Ari McKay's Blog, page 15

Holiday Story sneak peek!

We have a new holiday story coming out next month from Torquere Press! “Knitting a Broken Heart Back Together” spans a year in the life of Tomy Peralta, a ballroom dance instructor who planned to propose to his boyfriend at Christmas. Instead, he finds himself dumped for the holidays. His healing process begins with knitting classes at a local yarn shop run by Jason Winters, a hunky former pro athlete who would love nothing more than to dance his way into Tomy’s heart.

Here’s a special sneak peek of “Knitting a Broken Heart Back Together” for our readers. We hope you enjoy it!

* * *

May brought in an early, sweltering preview of summer, and, as usual, business at Stitchin’ Time slumped accordingly. There were still the regulars, of course, the year-round knitters who kept up with their hobby no matter the weather, but the casual crafters and walk-in business definitely slacked off. Not that Jason minded, really; after owning his shop for nearly four years, he’d come to expect the cyclical nature of the business, and he enjoyed having a bit of peace during the day to work on his dye projects and his own knitting.

Class was more sparsely attended as well, though still better than the numbers would be in July and August. Most importantly, Tomy was there, and Jason was pleased to see he’d been knitting enough outside of class to have the scarf nearly finished. Tomy had done a good job of it, too, and so Jason brought out a book of dishtowel patterns and had Tomy select a skein or two of kitchen cotton that appealed to him for his next project.

A week after the knitting class came Jason’s lesson, and he was looking forward to it eagerly. Tomy was finally satisfied that Jason had mastered the Foxtrot well enough for the wedding, so now they would be moving on to the Tango. This lesson was something Jason had thought about a lot, and so he’d dressed with care in a silver silk shirt that clung to him like a second skin and that his sister said made his eyes look like a stormy sky. It wasn’t yet time to ask Tomy out, but it was now five months past his break up, and if Jason had been reading things correctly, Tomy was starting to look at him as more than a teacher of knitting and a student of dance. That was a very good thing, especially since Jason was dying to ask Tomy to come to Jennifer’s wedding as his date. As it was, he’d told his sister just to mark him as “plus one” because he wasn’t yet certain who he’d be bringing.

He waved to Luciana at the receptionist’s desk, not stopping to speak to her as he normally would because she was in the middle of a phone call. Making his way back to their regular practice room, he slipped inside and began to do some of the warm-up stretches Tomy had recommended. The Foxtrot had been a much more energetic dance than the Waltz, but the Tango was going to require more flexibility than anything he’d tried so far.

Tomy arrived a couple of minutes later, stopping to look at Jason uncertainly. “Are you going somewhere after this? You might want to change shirts if you don’t want to get that one sweaty.”

“Actually, this one dries quickly and is quite cool,” Jason replied easily. “I’m not going anywhere after this except home.” He smiled wryly. “God, I’m such a stick in the mud, aren’t I?”

“I really can’t say anything.” Tomy mirrored Jason’s wry look as he approached. “I’ve been getting out more in the last few weeks than I did for months after the break-up, but I’m still much more of a homebody than I used to be.”

“Well, it’s not really surprising. You were in a lot of pain.” Jason tilted his head to one side. “You seem to be doing much better these days, which I’m very glad to see.”

Tomy drew in a deep breath and released it in a short puff, looking as if he was debating how to answer that. “I’m a lot better than I was around January and February.” He shrugged slightly. “I’ll spare you any other gory details. I’m sure you aren’t interested in my relationship post mortem.”

“If you need to talk, I always have a listening ear.” Jason was wildly curious, but he kept any hint of it from showing on his face. “Isn’t that what friends are for?”

Tomy hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Well, if you’re sure you want to hear about all my wallowing….”

“Only if you want to talk about it,” Jason said quietly. “But if you do, of course I want to hear about how you’re dealing with things. I like you, Tomy. You’re a wonderful man who’s gone through a lot of crap you didn’t deserve.”

“Thanks.” Tomy gave him a grateful smile. “I guess the biggest improvement is that most of the anger is gone. I still get pissed off occasionally, but it’s not right there under the surface all the time like it used to be. I don’t need constant external distraction anymore, and I can be alone in my own head without hopping on a hamster wheel of ‘what did I do wrong?’.” He paused, then added softly, “I’m still second-guessing myself, though. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall in love with him.”

Jason shook his head. Tomy was definitely beating up on the wrong person. “No. You weren’t the stupid one — he was. He had the love of a gorgeous, talented, special man, and he threw it away. You have nothing to be ashamed of, Tomy.”

Tomy swallowed hard, and this time, his smile was a little watery. “Thanks. I guess I’m worried I’ll get fooled again. Mama and Lola said I just need to listen to them next time,” he said with a shaky laugh.

Considering that Ana Lucia and Lola seemed to like him, Jason didn’t find that to be a bad idea at all. “There may be something to it,” he said, then shrugged slightly. “Objective opinion, maybe? We love with our hearts, not our eyes, so I think sometimes we do get a bit blinded to flaws other people can see.”

“That’s what my family has been saying,” Tomy admitted wryly. “I guess I wanted to see the best in him so much that I missed all the signs that said I shouldn’t trust him.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and bowed his head. “It’s going to be hard trusting anyone else. I think I’ll be waiting for them to turn on me too or second-guessing myself constantly, reading things into every little action and wondering if it’s a sign I need to pay attention to.”

“That makes sense, unfortunately.” And it did, too, as much as Jason hated to admit it. “But I think if you find the right person, it won’t be as bad as you fear. If you decide to go out with someone who goes through lovers like popcorn, then yeah, I think there might be a good reason to pay close attention. But if you go for a man who’s the faithful sort, it might not be as hard to relax and trust your instincts.” He chuckled. “Not that I’ve ever been in love myself, unfortunately. But you’d be amazed at how much wisdom I’ve picked up from listening to women twice my age talk about men and relationships.”

“Well, they would know something about it.” Tomy looked up again and fixed Jason with a quizzical look. “Why haven’t you ever been in love? I mean, you’re hot, you’re smart, and you’re a nice guy. How has someone not grabbed you by now?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jason replied with a shrug. He could feel his cheeks growing warm, but he was pleased that Tomy thought of him that way. “I guess I just never met the right person.” Until now. “But I’m a hopeless romantic, according to my mother. I guess it’s from growing up in a very traditional family. When I do find the right person, I want it all — commitment, hearth and home and holidays by the fire. I’m even open to adopting kids and puppies and having a mad house where the relatives come over at all hours. Does that sound strange for someone my age?”

“No, but if you’ve said any of that to my mother, it’s no wonder she likes you. In fact, I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to adopt you yet,” Tomy said dryly. “She’s been after me to settle down and adopt some grandchildren for her since I turned thirty. Like she doesn’t have four already!”

“But you’re her baby and her favorite. She just wants you to be happy.” Jason felt a hint of worry. “Is it that you don’t want to settle down, or do you not like kids?”

There was a flicker of pain in Tomy’s eyes at that. “I thought I’d have both with Sean. I was looking at a future with him. Mama always thought I could do better, but I’d picked him.”

“He told you he wanted to settle down, but he really didn’t?” Jason ached for the hurt Tomy had suffered. “I’m so sorry.”

“He kept saying he’d be ready when he reached a stable point in his career, but that point kept changing,” Tomy replied with a trace of bitterness in his voice. “I guess I should have realized how ambitious he was, but I didn’t. I’m happy here, running the studio and teaching classes, and I was glad to get out from under the pressure of competition. I thought he would be ready one day too.”

Jason nodded. “It sounds like you grew up, and he didn’t. But not every man is like him. Someday you’ll find someone who will restore your faith in yourself and in love. It’s just going to have to be the right person.” Maybe, if Tomy would take a chance, Jason could be that person. He just had to convince Tomy to let him try.

“Maybe. We’ll see,” Tomy said, the dubiousness in his expression making it clear he wasn’t ready to think along those lines yet. “Anyway, you have a dance to learn, although I have to ask why you want to learn to Tango for a polite society wedding. Even if there’s someone else there who actually knows how to do it, it would probably make your sister freak out.”

“Well….” Jason could feel his face growing hot. “It’s not entirely for the wedding. I was thinking it’s something I’d love to know how to dance. You know… if I ever meet the right person to dance it with. Ever since I saw Moulin Rouge, I’ve wanted to learn how to dance it.”

“Ah, you like the sexy intensity of it.” Tomy nodded as if the explanation made perfect sense to him. “I won’t lie. The Tango has served as foreplay more than once for me.”

“Really?” Jason swallowed hard, finding it difficult to breathe. It was all too easy to imagine Tomy turning the dance into a seduction, and he felt a moment of intense longing that he knew he’d better clamp down on before he did something foolish. It wasn’t time yet; if he let himself get carried away, he might wreck things before they even got started.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s one of the more intense dances,” Tomy replied. “It’s all about total focus on your partner, and if you dance it with someone who knows what they’re doing and who you’re attracted to… it can get pretty spicy.”

“Oh.” Jason suddenly had the feeling he was going to be in big trouble if he wasn’t careful. “Well… why don’t you walk me through it? Who knows? Maybe this is the dance I’ll flub up.”

“Okay, let’s start with the hold.” Tomy moved closer, putting himself right in Jason’s personal space as he placed Jason’s hands. “Ain’t no room for Jesus in this one.”

They were standing far closer together than they had for the other two dances, and Jason could feel the warmth radiating from Tomy’s body. He suddenly felt like it was fourth down and long with only seconds left in the game, so he drew in a deep breath.

“Like this?” he asked, putting his body into the frame Tomy had taught him.

“Perfect.”

Was that a flush rising in Tomy’s cheeks? It looked like it to Jason.

“So we need a story for the dance. Sometimes you can just choreograph the steps, but with the Tango, it helps to have more,” Tomy explained. “Say you’re dancing this with your future guy. What do you want to say to him with it?”

“Oh.” Jason was caught off guard, but he gave the question serious thought. What did he want to say to Tomy? He’d just been given an open license to say whatever he wanted to his “hypothetical guy”, so he needed to make it something Tomy would remember.

“I know,” he said, suddenly sure of what it had to be. He looked into Tomy’s eyes, his voice becoming husky. “You’re the only one I want, and I will never, ever leave you.”

Tomy’s dark eyes widened as he gazed up at Jason, seeming transfixed. Finally, he blinked, seeming to snap himself out of his reverie, and cleared his throat. “So you want the emotional intensity to be more about love and commitment than seduction?”

“Yes.” Jason nodded firmly. “There will be plenty of passion, believe me. But I would never want to seduce someone I didn’t have an emotional connection to. Sex just for the sake of getting off has never appealed to me.” He smiled wryly. “And this is why my mother calls me a hopeless romantic.”

“Okay, then we’ll make your Tango a romantic one.” Tomy moved away just long enough to turn on some music, a slow and sensual piece with a strong Spanish influence. When he returned to Jason, he lifted his chin and met Jason’s gaze steadily, then he swapped their hold. “I’ll lead this time. You just try to keep up and see if you like what I do.”

“All right.” The problem wasn’t going to be liking what Tomy did. No, the problem would be liking it too much. “I’m ready.”

Jason had seen how well Tomy could lead when he’d watched the demonstrations of the Waltz and Foxtrot; he’d chalked up the fluid ease of what he’d seen to practice. No doubt Tomy had partnered most, if not all of the women who worked here plenty of times before, so they were all familiar with each other, and the women were skilled dancers in their own rights. But now he realized his assumption was only half right.

A subtle change came over Tomy as he pulled Jason close and began moving him through the opening steps of their dance, and for the first time, Jason felt the power Tomy could exert as a dancer. His lead was strong and his moves were bold as if he expected Jason to keep up — and Jason did. All the weeks of practice with other dances had given him the confidence to dance as an equal now.

Tomy guided him through a series of moves that took them all over the dance floor — slow but intricate footwork and turns, spinning Jason out and then drawing him back, never breaking eye contact no matter what their feet were doing.

Jason couldn’t have looked away even if he’d wanted to. He was caught like a fly in a web, drawn in by Tomy’s power and sensuality. The smoldering attraction he’d felt for Tomy since the moment they’d met suddenly burst into flame, and he hoped his feelings weren’t naked in his eyes for Tomy to see.

The mood between them shifted, becoming more intimate as if the rest of the world was fading away. That Jason was taller and broader than Tomy didn’t seem to matter; Tomy took control from the very first step and guided Jason through each move as if he was dancing with Lola or Luciana. He reached up and touched Jason’s face as he brought Jason in close, an intensity in his eyes that Jason had never seen before.

Now Jason understood exactly why Tomy said he’d used the dance as foreplay. If Tomy had wanted to push Jason up against a wall right then and there, Jason would have let him have anything he wanted. Hell, he was tempted to do the pushing and he wasn’t even the one leading. He let himself be swept up in the sensuality of it all, and he felt as though he could have kept dancing like this with Tomy forever.

But the music ended, and Tomy brought the dance to a close, his breathing labored. He kept his hand pressed against the small of Jason’s back, their bodies aligned as he gazed up at Jason.

“What do you think?”

“I….” Jason started to speak, then stopped himself. He could hardly say ‘I never want to dance that dance with anyone but you’ without freaking Tomy out. “Wow. Just… wow.”

Tomy chuckled as he released Jason at last and put a little distance between them. “You liked it? Not everyone does. It can be a little much for some people.”

“Liked it?” Jason was still having trouble focusing, because the blood wasn’t all getting to his brain. So he drew in a deep breath. “I loved it. Adored it. It was….” he searched for a superlative to sum up everything he’d thought, but they all seemed to fall short. “Perfect. It was perfect.”

Tomy smiled, looking quite pleased with Jason’s enthusiasm for the dance. “In that case, we’ll work out some choreography and practice until you feel like you can take the lead and dance with your man when he comes along.”

Jason nodded, and he lowered his gaze. “I’ll never dance that dance with anyone except the man I intend to be with for the rest of my life,” he said.

“Then I’ll make sure it’s special,” Tomy replied softly.

“You already have.” Jason looked up again, trying to get himself under control. He couldn’t believe how much the dance had affected him. Or maybe it was the combination of Tomy and the dance, but he felt lightheaded, his heart still pounding even though they were no longer moving. “Thank you. I hope I can carry off the intensity of the lead with a fraction of your skill.”

“Practice.” Tomy’s smile turned evil. “I’ll run your ass ragged until you get it right.”

“Well, at least I don’t have to have it perfected in time for the wedding,” Jason replied with a smile of his own. “So you’ll just have to keep working with me until I have it down to your satisfaction.”

“Believe me, I will.” Tomy shot him a challenging look. “You aren’t even sweating yet. That’s going to change.”

“Promises, promises,” Jason retorted playfully. “You forget I played football in Atlanta in August, wearing fifteen pounds of armor. Do you worst, teach. I can take it.”

“You say that now,” Tomy replied serenely as he returned to the stereo and cued up the music again.

Jason watched, thinking that dancing the Tango and trying to hide the fact that he was quickly falling head over heels in love with Tomy just might kill him. But at least he’d die a happy man.

New free read!

We’re pleased to announce that our short story, “A Hundred Lonely Halloweens”, is now available as a free read from Torquere Press!

“A Hundred Lonely Halloweens” was originally published in October, 2012, as a Halloween Sip. It’s been added to our Free Reads page on this site along with “Steam Heat”.

When Micah Harrison bought Delany House, he didn’t suspect that it was haunted – or that the lonely ghost of Richard Delany would be the most appealing man he’d met in a long time. As Micah learns more about Richard, he realizes he’s in danger of falling in love, but he gives in to temptation anyway when Richard offers him the gift of an erotic Halloween encounter. However, Richard’s real gift is not only a night of sensual pleasure, but also a chance for Micah to find the love he’d been looking for and never found. 

Our first audio book!

A while back, Dreamspinner Press asked if we’d be okay with them turning our holiday short story “On the Rocks” into an audiobook. Naturally, we said yes! Now we’re happy to announce that our first audiobook is available from Audible.com, from iTunes, and from Amazon!

“On the Rocks” was written for Dreamspinner’s 2012 Evergreen Advent Calendar, and we’re really pleased that it’s been given new life in this form. We hope our readers enjoy it as well!

For years, Mal has given Aidan a little piece of the world for special occasions in the form of unique rocks and fossils—until the year he gives Aidan a piece of the moon instead. Aidan has treasured every gift: in a world of impersonal relationships, they’re the one reminder he has that somebody out there cares about him for who he really is. Then through a twist of fate, their relationship goes beyond personal and into intimate, leaving Aidan shocked and set to run the other way. Despite his feelings for Mal, past experiences have convinced Aidan that he’s a failure at relationships, and he’s afraid to trust his heart. It just might take a Christmas miracle for Aidan to find the courage to love.

The Wendigo by Ogden Nash

In honor of tonight’s episode of Sleepy Hollow…

“The Wendigo”, by Ogden Nash

The Wendigo,

The Wendigo!

Its eyes are ice and indigo!

Its blood is rank and yellowish!

Its voice is hoarse and bellowish!

Its tentacles are slithery,

And scummy,

Slimy,

Leathery!

Its lips are hungry blubbery,

And smacky,

Sucky,

Rubbery!

The Wendigo,

The Wendigo!

I saw it just a friend ago!

Last night it lurked in Canada;

Tonight, on your veranada!

As you are lolling hammockwise

It contemplates you stomachwise.

You loll,

It contemplates,

It lollops.

The rest is merely gulps and gollops.

The Demon’s Door now available!

Our 2014 Halloween story, The Demon’s Door, is now available from Torquere Press! It’s 137 pages for $4.49.

When Thomas Carter discovers his grandfather’s hidden journals, detailing the old man’s fight against the supernatural, he knows he’s found his true calling at last. Yet when he sets out to stake a local vampire, he quickly learns that the difference between Good and Evil is very different than what he had believed.

Julian Schaden is at first amused when Thomas tries to destroy him, but he quickly recognizes Thomas for what he is: a Demon Hunter, a supernatural being who exists to hunt and destroy the soulless. The two are drawn together as Julian teaches Thomas the skills he will need to survive, and attraction intensifies to something deeper. But when a major demonic manifestation looms at Halloween, will they have the strength to face it, when failure might condemn them both to an eternity in Hell?

New Halloween story next week!

Our Halloween story for 2014 will be released next week! “The Demon’s Door” will be available on Oct. 22 from Torquere Press. It’s a little different from our Halloween stories from 2012 and 2013, which were ghost stories; this one has a wider range of supernatural beings and a more action-oriented plot.

But we’ve got several other spooky tales that are appropriate for Halloween for our readers to enjoy in the meantime!

A Hundred Lonely Halloweens

Call of the Night Singers

Ghost of a Chance

Blood Bathory: Like the Night

Blood Bathory: Absence of the Sun

Morning Musings

As I’m sitting here before leaving for work, I thought I’d throw together a quick post about a new obsession of mine – the Spartacus TV series from Starz which aired from 2010-2012. As usual, I’m late to the party, but then I don’t tend to watch much television beyond the things McKay and I watch together – namely Sleepy Hollow, The Walking Dead, Hell’s Kitchen (sometimes – not really into the latest run to be honest), and Master Chef. And I never watch things on the premium channels, because I just don’t have the time or interest to worry about what they’re showing. So yes, I missed The Sopranos, I don’t care about Mad Men or Game of Thrones. I tend to be a failure at any pop culture that isn’t related to science fiction.

But one day my husband (who watches an incredible amount of TV) left the set on, I don’t even remember what channel it was, and I became aware of this bloody (and I do mean BLOODY), violent fight happening on the screen, and I looked up and saw a bare-chested Dustin Clare wielding two swords, and I got sucked in at once. I watched the rest of the episode, and by the end I was hooked.

What I saw happened to be a scene from Spartacus: Gods of the Arena, which is a prequel series to the main Spartacus saga. I mentioned my interest to McKay, who poked around and suddenly hit me with the zinger that there was at least one canonically gay couple on the show, and once I got a look at Pana Hema-Taylor and Dan Feuerrigal I knew I was lost. I HAD to watch this show, and so I started with Spartacus: Blood and Sand, the first season. I was a couple of episodes in when McKay also decided she was interested, but we both really wanted to see the Agron/Nasir romance, which doesn’t happen until the second season. So I skipped the rest of the first season and McKay and I started watching second season.

All I can say is wow. Normally I’m not a fan of blood and gore, which there is PLENTY of in this show, enough to make The Walking Dead look positively mild by comparison. But it’s really sort of over-the-top in the “300” kind of way, so it doesn’t bother me much. And the romance between Agron and Nasir more than makes up for all of it! The beauty of the show is that homosexuality is treated absolutely no differently than heterosexuality. None of the other characters so much as raise a brow about it, and what’s even better is that there is no attempt to make either character “girly”. Nasir is definitely smaller than Agron in physical size, and while he has some truly gentle qualities, he becomes as fierce and deadly a warrior as Agron. The characters are affectionate with one another, as much as any of the het couples, and perhaps even a bit more so. In fact, I think that their relationship is portrayed the most realistically and romantically of any on the show. Granted that almost all the characters have issues (with a capital I!!) but the Agron/Nasir relationship is allowed to blossom and flourish without the overtones of guilt, pain, and betrayal that most of the het relationships have.

Anyway, yes, my new addiction in Spartacus. If you are interested in a show with a LOT of eye candy and don’t mind blood, it’s definitely worth checking out!

What we’re working on

Ari and I usually have 2-3 works in progress at any given time. We like having multiple drafts going because if we hit a wall with one work, we can set it aside for a while and pick up with something else. Sometimes, we need to put something aside because it’s a long work, like the Blood Bathory novels, and we need a break from it or we need to knock out a shorter work for a submission call. Sometimes we need to stop and think about where to next. Sometimes it just fizzles, which is usually a sign we need to back up and regroup — and rewrite!

Right now, we’re actively working on two drafts. One is the third novel in the Blood Bathory trilogy. I’d say we’re about 2/3rd finished. This is a manuscript that’s been stopped and restarted probably three times for various reasons, mainly due to the dynamic between the two leading characters not working out right. But we’ve finally got it right this time, and it’s rolling along.

The other one is a follow-up to Finding Forgiveness. When we introduced Carlos as Matt’s ex-lover, we intended him to be a minor character who provided some additional tension between Matt and Gil. However, he ended up with a larger role and a richer backstory, and now he’s getting his own book.

In Finding Forgiveness, Carlos mentions the man he lost because his feet and his eyes wandered too much. Obviously, he still carries a torch for that man, so we’re giving him a second chance to win back the man he loves.

Initially, Carlos was the name of the ranch hand whose mare was having trouble foaling, but when Matt’s ex arrived, I wanted to switch names and give the name Carlos to the character with the larger role because I’m a Welcome to Night Vale fan, and I adore Carlos the scientist.

We knew Carlos needed to be sexy in order to make Gil jealous. I remembered an interview I’d seen with Cecil Baldwin, who said he imagined Carlos the scientist as looking like a hot Brazilian model. It didn’t take much Googling to find my perfect Carlos: Beto Malfacini.

 

We’ve made pretty good progress on the draft despite real life-related interruptions, so we’re hoping to get it finished, polished, and submitted before the end of the year. Hopefully our readers will enjoy reading about Carlos’ story of old flames, redemption, and forgiveness.

Finding Forgiveness release day!

Our historical Western, Finding Forgiveness, is now available from Dreamspinner Press! It’s 200 pages for $5.99. We both enjoy writing historicals — and there will likely be a sequel to this one. ;)

Boston in 1888 is quite urbane, but unfortunately for Gil Porter, that isn’t the same thing as being understanding. When his sexuality is exposed by the scandalous suicide of his lover, Gil is exiled to the small town of Mercy, Texas, by his domineering father, George, who believes life on Vernon Porter’s ranch will cure Gil of his “unnatural” desires. Grieving and ashamed, Gil is determined to keep his distance from everyone until he can return home. To his surprise, he finds acceptance at Bent Oak Ranch, especially from Matt Grayson, the handsome son of the ranch foreman. Knowing he must fight his attraction to Matt, Gil courts a local girl, but an unexpected encounter with Matt leads to his discovery of Matt’s feelings for him. Torn between Matt and his desire to be “normal,” between returning to his old life and building a new one in Texas, Gil is faced with a choice—appeasing his father or becoming the man Matt knows he can be.

Finding Forgiveness sneak peek!

On Sept. 24 — one more week! — our new Historical Western novel will be released! Finding Forgiveness is now available for preorder for $5.99 at Dreamspinner Press. To celebrate our upcoming release, we thought we’d share a little preview. We hope you enjoy it!

 

Finding Forgiveness Sneak Peek:

Two weeks passed in a blur of hard work and not enough sleep as Gil slowly settled into the routine of the ranch. His internal clock adjusted to rising early, although he still didn’t much like it. After spending a couple of days inspecting the fence, Matt set him to helping brand the calves, which was the most unpleasant task Gil had ever performed in his life. Despite his exhaustion at the end of the day, he could still hear their pained bleating ringing in his ears.

After that, Matt had him help with breaking the new horses, but that didn’t last long. Gil tried his best, but he didn’t have the strength or skill with horses to do much good. When they tried putting him on the back of one that was half-trained, he lasted all of two seconds and got the wind knocked out of him, which everyone except Matt seemed to find funny.

Matt moved him quickly to haying, the job Gil was able to perform best out of everything he’d tried so far. It didn’t require any particular skill, and while the repetitive motions made his muscles ache, it was somewhat soothing as well.

The only break he received was on the afternoon when Matt took him into town to the mercantile so he could buy clothes that actually fit. Much to his chagrin, the shopkeeper outfitted him with clothes usually worn by young men who hadn’t reached their full growth, but at least he now had a wardrobe suitable for manual labor. He folded up everything he’d brought from Boston and stored it all in his steamer trunk, leaving out one suit for Sundays. The rest of it was useless now.

With his days consumed by labor, his memories of life in Boston began to fade. He couldn’t say he was enjoying what he did. Given a choice, he’d prefer not to spend all day wielding a pitchfork and getting hay dust up his nose, but at least it was useful work. The burning anger and resentment he’d felt on arrival had begun to fade as well, and while he still kept to himself as much as possible, using courtesy as a protective shield, it was no longer as difficult to be polite as it had been. But he still wasn’t interested in talking more than he had to or forming any attachments. He knew all too well how dangerous that was, and he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

Gil heard Jeanie ringing the dinner bell as he finished unsaddling and grooming Cherry, since he was expected to take care of the horse assigned for his use. Matt was already finished with Wendigo and was waiting on him, but Gil couldn’t quicken his pace. After so much haying, his hands were stiff and sore, and his palms were covered with blisters that grew worse every day. He refused to speak of it, however, not wanting to show weakness, especially not to Jeb Grayson. He had vowed he would do his work without complaint, and he intended to do just that, no matter how painful. Eventually he finished and put away the grooming equipment, then joined Matt at the barn door at last.

Matt looked at him with unmistakable concern in his hazel eyes. “What’s the matter with your hands?” he asked. “Don’t say nothin’, please. I can tell you’re havin’ trouble, so you might as well fess up so we can get it fixed.”

Gil forced himself not to grimace, but he couldn’t quite keep the irritated edge out of his voice. “I have a blister or two, that’s all.”

Matt held out his hand, not saying a word, just waiting. Gil repressed a sigh and resigned himself to the inevitable. As little as he liked Matt hovering over him, he had little choice in the matter. He lifted his left hand and revealed the palm, which didn’t look quite as raw as his right.

Matt frowned, and for the first time, he seemed genuinely angry. “You should’ve let me know,” he said tightly. “Don’t tell me this don’t hurt, because I know it does. I should have realized….” He shook his head and looked Gil straight in the eye. “If you’re ever injured—I don’t care how small—you need to let someone know, not try to live up to some damn-fool notion of bein’ manly. We work around horse and cow manure all day, Gil. If somethin’ like this got infected, they might have to amputate your hands.”

If Gil particularly cared about the life that stretched out ahead of him, he might have been alarmed. As it was, however, the threat of death didn’t strike fear in his heart. “I’m not trying to be manly. I simply didn’t deem it worthy of complaint,” he replied with a diffident shrug.

“Listen to me,” Matt said, his tone brooking no argument. “I know you feel like you ain’t worth nothin’, but now it looks like you’re actually punishin’ yourself for somethin’. I don’t know what it is, but it don’t matter, do you hear me? You need to let it go and start carin’ about yourself again. Inflictin’ unnecessary pain on yourself ain’t gonna fix whatever is wrong.”

“Nothing can fix it.” The words were out before Gil could think better of speaking them, and he couldn’t recall them no matter how much he wanted to. Frowning, he withdrew his hand. “What I do is none of your concern anyway.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Matt’s jaw clenched, and then he blew out a breath, obviously trying to calm himself down. “You said you’d do whatever tasks you’re given without complaint. Well, one of your tasks is to tell me or Vernon if you’re hurt. It ain’t complainin’ to report an injury. It’s just pure common sense. For right now, I’m gonna clean up your hands and bandage them, and you ain’t workin’ tomorrow and maybe not the day after.”

“Then what exactly am I supposed to do?” Gil stared at Matt, bewildered. After all the jabs Jeb had made about his usefulness, he didn’t want to think about what the foreman would have to say about him not working for two days.

“I have no idea. Maybe you can help Vernon with the paperwork,” Matt replied. “Let’s get into the house so I can clean up your hands.”

Gil wished he had some way to avoid revealing his injury to Uncle Vernon and Jeb. “What will your father say?” he asked hesitantly.

Matt flushed under his tan, an indication he was well aware of what his father would say. None of Matt’s and Jeanie’s scolding for Jeb’s constant poking at Gil had stopped the elder Grayson from doing it. Matt bit his lip and looked at Gil intently for several moments.

“Wait here,” he said sternly. “I need to get some things, but I’ll be right back. Don’t touch anything, you hear me? Not one damned thing.”

“Very well.” Gil nodded, wondering if he was getting a reprieve somehow. At least he wouldn’t have his hands tended to under Jeb’s scornful eye.

Matt released his hand and nodded. “Not one thing!” he repeated, then turned and hurried toward the house.

Gil moved away from the door and went to sit down on a wooden bench, letting his hands rest palm-up on his knees while he waited for Matt to return. He sat quietly and listened to the sounds of the horses, finding their soft whickering restful. He rarely had time alone these days unless he was bathing or asleep, and he enjoyed the respite while it lasted.

About ten minutes later, Matt returned, flushed and out of breath. He had two bags with him as well as a bowl.

“Thank you for behavin’,” he said quietly as he placed the bowl full of water on the bench next to Gil. Next, he took a few clean cloths and a bar of soap from one of the bags. “This is gonna hurt. I’m sorry, but I’ll be as quick and gentle as I can, all right?”

“Do what you must,” Gil replied, bracing himself.

Matt nodded and dipped one of the cloths into the water. As he was lathering up soap onto it, however, Jeanie suddenly appeared at the door of the barn. She hurried over to them, her expression worried, and Gil could see she held a bottle of whiskey.

“You’ll need this,” she said softly, pulling the cork and handing Gil the bottle. She bent quickly and kissed Gil on the forehead as she often did to Matt. Then she turned and hurried off before he could say anything. Gil looked at the bottle and then at her retreating figure before turning a puzzled look on Matt.

“She blistered up her hands something awful learning to churn butter when she was a little girl,” Matt explained. “She tried to be brave, but it hurt bad and she cried, and she was embarrassed to let Pa know what had happened. So you have all her sympathy because she knows how it feels, and she said to tell you that if you’re ever hurt, you can tell her, and she’ll fix it, and no one else ever has to know. Not even me, if you want it that way.”

Stunned into silence, Gil couldn’t respond at first. He wasn’t accustomed to having such sympathy directed at him, and he especially didn’t expect to receive it from Jeanie, considering how rude he’d been when they first met. He was far more accustomed to people like Jeb. Sympathy and understanding were foreign to him, and he distracted himself with taking a swallow of whiskey to cover the prickling of his eyelids that had nothing to do with the pain in his hands.

Matt made no comment. He simply knelt beside the bench, took Gil’s left hand, and began to clean it. It stung, but Matt was gentle and careful, the same way Gil had seen him be when dealing with injured animals. When Matt had cleaned the red oozing skin to his satisfaction, he took a clean cloth and dipped it again in the warm water to rinse away the soap. After that, he removed a tin of salve from the bag and applied it. Gil didn’t know what was in the stuff, but it immediately soothed the stinging of his skin and seemed to ease the stiffness too. Finally Matt wrapped a clean cotton bandage around his palm and tied it off.

“That’s one done,” he said, looking up at Gil with a smile. “Time for the other one.”

Gil nodded, switching the whiskey bottle so he could hold out his right hand, then took another swig of whiskey more for his emotional turmoil than any physical pain. He couldn’t help being acutely aware of how warm and gentle Matt’s hands were, and his skin woke up at Matt’s touch, tingling pleasurably in ways Gil wanted to ignore and forget.

A small sigh escaped Matt as he looked at Gil’s right hand, which was definitely worse than the left. But he made no comment, simply set about cleaning and dressing it as gently and thoroughly as he had the left. It took a bit longer, but at last he finished and rose to his feet.

“I’m no doctor, but I reckon that’ll do,” he said, brushing hay and dirt off his knees. He smiled crookedly at Gil. “I told Pa and Vernon that we weren’t at dinner because I was making you curry Cherry again. I hope you don’t mind, since Pa will probably twit you for it, but it was all I could come up with. I’m a piss-poor liar to begin with, and lyin’ to Pa and Vernon ain’t somethin’ I normally do anyway.”

“No, I don’t mind.” Gil peeked up at Matt through his lashes, imagining he could still feel the warm trails left on his skin by the brush of Matt’s fingers. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Matt replied softly. He tossed out the remaining water from the bowl, then repacked the supplies in the first bag before dropping down onto the bench next to Gil. He reached for the second bag, opened it, and pulled out a paper-wrapped package containing two sandwiches made with thick slices of ham. He offered one to Gil. “Jeanie made these for us real quick so we wouldn’t starve. She said she’d give a little ring on the dinner bell when Jeb and Vernon have left the table. Then we can go in through the kitchen so they won’t see the bandages.”

Gil accepted the sandwich, but he didn’t eat, watching Matt with growing bewilderment. “Why?”

“Why what?” Matt gave Gil a questioning look.

“Why are you going to the trouble of all this subterfuge?”

Matt lowered his sandwich and shrugged. “You didn’t want Pa to know, and I understand why. You get enough grief from him already. So we don’t let him find out. Once we go back in the house, you can go up to your room, and he won’t see a thing. In the mornin’, we’ll get up a bit early and head out before breakfast to ride fence. With gloves on, your hands should be okay so long as we don’t ride hard. We’ll come back after supper, and you can go upstairs again. I’m hopin’ by the next mornin’, your hands’ll be good enough so you can eat at the table. If not… well, we’ll think of somethin’.”

Gil couldn’t think of anyone in his own family who would have helped him in such a way. On the contrary, his sisters would have lined up to report his latest failure to Father. The weight of expectations bore down heavily on his shoulders, and no one had ever tried to lighten the load, only demanded more.

“Thank you,” he murmured, although he felt it was inadequate under the circumstances.

That earned him a playful smile. “Anytime,” Matt said. “Believe me, there are a few things I’ve had to hide from Pa over the years. Jeanie and me cover for each other, so we don’t mind helpin’ you. I love my pa, but there are times when he can be a sore trial. I imagine it’s much worse for you, because you ain’t fond of him to start with.”

“In some ways, he’s like my father.” Gil stared down at the sandwich without really seeing it. “I dislike what he says, but I’m accustomed to it.”

Matt’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Parents. I’m pure mortified by the things Pa has said to you, but I can’t stop him. I think he’s hard on you ’cause he thinks it’ll make you tough. Either that, or he thinks you’re a threat. I can’t decide which it is. Maybe both.”

“A threat?” Gil glanced up, frowning. “How could I possibly be a threat to him?”

“You can’t see it?” Matt shrugged. “Vernon has always treated us like his family. Pa became foreman here when me and Jeanie were small. I had only just started school, and Jeanie is two years younger. Our ma died havin’ another baby who died too, and it broke Pa up. Vernon saw somethin’ in Pa he liked, though, and it helped Pa get over feelin’ like a failure and gave him somethin’ to work for. Pa would walk through fire if Vernon asked him to, and he even saved Vernon’s life once on a cattle drive when Vernon got bit by a snake. But close as they are, and much as Vernon loves us, we ain’t his real family. Sure, Vernon don’t have no use for your pa, but I told you he was excited to have you come here, didn’t I? Like he finally found someone out of all his kin he could like. So if you stay, and you and Vernon grow close… I guess Pa might feel like you’d be more important to Vernon than we are. But that’s just my thinkin’. I ain’t sayin’ it’s exactly what my pa is thinkin’.”

That reasoning made perfect sense, and Gil wouldn’t be surprised if some—perhaps most—of Jeb’s animosity sprang from feeling threatened. Liberally mingled with contempt for a soft city boy, of course.

“I pose no threat to any of you,” Gil said with a quiet sigh. “I’m an outsider here. I can’t imagine my uncle would want me to stay.”

“You’re only an outsider if you want to be,” Matt replied. “I ain’t threatened by you, nor is Jeanie, because we love Vernon, and that love don’t depend on this ranch. We’d love him if he hadn’t a cent to his name, and if there is one thing I know, it’s that Vernon has a heart as big as Texas and plenty of love to give to you, if you want it. It don’t take away from him lovin’ us. And he does love you, you know. I think part of it is because he went through somethin’ with his pa sorta like what you’re goin’ through with yours. Never did find out what it was, but I got the feelin’ they were as happy to have Vernon away from Boston as he was to be gone.”

Gil didn’t have many memories of his grandfather, but what few he did have made it easy to believe that Uncle Vernon hadn’t lived up to the expectations placed on him.

“Perhaps he does understand and even sympathizes,” Gil conceded. “But love? I doubt it.”

“You just don’t know Vernon,” Matt replied easily. “I don’t know why he never married and had a passel of kids. Maybe he got his heart broke young and it put him off women, but he would have been a great pa.” He chuckled. “Heard Vernon say once ‘anyone with a corset around her waist wants to put a noose around my neck.’ Maybe Boston women soured him on the fairer sex.”

Or perhaps we have more in common than I realized, Gil thought, his eyes widening slightly. Although if that was the case, he didn’t understand why Uncle Vernon hadn’t said something—assuming he knew the full reason behind Gil’s banishment. “I don’t know, either. Father never spoke of him much until he decided to ship me here.”

“Vernon has sure had plenty to say about your pa, though.” Matt’s eyes gleamed wickedly. “Mostly about how he ain’t got enough sense to teach a hen to cluck. But I think even if you don’t know Vernon, he feels he’s gotten to know you through what your pa has said,” Matt continued. “Because he’s such a lovin’ man, I’m sure you’re in his heart already. A body can’t have too many people who love ’em, you know.” He paused for a moment. “But anyways, don’t pay no mind to my pa. He’ll come around. In the meantime, we’ll keep you hid until your hands are better, so you don’t catch the backside of his tongue. Like I said, me and Jeanie can handle this, if you’re willin’ to go along with us. Maybe you don’t like it here so much, but we’ll do what we can to make it more bearable for you, if you’ll let us.”

For the first time, Gil thought he understood what acceptance felt like. He didn’t understand why Matt, Jeanie, and even his uncle were willing to offer something his own family had not, but he could no longer deny it was real.

“I’m willing,” he said softly.