The Art of Husbandry (Mackenzie Country, #1)

by Jay Hogan

Every maddening centimetre of him. His bare shoulder tip formed a circle of fire against my own. His hand brushing scorch marks over mine as he moved the fleece and pointed out this and that. The soft brown hairs on his forearm, so close I could count each one. The wash of his breath across my cheek, sending goosebumps crawling down my spine as he talked and talked and talked—the words rattling in my head like scattered pinballs, their meaning eclipsed by waves of sensation, of vibrant, tingling living colour on a greyed-out life. Second by second, Holden was forcing my body to remember, forcing it to break that dusty seal of grief. To bring me back to life without even trying, without even knowing what he was doing, and in a woolshed for fuck’s sake. I was coming alive in a smelly, dusty, cobweb-strewn woolshed. I was feeling something more than grief and anger for the first time in forever. And all I could do, all I wanted to do, was absolutely nothing. Nothing but let it happen. Nothing but let him happen . . . to me.

“Holden’s a good man, Gil, not that I’m biased. But I worry about his heart, and being gay in these parts still has its challenges. It can add to the isolation.” I finished tying my laces, then looked up. “I’m not quite sure what you think—” I stopped at the don’t-bullshit-me expression on her face and groaned. “Okay. So, how did you know?” Emily’s mouth curved up in a warm smile. “Because I know my son. And I’ve never seen him look at someone the way he does you. If you’re in the same room, he can hardly keep his eyes off you.” Oh god. “And the same goes for you.” “We’re not together.” I rushed to set her right, heat racing into my cheeks. “And also, is there a sign on my forehead or something? Because your vet picked me for not being straight as well.” “Spencer?” Emily looked amused. “No surprise there. That man is like a homing pigeon for dick. Just please don’t hurt Holden if you can avoid it.” “And as I said, nothing’s happening between us. Sure, we like each other, but we figured it wouldn’t be a good move, for a lot of reasons.” She gave me a calculating look. “It’s a tricky complication for a man who’s looking to find himself.” I shook my head and stared out into the grey wash of morning brightening the backyard. “You’d be right about that.” “Mmm.” She grabbed her jacket and ran her hand over my shoulder. “Doesn’t mean it’s wrong, Gil.”

“Luke had a fling with some young guy a while back, and it . . . hurt. I felt . . . forgotten, I guess, and it seemed like he was moving on from Callie, leaving me behind. I was so fucking angry with him. I still am if I let myself feel it. But I know it’s not fair. I know he was just trying to have a life again, and it’s not like we were together. Tucker told me it didn’t last long, but I just couldn’t understand how Luke could do that.” I stepped back and let my gaze drift over Holden’s face. “And then I kissed you that day in the woolshed.” I ran my thumb over his full lips. “And I felt more alive than I’d done in years. And suddenly—” I looked him in the eye. “—I understood.” He took hold of my hands. “What did you understand?” I took a few seconds to think, wanting to get the words right. “I understood that grief and attraction and like and love don’t compete in some kind of linear race where only one can be in the lead at any one time. It’s more like a washing machine—everything present at the same time in a tangled, messy jumble. Sometimes one thing is on top, sometimes another. But paying attention to one doesn’t mean all the other stuff disappears.” Holden smiled and kissed my forehead. “And that’s why they pay you the big bucks.”

I didn’t know where the hell Holden and I thought we were heading. Different parts of the country. Different ways of life. Commitments on both sides. His station. My practice. But I’d bought the ticket and I was going along for the ride, so help me. Was it a bad decision? Maybe. But at least it was a decision. I was done with standing still. Standing still was going to bury me, slowly, one grey day at a time. And I was done being scared to live again.

“You know, I’d forgotten what this feels like,” I shouted into the storm. “What?” he yelled back over his shoulder. “Happiness,” I answered, my tears mingling with the rain to be washed off my face. He laughed and punched the air, the two of us whooping like crazy people through the final three hundred metres to the shed. It lasted less than a minute but felt like hours—the force of the rain, the rare bubble of joy in my chest, the musical ring of Holden’s laughter, his arse grinding back on my dick, his raw passion for his land, his home, his people . . . me. The high country works its own kind of miracles. Something ignited in my chest, something that felt a lot like hope. Endings and beginnings. The tail of one into the head of another.

And as he slept with his eyelashes laced over his cheek, his heart beating strong against my chest, and his arm still tight around my waist, I whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you, Gil.” Oh god. My heart thumped against my ribs and then pretty much gave out as Holden stumbled on. “I know no-nothing about love.” His words tripped over each other, gathering speed. “Hell, I know fuck all about relationships, period. And I get that this thing between us is supposed to have a time limit, and looks impossible on paper, and comes with a whole lot of problems—” “Holden—” “—including the fact that you have a life in Wellington and you’re only just out of your marriage, but none of that changes how I feel.” He drew a quick breath before ploughing on. “And what relationship doesn’t have its problems, right? And I’m really sorry if this screws up why you came here, or what’s happening between us—” “Holden,” I tried again but he was on a roll, and the desperate longing in his face broke over my heart in a wave of emotion. “—but I’m also not going to pretend that I don’t feel what I do—head-rushing, parachute-gone, ground-coming-up-fast-with-no-safety-net in love with you. It kind of hit me like a truck watching you put that bastard in his place this afternoon. You’re it for me, Gil. Story done. And I apologise now for the total idiot I just made of myself and for likely scaring you the hell away.”

“Jesus, Holden, the things you say.” I ran my thumb over his lips, joy and panic warring in my heart. Like he could read my mind, he quickly added, “If it’s too much, if you’re not ready, I totally get it.” He rolled me onto my back and stared down at me. “I’ve never felt this before and it scares the shit out of me as well, but not as much as not telling you does. I’d rather tell you and lose you than have you leave without knowing the place you’ve carved out in my heart.”

“When Callie died and Luke walked away, I thought I was done with relationships. I never wanted to hurt like that again. I felt such a goddammed failure in my own life, and I think I came here partly looking for some kind of redemption.” “Did you find it?” Holden’s finger started a small circle on my chest, round and around. I tipped his chin up to look at me. “I think I might be seeing the shape of it forming.” He swallowed hard. “Do I . . . have a place in that shape?” Far more than you know. “I’d like you to. Because I—” I took a deep breath and swallowed hard, my hand sliding up the side of his face. “I love you too, baby. So damn much.”

“You’re allowed to heal, Gil. And I’m so fucking sorry that I couldn’t be the one to help with that. But maybe he can. Holden. If you let him. You can’t always have all the answers and there are no guarantees. That’s why it’s called a leap of faith. That’s what all love is.”

I get that you have a whole life and a practice, business thing to consider. But right now, I don’t care about those. I just want you. Here, with me. So do what you have to do, but you come back here, and I’ll be waiting to talk. Not just listen. But don’t come back and just say no without talking about options. I’m not losing you that easily. Give me a chance, please. This life suits you, baby. You might not be able to see it yet, but I do. You belong here. You belong with me. And I refuse to leave you on the hill.”