Cattle Valley 26 - Shadow Soldier (8 page)

After cleaning up the broken pieces of glass and sweeping the rest of the mess into the dustpan, Aaron disposed of it in the trashcan. “Rest in peace,” he whispered. He turned to stare at Groucho. “You owe Deacon another sugar bowl.”

He bent down and gave the kitten a couple of good scratches. “Stay off the counter or Deacon’ll have you stuffed and mounted.”
Smiling, he left the shop, making sure to lock the door behind him. He went next door and took a deep, calming breath before reaching for the handle. He stepped inside and studied the room, searching for Deacon.
“Deacon’s in the back corner,” the bar owner yelled.
Aaron threw up his hand. “Thanks.” A name was on the tip of his tongue. Of course he knew the man’s last name was O’Brien, it was on the outside of the building, but he couldn’t think of his first name. He continued to think about it on his way to the dimly lit table. “This isn’t bad at all.” After taking a seat across from Deacon, Aaron looked around. “You were right, this is a good time to come. The crowd doesn’t bother me at all.”
Deacon took a sip of his bourbon and smiled. “What crowd?”
“Exactly.” Aaron picked up the cold mug of beer. “Did you order already?”
“Yeah.” Deacon rested his forearms on the table and leaned towards Aaron. “So what did Groucho get into?”
“Well, let’s just say, I hope your sugar bowl wasn’t a family heirloom.”
Deacon ran his fingers through his hair. “That damn cat.”
“He looked really ashamed of himself if that helps.” Aaron doubted God would hold the white lie against him.
“I thought I could just ask you to check on him once or twice a day while I’m in DC, but I’m starting to think the little bastard needs a fulltime babysitter.”
“I don’t mind staying at your place if you don’t. I have to work tomorrow, but I’m off for two days after that.” Aaron liked the idea of staying at Deacon’s place while he was out of town. They’d spent several nights together there since getting the kitten, and except for the bed, he’d found the apartment quite comfortable. It was a huge improvement over the way he’d viewed the place the first time he’d seen it. Aaron supposed it had something to do with his growing feelings for the man who lived there.
“I don’t mind at all. To be honest, I’d feel better if you were there to keep an eye on the place.”
Aaron leant back in his chair when…oh, shoot, what was the guy’s name?
Mad Dog?
“Thanks, Moby,” Deacon said, winking at Aaron.
Moby!
Aaron said the name silently to himself several times in hopes he’d remember it. “Looks good.”
“The best,” Moby replied. “You need refills?”
“We’re fine for now.” Deacon waited until Moby walked off before chuckling. “You couldn’t remember his name, could you?”
“Did it show?” Aaron unrolled his silverware and set his napkin in his lap.
“Only to a trained observer.” Deacon gestured to the bar. “That’s Sean O’Brien behind the bar, and once in a while you’ll catch a glimpse of Jay through that cut-out window to the kitchen.”
“I’ve met Jay before. He introduced himself at the grocery store right after I moved to town, but I’ve never really talked to him. Sean, I recognise, but I couldn’t remember his name either.” Aaron jabbed a thick slice of carrot with his fork. “I swear I didn’t used to be this bad with names. Then again, I’ve never lived in a place where everyone seems to know each other. Half the time when we’re called to an emergency, Luke knows the people and their family history.”
“A town like this does take some getting used to. To tell you the truth, I don’t know many folks either unless they’ve come into the shop or I’ve bumped into them either here or at Deb’s Diner. Maybe the two of us need to try getting out more, mixing with the locals.”
Aaron chewed a piece of roast, trying to figure out why Deacon suddenly wanted to chat it up with people. From everything he’d heard from Luke, Deacon was almost as reclusive as Aaron. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I feel fine. Why?”
“Just wondering why you want to make friends all the sudden. Does it have something to do with you quitting your job? Do you think that would be a good way to drum up more business for the store?”
Deacon sighed. “For the last time, you don’t have to worry about the store. I have more money in the bank than I’ll probably be able to spend in my lifetime.”
Aaron didn’t care about Deacon’s money as long as he had enough to live on. Still, he couldn’t let the moment pass without teasing Deacon. “I’ve always wanted a wealthy older man in my life.”
“Good, because this old fool doesn’t plan on letting you get away any time soon.” Deacon reached over and speared one of Aaron’s potatoes with his fork. “Eat up before I have to finish that for you.”
Aaron took another bite to make Deacon happy. “They need some music or something in here.”
Deacon swallowed his bite of food before answering. “Ummm, actually, I asked Moby if he’d turn off the music while we were here. I knew I was asking a lot for you to come here, and I wanted you to like the place. I figured the quieter the better.”
It was an incredibly sweet thing to do, but what else did he expect. Since the first time he’d met Deacon, the man had been nothing but kind. Aaron wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve a man as nice as Deacon, but he wasn’t about to turn him down. The fact that Deacon was one of the sexiest men Aaron had ever known didn’t hurt.
So what does he see in me?
He quickly ran through his assets and compared them to everything that was fucked up about him. It didn’t make sense, any of it.
“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” Deacon asked, setting his fork down.
Aaron shook his head. “The opposite.” His thoughts were suddenly a jumble of scenarios. “Are you doing all this because you feel sorry for me?”
“What? Where’s this coming from?”
Aaron noticed Deacon didn’t deny the accusation. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re one of those guys who thinks he can heal me with a few nice words and a big fat dick.”
“Stop it,” Deacon growled.
“There’s no other explanation. My looks are attractive, at best, and as we both know I’m not quite right in the head.” Aaron reached into his back pocket for his wallet. “Maybe you should rethink resigning your job because of me.” He slapped a twenty on the table before standing. “Sorry, but this isn’t going to work.”
“Don’t you dare walk out of here,” Deacon warned.
“You know what? I stopped taking orders the day I was discharged from the Army.” Aaron stormed off. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge the friendly wave Sean threw him on his way out the door.
Aaron was almost to his car when he heard Deacon call his name.
“Aaron!”
Aaron dug into his pocket for his keys. Why was it whenever you tried to do something quickly it always turned to shit? He fumbled the keys and they fell to the ground. By the time he retrieved them, Deacon was on him.
“Goddamit, don’t you dare walk away from me after saying something like that.” Deacon grabbed Aaron’s keys out of his hand and put them in his pocket. He used his superior size to press Aaron against the car. “You’ve got a lot to learn if you think I’m just going to sit by and let you hurl accusations at me without setting the record straight. You want to do this here in the street or do you wanna come inside where we won’t draw a crowd?”
Aaron crossed his arms, pushing Deacon back as much as he could. “Are you saying I’m wrong?”
Deacon stepped back and walked to the front of the store. He unlocked the door and took a step inside. “You coming?”
At war with himself, Aaron kicked the tire of his car, hoping it would release some of the frustration he felt. All he got in return was a fucking sore foot. He tried not to limp as he headed for the shop. Once inside, he shut the door. “Talk.”
Deacon moved a bowl full of painted wooden balls to the side as he took a seat on a coffee table. “Since you seem to have me all figured out, I think it’s time I enlighten you. The first man I ever truly loved was killed because of me. I know what it feels like to carry guilt so heavy it threatens to drown you. Why do you think I’ve stuck to myself all these years? Do you honestly think I like being alone?”
Aaron shrugged, unsure of what to say.
“There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t either feel sorry for myself or hatred for the man who stared back at me every time I looked in a mirror. When Luke asked me to help you, I couldn’t say no, not necessarily because of you, hell, I didn’t know the first thing about you, but Luke’s the only real friend I’ve made since Bobby died. So, yeah, I agreed to help you. Once I started digging, I saw the similarities in the two of us. I may not’ve lost Bobby in the same way you lost your friends, but I knew we both carried the same survivor’s guilt. I guess I thought I could heal myself by helping you through it.”
Aaron uncrossed his arms and shoved his shaking hands into his pockets as Deacon continued.
“The more I learned about you, the more I wanted to know. That’s why I dug into your childhood. Then when you walked in here that day after staring at that damn bed through the window for weeks, I finally was able to stand face to face with a man I felt I knew inside and out. But, I didn’t, did I? And that’s when my feelings towards you began to change. After that first night of greasy tacos with you, I knew I wanted more than just to help you. You made me laugh, something I hadn’t done in years. It might sound like a little thing but to me it was everything.”
“I know the feeling,” Aaron mumbled, interrupting Deacon.
“You make me feel alive again. That’s why I want to be with you, not because I feel sorry for you. Do I sympathise with you? Of course I do. Because I know what it feels like to be buried in guilt, but that’s not the reason I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Aaron took a deep breath at the declaration. “I love you, too, but how can two fucked up people begin to build a future together?”
“One day at a time,” Deacon whispered. He stood and eased his way over to Aaron. “Before you walked out of O’Brien’s I thought we’d been doing a pretty damn good job of it. Was I wrong?”
Aaron took a step towards Deacon and shook his head. “I don’t know why I reacted the way I did. I was sitting there thinking about all the nice things you do for me and how hot you are, then I looked at myself and saw…nothing.”
Deacon dropped his cane and pulled Aaron into his arms. “We’re quite a pair because I see just the opposite. I’ve been wondering why a young handsome man would want anything to do with a crippled middle-aged man who has a tendency to be grouchy on days that end with a y.”
Aaron couldn’t help but smile. “I think you’re pretty cute when you’re grouchy. Besides, I figured you liked that about yourself which is why you named the kitten Groucho.”
“Huh? I named the cat Groucho because of his thick black moustache. He reminded me of Groucho Marx.”
“Who?” Aaron wondered if he was some Soviet politician or something.
“Groucho Marx? One of the Marx brothers?”
Aaron shook his head.
“He had a whole comedy thing he did with his brothers in movies and stuff in the thirties and forties?” Deacon tried again.
“Sorry.”
Deacon sighed dramatically. “What am I gonna do with you?”
“Kiss me?”

It was after ten, two nights later, when Aaron finally made it to Deacon’s apartment. With half the department down with the flu, he’d pulled an extra half-shift. Luckily, Assistant Chief Leo Burkowski understood what it meant to have a pet and had given Aaron permission to return home to check on Groucho several times.

The moment he opened the apartment door, Groucho came running. “Have you been waiting for me?”
Aaron dropped his overnight bag and sat on the sofa. “Well, come on.” He patted his lap and waited for the kitten to join him. As happy as Groucho seemed to be to have him home, the kitten was definitely miffed that he’d been left alone for so long. He stared at Aaron for several moments before turning and walking from the room. “Damn, I didn’t know you were gonna hold a grudge.”
He looked around the empty apartment for something to do. Despite being tired, he was still riding an adrenaline rush from an earlier call. Aaron picked up the television remote and started surfing. After about twenty minutes, he turned off the TV and stood. He spotted Groucho staring at him from the kitchen. “Are you really going to stay mad at me?”
Aaron entered the kitchen and checked the food and water bowls. Satisfied Groucho wasn’t going to starve anytime soon, he sneaked out of the apartment and down the steps, figuring he might as well finish the cat tower. Who knew, maybe Groucho would be so impressed by the fine workmanship he’d forgive him.
With a flip of the switch, the shop came alive. Aaron grabbed the woodworking apron Deacon had given him on his way to his project. The first thing he noticed was the sturdy dowels holding up the large platform of the cat bed.
Damn.
An attached note no doubt explained why Deacon had finished the construction.

Please don’t get angry. I knew you’d want to work on this while I was gone, but I don’t feel right about you running the saw while I’m not there. I should have everything else you’ll need to finish there in the shop. Good luck and I love you, Deacon.

Aaron tapped the note against his lip as he studied the structure. With four different levels, the kitty condo was a lot bigger than he’d originally planned. Still, it looked fucking fantastic. Aaron reached over his shoulder and literally patted himself on the back. “Good job.” He refused to give Deacon any of the credit for installing the dowels because he knew he could’ve easily done it himself. Sure, he understood Deacon’s fear of him using the chop saw without supervision, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have done it.

Aaron ran his hand over the dowels to see if Deacon had sanded them before fitting them in place.
Smooth as a baby’s ass
. He silently cursed Deacon. Unbelievably, he actually enjoyed sanding. Hell, he’d enjoyed the entire process so far. Aaron went to the supply cabinet and pulled out a clean rag and the huge container of tung oil Deacon had suggested he use.

Silly or not, Aaron was proud that he’d used scraps from the mahogany bin to design and build the tower. He found a pair of thin latex gloves and put them on, wrinkling his nose at the fit.

Aaron stopped for a moment and considered going up to check on Groucho, but decided to get the first coat of oil on first. According to Deacon, the tung oil would need to dry between coats anyway. He could check on the pissed off kitten then.