Outlast the Night (9 page)

Sam didn’t think Jeremy could ever be “just” anything, but he kept that observation to himself. He genuinely liked Jeremy, and he didn’t want to lose his friendship by coming onto him until he was sure Jeremy was interested. Sure, he’d gotten a few signals suggesting he might be, but Sam wasn’t ready to take that risk just yet. Besides, starting a new relationship before his divorce was final would be asking for trouble when the time came. Not that he could give Alison any more than he’d already agreed to give her, but he could do without the drama.

“So what kind of gloves should I get?” Sam asked. He doubted he’d ever be as comfortable or confident on the station as Jeremy, but he could at least learn enough to take part in the discussions over dinner.

Chapter 7

B
Y
THE
time they’d finished lunch, Jeremy was glad they’d decided not to stay in town overnight. If he had to answer one more question about what had happened with Devlin and why he was living at Lang Downs now, he thought he might hit someone.

“The curse of small towns,” he muttered as they paid for their meal.

“I don’t know,” Sam said, following Jeremy out of the restaurant. “People know you here. If you were in trouble, you’d have help.”

“That’s probably true,” Jeremy agreed, although he suspected a revelation of his sexuality would impact who and how many would help. Macklin hadn’t been completely ostracized, but Jeremy had heard enough disapproving whispers to know some people would turn him away. “But it also means no privacy and no personal boundaries a lot of the time.”

They reached the ute and started loading the supplies Paul had gathered for them on the loading dock of the store. By the time they were done, Jeremy had worked up enough of a sweat to roll up his sleeves. He considered taking off his work shirt and driving home in just his T-shirt, but he’d cool off soon enough and wish he’d left it on. “You ready to go?”

Sam nodded mutely, the first time all day he hadn’t had a ready answer when Jeremy spoke to him, but Jeremy didn’t push. They’d gotten up early and had a busy day, and it was only midafternoon. They had a four-hour drive ahead of them still, possibly more if the clouds that had gathered let loose the threatened storm. Jeremy might cut directly across the paddocks rather than sticking to the roads if the weather was clear, but he wasn’t going to risk getting mired on Taylor Peak. He didn’t want to have another run-in with Devlin, especially with Sam in tow. Sam didn’t deserve to get caught up in the middle of their family dispute.

They headed west out of town back toward the tablelands and the station. A couple of times, Jeremy thought he caught Sam staring at his forearms where the sleeves were still rolled up, but he couldn’t be sure, and he didn’t want to disturb the easy camaraderie between them by asking. He’d had guys in Sydney or Melbourne fawn over his arms before, but he’d never thought they were anything special, just the product of a lifetime of work on a sheep station, no different than any of the other stockmen around him. Sam wasn’t a stockman, though. Of course he also shouldn’t have been interested in Jeremy’s arms, not unless there was more to the business with the ex-wife than Sam had said.

Jeremy wouldn’t blame him for not mentioning it if there was. He hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about his own secrets, so he couldn’t expect Sam to be any different, if in fact that was what was going on. Or maybe Sam was just staring blindly into space and the most comfortable position for his head happened to be with his eyes in the direction of Jeremy’s arms. Jeremy figured that was about as likely as someone like Sam being interested in a stockman from the tablelands.

“It looks like we’re in for a storm,” Sam said about the time they reached the turn-off for Taylor Peak and Lang Downs.

“Yeah. Let’s get through the gate, and then we’d better lash down the tarp over the supplies. If Caine’s order is anything like Devlin’s, none of it needs to get wet,” Jeremy said.

Sam nodded and hopped out to open the gate. Jeremy drove through and parked. He met Sam at the back of the ute and wrestled with the huge tarp. “Before we put this on, you might want to get your Driza-Bone,” Jeremy said. “If it starts raining, you’ll be glad for it when we get to the gates.”

Sam grabbed his coat from the package of his supplies, and then together they got the flatbed of the ute covered and the tarp lashed into place. The wind picked up while they worked, enough to make Jeremy glad of the extra pair of hands. He could have managed on his own, but having Sam’s help made it faster and easier.

“Thanks for the help,” he said as they climbed back into the ute.

“You’re welcome,” Sam replied, “not that I really did anything.”

Jeremy had noticed Sam’s penchant for self-effacement earlier in the day, and there it was again, the assumption that somehow his contributions were less important or less significant than anyone else’s. “You held the tarp down against the wind while I tied it in place,” Jeremy said. “If you hadn’t, I’d have been fighting the wind and the rope instead of just the rope.”

“You would have managed.”

“Yes,” Jeremy said, because he could hardly deny it, “but having your help made it easier.”

Sam retreated back into abashed silence, and Jeremy bit back the urge to shout at him. It made him wonder if there wasn’t more to Sam’s divorce than he’d admitted to. Modesty was one thing; Sam’s lack of confidence smacked of emotional abuse.

They were nearing the second gate, the one that would take them to the main house at Taylor Peak or let them bypass it for the road to Lang Downs, when another set of headlights caught Jeremy’s eye. “Looks like we have company,” he said to Sam.

Next to him, Sam tensed, almost as if he was expecting a blow. “Is there a problem?”

“There shouldn’t be,” Jeremy said, resisting the urge to pat Sam’s knee comfortingly. He didn’t know if the gesture would be appreciated, so he kept his hands on the steering wheel and waited for the other vehicle to approach. “The only way to Boorowa from Lang Downs is through Taylor Peak. As long as the jackaroos don’t cause problems, we’ve never had an issue with them crossing our land, and Mr. Lang was always very clear with his men. If you cause problems on Taylor Peak, don’t bother coming back. I haven’t heard Macklin say anything like that, but I can’t imagine he’d be any more tolerant of it.”

“He doesn’t seem one to bear fools lightly,” Sam agreed. “I guess we just wait and see what they want?”

“Yes,” Jeremy replied. “It could be nothing at all, but since we’ve seen them, it’s polite to wait and acknowledge them. They’ll be here in a minute, and then we can head on home.”

A few moments later, the other vehicle came into sight, and Jeremy’s stomach fell when he recognized Devlin’s car. He rolled down the window on the ute, the cold breeze eddying through the warmth of the cab. He could get out and preserve the warmth, but he really wanted the door between him and his brother. He didn’t think they would come to blows again, but he could do without another shiner.

“Jeremy,” Devlin said as he approached the ute. “I heard you were in town today.”

“I made the supply run for Lang Downs,” Jeremy replied, “not that it’s any of your business.”

“I heard that too,” Devlin said. “You’re really going to choose those two no-good pillow biters over your own family?”

“If the choice is living with your bigotry or living with Caine and Macklin, I’ll be far happier on Lang Downs,” Jeremy replied evenly. “I told you that the day I left. I’m done playing by your rules.”

“You’re no better than they are,” Devlin spat. He peered deeper into the ute at Sam. “Bloody hell, if that’s the best they can do for jackaroos these days, you’ve jumped onto a sinking ship.”

Jeremy grabbed Devlin’s collar in his fist and dragged him close. “Listen, you stupid fucker, you can insult me all day long, but you leave Sam out of it. He’s the accountant Caine and Macklin hired to take care of the books because Lang Downs is doing so well they need someone full time, so get it through your bloody thick skull that Lang Downs isn’t going under, you’re not going to be able to buy it cheap, and you’re not going to be able to run Caine off. They’re worth ten of you.”

“Bloody poofters, the whole lot,” Devlin said. “Next thing you know, you’ll be joining them too. Don’t come running to me when it goes south on you.”

“I haven’t come running to you for anything since I was five and you laughed at me for falling off my first pony,” Jeremy said.

“I should have known there was something wrong with you then,” Devlin sneered.

“There’s not a thing wrong with me,” Jeremy replied, “except how long it took me to tell you to go to hell.”

Not waiting for an answer, he rolled up the window and let up on the brake. He didn’t gun the engine. He didn’t want to hurt Devlin, after all, just get the hell away from him.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Jeremy said to Sam after Devlin had stepped back and was nothing more than a shadow in his rearview mirror. “Devlin has a blind spot so wide you could drive a truck through it where Caine and Macklin are concerned. It was bad enough when he thought I agreed with him. Now that he realizes I don’t, he’s added me to his blacklist.”

“It’s fine,” Sam said in a meek voice. “It’s not your fault.”

They reached the gate, and Sam jumped out to open it before Jeremy could say anything else. He drove through and waited for Sam to join him again.

“You’re not freaking out because you found out I’m gay, are you?” Jeremy asked. “You didn’t seem bothered by Caine and Macklin, so I thought—”

“What? No, of course not,” Sam said. “That would be really stupid, not to mention hypocritical. I mean, I didn’t know until your brother said something, but it’s none of my business, and you had no reason to tell me—”

“Sam, breathe,” Jeremy interrupted. “You’re going to hyperventilate if you keep going like that.”

Obediently Sam leaned forward and put his head between his knees, breathing in slow, measured cadence. Jeremy might have chuckled at the sight if he hadn’t been so busy resisting the urge to plant a fist in the face of whoever had done such a number on Sam. Then he realized what Sam had said: hypocritical.

Wasn’t that interesting? Had his ex-wife found out and used it against him? Had he known when he married her or was this a recent realization? Did anyone else know?

Sam’s breathing steadied after a moment, and he sat back up.

“Feel better?” Jeremy asked.

Sam nodded, although in the fading light of night and the impending storm, Jeremy thought he still looked a bit like a fish out of water.

“Your ex did a number on you, didn’t she?”

“What?” Sam said.

“Your ex,” Jeremy repeated. “What did she say to you to make you so tentative about everything?”

“Nothing,” Sam said immediately. “She just wanted out. She deserves someone who really loves her.”

“What about someone who really loves you?” Jeremy asked. “Don’t you deserve that too?”

“An out-of-work office manager with no social skills, a thickening waistline, and receding hair?” Sam countered. “Sure. They’re lining up at the door.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Jeremy said. “That kind of statement right there. Who made you believe that?”

“The mirror,” Sam replied.

Jeremy let that part go. If Sam wasn’t ready to talk to him, Jeremy couldn’t force his confidence. He could, however, address the content of what Sam said. “Then you need a new mirror. Because, first of all, last time I checked, you weren’t out of work anymore. Unless you think Caine hired you out of pity?”

Sam took just long enough to answer that Jeremy knew he really did believe that, even if he shook his head.

Jeremy nearly snorted in disbelief. “Let me tell you something about sheep stations, at least ones the size of Taylor Peak and Lang Downs. Most years, the difference between running in the black and in the red is one or two lambs. All the worth of the station is on paper, tied up in the land and the buildings and the equipment and the livestock. Money comes in twice a year, when the lambs are sold in autumn and after the shearing in the spring, when we sell the wool. The rest of the year, it’s a question of pinching pennies and hoping nothing breaks or needs to be replaced because until the next season, there’s no guarantee of how much money will come in to keep things running. Pity doesn’t have any place in running a station. If Caine hired you, it’s because he believes doing so is in the best interest of the station. I don’t know a lot about his background, but I know he got a business degree in the US. A Yank degree might not be worth a lot here, but it proves he knows his way around money, which tells me you impressed him, and that, in turn, impresses me.”

“That doesn’t change the rest of it,” Sam said. “You can hardly argue about my hairline.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “There’s a lot more to loving someone than how thick their hair is, you know. By the time my mother died, my father had a beer belly big enough to merit its own time zone and no hair whatsoever, but she still loved him as much as the day they met. And your hairline is fine. I just thought you had a high forehead, not that you were losing your hair.”