Chapter Ten The Price of Staying #3
"Why? Warren spent years ensuring no one knew. You cannot hold yourself responsible for another man's concealment."
"Interesting advice."
Drew paused. "Fair."
"Didn't mean—"
"You did. It was deserved."
He tied the bandage and rested his palms on Hank's thighs.
The contact was steadying, though the physical response it provoked in both men was immediate.
Hank's arousal showed beneath worn denim; Drew's own body answered before either moved.
Desire survived anger, injury, and incomplete forgiveness.
Perhaps that was not weakness. Perhaps it was a form of truth.
"We cannot use this to avoid the conversation," Drew said.
"Wasn't planning to."
"You were looking at my mouth."
"Can talk to your mouth."
Drew nearly smiled. "Tell me what forgiveness means to you."
Hank's expression sobered. "Don't know yet."
"Then tell me what it does not mean."
"Doesn't mean what you did disappears. Doesn't mean I never doubt you. Doesn't mean you buy your way out."
"Agreed."
"And it don't happen once."
"Agreed."
"What does it mean to you?"
Drew considered. "That you permit the man I am now to answer for the man who arrived at the stockyard. That I do not demand trust before I earn it. And that when doubt comes, you ask me before you condemn me."
Hank's hands covered his where they rested on denim. "I can try."
"So can I."
The kiss grew naturally out of agreement.
Drew rose between Hank's knees; Hank's hands traveled to his waist and held him close.
The wagon shielded them from camp, though dawn had begun to pale the canvas.
Their mouths met slowly. Hank let Drew set the pace, a private surrender that felt more significant than any dramatic vow.
When hunger sharpened, Drew drew back. "You need sleep."
"Cruel man."
"A moment ago you feared I would purchase forgiveness. I will not purchase it with this either."
Hank looked offended. "Wasn't selling."
"Good. Then it will still be available tonight."
"You planning to ride into another gunfight before then?"
"Not unless one presents itself conveniently."
Hank pulled him down for one last kiss, then allowed himself to be put to bed.
The morning's work revealed the cost of the raid.
Forty-two missing cattle belonged to Mr. Alvarez; nearly a hundred carried the Bellamy brand.
Two men had broken bones. Drew's borrowed horse was dead.
He helped bury the animal on a rise above the basin, placing the saddle blanket over the grave because the gelding had carried him through rifle fire after his own mount fell.
Hank joined him there. "Name?"
"Cobb. Ben said he bit everyone."
"Liked you."
"He had poor judgment."
Hank put a hand between Drew's shoulder blades. They stood without speaking until the last earth was packed down.
At noon, Will returned from scouting with news that Briggs's surviving men had fled toward the Whitaker rail camp. He had also found a payroll chit in the pocket of one captured rider. The name on it matched a code in Warren's letter.
"Proof enough?" Will asked.
Drew examined the chit. "Enough to connect Briggs to the railroad payroll. Not enough to connect Warren to the violence. The company will call Briggs a rogue employee."
Hank spread the route map across a barrel. "Rail camp lies twenty miles northwest. Two hundred workers, armed guards, telegraph."
"And Warren," Drew said. "He will come personally now that the attacks have failed."
"How do you know?"
"Because humiliation is the one task he never delegates."
Sam joined them carrying coffee. "So we send a federal man."
"By the time a warrant arrives, the records will be burned," Drew said. "I can enter without one."
Hank's stare turned dangerous. "No."
"The heir returning in shame? Warren will believe it because he wants to."
"Luther saw you recover the herd."
"Luther also knows I burned no bridges publicly. My father will assume I am preserving leverage. He taught me to."
"And when he asks you to prove it?"
Drew looked at the map. "Then I lie better than I did to you."
Pain moved across Hank's face, but he did not end the discussion.
They argued routes, signals, cover stories, and escape points until objection became strategy.
Sam proposed hiding two riders among the rail crews.
Will knew a freight clerk willing to leave a stable gate unlatched.
Ortiz could hold the herd away from the main trail for one day without losing the deadline.
As sunset colored the basin, Hank brought the map, Warren's surviving letter, and the captured payroll chit to the small fire where Drew waited. He laid them between them, then sat close enough that their shoulders touched.
"One condition," Hank said. "You go in as Andrew Whitaker. You come out as the man who chose to return."
"I can promise the choice. I cannot promise the outcome."
"Honest answer. Hate it."
"I learned from an exacting teacher."
Hank turned his hand palm up. Drew threaded their fingers together above the map.
Together they began planning the betrayal of Warren Whitaker.