Wild Horses (8 page)

“But I was a few weeks behind on the rent to my roommate… who happened to be my ex-boyfriend… anyway, I don’t wanna talk about that part. Just, I left and slept on the streets to avoid some bad shit, and when I turned up with the money I saved by unloading trucks for just a twenty or so off the books, everything was gone. Just gone.”

“He took it?”

“No. The place burned down. It was an accident, they said. But my guitar an’ all… all gone. Along with my wallet and my envelope.”

“Your envelope?”

“Yeah. My papers. Graduation diploma, transcript, birth certificate, driver’s license stuff, addresses for my family back in Tennessee—everything.” A guilty look appeared on Kai’s face. “That’s why I couldn’t get a job, you see? They want you to have papers. And I never bothered with a bank account ’cause I never made enough money to really need one, so….” Big hands slapped the wooden picnic table as Kai straightened up and looked far away, toward the pond. “That’s why I stole. I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

“Kai.” Attila’s voice was commanding and the younger man nodded, still not meeting eyes. “Kai, that’s all water under the bridge. There is a way to get your papers back. We’ll work on that together, alright? You’ll need to fill out some forms, but I will help you. My lawyer will help you if it becomes necessary.”

“I can’t afford a lawyer.” Kai gave a resigned sigh and let his eyes drift away, as though the flat statement summarized Kai’s existence.

“He’s on retainer for the stables. He handles random stuff like this occasionally. Question is, what do you want to do next?”

Kai exhaled. “I don’t really know,” he said after some time. “Thinking ahead had been a bit of luxury when I was on the street. Y’know, ‘food-shelter-safety’? That sort of overruled everything else for a long time.”

Kai’s perspective was startling for Attila, whose basic needs were always met in the past and who had no reason to doubt that they would be met in the future. “Just try to think about it,” he cajoled Kai. “Dream for a bit. What should your next step be?”

Kai blinked his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess… I guess I need to learn to tack up so May doesn’t need to do everything herself. She doesn’t have enough time to teach me, actually. And I can’t ask Hal.”

Attila nodded, ignoring the fact that Kai did not reveal any long-term goals. “Let me get that book for you. I want you to start reading it and making notes. If you have a question, write it down. Then we’ll go over it, and I’ll show you how I do things. Say, tomorrow after feeding?”

Kai saw Attila suppress a yawn. “You’re tired already?”

“You shall be tired as well,” Attila pronounced, wiping his almost-dry, raven hair out of his eyes. “The horses eat at six in the morning. We need to get up at five thirty. Once we feed them, then we come back for our own breakfast.”

“That’s early,” Kai said. “And obviously they eat even on the weekends.”

“Year-round, too.”

“That’s a lot of work.” Kai’s simple words did not fail to betray a bit of excitement at the prospect of a lot of work—obviously, work must have meant a measure of security. This fact was not lost on Attila, who chose not to say anything. His mind drifted back to the way the thin, silk boxers had clung to Kai’s smooth skin as he got out of the pool, and to the revelation that Kai used to have a boyfriend. Getting attached was no good, certainly…. An aimless drifter was a heartbreak waiting to happen. Still, he had not turned his eyes away from the younger man’s bare torso. The rust-colored braid was heavy with water, hanging over Kai’s tan shoulder, hiding parts of his Celtic tattoo. Attila almost hoped for Kai to meet his eyes and get at least a hint of whether the interest was mutual, but as things stood, Kai stared down onto his empty plate again and the moment passed.

“Here, let me take those dishes in.”

Kai’s voice disrupted Attila’s daydreaming, and he let Kai stack his plate on top of his own. The talk of documents and papers and identification seemed to have made his newest helper nervous. Attila observed the way Kai immersed himself in the simple task of kitchen cleanup, while his body language spoke of a desire to flee and be left alone, undisturbed. When he thought of the lack of privacy that would come with living with his boss, Attila shuddered in sympathy and cleared out of the room.

K
AI
sighed with relief when he put the last of the dried dishes away and wiped down the counters. A moment later, Attila floated into the kitchen in that silent way of his, giving the illusion of his bare feet not even touching the floor. He looked toward a cabinet Kai had not seen open before. After brief consideration, he pulled out two wine glasses and a dark bottle with a simple, white label.

“There is a selection of books for you on the coffee table. Will you join me for a glass of wine while we go through them?” Attila said. He looked pleased, and his voice dropped to a satisfied purr.

“Join you?” Kai’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sure. I mean, I’d be happy to.”

“Very well, then.” Attila pulled a bottle opener out of the utility drawer and removed the cork with familiar precision. He splashed a bit into a glass and tasted it. “It’s okay.” Seeing Kai’s raised eyebrow, he elaborated. “Just checking.” He poured each glass half full and gave one to Kai, raising his own in a toast. “To health, and to new beginnings.”

Kai nodded, letting Attila touch their glasses with a soft clink. They both sipped, Kai copying the actions of the older man. He had never participated in a formal toast before. “This is nice. Just like in a movie,” Kai quipped.

“Hmm?”

“Well, toasts like that. When I was growing up, my dad would drink beer straight from the can and my mom didn’t drink at all, so I never saw people do this before. And my uncles tended to drink bourbon or moonshine, and we’d sneak the stuff as kids, but there was no toasting there, just passing a bottle.”

“Really? How old were you?”

“Oh, thirteen or so. It was all free, since my uncles had a still up in the hills. My stepfather drank a lot of that shit later on….” Kai slid his gaze toward the window again as an old memory clamored for his attention.

“If you would prefer whiskey to wine, I have some, Kai.”

“Nah. Can’t stand the stuff.” Kai forced a smile. “I’ll try wine. To new beginnings, right?”

“Right.”

A
N
HOUR
later, they sat in the living room in companionable silence. As only the turning of the pages broke the stillness of the house, curiosity began gnawing at Attila regarding the words unsaid, the feelings suppressed—yet he held his peace. It was too soon to find out all he wanted to know. It had been only a week. Then again, one week can feel like eternity, Attila reflected as he noted the comfortable way in which Kai had sprawled along the larger sofa, feet up, accommodating his tall frame and legs that seemed to go on forever. One week ago, Attila would not have believed that curling up on the loveseat was in fact rather comfortable, providing him with not only a suitable nest but also a private vantage point from which he could observe the redhead. They shared the same reading lamp, heads almost together on the nearby padded armrests as they browsed through their books and horse magazines, occasionally reaching out for a sip of the red, inexpensive blend Attila liked to keep on hand as his “Tuesday night wine.” Nice, but not so nice that he felt guilty for leaving half the bottle and cooking with it the next day. He made virtually no progress on his Kate Martinelli mystery; instead, he unfolded his body and, once he was sitting upright, he crossed his legs under him so as to better observe the virtual stranger who now shared his space.

Kai Alewright. Twenty-four years old, tall and handsome, lacking both official employment and identification. He’d have to call Tibor in the morning and see if his law firm could point them in the right direction. It was useful, having a lawyer in the family. Kai was musical and he liked to read, attended a vo-tech high school but never had the opportunity to advance further. Something had happened there, something having to do with his history and his family that had compelled him to move away from a small town in the foothills of Tennessee all the way up to Pittsburgh. It was almost as though Kai tried to escape Appalachia but was unwilling to leave it behind entirely, keeping it just within arm’s reach. Now that he was well dressed and well fed and he knew his luck would hold until Hal was all healed up, maybe up to two more months, the dullness began to leave his eyes and his shoulders began to straighten just a little.

They meshed well. Attila seldom tolerated others in his personal space, but now he wondered what life might be like if Kai stayed through the winter. Right now, there was a sense of connection between them that he had never experienced before and could not explain, and Attila itched to know whether the feeling was one-sided. Lying down on a sofa after a hard day’s work and reading together had a sense of rightness about it. Kai was relaxed enough to reach for his wineglass without looking as he studied an anatomical drawing of a horse. Suddenly moved to mischief, Attila reached his hand out as well, as though he was searching for his own glass, but making sure their hands would brush against one another in midair.

Kai’s hand jerked, almost spilling his wine. “I am sorry!” Kai’s handsome face flushed immediately as he withdrew his arm, still holding the glass by the stem.

“Don’t be,” Attila hummed, reaching for his own. “No big deal.” He shouldn’t have done it, and he’d make sure to keep the lid on his attraction from now on. He had an inkling that if he pursued the young man in too obvious a way, he’d chase him off, right back onto the streets whence he came. Much like trying to chase a wild horse in a paddock, his strategy better revolve around walking away and arousing Kai’s curiosity, rather than engaging in a hotheaded pursuit of his own. It crossed his mind that he liked Kai way too much to let him disappear into the streets again. For Kai’s sake, he’d keep his hands to himself.

K
AI
groaned. It was too early to be up, let alone working at the stables. He and Attila opened both doors, letting a breeze come through the barn. The horses were awake already, shifting about, some of them poking their noses through the metal bars that comprised the top of the wooden stall partitions and sliding gates.

Kai was pushing a cart of plastic pitchers down the center walkway, focused on matching the names on the pitchers with the horses’ names on the stall doors. There was an opening over each feed bucket, so he didn’t have to open the door and push his way past an eager horse to feed the animal. Even so, dosing the right amount of the right feed into each horse’s pitcher was just one of many necessary tasks on their daily to-do list. Attila had already filled the baskets with fresh hay. Had May not measured out the grain for the horses the night before, the whole process would have taken another half hour, at the very least.

“Just feed these last two guys, and we’re done. Our own breakfast is waiting!”

Attila’s words were music to Kai’s ears. When they emerged from the barn at six, the sun was still low in the sky but getting brighter, promising a scorcher of a day.

“Take the first shower, and I want you to rinse off with cold water at the end. That’ll wake you up.” Attila seemed to be unbearably alert.

“Uh-huh,” Kai responded, not yet able to string a sentence together.

Attila gave him an impatient look. “If you wish to be other than catatonic in the morning, I will have to make the coffee extra strong.”

Kai showered fast, then made his bed and dressed in riding pants as Attila was rinsing off. After a brief breakfast of coffee, danish, and oranges, Attila suggested they squeeze in a quick riding lesson.

“Eat the hair of the dog that bit you,” Attila had said when Kai complained of extreme soreness. “Ride for a bit and get the blood flowing in all those parts again. I promise it will help.”

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it.” Kai was now able to produce a whole sentence. He observed the rhythm of Attila’s day, doing his best to adapt. If Attila was doing it, then Kai would attempt to help, or at least observe so that he could take his turn next time. Presently, the horses were busy eating and digesting. Their humans used this opportunity to put up a load of laundry, straighten up the house, and pull a dinner from the freezer so it could thaw during the day. By the time they made it back to the barn, it was slightly after nine and the sun promised to bear down by eleven, although now it only warmed their shoulders with gentle insistence.

Attila turned to him. “You’ll ride my horse today. He’s very well trained and well behaved. Your job will be to feel your balance as you sit him, feel the way he shifts under you, and do as I say. He shall respond to my verbal commands, not to yours. All right?” Attila drew his brows together in concern.

“Yeah, whatever you say, Attila… I’ll do my best. Still…,” Kai said, stumbling over his words. “I can’t believe you’d let me ride your horse. Wow… thank you.”

“You’ll ride Sen today because I trust him. Here, help me saddle him. Next time you saddle Dusty, you’ll do it all by yourself.”