Lay Me Down (Kyle/Oliver) *WIP*
Story Title: Lay Me Down - Chapter Four (*WIP*)
Author's Name: rhombus_
Pairing: Kyle/Oliver
Rating: R
Warnings: AU setting; historical inaccuracies; cliches
Summary: Kish in the Old West. Yep. That about sums it up. AU (of course).
Disclaimer: Characters ≠ mine.
Previous parts:
Chapter One - The Vow
Chapter Two - Our Own Place
Chapter Three - The Lesson
Lay Me Down
Chapter Four - This Land Is Your Land
---
Lakeside Ranch, Montana Territory. 1878.
Oliver Fish, age 15.
---
“Where are you going?”
Oliver had one step out the front door, a book tucked under his arm, when his mother’s voice stopped him.
“Just for a walk.” He adjusted his hat over his head. “It’s such a lovely day out, I thought it would be nice to do some reading out of doors.”
“Oh?” Her eyes narrowed in on the book.
Oliver nodded, turning his gaze away from her. “Mm hmm.”
“Oliver?”
“Yes?” He turned back, reluctantly.
“Please... return before supper.”
He smiled. “I will.”
“And be safe.”
“I will.” She looked anxious, so he grabbed her small, gloved hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s just a walk, Ma. I’ll be fine.” Leaning in, he laid a kiss on her soft, warm cheek. “You don’t have to worry about me so much, you know.”
“I do. And I will. For as long as I live.” She placed lace-covered palms on his face, very gently, as if she were afraid he would break. It was a gesture that used to bring him comfort; now, it only made him feel small. He reached up and removed the hands.
“Okay,” he said, because he felt he had to say something.
She smiled, a sad smile, then turned back inside, her shoulders sloping at a deeper angle than usual. Salma met her in the hall. They exchanged quiet words. Salma’s eyes darted up to him, then quickly back down. He noticed again how gray and heavy she’d gotten; it had been such a gradual change as to sneak up on him sometimes. He thought, too, there was an air of bad spirits about her now that hadn’t been there before. Every glance was suspicious, every word hissed out like a threat. He’d looked up the word bruja-and he hated to admit how fitting it seemed now. A woman he had once loved like a mother, now somehow a peril to his happiness. It wasn’t right. He didn’t know what he could do to fix it. To make things like they were before. Sometimes he didn’t even know if he wanted to. Everything was all confused in his head.
To be a man, he had to forge his own way. To be loved, he had to do what he was told. He couldn’t seem to find a way to make the two fit together.
With a heavy sigh, he wandered out of the house. After a few yards, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned. Salma, some paces back, a wooden bucket in her hands. She kept her eyes down and ambled over to the water pump. Oliver kept going, looking back every few feet to keep an eye on her. On the third turn he caught her watching him like a red-tailed hawk watched the prairie dog.
It set a sudden coldness in his heart.
He pivoted, with as much nonchalance as he could muster, and turned back toward her, walked past her, circling around the south end of the main house, out of sight. It made his trek longer, but it was worth it to keep her off his trail. To keep her from reporting back to his mother with his every wrong move.
As he made his third left, a sliver of guilt passed through him. He didn’t like lying.
But-he wasn’t really lying. He was going for a walk. He was going to read. He just omitted the part in the middle where the walk led him to the field, the field led him to the stables, the stables led him to...
“Kyle,” he said, exhaling it on a breath. He closed the barn door behind him quietly.
Kyle looked up from his work, and his whole face smiled. Every inch of it. Oliver was transfixed by it.
“You ready to go?”
Oliver nodded eagerly and jogged for a saddle.
They had planned this day special. Neither had much leeway when it came to time to use at their choosing. Their lives were stuffed full with responsibility. Sneaking away at night for reading lessons or for short periods of the day to watch Kyle work with the horses was all Oliver could offer to the reforged friendship. Until Kyle proposed this getaway.
It had been a bit of work, rearranging his tutor schedule without raising any suspicions. He knew it had been harder for Kyle. With all the duties he was expected to perform around the ranch, and hardly a hand of help. Oliver had proposed, one day, to split Kyle’s workload among the two of them. Kyle simply smirked and cracked a joke about Oliver’s ‘delicate hands’ before uniformly refusing his offer.
That didn’t stop him from offering the next day, or the next. It had become the natural way to begin many of their conversations.
“Can I-?”
“Nope.”
Or, “Let me just-”
“I got it, Oliver.”
And then they moved on, smiling at the easy comfort of it all. At being in each other’s company, even in disagreement.
Kyle ushered two horses out of their stalls: the little gray one he called Jinny, and the large brown one, which didn’t seem to have a name. Oliver stepped toward the brown.
“Try again,” Kyle said.
“But you love Jinny!” Oliver whined.
“I also love my own precious life.” Kyle adjusted his saddle over the sturdy back of the big male. “And if you ended up with a broken skull under my watch, I’m sure as eggs is eggs your parents’d hang me for it.”
Oliver scowled at him, but it was all for show, really. He kind of liked that Kyle looked after him, even if he didn’t need looking after.
“Plus,” Kyle said with a wicked grin, “this way I can keep my two favorites in my sights at all times.”
A hot blush seized Oliver’s cheeks. He lowered his hat in a futile attempt to hide it. Kyle stepped over and bumped a playful fist against his shoulder.
“Aww, widdle Ollie. You’re so cute when you go all red-like.”
“Shut up.” He pushed Kyle away, with little real force. Kyle shot him that wicked grin again. It made Oliver’s heart pump a little faster in his chest. “We should-” He cleared his throat, tried again. “We should go.”
Kyle adjusted his own hat tighter over his head, then mounted his horse. Soon enough they were on the open range. Kyle was something of a noisy rider, always yelling something, even just an unintelligible grunt, but the horses seemed to understand, even if Oliver didn’t.
They gradually increased their speed. Oliver loved the feel of gusting air rippling through his shirts, the exhilaration of it hitting his face and sending a shiver along his cheeks. They rode and rode, accompanied by a symphony of noises: hooves springing off hard ground, deep breaths, whistling wind, Kyle’s whoops of joy. Up ahead, the mountains grew ever closer.
And then they saw it.
Oliver never failed to marvel at the impossible beauty of the geography. How the green-gray waves of the prairie gave way to the dark-forest lushness of the mountains. And stretching between them, glimmering like blue diamonds under the sun, lay the lake. Its gentle waters lapped against a rocky shoreline along the mountainside. A softer shore of silt and pebbles curved along the western rim, crowned by a tufting of short buckthorn trees-their leaves glossy and green, peppered with the late-spring bloom of yellow flowers-growing in the shade of a small pine forest. Along the eastern shore, long, pale grasses sprouted all the way down to the water’s edge, though thick trails were crushed flat into swirling beds under the hooves of thirsty foragers.
They rode west, then circled around the expansive lake on a northward bearing, up the sloping land toward the mountains. Horseshoes clopped over hard rock as they turned once more and made their way inward through a winding copse of shrubby, fragrant trees. Pine needles gave way to papery leaves, which in turn gave way to an open blue sky. They were in a small clearing; the lake sparkled in front of them, its far-most edge butting up against a tiered and dewy rock wall.
Cutting through the cracks of the mountain, a waterfall cascaded down craggy, mossy cliffs. A constant white mist danced atop the surface of the wide, deep pool at its base.
Kyle dismounted in front of him, leading his horse toward a shaded area of trees and soft land. Oliver meant to follow, but he was frozen by the sight of the place. He’d been here many times before, as a child, but he had somehow taken its beauty for granted. Now he could appreciate it better.
Now he could see it for what it really was: Paradise.
Atop his horse, he breathed in deep, and felt his body come alive with the vibrant, overflowing spirit of the land. It was easy to imagine he and Kyle had been granted entry to the garden of life.
He doubted even Victor Lord’s heirs had any tract of land to rival its beauty.
Shaking his head, he refocused, dismounted, and went about making Jinny as comfortable-but secure-as possible. Kyle’s horse was already settled, its nose at the water’s edge and a bag of oats within easy reach. Kyle himself stood bootless on the rocks overlooking the pool. Then he started undressing, pulling at the buttons on his neck as if they had caused him great offense.
Oliver kept his focus strictly on tying Jinny’s reins in a knot around a tree branch. He gaze certainly didn’t drift to Kyle... to bare marble shoulders... to the soft slope of his unclothed back... to his hair, sticking up in all directions after he tossed his hat to the side... to the indentation of his hips as he quickly dragged off his duckins and long johns...
No. Oliver was certain he had focused-double-focused, really-on the important task of tying his horse to the tree. He tested the knot as Kyle dove head-first into the lake. Which Oliver barely registered, of course. Because he had important knot-tying to attend to.
He found a patch of comfortable ground to make his seat, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and opened his book.
Only to have a bit of water splash against his hands and arms.
“Cut that out,” he said, not bothering to look up.
His only response was another splash, larger than the last. He sighed and lowered his book. “What?”
Kyle poked his head out of the water. “Come swim with me.”
“I’m reading.”
“You can do that later. Come swim with me.”
Oliver rolled his eyes and brought his book back up, effectively blocking Kyle out. Kyle splished away with a loud “Urmph!” of displeasure. Oliver felt bad. It was supposed to be a day spent together, away from their responsibilities, and he was hiding behind his studies. Guilt gripped his heart; but it released its hold when another splash hit him square in the face.
“Eek!” he yelled. Or maybe growled. In any case, it was definitely not a squeal. Which didn’t explain why Kyle thought it was the funniest thing in the entire world.
Oliver sighed. He couldn’t possibly stay mad at that face. Not when it lit up brighter than he’d ever seen before. Kyle didn’t laugh a lot, and when he did, it was always... held back. Like he wouldn’t allow himself to really feel it. But not now. Now he was smiling and spitting up water and practically twirling with glee. Oliver had never seem him so... childlike. Even when he’d been a child.
So he stuck his tongue out and scooted further away from the water’s edge. It was a dare. Try it again, Kyle, and see what happens. But Kyle didn’t take the bait. Instead, he dipped under the water, his cheeks full of sucked-in air.
Slightly disappointed, Oliver shrugged his shoulders and returned his attention to his book. He pulled a pencil out of his pack to mark an important passage in the text. It was only a few minutes later that he noticed he hadn’t marked the passage at all, but had drawn in the empty space under the chapter-ending text. There was the lake, the waterfall, the horses. The lone figure standing on the rocks. Nude.
He quickly flipped the page.
That’s when he realized something was wrong.
A strange sound. Or-the lack of sound. No splishes. No splashes. He looked out into the small pool. No Kyle. Had he swum beyond the rock reef, into the main body of the lake? Oliver shaded his eyes, squinting into the distance, but he couldn’t see any sign of him. Returning his gaze to the waterfall, something caught his eye.
In the calm center of the pool, a bubble of air rose to the surface and popped.
A sudden fear surged through him, stronger than any feeling he’d ever felt in his life. He thought his heart might explode in his chest. He was frozen by it. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He could only think the same thought, over and over again: Kyle. Kyle under the water, possibly struggling for air.
And then time snapped back into place and he hopped off the ground, tugged off his boots, and dove into the water, fully-clothed.
Before he hit the water, Kyle’s head emerged. Oliver had just enough time to register the confusion in Kyle’s eyes before he painfully splatted against the surface. His entire body stung at the impact, but he pushed it aside, scrambled over to Kyle, grabbed his face and brushed droplets of water off of his skin.
“Oliver?”
“Are you okay?” he panted out.
Kyle plucked at his soaked shirt. “What’s going on?” He swung his head toward the shade trees. “Is it hornets? Fire ants?”
Oliver kept stroking his face. “I thought you were drowning!”
Kyle laughed. “What?”
“Drowning!” Oliver didn’t understand why Kyle didn’t understand. Hadn’t he been under the water, fighting for his life, just moments before?
Kyle shook his head, staring up at him with inquisitive eyes. “I was just trying to see if I could touch the bottom.”
“Oh,” Oliver breathed out. He realized Kyle’s hand was clutching at his wet cotton shoulder. He stared down at it. That’s when he noticed that his own arm-the one not keeping him afloat-had curled around Kyle’s back, holding him close. His skin felt warm and soft. “Oh,” he said again, releasing Kyle, who tilted his head as if studying him. Oliver felt ridiculous all over, treading water in his clothes, diving into pools to save people who didn’t need saving.
Kyle’s smile was gentle, though, and it helped soothe away his discomfort.
“I didn’t know you were paying such close attention, Oliver. I thought you were ignoring me.” He mock-pouted, but it turned into throaty laughter when Oliver revenged himself and splashed water right in Kyle’s face.
“I was trying to have a pleasant read in the shade. Dry was the preferable condition for it.”
“Well, now you’re all wet.”
“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed, Kyle.”
Kyle rolled his eyes at him, chuckling, then swam a little ways off.
“Hey, Kyle,” Oliver called out to him.
Kyle turned. “Yeah?”
“Warn me the next time you’re about to do something reckless or dangerous, okay?”
An exasperated smile played over Kyle’s lips. “Okay.”
“Or stupid!”
“Okay!” He was grinning like a fool now, though Oliver didn’t know why. “Now, get them wet clothes off and swim with me already!”
Oliver looked down at his drenched clothing. The way he figured, he had three options: sit in damp clothes, chafing and uncomfortable, while he read; let his clothes dry while he sat and waited, naked; or let his clothes dry while he swam a while with Kyle.
There was no choosing. It was so simple.
He pulled himself out of the water and, with his back to the pool, peeled off his sodden shirt. “Don’t look,” he called out before stripping off his britches. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t want to know if Kyle was looking or not. Either way it was embarrassing.
He laid his clothes out flat on a hot rock where they could sun-dry, then lowered himself slowly into the water. His stinging skin wouldn’t let him make the mistake of diving in again. Finally submerged, he turned and spotted Kyle, paddling toward the waterfall. Oliver followed him over.
“There’s a cave behind there,” Kyle said. His eyebrows seemed to raise in a challenge.
Oliver swallowed. “You wanna...?”
Kyle grinned at him. “It’s not so hard to get to. Don’t even have to go under. Just through.” Kyle demonstrated, waving an arm through the falling sheet of water to the empty space behind. “Come on!” he chirped, and then he disappeared into the mist, the water closing in behind him like a curtain. Oliver was more cautious. He poked a finger through. Finding no resistance, he sent in an exploratory arm. Then a shoulder. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and pushed in.
He opened his eyes to a dark, high cavern, its walls shimmering with dampness.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Kyle asked, his voice echoing slightly.
Oliver gulped, then nodded. “Yes. It is.” Sunlight reflected through the waterfall and cast the space in a greenish, phosphorescent glow. The backside of the waterfall glittered like falling diamonds. Oliver watched Kyle’s face as he stared at it with wide-eyed wonder. He couldn’t remember the last time Kyle looked so unwearied, so guileless, so free from worry and sorrow. It made him feel a little lightheaded. A little dizzy.
They really were in the garden of life, reborn as innocents. Eternal youth in the folds of paradise.
In the water, Kyle hooked a finger around Oliver’s.
Oliver didn’t pull away. The thought didn’t even cross his mind.
---
They lay in the shade after emerging from the lake, Kyle clad in his duckins, Oliver in nearly-dry trousers.
Oliver’s eyelids felt heavy, his head fuzzy and dull, and he drifted in and out of a peaceful sleep, the melody of birdsong and lapping water a chorus to dream by. He woke again when he felt movement beside him, and he watched with drowsy eyes as Kyle hopped over hot stones and disappeared behind the trees.
A few minutes later, he heard Kyle padding back toward him. He kept his eyes closed, concentrating on the sounds of birds, the rustle of leaves, the hypnotic splash of water against rock. It was the recipe for perfect repose. Until Kyle started slurping noisily on... something.
“Must you always be so... vulgar?” Oliver asked, grinning despite himself, his eyes still closed. Kyle only grunted at him in response, munching down louder.
Then something plush and fuzzy danced along Oliver’s lips. He angled his neck up and watched with pleasure as Kyle bounced a fat, red raspberry on his mouth. Smiling, he parted his lips, and Kyle pushed the fruit in with one finger. Its juices were bright and tangy and it made him feel young. Young and carefree and alive. Kyle reached over with another raspberry, and Oliver gladly popped his mouth open to be fed again.
He rested a hand behind his head and stared up at the sky through the trees, his other hand next to him on the ground, fingers splayed. Kyle lay on his bare stomach contemplating the dirt. After a few minutes, he turned on his side and faced Oliver. He began hopping his fingers through the empty spaces between Oliver’s, as if the ground were an instrument and Oliver’s fingers the note-demarcations. He had a faraway look on his face, as if he weren’t really there, as if he were thinking about something else, as if he didn’t even realize what he was doing in the here-and-now. It made Oliver smile. A warm feeling flowed through him. When Kyle finally came back to reality and noticed Oliver smiling at him, he smiled back, his eyes dancing with mischief.
With that impish grin and slim, contoured chest, he looked to Oliver like some sort of faerie prince, come alive from the pages of a storybook.
“What?” Oliver asked.
Kyle squinched up his face. “The ground’s all hard right here.”
“Then move.”
Kyle rolled over, sat up, and investigated his surroundings. Then he swiveled around, his back to Oliver, and lowered his head onto Oliver’s bare stomach, using it as a cushion.
“Ah. That’s better.”
His hair was still damp and a little cold; it sent a shiver through Oliver’s skin. But he found he didn’t mind so much.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Relaxing.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” Kyle said. “You’re all soft and squishy and comfy.”
Oliver tried to be offended. He truly did. But it was impossible. Not where they were. Not in their little oasis.
He closed his eyes, content to nap some more, when Kyle’s voice brought him back.
“You ever think about the future?”
Oliver opened an eye. “Pretty much all the time.”
He expected Kyle to say more, but he didn’t.
“What about you?”
“Oh, you know,” Kyle said. “Sure. But there isn’t really a point to it. Not for me, anyway.” His voice had gone low and hoarse, as if there were dirt in his throat. “I mean, I’m gonna be doing ten years from now what I’m doing now, and ten years after that, too.”
Oliver bit his lip. Then he smiled. “Using my belly as a pillow? Twenty long years from now? That’s a bold prediction, Kyle.”
That earned him a laugh.
“What would you do,” Kyle said softly, “if you could? If there was nothing stopping you?”
“You mean instead of ranching?”
“Yeah. Instead of ranching.”
Oliver sucked on his lower lip and imagined his future self, as he often did. He allowed himself a moment to strip away the constraints. The expectations. The realities of his world.
“More than anything?” He sucked in a deep breath. “I wanted to be a lawman, you know. Like-like a sheriff. Or a marshall. Protect people.” Be strong.
“I remember,” Kyle said. “You never would let me be sheriff. Not that it mattered to me, a’course.”
Oliver swallowed. “I don’t know if you know this, but my pa was a Texas Ranger. Until the yanks came in and took over, that is. That’s when he moved up here. There was a cattle drive, and he volunteered, and I guess it stuck. He even learned to like the Mexicans. He bought land, married my ma, and the rest... the rest you know.”
Kyle angled his head up to look at him. “You should do it.”
“Do what?”
“Be what you want.”
Oliver thought about disputing it. He decided to divert instead.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What would you do, if you could?”
Kyle stared down, picking at a fallen leaf on the ground. “There’s no point in saying.”
Oliver laughed. “You made me.”
There was a pause. And then, “You remember when Jinny took up ill?”
Oliver squinted. He couldn’t recall...
“The horse,” Kyle said, as if Oliver needed clarification. “Well, she wasn’t doing so good, and Hector wanted to put her down. This was before he was blind as a bat and worked with the horses still. Anyway, Hector was all ready to shoot her dead. But your pa, he was soft on her. Who wouldn’t be? He came in and said, ‘No. Let’s fix her up.’ So he called in the farrier, and it took a while, a lot of cuts and salves and medicines, but that farrier did it. He fixed her up. Not good as new, but good as good.”
“I had no idea.” It must have been when he was away from all that. “So that’s what you want to be? A farrier?” That seemed quite doable for someone in Kyle’s situation.
Kyle pinched his lips together. “Maybe. I dunno. I wanna... I’d wanna help people, too, y’know? Sick people?”
“A physician?”
“It has a fancy word, does it?” He chuckled. “Yeah. A physician. That’d be what I’d want.” He paused. “If I could.”
“Do you-?” Oliver started, then reconsidered his phrasing. “I mean, it’s all right, though, yeah? Working the land?”
Kyle smiled. “Yeah. It’s all right.” He ran his fingers through the dirt absently. “I’m proud of it.”
Oliver furrowed his brow in confusion. “But why? It’s not your land.” As soon as it was out of his mouth, he felt like a jerk. It had come out terribly wrong. It wasn’t what he was trying to say. “I just mean-”
“No, it’s okay,” Kyle said, tilting his head back and giving him a small, reassuring smile. “I understand. It’s just, well...” He bit his lip. “This sounds stupid.”
“What?”
“It’s not my land. But it’s gonna be your land. Someday. And I want it to be good land, the very best land.” His voice went quiet. “For you...”
Oliver’s mouth dropped open. He didn’t know what to say to that. He felt that warm feeling again in his chest, that slight dizziness in his head, like there was suddenly too much living in the world to do, too much for his body to handle at once.
So instead of saying anything, he brought his hand up and ruffled Kyle’s hair. Kyle laughed, then sat up, scooting back and swiveling so that he sat parallel to Oliver, facing him, one knee tucked up to his chest. Oliver’s hand fell away from his head. It brushed Kyle’s hand on the way down. Completely on accident. He was sure.
Kyle rested his chin on his knee and stared at Oliver. It was an intense sort of stare. Not hard, but thorough, like he was looking deep inside Oliver, looking even into the depths of his soul. An air of peace rested on Kyle’s shoulders, as if the simple practice of looking at Oliver brought him the serenest joy.
Oliver thought he should be embarrassed by such an inspection, but he wasn’t. He felt... he felt like smiling. So he did.
He studied Kyle’s face. His lips were stained red from the raspberries. Without thought, Oliver hooked a finger under Kyle's chin and raised his head. He ran his thumb lightly along Kyle’s lower lip.
“Your mouth is all red.”
Kyle bit down playfully on the thumb. “So is yours.”
Oliver felt himself leaning in, compelled by some unnamed force. There was a mad thumping in his chest, like horses stomping all through his veins. But there was a lightness there, too, as if his heart could pop right out of his body and float away on feathery-white wings.
Behind Kyle, a bird landed on an empty tree limb. Something about that seemed... off...
Oliver pulled back suddenly.
His heart-just a few seconds earlier as light as a seed on the wind-dropped into the pits of his stomach.
“The horse,” he croaked out.
“What?”
“Jinny.”
Kyle’s eyes went wide with fear. He turned his head in all directions, frantic. “What about her?”
Oliver’s throat threatened to close entirely.
“She’s-she’s gone.”
(...TBC...)
Chapter Five - The Hunt
Author's Name: rhombus_
Pairing: Kyle/Oliver
Rating: R
Warnings: AU setting; historical inaccuracies; cliches
Summary: Kish in the Old West. Yep. That about sums it up. AU (of course).
Disclaimer: Characters ≠ mine.
Previous parts:
Chapter One - The Vow
Chapter Two - Our Own Place
Chapter Three - The Lesson
Lay Me Down
Chapter Four - This Land Is Your Land
---
Lakeside Ranch, Montana Territory. 1878.
Oliver Fish, age 15.
---
“Where are you going?”
Oliver had one step out the front door, a book tucked under his arm, when his mother’s voice stopped him.
“Just for a walk.” He adjusted his hat over his head. “It’s such a lovely day out, I thought it would be nice to do some reading out of doors.”
“Oh?” Her eyes narrowed in on the book.
Oliver nodded, turning his gaze away from her. “Mm hmm.”
“Oliver?”
“Yes?” He turned back, reluctantly.
“Please... return before supper.”
He smiled. “I will.”
“And be safe.”
“I will.” She looked anxious, so he grabbed her small, gloved hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s just a walk, Ma. I’ll be fine.” Leaning in, he laid a kiss on her soft, warm cheek. “You don’t have to worry about me so much, you know.”
“I do. And I will. For as long as I live.” She placed lace-covered palms on his face, very gently, as if she were afraid he would break. It was a gesture that used to bring him comfort; now, it only made him feel small. He reached up and removed the hands.
“Okay,” he said, because he felt he had to say something.
She smiled, a sad smile, then turned back inside, her shoulders sloping at a deeper angle than usual. Salma met her in the hall. They exchanged quiet words. Salma’s eyes darted up to him, then quickly back down. He noticed again how gray and heavy she’d gotten; it had been such a gradual change as to sneak up on him sometimes. He thought, too, there was an air of bad spirits about her now that hadn’t been there before. Every glance was suspicious, every word hissed out like a threat. He’d looked up the word bruja-and he hated to admit how fitting it seemed now. A woman he had once loved like a mother, now somehow a peril to his happiness. It wasn’t right. He didn’t know what he could do to fix it. To make things like they were before. Sometimes he didn’t even know if he wanted to. Everything was all confused in his head.
To be a man, he had to forge his own way. To be loved, he had to do what he was told. He couldn’t seem to find a way to make the two fit together.
With a heavy sigh, he wandered out of the house. After a few yards, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned. Salma, some paces back, a wooden bucket in her hands. She kept her eyes down and ambled over to the water pump. Oliver kept going, looking back every few feet to keep an eye on her. On the third turn he caught her watching him like a red-tailed hawk watched the prairie dog.
It set a sudden coldness in his heart.
He pivoted, with as much nonchalance as he could muster, and turned back toward her, walked past her, circling around the south end of the main house, out of sight. It made his trek longer, but it was worth it to keep her off his trail. To keep her from reporting back to his mother with his every wrong move.
As he made his third left, a sliver of guilt passed through him. He didn’t like lying.
But-he wasn’t really lying. He was going for a walk. He was going to read. He just omitted the part in the middle where the walk led him to the field, the field led him to the stables, the stables led him to...
“Kyle,” he said, exhaling it on a breath. He closed the barn door behind him quietly.
Kyle looked up from his work, and his whole face smiled. Every inch of it. Oliver was transfixed by it.
“You ready to go?”
Oliver nodded eagerly and jogged for a saddle.
They had planned this day special. Neither had much leeway when it came to time to use at their choosing. Their lives were stuffed full with responsibility. Sneaking away at night for reading lessons or for short periods of the day to watch Kyle work with the horses was all Oliver could offer to the reforged friendship. Until Kyle proposed this getaway.
It had been a bit of work, rearranging his tutor schedule without raising any suspicions. He knew it had been harder for Kyle. With all the duties he was expected to perform around the ranch, and hardly a hand of help. Oliver had proposed, one day, to split Kyle’s workload among the two of them. Kyle simply smirked and cracked a joke about Oliver’s ‘delicate hands’ before uniformly refusing his offer.
That didn’t stop him from offering the next day, or the next. It had become the natural way to begin many of their conversations.
“Can I-?”
“Nope.”
Or, “Let me just-”
“I got it, Oliver.”
And then they moved on, smiling at the easy comfort of it all. At being in each other’s company, even in disagreement.
Kyle ushered two horses out of their stalls: the little gray one he called Jinny, and the large brown one, which didn’t seem to have a name. Oliver stepped toward the brown.
“Try again,” Kyle said.
“But you love Jinny!” Oliver whined.
“I also love my own precious life.” Kyle adjusted his saddle over the sturdy back of the big male. “And if you ended up with a broken skull under my watch, I’m sure as eggs is eggs your parents’d hang me for it.”
Oliver scowled at him, but it was all for show, really. He kind of liked that Kyle looked after him, even if he didn’t need looking after.
“Plus,” Kyle said with a wicked grin, “this way I can keep my two favorites in my sights at all times.”
A hot blush seized Oliver’s cheeks. He lowered his hat in a futile attempt to hide it. Kyle stepped over and bumped a playful fist against his shoulder.
“Aww, widdle Ollie. You’re so cute when you go all red-like.”
“Shut up.” He pushed Kyle away, with little real force. Kyle shot him that wicked grin again. It made Oliver’s heart pump a little faster in his chest. “We should-” He cleared his throat, tried again. “We should go.”
Kyle adjusted his own hat tighter over his head, then mounted his horse. Soon enough they were on the open range. Kyle was something of a noisy rider, always yelling something, even just an unintelligible grunt, but the horses seemed to understand, even if Oliver didn’t.
They gradually increased their speed. Oliver loved the feel of gusting air rippling through his shirts, the exhilaration of it hitting his face and sending a shiver along his cheeks. They rode and rode, accompanied by a symphony of noises: hooves springing off hard ground, deep breaths, whistling wind, Kyle’s whoops of joy. Up ahead, the mountains grew ever closer.
And then they saw it.
Oliver never failed to marvel at the impossible beauty of the geography. How the green-gray waves of the prairie gave way to the dark-forest lushness of the mountains. And stretching between them, glimmering like blue diamonds under the sun, lay the lake. Its gentle waters lapped against a rocky shoreline along the mountainside. A softer shore of silt and pebbles curved along the western rim, crowned by a tufting of short buckthorn trees-their leaves glossy and green, peppered with the late-spring bloom of yellow flowers-growing in the shade of a small pine forest. Along the eastern shore, long, pale grasses sprouted all the way down to the water’s edge, though thick trails were crushed flat into swirling beds under the hooves of thirsty foragers.
They rode west, then circled around the expansive lake on a northward bearing, up the sloping land toward the mountains. Horseshoes clopped over hard rock as they turned once more and made their way inward through a winding copse of shrubby, fragrant trees. Pine needles gave way to papery leaves, which in turn gave way to an open blue sky. They were in a small clearing; the lake sparkled in front of them, its far-most edge butting up against a tiered and dewy rock wall.
Cutting through the cracks of the mountain, a waterfall cascaded down craggy, mossy cliffs. A constant white mist danced atop the surface of the wide, deep pool at its base.
Kyle dismounted in front of him, leading his horse toward a shaded area of trees and soft land. Oliver meant to follow, but he was frozen by the sight of the place. He’d been here many times before, as a child, but he had somehow taken its beauty for granted. Now he could appreciate it better.
Now he could see it for what it really was: Paradise.
Atop his horse, he breathed in deep, and felt his body come alive with the vibrant, overflowing spirit of the land. It was easy to imagine he and Kyle had been granted entry to the garden of life.
He doubted even Victor Lord’s heirs had any tract of land to rival its beauty.
Shaking his head, he refocused, dismounted, and went about making Jinny as comfortable-but secure-as possible. Kyle’s horse was already settled, its nose at the water’s edge and a bag of oats within easy reach. Kyle himself stood bootless on the rocks overlooking the pool. Then he started undressing, pulling at the buttons on his neck as if they had caused him great offense.
Oliver kept his focus strictly on tying Jinny’s reins in a knot around a tree branch. He gaze certainly didn’t drift to Kyle... to bare marble shoulders... to the soft slope of his unclothed back... to his hair, sticking up in all directions after he tossed his hat to the side... to the indentation of his hips as he quickly dragged off his duckins and long johns...
No. Oliver was certain he had focused-double-focused, really-on the important task of tying his horse to the tree. He tested the knot as Kyle dove head-first into the lake. Which Oliver barely registered, of course. Because he had important knot-tying to attend to.
He found a patch of comfortable ground to make his seat, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and opened his book.
Only to have a bit of water splash against his hands and arms.
“Cut that out,” he said, not bothering to look up.
His only response was another splash, larger than the last. He sighed and lowered his book. “What?”
Kyle poked his head out of the water. “Come swim with me.”
“I’m reading.”
“You can do that later. Come swim with me.”
Oliver rolled his eyes and brought his book back up, effectively blocking Kyle out. Kyle splished away with a loud “Urmph!” of displeasure. Oliver felt bad. It was supposed to be a day spent together, away from their responsibilities, and he was hiding behind his studies. Guilt gripped his heart; but it released its hold when another splash hit him square in the face.
“Eek!” he yelled. Or maybe growled. In any case, it was definitely not a squeal. Which didn’t explain why Kyle thought it was the funniest thing in the entire world.
Oliver sighed. He couldn’t possibly stay mad at that face. Not when it lit up brighter than he’d ever seen before. Kyle didn’t laugh a lot, and when he did, it was always... held back. Like he wouldn’t allow himself to really feel it. But not now. Now he was smiling and spitting up water and practically twirling with glee. Oliver had never seem him so... childlike. Even when he’d been a child.
So he stuck his tongue out and scooted further away from the water’s edge. It was a dare. Try it again, Kyle, and see what happens. But Kyle didn’t take the bait. Instead, he dipped under the water, his cheeks full of sucked-in air.
Slightly disappointed, Oliver shrugged his shoulders and returned his attention to his book. He pulled a pencil out of his pack to mark an important passage in the text. It was only a few minutes later that he noticed he hadn’t marked the passage at all, but had drawn in the empty space under the chapter-ending text. There was the lake, the waterfall, the horses. The lone figure standing on the rocks. Nude.
He quickly flipped the page.
That’s when he realized something was wrong.
A strange sound. Or-the lack of sound. No splishes. No splashes. He looked out into the small pool. No Kyle. Had he swum beyond the rock reef, into the main body of the lake? Oliver shaded his eyes, squinting into the distance, but he couldn’t see any sign of him. Returning his gaze to the waterfall, something caught his eye.
In the calm center of the pool, a bubble of air rose to the surface and popped.
A sudden fear surged through him, stronger than any feeling he’d ever felt in his life. He thought his heart might explode in his chest. He was frozen by it. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. He could only think the same thought, over and over again: Kyle. Kyle under the water, possibly struggling for air.
And then time snapped back into place and he hopped off the ground, tugged off his boots, and dove into the water, fully-clothed.
Before he hit the water, Kyle’s head emerged. Oliver had just enough time to register the confusion in Kyle’s eyes before he painfully splatted against the surface. His entire body stung at the impact, but he pushed it aside, scrambled over to Kyle, grabbed his face and brushed droplets of water off of his skin.
“Oliver?”
“Are you okay?” he panted out.
Kyle plucked at his soaked shirt. “What’s going on?” He swung his head toward the shade trees. “Is it hornets? Fire ants?”
Oliver kept stroking his face. “I thought you were drowning!”
Kyle laughed. “What?”
“Drowning!” Oliver didn’t understand why Kyle didn’t understand. Hadn’t he been under the water, fighting for his life, just moments before?
Kyle shook his head, staring up at him with inquisitive eyes. “I was just trying to see if I could touch the bottom.”
“Oh,” Oliver breathed out. He realized Kyle’s hand was clutching at his wet cotton shoulder. He stared down at it. That’s when he noticed that his own arm-the one not keeping him afloat-had curled around Kyle’s back, holding him close. His skin felt warm and soft. “Oh,” he said again, releasing Kyle, who tilted his head as if studying him. Oliver felt ridiculous all over, treading water in his clothes, diving into pools to save people who didn’t need saving.
Kyle’s smile was gentle, though, and it helped soothe away his discomfort.
“I didn’t know you were paying such close attention, Oliver. I thought you were ignoring me.” He mock-pouted, but it turned into throaty laughter when Oliver revenged himself and splashed water right in Kyle’s face.
“I was trying to have a pleasant read in the shade. Dry was the preferable condition for it.”
“Well, now you’re all wet.”
“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed, Kyle.”
Kyle rolled his eyes at him, chuckling, then swam a little ways off.
“Hey, Kyle,” Oliver called out to him.
Kyle turned. “Yeah?”
“Warn me the next time you’re about to do something reckless or dangerous, okay?”
An exasperated smile played over Kyle’s lips. “Okay.”
“Or stupid!”
“Okay!” He was grinning like a fool now, though Oliver didn’t know why. “Now, get them wet clothes off and swim with me already!”
Oliver looked down at his drenched clothing. The way he figured, he had three options: sit in damp clothes, chafing and uncomfortable, while he read; let his clothes dry while he sat and waited, naked; or let his clothes dry while he swam a while with Kyle.
There was no choosing. It was so simple.
He pulled himself out of the water and, with his back to the pool, peeled off his sodden shirt. “Don’t look,” he called out before stripping off his britches. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t want to know if Kyle was looking or not. Either way it was embarrassing.
He laid his clothes out flat on a hot rock where they could sun-dry, then lowered himself slowly into the water. His stinging skin wouldn’t let him make the mistake of diving in again. Finally submerged, he turned and spotted Kyle, paddling toward the waterfall. Oliver followed him over.
“There’s a cave behind there,” Kyle said. His eyebrows seemed to raise in a challenge.
Oliver swallowed. “You wanna...?”
Kyle grinned at him. “It’s not so hard to get to. Don’t even have to go under. Just through.” Kyle demonstrated, waving an arm through the falling sheet of water to the empty space behind. “Come on!” he chirped, and then he disappeared into the mist, the water closing in behind him like a curtain. Oliver was more cautious. He poked a finger through. Finding no resistance, he sent in an exploratory arm. Then a shoulder. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and pushed in.
He opened his eyes to a dark, high cavern, its walls shimmering with dampness.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Kyle asked, his voice echoing slightly.
Oliver gulped, then nodded. “Yes. It is.” Sunlight reflected through the waterfall and cast the space in a greenish, phosphorescent glow. The backside of the waterfall glittered like falling diamonds. Oliver watched Kyle’s face as he stared at it with wide-eyed wonder. He couldn’t remember the last time Kyle looked so unwearied, so guileless, so free from worry and sorrow. It made him feel a little lightheaded. A little dizzy.
They really were in the garden of life, reborn as innocents. Eternal youth in the folds of paradise.
In the water, Kyle hooked a finger around Oliver’s.
Oliver didn’t pull away. The thought didn’t even cross his mind.
---
They lay in the shade after emerging from the lake, Kyle clad in his duckins, Oliver in nearly-dry trousers.
Oliver’s eyelids felt heavy, his head fuzzy and dull, and he drifted in and out of a peaceful sleep, the melody of birdsong and lapping water a chorus to dream by. He woke again when he felt movement beside him, and he watched with drowsy eyes as Kyle hopped over hot stones and disappeared behind the trees.
A few minutes later, he heard Kyle padding back toward him. He kept his eyes closed, concentrating on the sounds of birds, the rustle of leaves, the hypnotic splash of water against rock. It was the recipe for perfect repose. Until Kyle started slurping noisily on... something.
“Must you always be so... vulgar?” Oliver asked, grinning despite himself, his eyes still closed. Kyle only grunted at him in response, munching down louder.
Then something plush and fuzzy danced along Oliver’s lips. He angled his neck up and watched with pleasure as Kyle bounced a fat, red raspberry on his mouth. Smiling, he parted his lips, and Kyle pushed the fruit in with one finger. Its juices were bright and tangy and it made him feel young. Young and carefree and alive. Kyle reached over with another raspberry, and Oliver gladly popped his mouth open to be fed again.
He rested a hand behind his head and stared up at the sky through the trees, his other hand next to him on the ground, fingers splayed. Kyle lay on his bare stomach contemplating the dirt. After a few minutes, he turned on his side and faced Oliver. He began hopping his fingers through the empty spaces between Oliver’s, as if the ground were an instrument and Oliver’s fingers the note-demarcations. He had a faraway look on his face, as if he weren’t really there, as if he were thinking about something else, as if he didn’t even realize what he was doing in the here-and-now. It made Oliver smile. A warm feeling flowed through him. When Kyle finally came back to reality and noticed Oliver smiling at him, he smiled back, his eyes dancing with mischief.
With that impish grin and slim, contoured chest, he looked to Oliver like some sort of faerie prince, come alive from the pages of a storybook.
“What?” Oliver asked.
Kyle squinched up his face. “The ground’s all hard right here.”
“Then move.”
Kyle rolled over, sat up, and investigated his surroundings. Then he swiveled around, his back to Oliver, and lowered his head onto Oliver’s bare stomach, using it as a cushion.
“Ah. That’s better.”
His hair was still damp and a little cold; it sent a shiver through Oliver’s skin. But he found he didn’t mind so much.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Relaxing.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” Kyle said. “You’re all soft and squishy and comfy.”
Oliver tried to be offended. He truly did. But it was impossible. Not where they were. Not in their little oasis.
He closed his eyes, content to nap some more, when Kyle’s voice brought him back.
“You ever think about the future?”
Oliver opened an eye. “Pretty much all the time.”
He expected Kyle to say more, but he didn’t.
“What about you?”
“Oh, you know,” Kyle said. “Sure. But there isn’t really a point to it. Not for me, anyway.” His voice had gone low and hoarse, as if there were dirt in his throat. “I mean, I’m gonna be doing ten years from now what I’m doing now, and ten years after that, too.”
Oliver bit his lip. Then he smiled. “Using my belly as a pillow? Twenty long years from now? That’s a bold prediction, Kyle.”
That earned him a laugh.
“What would you do,” Kyle said softly, “if you could? If there was nothing stopping you?”
“You mean instead of ranching?”
“Yeah. Instead of ranching.”
Oliver sucked on his lower lip and imagined his future self, as he often did. He allowed himself a moment to strip away the constraints. The expectations. The realities of his world.
“More than anything?” He sucked in a deep breath. “I wanted to be a lawman, you know. Like-like a sheriff. Or a marshall. Protect people.” Be strong.
“I remember,” Kyle said. “You never would let me be sheriff. Not that it mattered to me, a’course.”
Oliver swallowed. “I don’t know if you know this, but my pa was a Texas Ranger. Until the yanks came in and took over, that is. That’s when he moved up here. There was a cattle drive, and he volunteered, and I guess it stuck. He even learned to like the Mexicans. He bought land, married my ma, and the rest... the rest you know.”
Kyle angled his head up to look at him. “You should do it.”
“Do what?”
“Be what you want.”
Oliver thought about disputing it. He decided to divert instead.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What would you do, if you could?”
Kyle stared down, picking at a fallen leaf on the ground. “There’s no point in saying.”
Oliver laughed. “You made me.”
There was a pause. And then, “You remember when Jinny took up ill?”
Oliver squinted. He couldn’t recall...
“The horse,” Kyle said, as if Oliver needed clarification. “Well, she wasn’t doing so good, and Hector wanted to put her down. This was before he was blind as a bat and worked with the horses still. Anyway, Hector was all ready to shoot her dead. But your pa, he was soft on her. Who wouldn’t be? He came in and said, ‘No. Let’s fix her up.’ So he called in the farrier, and it took a while, a lot of cuts and salves and medicines, but that farrier did it. He fixed her up. Not good as new, but good as good.”
“I had no idea.” It must have been when he was away from all that. “So that’s what you want to be? A farrier?” That seemed quite doable for someone in Kyle’s situation.
Kyle pinched his lips together. “Maybe. I dunno. I wanna... I’d wanna help people, too, y’know? Sick people?”
“A physician?”
“It has a fancy word, does it?” He chuckled. “Yeah. A physician. That’d be what I’d want.” He paused. “If I could.”
“Do you-?” Oliver started, then reconsidered his phrasing. “I mean, it’s all right, though, yeah? Working the land?”
Kyle smiled. “Yeah. It’s all right.” He ran his fingers through the dirt absently. “I’m proud of it.”
Oliver furrowed his brow in confusion. “But why? It’s not your land.” As soon as it was out of his mouth, he felt like a jerk. It had come out terribly wrong. It wasn’t what he was trying to say. “I just mean-”
“No, it’s okay,” Kyle said, tilting his head back and giving him a small, reassuring smile. “I understand. It’s just, well...” He bit his lip. “This sounds stupid.”
“What?”
“It’s not my land. But it’s gonna be your land. Someday. And I want it to be good land, the very best land.” His voice went quiet. “For you...”
Oliver’s mouth dropped open. He didn’t know what to say to that. He felt that warm feeling again in his chest, that slight dizziness in his head, like there was suddenly too much living in the world to do, too much for his body to handle at once.
So instead of saying anything, he brought his hand up and ruffled Kyle’s hair. Kyle laughed, then sat up, scooting back and swiveling so that he sat parallel to Oliver, facing him, one knee tucked up to his chest. Oliver’s hand fell away from his head. It brushed Kyle’s hand on the way down. Completely on accident. He was sure.
Kyle rested his chin on his knee and stared at Oliver. It was an intense sort of stare. Not hard, but thorough, like he was looking deep inside Oliver, looking even into the depths of his soul. An air of peace rested on Kyle’s shoulders, as if the simple practice of looking at Oliver brought him the serenest joy.
Oliver thought he should be embarrassed by such an inspection, but he wasn’t. He felt... he felt like smiling. So he did.
He studied Kyle’s face. His lips were stained red from the raspberries. Without thought, Oliver hooked a finger under Kyle's chin and raised his head. He ran his thumb lightly along Kyle’s lower lip.
“Your mouth is all red.”
Kyle bit down playfully on the thumb. “So is yours.”
Oliver felt himself leaning in, compelled by some unnamed force. There was a mad thumping in his chest, like horses stomping all through his veins. But there was a lightness there, too, as if his heart could pop right out of his body and float away on feathery-white wings.
Behind Kyle, a bird landed on an empty tree limb. Something about that seemed... off...
Oliver pulled back suddenly.
His heart-just a few seconds earlier as light as a seed on the wind-dropped into the pits of his stomach.
“The horse,” he croaked out.
“What?”
“Jinny.”
Kyle’s eyes went wide with fear. He turned his head in all directions, frantic. “What about her?”
Oliver’s throat threatened to close entirely.
“She’s-she’s gone.”
(...TBC...)
Chapter Five - The Hunt