Page 26 of His Country

Aiden didnottell him he was nearly 10 and twice the goat’s weight when they owned it.

Even though Ethan didn’t need anything at the hardware store, he surprised Aiden by getting out with him.

The familiar brass bell jingled as they pushed through the cloudy glass doors. Probably one of the oldest buildings in town, it smelled like a confusing mixture of lumber, turpentine, and metal shavings. Aiden found the smell comforting. It reminded him of every other independently owned hardware store he’d walked into.

He didn’t bother looking at the signs hanging above the aisles—they weren’t right anyway. He knew where everything was, and it didn’t take him long to collect everything he needed. Wordlessly, Ethan took some of boxes of screws out of his hands to hold for him. He even stopped to comment on the price increase of double ended snaps.

They checked out on Frank’s tab. The clerk glanced at Aiden with a small nod, not bothering with small talk and ignoring the bits of hay and shavings clinging to his jacket. They weren’t unusual accessories this close to so many ranches.

The Rolling J was located in the Powder River area, a couple hours Southeast of Billings. It wasn’t as rural as some of the other ranches Aiden worked, but it was close. They didn’t have much in the way of shopping, but they had all the necessities. Couple of good restaurants, a bowling alley. They even had a movie theater. It had been years since Aiden had been to a theater.

Everything was located off a main road that ran through town—he could never remember what it was called—so it wasn’tdifficult to get to the grocery. They parked just as dusk was falling. He wasn’t sure if Ethan was going to follow him in until he slipped out of the truck just behind him.

He almost asked why he was coming in. Almost snapped that he didn’t need him, but he held back. Ethan wasn’t stupid—he could stay in the truck. There were no laws about leaving your veterinarian in the car. Ethan was coming in because he wanted to, and that was enough for Aiden.

They didn’t have any poignant conversation while Aiden shopped. Ethan would point out brands or ask if Aiden had tried a certain flavor. Ethan was a bit of a caffeine expert, and a definite coffee snob. Aiden mocked him for having some fancy brand of coffee shipped to him. They argued over cereal but agreed that green grapes were better than purple.

Aiden had never considered grocery shopping to be anything other than a chore. He didn’t think it could be qualified as something fun or not. It was just something you had to do. But with Ethan, he found himself smiling. He even discovered he had some pretty strong opinions on which box of mac n cheese was worth buying and that generic cola tasted the same as name brand.

They were loading up the groceries when Ethan leaned against the truck and jerked his head toward the road. “Want to get a drink?”

Aiden dropped the last bag and followed his line of sight. Mike’s Bar was a squat red brick building tucked off an ill-used access road. The small lot was usually claustrophobic with big trucks, barely enough room between them to get to the battered metal door under a single light.

It was a fine establishment for what it was. Aiden had been in a couple times. Serving the standard fare, it catered to clientele who preferred quantity over quality. Passable beer served with freezer burn that masqueraded as food, the patrons of Mike’sknew exactly what they were getting when they stepped through the door and there were rarely any complaints.

“Why?” Aiden asked, trying not to read too much into the suggestion.

“Because it’s fun. You do know what fun is, right?”

“Bite me.”

“Buy me a drink first, farm boy,” he teased with a wink. “C’mon. It’s cold enough the groceries won’t spoil, and Frank is already half a cup into his Sleepy Time Tea.”

Aiden glanced over at the bar. What would he do if he went home? Take Sugar out and go to bed? Listen to Isaac as he complained at the TV?

Or he could have a drink with Ethan, the guy he’d been having a decent time with. And it wasn’t as if getting a drink with a friend was weird or suspicious. No one would think twice if they saw two guys enjoying a brewksi after a hard day at work. More than that, Ethan had invited him. Even knowing what he did, he still wanted to spend time with him.

Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket, he hip checked the truck door closed. “All right. One drink.”

Ethan grinned as he slung an arm around Aiden’s neck, dragging him close so they could amble across the street. Aiden flushed, ducking his head into his jacket to hide his face. Ethan felt warm pressed up against him like that. It wasn’t exactly news that he was taller than Aiden but next to him like this, it was obvious. He felt small, and not in the way he was used to. Small like he was curled up in a big bed, with heavy blankets draped over him. Safe. Secure.

Even though it was awkward, Ethan made no move to move away from Aiden. He kept a hold of him as they walked toward the bar. His body heat diffused through their clothes, to Aiden it felt scalding. When was the last time he was this close to somebody? He couldn’t remember, but to be fair, it wasn’t hisbrain that was directing most of his attention. Ethan’s body was distracting—the shift of his hips as he walked in step with him, the curl of his arm as it draped over his shoulders as easily as a lazy cat on a window. He could even smell him. Not the sharp bite of disinfectant, or the overpowering scent of cigarettes, no this was something far more subtle. It was Ethan. Indefinable, but definite. It registered in the primal part of his brain, screaming of an intimacy that sent shivers down his spine.

Heart thudding in his chest, approached the bar. Ethan finally released Aiden to open the door. The moment they stepped inside the bar they were slammed with an oppressive cloud of nicotine and alcohol. A haze of smoke lingered just below the ceiling; obscuring walls yellowed with time. Muted country music thrummed through speakers, low enough to just barely be heard over the clink of pool balls and the thump of a glass hitting a table with a little too much passion.

Mikes was predominantly lit by neon beer signs. It took Aiden’s eyes a moment to adjust as he took in the bar. To the right was the large glossy bar, complete with a cracked mirror on the wall across from it. In the back two pool tables and a couple of beeping arcade games were snugged up against a jukebox that looked like it had been cobbled together with tape.

“Grab a table,” Ethan said as he stepped around Aiden, making his way to the bar.

A few of the tables were occupied but Aiden found a small one by the wall. Shrugging off his jacket, he dropped into the seat and forced himself to try and relax. This is what he wanted. Sort of. He hadn’t quite defined it but surely hanging out with Ethan was a good step toward being able to look himself in the mirror.

He was scraping at a bit of gunk stuck to the top of the circular table when Ethan returned with two beers and a basket of onion rings. They smelled pretty good.

Taking a sip from his beer, he licked the foam from his top lip as he examined the red plastic basket. “What? No ranch?”

Ethan was mid-sip. “I brought ketchup. Who puts ranch on onion rings?”

That had Aiden scowling. “Ranch is good on everything.”