Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
CASH
W ith the herd safely enclosed in field number two, Lain called a halt to the proceedings under a grove of trees where they could tie the horses and remove their halters to let them graze and rest. A creek bisected this field, so the cattle and horses alike would get a chance to have some water before they pressed on.
By unspoken agreement, they all gathered under the trees, stretching out in the grass with their lunchboxes and bottles of water in a loose circle. Lain sat across from Cash, and Wilder was a short distance away to Cash’s right, focusing on the lunchbox in his hands like it would save him from an awkward conversation.
“Sure was kind of Mary-Beth and Annalise to make lunch for us,” Cash said, pulling out a square sandwich bag and opening the plastic zipper. Turkey, bacon and cheese, with lettuce and tomato. Fantastic.
“It was,” Lain agreed. “It’s a matter of time before Annalise wants to start coming along on these trips.”
“She’s got the makings of a good rider,” Cash said. “Few more years of practice and she’ll make a great cowgirl.”
Lain chuckled. His eyes slid toward Wilder, who was hiding behind the brim of his hat as he dug into his own food. He had no idea he’d stolen Lain’s attention, and even Cash couldn’t read the uncertain frown on Lain’s face.
When the silence registered, Wilder lifted his head and met Lain’s eyes—an accident, Cash was sure, since he’d done his best to avoid him all morning. He froze under the attention, his eyes moving from Lain to Cash and back.
“I thought you hated tomato,” Lain blurted, followed by a wince.
Wilder looked at Cash again—for help? Cash didn’t have the slightest clue how to break this tension between them. Wilder started chewing again, slower, and looked down at his sandwich as though seeing it for the first time. With a lopsided shrug, he went back to eating.
Tastes changed as people grew. Cash used to hate bananas as a kid, but he had no problem with them now. Lain and Wilder had been apart for so long that they couldn’t rely on what they used to know about each other. It was as though they were meeting again for the very first time. The men they were today—especially in Wilder’s case, after the environment he’d been mired in—had to be worlds different than the boys they once were.
Or maybe it was simpler than that. Maybe the food in prison was so bad that Wilder just learned to eat anything, even if he didn’t care for the taste.
Lain reluctantly turned back to his own food, his lips pursed at the corners.
Cash wanted to yell at them both. Neither of them knew how to talk to the other anymore, and the rift between them only deepened the longer they left it alone.
Lain, obviously scrambling for something to say, turned toward the others and nodded at Billy. “How’s the family? Big holiday plans again this year?”
“Yessir,” Billy said brightly, but his gaze was cool when it wandered past Wilder. “Rebecca always hosts, now that Momma’s knees are getting bad and she can’t spend all that time on her feet cooking for everybody. Rebecca’s girls have really shot up this year, too.”
“I imagine so. They’re what, ten and thirteen now, right?”
“That’s right.” Billy looked at Wilder, who had raised his head, and their eyes met. “Rebecca’s living the dream.”
Lain didn’t miss the tension, glancing between the two of them as he tried to work out what was under the surface.
“Wilder, you remember Billy and Rebecca, right? We went to school with them.”
Wilder ducked his head again. A reflexive reaction to Lain’s attention. “Mm-hm.”
Cash watched the realization dawn on Lain’s face. “Oh, that’s right! You and Rebecca dated for a little while, didn’t you?”
Wilder shoved a truly impressive amount of sandwich into his mouth and nodded, keeping his head low. Cash longed to reach out and comfort him. The awkwardness of this conversation felt like needles down his spine. He could only imagine how Wilder felt.
As though realizing he put his foot in it, Lain grimaced. “Funny how things work out, I guess.”
Billy smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “She was, uh, pretty tore up when the news broke back then. No offense, boss, but I’m glad she found better.”
Wilder’s head rose with an ice-cold, warning look as Lain’s mouth opened and closed, at a loss for an appropriate response as he looked between them.
“I don’t want your sister, Billy,” Wilder snapped.
“Well, you dated her, didn’t you?”
Lain was looking between them now like he was trying to figure out which wire to cut on a bomb about to blow.
Wilder’s nostrils flared. “I had to date someone .”
“What?” Billy asked indignantly. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means what it means! I had to date someone to get Dad off my back.”
“What do you mean ‘off your back?’” Lain asked, looking dumbfounded.
“Wilder,” Cash tried, but it was lost as Wilder went on.
“It means I’m gay,” Wilder said, his face bright pink. “I’ve always been fucking gay. Dad was on my ass about why I wasn’t dating anyone, said he was starting to think he had a faggot for a son, and I knew Becca had a crush on me. So I asked her out. I shouldn’t have. I led her on to make my own life easier, but I’m not sorry ,” he snarled through his teeth, “because if he’d found out the truth…” He shook his head. “I couldn’t let him find out the truth.”
Silence followed that statement. Lain was dumbstruck, staring at Wilder with a stricken expression. The rest of the hands were looking anywhere but at the twins, all wearing various degrees of shocked, surprised, or awkward faces.
Cash finally found his footing. He snapped his fingers at Billy and pointed at the horses. “Take a walk. Check on the herd. Get out of my sight.”
“What?”
“Go somewhere else,” Cash growled. “Now. I told you not to bring this shit up again. Go.”
Billy huffed, pushing to his feet with his things and marching away.
Time to get back to work, Cash thought. There was no salvaging this conversation. He was proud of Wilder for being honest, even if it was a shock to the others—including Lain, by the looks of it. They all needed time to let this information simmer. It wouldn’t bother most of the guys that Wilder was gay. Cash didn’t hide that he was bi, after all, and a couple of them even played wingmen for him when they went out to the local bars together, if he was in the mood to try for a hookup. But the vicious way in which Wilder had outed himself, the light he’d shined on their tumultuous past, had probably been the bigger shock. Lain didn’t talk much about the past, for obvious reasons, so while most of them knew the story, no one had ever heard any firsthand accounts about how Alan Blackwood treated his kids.
Now they knew. For better or worse.
“Everybody through eating?” Cash asked gruffly, rising to his feet. He tucked the sandwich wrapper into the insulated lunchbox. “Let’s water the horses and head out. We’ve still got the afternoon ahead of us. The sooner we get moving, the sooner we can get the cattle settled.”
None of them needed to be told twice, though Lain lingered at the back of the group like he barely remembered how to put one foot in front of the other. Wilder stormed ahead of them all, stuffing his lunchbox into his saddlebag and slinging himself up onto Blaze’s back. Tension lined his body, and Cash wanted to call him back, put his hands on him, kiss the frown from his face.
But he couldn’t. There had been enough shocking revelations for one day already. Revealing that he had a thing for Wilder might send Lain right over the edge. Learning that Wilder was gay could be a step in the right direction, but he didn’t want to widen the chasm between them by laying too much on him at once. He could give it more time.