Cherish the Land (23 page)

“He doesn’t think it’s anything serious. Their temperature was normal, but we brought them back into the valley for observation, just in case.”

“Makes sense,” Caine said. “If he’s right, it doesn’t hurt to have them down here for a few days, and if he’s wrong, it’ll keep anything from spreading. It’ll cost a lot less to treat or butcher two sheep than it would an entire portion of the mob.”

“Exactly.” He came around to stand beside Caine’s chair and wrapped his arms around Caine’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” Caine asked.

“Does something have to be wrong for me to hug you?” Macklin asked. He rested his cheek against Caine’s dark head and just breathed him in.

“No, but you don’t usually do it during work hours,” Caine said. He turned his chair so he could stand into Macklin’s arms. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“It hasn’t been the easiest month,” Macklin replied. “With Taylor dying and Sam and Jeremy leaving. And now with Seth and Jason. It feels like there’s a hole. Sam’s supposed to be here in the office so you can be out in the paddocks with me. Jeremy’s supposed to be leading a crew and winding Neil up at dinner. Seth’s supposed to be in the tractor shed so Patrick doesn’t have to be.”

“And you don’t like it when all your chicks aren’t right where you can watch them,” Caine said. “I’m supposed to be the mother hen, not you.”

“Do you blame me?” Macklin asked.

“Of course not.” Caine kissed Macklin tenderly. “Your soft heart is one of the things I love about you.”

“I don’t have a soft heart,” Macklin grumbled.

“Of course you don’t,” Caine said. “You just took Jason out to look at the sheep instead of bringing them back to the valley yourself because you’ve forgotten how to cut two sheep out of the mob by yourself. You didn’t want to talk to him about Seth where no one else could hear you.”

Macklin didn’t sigh. There were downsides to having a lover who knew him so well.

“He doesn’t know how lucky he is,” Macklin said. “He grew up here with first Michael and then you making sure Lang Downs was a safe, stable place for a child to run wild and find his place in the world. He’s the ultimate proof we’ve done something good because he knows without any doubt who he is and where he belongs. Unfortunately Seth doesn’t, and Jason has no frame of reference for that. I tried to give him one.”

“I love you,” Caine said. “You know that, right?”

Macklin nodded. “It took me long enough, but yes, I know it. That’s the part Jason doesn’t understand. Seth doesn’t know how to believe it. By the time I met you, I’d learnt to trust permanence.”

Caine snorted.

“Okay, I didn’t trust you would stay, but I trusted that I could have a job and a life and not have it taken away from me on someone else’s whim,” Macklin said. “Or that if it was, I could find a new job and move on. Seth has to learn that still.”

“Do you think Jason can teach him?” Caine asked.

“If he can’t, I don’t know that anyone can,” Macklin replied. “Other than Chris, Jason is the only fixture in Seth’s life. Before you say it, we don’t count. We’re part of the station to him.”

“Would it help him to hear that he’ll always have a home and a job here if he wants it, regardless of whether he leaves again or how long he’s gone?” Caine asked. “I’m trying not to interfere, but I want to help if we can.”

“You, not interfere?” Macklin put his hand on Caine’s forehead. “Call the doctor, I’m sure you’re sick.”

Caine retaliated by digging his fingers into Macklin’s ribs. Macklin jumped back with a huff of laughter. “I’m so very lucky to have you,” Macklin said.

Caine smiled that sweet, gorgeous smile Macklin had fallen in love with the first time he saw it, even if it had taken him almost too long to admit it. “We’re lucky to have each other.” Caine moved back into Macklin’s arms and leaned against him. “Seth and Jason will find their way, and we’ll help them when we can. We have to keep believing that.”

“And if they don’t, we’ll help them pick up the pieces.”

S
ETH
SAT
in the corner of the canteen alone. He could have gone to sit with Sam, Jeremy, and Walker. They would have made room for him, but they would have talked to him, and Seth wasn’t interested in anything that required him to interact with anyone else. His brain was a field of broken glass, just waiting to shred him if he let his thoughts wander.

Sitting where he was, he could hear snatches of conversation from the other jackaroos, but none of them knew him well enough to draw him in, and Seth didn’t make an effort to insert himself. He’d only counted a handful he’d want to know on a good day. Today didn’t qualify.

“Did you hear what Taylor ordered today?” one of the jackaroos asked.

“No, but I’m sure I won’t like it,” another replied. “I swear, we work twice as hard now as we did when his brother was in charge, and we aren’t getting paid more. It’s bloody unfair.”

If they’d worked a little harder, maybe the station wouldn’t be in the shape it was in, Seth thought, but he didn’t share his opinion. They wouldn’t have any interest in hearing it, and Jeremy wouldn’t thank him for provoking an argument.

“He had our crew replacing old boards on the shearing shed. Like the way the shed looks matters as long as the sheep can’t get out when we’re working on them.”

“We spent the day moving the mob out of a perfectly good paddock because they’d been there for a week already. When Devlin was in charge, we only moved once a month.”

Which explained why some of the paddocks were so overgrazed, Seth realized. Caine and Macklin rotated the mob regularly so they wouldn’t denude the fields and let potentially dangerous weeds grow instead. Of course given the chemicals Seth had found in the tractor shed, Devlin had dealt with that problem differently. That would have to change so Jeremy could move toward the organic certification, but the average jackaroo wouldn’t know much about that. Caine had to teach everyone at Lang Downs about it, even as invested as they all were in the overall running of the station. These blokes had no thought for anything other than how to do as little work as possible.

The comments continued, scraping along the edges of Seth’s hearing and making him want to kick some sense into the drongos, but it was just grumbling. He’d heard plenty of it at the various auto shops he’d worked at, and even occasionally on Lang Downs, enough to know that people would find a reason to complain. As long as they weren’t downright insulting to Seth’s friends, he’d let it pass.

S
ETH
’
S
RESOLVE
lasted two days. Two days of tossing sleeplessly at night, of working himself as hard as he could during the day and of carefully not thinking about the razor he had left at Lang Downs. He didn’t know if Jason had told anyone what he’d seen or if word had made it to Taylor Peak yet, but his reprehensible habit had cost him the only good thing in his life. He wouldn’t let it follow him here. If he didn’t have his razor, he couldn’t cut himself, and if he couldn’t cut himself, maybe someday Jason would forgive him and—

That train of thought would get him exactly nowhere. He’d burned his bridges and no amount of changing his ways would unburn them. He would stay on Taylor Peak because Sam and Jeremy obviously needed the help. Walker made sure things got done, but they were shorthanded, and Seth could help fill that need for the summer. When the season was over, he’d see how he felt. He’d never really fit in the city, but that was as much because he still dreamed of Lang Downs and Jason as it was because he didn’t like the city. Now that he’d lost all hope of that dream, maybe the city wouldn’t be so bad.

Walker had said something last night about one of the utes not sounding right when he was driving it yesterday, so Seth would have to spend the morning under the hood, trying to figure out what was making it act up. He’d hoped to ride out with a crew today because Jason was coming to take out Misfit’s stitches, but luck was against him as always.

He’d made it almost to the tractor shed where he’d left his tool belt when he heard a couple of the jackaroos talking.

“… one of those shirt-lifters from Lang Downs. He says he’s a vet, but he’s just some kid. He probably sucked the boss’s dick to get the job.”

Seth saw red. He spun on his heel and marched toward the group of jackaroos, fists clenched so tightly his fingernails cut into his palms. “Shut up, you stupid fucker,” he said as he plowed into the group. “You all talk shit like it doesn’t mean anything and nobody’s listening. Well, think again, because I’m listening.”

“Yeah, and?” the jackaroo goaded. “What are you going to do about it?”

Seth drew his arm back and slammed his fist into the bastard’s gut. Pain radiated up his arm from the impact and the still-healing cut on his hand, but that only drove him on. He didn’t have his razor anymore. He couldn’t get what he needed that way, but this son of a bitch had given him an excuse even Sam and Jeremy couldn’t argue against. He reared back and struck again.

The jackaroo went down hard. “Get up,” Seth shouted. “You talk shit like you’re a big man. Prove it.”

The jackaroo climbed slowly back to his feet, his eyes glittering with anger now.
Bring it on
, Seth thought wildly. He dodged the first punch the other jackaroo threw, but the second landed on his jaw, sending him reeling back. The crowd jeered as he dove back in, fists flying now. Some of his blows landed, some of them missed. He blocked some of the ones aimed at him and bore the ones he couldn’t stop. He would take this fucker down because no one talked like that about Jason.

When the jackaroo went down a second time, Seth didn’t give him the chance to get back up. He followed him down, pummeling his face as hard as he could.

He heard shouts but ignored them. He wasn’t done yet. Not until he made sure the bastard wouldn’t say anything like that about Jason ever again.

“Simms!”

The sound of his name drew his attention but did nothing to cool his ire. He’d raised his hand to punch the jackaroo again when someone grabbed his arm. He jumped to his feet, more than ready to have a new target for his emotions. He vaguely registered that Walker had him in his grip, but the recognition didn’t slow him down. He’d never beat Walker, but it didn’t matter. He never started a fight expecting to win, just to walk away. Walker wouldn’t kill him, just pound his arse into the dirt, and maybe that would finally be enough to shut up the voices in his head. He took a deep breath and swung at Walker.

“Dammit, Simms,” Walker growled as he dodged the punch. His grip on Seth’s wrist tightened, but Seth kept fighting. He didn’t know how to stop. Not now. He never saw the blow to his jaw coming.

S
ETH
BLINKED
a couple of times as consciousness returned. He turned his head, trying to figure out where he was, but that hurt like a bitch.

He must have groaned because someone pressed an ice pack to his jaw and another to his eye. “Don’t move. Nothing’s broken, but you’re damn lucky.”

Phil. That was Phil’s voice. He must be in the canteen.

“What happened?” he croaked. It hurt to talk. She’d said his jaw wasn’t broken, but it sure felt like it.

“You attacked another jackaroo, and when Walker tried to break it up, you turned on him,” Phil said. “If you weren’t already a mess of bruises, I’d smack you myself. Do you know how many ways that man could kill you with his bare hands?”

“Forty-five?” Seth said.

“More than that,” Walker replied, startling Seth. He jerked his head in the direction of Walker’s voice and then gasped when pain lanced through his head.

“Don’t move,” Phil scolded. “Nick, don’t bait him. He isn’t in any shape for it.”

“He swung first,” Walker said defensively. Seth kept his mouth shut. This was far more entertaining than swapping barbs with Walker himself. Maybe he’d stay on Taylor Peak after all, just to see if Phil could henpeck Walker into submission as fully as Molly had cowed Neil. Even Thorne didn’t call Walker by his first name. Seth wouldn’t have known who Phil was talking about if anyone else had been in the room.

“I’m sure he did. I’m also sure you could have overpowered him without knocking him out.”

“Neutralize the threat—that’s the first lesson we learnt in the Commandos,” Walker replied. “That’s not training that goes away. I didn’t kill him. That’s as good as I can get.”

Phil gave him the kind of look that always sent Neil running when Molly directed it at him. Walker didn’t flee, but Seth could tell he was squirming. “’S my fault,” he slurred. “I wouldn’t have stopped otherwise.”

“And why is that?” Phil demanded, turning the glare on him. Shit, why had he opened his mouth again? Oh yeah, so he could save Walker’s chance of being happy since he couldn’t do anything about his own love life.

“Because I’m a stupid, stubborn shit who doesn’t know how to back down,” Seth said. “That’s not Walker’s fault.”

“That may be true,” Walker said, “but you don’t strike me as the kind who goes around picking fights. What started it?”