lay quite still, his hand moving to touch Hudson’s head.
“What they did to all of us,” said Hudson, agreeing. “So when I looked at you, throwing up by the side of the road, you reminded me of all that was lost.”
“What do you mean I was bright?” asked Ty.
He carded his fingers through Hudson’s hair, and Hudson tipped his head sideways and sighed. It was easier in the darkness, all of it. Accepting the kind touch and reaching within himself for the truth to explain what he meant.
“My brother Roger convinced me to be the wheelman in that bank robbery,” he said, to begin with. “But then I was the only one who went to jail. He said he needed the money because his wife, Michelle, cost a lot to keep, her and those two boys?—”
“So he betrayed you,” said Ty.
“He did,” said Hudson, a little bewildered that Ty understood it all so quickly. “Then two years ago he tried another bank robbery job and got shot for his pains. And I don’t know what Michelle and the boys are doing, and I don’t care. I tell myself I don’t care but?—”
He wanted to explain all of it, even though he didn’t like thinking about Michelle and his nephews, and that it sounded so shitty when he said it out loud.
“You do care,” said Ty, softly. The stroke of his hair turned into a long pet along the back of his neck, a touch to his cheek. “I didn’t know you had a family,” he said, even more softly. “It’s hard not to care when they’re your only family. You’re lucky. I don’t have anyone.”
Hudson didn’t think of Michelle and her boys as his family. Didn’t want to think of them that way. He didn’t want to be connected with those three lives, let alone be responsible for them when he could hardly take care of himself.
“About the brightness,” Hudson said. “There was a kind of hopefulness in your eyes, even when they were dragging you to the hot box that one time. That drew me in and pushed me away at the same time. You can’t be weak like that, or they’ll turn on you.”
“But we’re not in the chain gang anymore,” said Ty. He leaned toward Hudson until their foreheads were almost touching. “You keep forgetting. I’ll keep reminding you.”
Those were tender words, so full of forgiveness. Closing his eyes tightly, Hudson’s breath caught in his throat. He let it go in a rush and pulled Ty’s hand to his mouth and kissed it. Kissed it again.
“I can’t seem to let it go, everything that happened.,” he whispered against the skin of Ty’s wrist. “All you had to do was go walking in the rain and you were washed clean.”
“It’ll take more walks in the rain,” said Ty. “And I’ll take you with me.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Hudson. “And watch over you.”
“And I’ll watch over you .”
It caught Hudson right in the chest at the thought of Ty being brave enough to protect someone else. To care for someone else, even after all he’d been through. That he’d care about Hudson, even after Hudson had been a total asshole to him.
“Get into bed with me,” said Ty, in a voice that sounded quite sure of what he wanted. Hudson’s whole body jerked with a start.
“I’ll hurt you,” he said, the words ragged in his ears.
“You won’t,” said Ty. “You’d be so still and so careful. I know you would, so just take off your clothes and get under these covers with me.”
Stripping himself down to his briefs, Hudson left his clothes on the floor and crawled into Ty’s cot. He cradled Ty to his chest with a sigh, moving as slowly as he could, shuddering when he’d finally settled with Ty in his arms.
“Okay?” he asked. “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” said Ty with a small sigh and a kiss to his neck.
Hudson circled his arms around Ty’s waist and kept very still while Ty tucked his head in the curve of Hudson’s shoulder. It was as though they were starting all over again and, as before, Ty was the perfect weight in his arms, cool skin, warm breath across his collarbone.
“I like you, Hudson,” said Ty, quite clearly in the growing darkness. “And I think you like me. You can, you know.”
“But what about—?” Hudson stumbled over the question. “What about at summer’s end?”
“We’ll decide when we get there,” said Ty. He nuzzled into Hudson’s neck. “We’ll decide when we get there, so we don’t need to worry about that now. Just hold me while I fall asleep?”
“Yes,” said Hudson.
Doing as Ty asked was the easiest thing he’d done in forever. And when he felt Ty lift his chin, it was easy to kiss him, quite gently, on the mouth. Softness in the dark, a tenderness that sent a ripple through him.
“Sleep now,” he said. “Wake me if you need more meds, and I’ll get them for you.”
“Thank you,” said Ty. “Don’t let go of me.”
“I won’t.”
“And I won’t let go of you,” said Ty, his voice sleepy.
Hudson tightened his arms, very slightly, and willed his body to relax. In the morning, they would take showers and eat breakfast and chop wood. They weren’t in the chain gang anymore, and Ty was right. The world was a good place and together they’d figure everything out.