Outlast the Night (10 page)

“I appreciate what you’re doing,” Sam said. “Really. But you don’t need to. I know what I am and what I’m not. I’ve come to terms with it. I don’t need anyone’s pity.”

“If that’s what this was, that might sway me,” Jeremy said, “but I didn’t spend the day talking to you out of pity. I didn’t offer to teach you about the station out of pity. I enjoyed your company today, and that’s far more important than how cut you are or whether you’re losing a little hair. You don’t have to believe me, but I need to say it at least this once: I think you’re an interesting, attractive man, and I’d like to get to know you better, but I realize you’re in the middle of a divorce and that you have issues to work out around that, so I’m not going to push. I am, however, going to be your friend.”

Chapter 8

S
AM
walked into the station office the next morning, booted up the computer, and did his best to pretend he’d gotten a good night’s sleep and that everything was normal. Nobody else had to know his conversation with Jeremy on the way back from Boorowa the day before had sent him into a complete tailspin.

Caine walked in a few minutes later. “You’re in here early today,” he said with a smile. “Things are more laid-back in the winter. Less to do in the paddocks, and all.”

Sam summoned a smile, refusing to acknowledge how fake it felt. “Jeremy said something to that effect yesterday, but we hadn’t talked about it, and I didn’t want to presume.”

“Now we’ve talked about it,” Caine said. “Macklin was talking about riding out to check on some of the drover’s huts in a little bit, to make sure they weathered last night’s storm and that they’re sound when the next one comes.”

“Is storm damage a problem?” Sam asked.

“It can be,” Caine replied. “We usually get one or two bad storms a winter, but Macklin assures me that’s completely unpredictable.”

“Your insurance should cover those repairs,” Sam said.

“It might,” Caine agreed, “but the cost of replacing a few shingles isn’t worth the hassle of having the insurance inspector come out.”

“You should look into it, though,” Sam said. “If you use a digital camera with a timestamp, you have proof of when the picture was taken. There’s no reason to pay for repairs that should be covered. You spend enough in maintenance without adding to it. Even if you do the repairs yourself, you could submit a claim for reimbursement.”

“Won’t submitting too many claims drive up our premiums?” Caine asked. “I’d rather keep the premiums relatively low and absorb small costs here and there than have them go up because we’re nickel-and-diming them to death.”

“I’d have to look at the details of your coverage and the company’s policy,” Sam replied, “but if that’s the case, I’d suggest looking for a different insurance company. What’s the point in having insurance if you’re afraid to submit a claim?”

“It’s the same policy Uncle Michael had,” Caine admitted. “There were so many other things to deal with after his death that reviewing the insurance policies wasn’t even on the priority list, much less near the top.”

“Do you have the policy?” Sam asked. “I took care of stuff like that at the hardware store. I’d be glad to read through it and let you know what I think.”

Caine chuckled. “I’m sure I have it somewhere.” He gestured to the file cabinets lining one wall of the office. “But you see what I inherited. I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface. I keep saying I’ll make time to go through it all, but not today.”

Sam nodded. “There’s no rush, I suppose. Just document any damage you find because we can deduct the cost of any repairs we don’t submit to our insurance company.”

“I’ll take my camera with me,” Caine said.

“Caine?”

“I’ll be right there,” Caine called back to Macklin. “Get the horses ready, and I’ll meet you outside.”

Macklin made a sound of acknowledgment before the sound of footsteps signaled his departure. “One other thing before I go,” Caine said. “If I wanted to go about finding someone in Tumut, or who used to live in Tumut, how would I go about it?”

“Do you have a name?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Caine said. “Sarah Armstrong.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “I take it this is a secret?”

“Yes,” Caine said. “If what I find is bad news, it’s better if Macklin doesn’t know.”

“He’s waiting for you,” Sam said. “I’ll think about what your options might be and let you know.”

“Thanks, Sam, and feel free to dig through those files if you’re so inclined. If not, we’ll go through them together another day.”

Sam waited until Caine left before eyeing the file cabinets suspiciously. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what he found when he opened them. Caine’s records from the past year and a half were meticulous, but there was a distinct lack of information for a lot of things from before that. From what everyone had said about Michael Lang since Sam’s arrival, Sam was sure the information was there, just not in the most accessible form. With a sigh, he pulled open the first drawer and went to work.

He’d sorted the contents of the first drawer into three piles (too old to bother with, relevant, and to deal with immediately) when the sound of someone clearing his throat drew Sam’s attention. He couldn’t stop the smile that crossed his face at the sight of Jeremy standing in the doorway, hat in hand and in sock feet, even with all the uncomfortable thoughts from the previous night. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Jeremy said. “You look busy.”

“Just sorting through stuff,” Sam said. “Mr. Lang might have been a good stockman, but his organizational skills left something to be desired.”

Jeremy laughed. “I told you we stockman preferred animals to numbers. I was coming to see if I could tempt you outside for your first riding lesson, but maybe I’ll just stand here and watch you instead.”

“I’m not doing anything interesting,” Sam said with a puzzled laugh. “Watching someone else sort papers is about as exciting as watching paint dry.”

“Maybe, but watching you make sense of all those papers has potential,” Jeremy said with an exaggerated leer. “I told you the thought of you being all competent got me hot and bothered.”

Sam flushed all the way to the roots of his hair. His receding hair. “You didn’t say anything of the sort yesterday. You said I was interesting.”

“Interesting
and
attractive,” Jeremy said. “And I also said the fact that you could make sense out of all the business stuff when I couldn’t was seriously impressive. When I said it, I didn’t realize you were gay, so I left off the turn-on part. I didn’t want to freak you out, but now that I know I have a chance, I’m going to mention it every time I can.”

“Please don’t make fun of me,” Sam said, unable to hold Jeremy’s gaze.

“I’m not making fun of you,” Jeremy said as he came into the room and sat down on the floor next to Sam. “I wouldn’t do that.”

No, Sam had to admit to himself, Jeremy was a lot of things, but the schoolyard bully was not one of them. He wouldn’t make fun of someone else for being smart instead of athletic. “Sorry, old habits.”

“We’re going to work on that,” Jeremy said. “So, explain to me what you’re doing and tell me how I can help.”

Sam considered the piles of paper he’d already sorted through. The classifications made sense to him, but they wouldn’t to Jeremy, not if he was really as clueless where business was concerned as he claimed to be. “Open the next drawer,” he said. “You can start sorting things by date. Anything over ten years old in one pile. Anything three to ten years old in another pile, and anything more recent than that in a third pile. The older stuff is, the less likely I am to need to look at it immediately. Unless it looks like an insurance policy. Then I need to see it no matter how old it is.”

“I can do that,” Jeremy said. He opened the next drawer and got to work.

Sam expected his presence to be a distraction, with all the talk of attraction and everything, but Jeremy settled in quietly, only occasionally interrupting Sam’s sorting to ask a question or make an observation. It turned out to be a far more peaceful morning than he could have anticipated.

The sound of his stomach growling drew both their attention to the clock.

“Look at that,” Jeremy said. “Lunchtime already. Can we take a break, boss, or are you going to make me work through lunch with nothing to fill my poor empty belly?”

Sam laughed at that, since it was his own empty belly making noise. “Let’s go. We’ve gotten more done than I could have by myself. We’ve earned a break.”

Jeremy bounced to his feet with the ease of a man in full control of his body. Sam envied the grace of his movements, but didn’t try to imitate them. He’d make a fool of himself if he did. He braced his arm on the nearby chair when Jeremy reached down and offered his hand. Sam took it and let Jeremy pull him to his feet, ignoring the shiver of desire at how big Jeremy’s hand felt in his and how easily Jeremy did it. He was wearing long sleeves again today, but Sam had gotten a glimpse of the arms underneath the shirt yesterday. He’d never known he had an arm fetish until now, but that glimpse of skin had done things to his insides.

The canteen was pretty much deserted when they walked in, not that Sam had expected otherwise. Even at the height of summer, most of the jackaroos took sandwiches with them for lunch rather than returning to the canteen. With all but the year-rounders gone now, that seemed to hold even more true. A plate of sandwiches sat on the counter under plastic wrap, so Sam and Jeremy grabbed plates and helped themselves. “So what’s on the agenda for this afternoon?”

“I’d planned on working in the office all day,” Sam said, “but if you have something else you need to do, I understand. I can work by myself. It’s not a problem.”

“That’s not what I said or what I meant,” Jeremy said. “You mentioned moving into the bunkhouse. I thought I’d give you a hand with your things if you wanted, and I promised to show you how a station runs.”

“I probably ought to check with Caine before I move into the bunkhouse,” Sam said. “I mean, I know the rooms are empty, but there’s a difference between staying in Neil’s spare room and living in the bunkhouse.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Sam said. “If I’m in Neil’s spare room, I’m dependent on his generosity. In the bunkhouse, I’m dependent on Caine’s generosity.”

“How do you figure that?” Jeremy asked. “Unless things are a whole lot different here, Caine owns Neil’s house too. Neil gets to use it as part of his employment package, but it’s still station property. If he decided to leave, he wouldn’t get any value from the house, just whatever belongings of his he’d moved into it.”

“Oh,” Sam said. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

“That’s what you get for taking up with the son of a grazier,” Jeremy said with a grin. “I might not have a head for business, but I picked up a few details here and there over the years.”

“So you’re saying I should stick with you?” Sam asked, feeling daring for flirting with Jeremy.

“Definitely,” Jeremy replied, his grin widening. “I won’t steer you wrong.”

“I’d still feel better if we asked Caine before I moved,” Sam said. “Even if it makes no functional difference, it feels different to me.”

“Did he say where he was going to be today?” Jeremy asked.

“He said something about checking the drover’s huts for storm damage,” Sam replied.

“Uh-huh,” Jeremy joked. “Let me guess. Macklin went with him.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Jeremy replied. “It’s a very responsible thing for them to do after a storm like the one last night. It speaks well of their concern for their property and their employees.”

“Then why are you snickering?”

“Because the drover’s huts are probably the only place on the station besides their bedroom where they’d have any privacy,” Jeremy said. “I’m sure it’s just coincidental that Macklin decided to go with Caine today.”

Sam felt himself flush again, something he seemed to do with alarming regularity around Jeremy. “You don’t really think they rode out today just for that, do you?”

“No,” Jeremy replied. “I’m sure they will come back with a complete list of repairs that need to be made after the storm last night. I’m just also willing to bet either one of them could do the same job faster alone than they’ll do together.”

“You’re terrible,” Sam said. “They’re our bosses. We shouldn’t gossip about them like that.”

“There’s nothing malicious in it,” Jeremy assured him. “I think it’s pretty awesome, actually. Two years ago, if you’d told me it could happen in my backyard, I would have laughed at the outlandishness of the thought, and now I’m talking about it like it’s the most normal thing in the world.”

“Lang Downs is a pretty special place.”

“Lang Downs is a miracle,” Jeremy amended. “A bloody miracle, and if you don’t believe that, ask Chris how he ended up here. Hell, ask Macklin how he ended up here. Or Kami. Or Patrick. I’d bet most of the year-rounders have a story to tell about how this place changed their lives. I never knew what drove Michael Lang, but even as a young child, I knew things were different here when I came to visit. That’s even more the case now.”