Page 48 of His Country
Tugged his hat down low and put one boot in front of the other. If he ignored the knot in his chest, the gaping chasm in his stomach, and the shaking of his hands he would be fine. Aiden could disappear into the grey of winter, hide in his chores.
He was fine. He was always fine.
Sugar dashed out the open door, plunging into the first snow drift she saw. Body wriggling, she buried herself until snow dripped from her coat and clung to her quivering whispers. Her happy whines followed him as he opened the barn to begin loading up the UTV with feed. Aiden had even agreed to feed the goats in Isaac’s absence. He considered it his good deed. ‘Tis the season and all.
The lights were on in the big house. Shadows moved across the windows, smoke coiling from the fireplace. Frank might make an appearance later, but Aiden preferred when he didn’t. Winter was the slow season and there was a reason he paid people to do the chores. Frank focused on buying and selling, maintaining finances. All the office work Aiden couldn’t stand.
Aiden spent the better part of the morning feeding all the animals. He spent extra time putting eyes on all the horses and checking the cows and calves. They didn’t seem to mind the cold, chewing their hay while their breath plumed in front of wet noses.
By early afternoon the sun had come out and the snow was beginning to melt. He’d shed his outer coat, hanging it on one of the stalls so he could work on the tractor. He’d noticed the turning was a little sticky only to find a small crack in the transmission.
“Fucking Isaac,” he swore as he pulled his gloves off with his teeth. Dumbass must have run over something when he was building a corral for the goats.
Despite the nuisance, he was grateful to have something more stimulating than daily chores to keep his mind occupied for the remainder of the afternoon. Sugar slept off her morning shenanigans curled up in a sunbeam while Aiden stomped around the tractor, muttering threats to Isaac’s person. Everything from stubbed toes to war crimes.
Sweat prickled his brow as he scooted under the tractor, hands covered in grease and hydraulic fluid. He really should weld it, but he didn’t have the equipment. Frank might have to send it off. That would be a real issue with the weather. With all the snow and mud, they really needed the tractor.
Sugar’s snores tapered off, leaving the barn oddly silent. Aiden huffed. “What’s the matter? See a mouse?” he teased as he knocked his hat back, wiping his forehead with the back of his wrist.
He waited to hear her skittering across the floor after some furry quarry, but all was quiet. Shifting his hips, he tried to see if he could get away with not grinding the metal down and possibly putting a temporary patch on the crack.
“Aiden.”
His name echoed like a gunshot. Dripped from lips he didn’t need to see to picture. It was harsh, harder than the last time he’d said it. Then, the syllables had been rounded with relief. Softened with question. Now they were hard edged. Dropped with purpose.
The sweat on his skin froze. He shivered as it rolled down his back. Aiden stared up at the crack framed by his fingers. He was trapped. The only way out from under the tractor was right beside Billy, and Aiden suspected he wasn’t going to leave. His sneakers were planted, toes wet from the melting snow. Mud congealed in their treads.
Black spots danced in his vision, and he realized he wasn’t breathing. He wanted to claw at his throat. Bury his hands in his shirt. But he couldn’t. They were covered in green grease and sticky hydraulic fluid.
“I know you can hear me.”
He almost laughed.
Swallowing thickly, he gripped the undercarriage and slid out from under the tractor. Head down, he blocked Billy with the brim of his hat. Maybe if he didn’t see him?—
Billy sighed andoh.He remembered that sigh. It was the same noise he made when Aiden said he didn’t mind quitting the football team. Or when he said he wasn’t going to the dance.
He didn’t miss it. That disappointing exhale brought nothing but memories fuzzy with time but drenched in feelings. Ones he’d rather have stayed in Texas. Maybe if he wasn’t trapped in the barn with grease on his fingers, he’d find it funny that Everett’s memories were wrapped in a soft sort of nostalgia, but Billy’s only brought pain. The kind that didn’t bleed.
Billy had always seen him. In ways Everett never did. There was something in those shrewd blue eyes. An awareness that cut through him like a knife. He could never lie to Billy.
And he couldn’t tell him the truth.
Tilting his head back, he let his hat lift enough to so he could see him. Billy was wearing a light sweater and jeans. Not nearly enough for the weather, and his skin was pale. He never did like the cold. Not enough meat on him.
He wasseeingAiden, and it was so, so close that every muscle in Aiden’s legs twitched with the need to run. His heart was thundering, hands clenching on the ground beside him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Billy wasn’t supposed to be here. Why was he here?
“Well? Aren’t you going to say something?” Billy asked, his eye lashes fluttering like he was fighting back tears.
Aiden shrugged. “Don’t have anything to say.”
He stepped back like Aiden had swung at him. “No,” he spat around lips twisted in a snarl. “Guess you wouldn’t. You never do. Just up and leave without a word.”
Aiden wished he’d hit him. That he could deal with. A good pop to the nose would be fine. But this? Looking at him like he’d…like he’d broken his heart. That was too much.
Billy had no right to be heart broken. Aiden hadn’t taken anything from him. Billy had Everett and his future. Everything he could ever want, and now he was looking down at Aiden like he’d done something terrible. When all he’d done was make sure they never had to know the toll their happiness took on him.
They had everything and Aiden had nothing.