Love, Like Water (30 page)

“He won’t be asking about me anymore.” Josh felt a sort of sick satisfaction at that thought.

“What’s gonna happen when he comes home next week?” Tucker asked.

Joshua shrugged, though he didn’t feel the least bit careless. “Up to you. If you want, I can be gone before then.”

“Gone where? Christ, Joshua, this is your
home
.”

“It was his home first. You ask him what he wants, and I’ll abide by it.” Joshua put down the pencil. “If he doesn’t mind, I’ll stay at least until he’s settled. I’ll just keep out of his way as much as possible. I already suggested he take over the bookwork while he’s recovering. I suppose he can put up with me long enough for me to train him. But I warn you, he’s not interested in doing it full time. You’ll probably need to hire at least a part-time bookkeeper….”

“Jesus, Josh. What the hell is going on with you? Where do you think you’re going?”

“The Bureau office here has asked me to transfer to Albuquerque permanently. Apparently, they were telling the truth about my resignation—Bill Robinson put me down as being on medical leave and didn’t forward my letter of resignation to headquarters. So I’m still technically an agent.”

“You said you didn’t want to go back.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

Because I’m dangerous and unreliable,
Joshua thought in despair.
Because I put my lover in a life-threatening situation and couldn’t even protect him against a gang of thugs. Because I’m a failure all around at being a civilian.
But he didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything. Not even the fact that because of his addiction, he’d be pretty much relegated to Analyst until he’d finished years of counseling. He’d only be trading the office here for one in the city, but at least in the city office, there wouldn’t be the sights and sounds and smells of the desert to haunt him. At least in the city office, he wouldn’t have to see his lover suffering and in pain, frustrated at his inability to do the things he loved. At least in the city, maybe he could forget the
guilt.

Guilt. He should be used to it by now.

He didn’t say any of that. Instead, he said, “They’ve made me a very good offer.” When Tucker didn’t answer, he looked up and met his eyes. In place of the anger or frustration he thought he’d see there, he saw speculation. Tucker’s voice, when he spoke, was thoughtful.

“I see. A good offer. Yeah, I see that. When do you start?”

“I don’t know yet. They’re still hammering out the details.”

Tucker nodded and bent to plug in the computer again. Joshua said, “You know, you can really wreck a computer by doing that.”

“I know.” Tucker gave him a smug smile. “It was just the monitor.” Then he got up and sauntered out of the office.

Joshua watched him go, then turned the monitor back on. Staring at the spreadsheet that was still active, he rested his chin on his hand. What was his uncle up to? And did it matter anyway? He wasn’t sure if he should be nervous or not.

He shook his head. That was stupid. Of course he didn’t need to be nervous. What could Tucker do, anyway? Joshua had been very careful to destroy any illusions Eli might have had about them or their relationship. It had hurt—
God, it had hurt
—but it had been necessary. For Eli’s safety, and Joshua’s sanity.

Watching Eli in the hospital had nearly driven Joshua crazy. Even after they’d brought Eli out of the coma, he’d sat there patiently waiting for the moments when he’d been awake. And in those moments he could read in Eli’s eyes the pain he was going through, so that when he did drift off again into drugged sleep, it was almost more of a relief.

And when Joshua himself did sleep, it was to dream that dream again, only this time, it was Eli sprawled on the oil-stained floor.

He supposed it made him a coward, but he couldn’t bear watching Eli in pain. Between that, and the guilt, and the realization that he was not in any way, shape, or form good enough for a relationship with
anyone
, it had been easy to make the decisions he needed to make. Easy to go to the Bureau and agree to their proposal. Easy to make plans to move on. Easy to start looking for an apartment or house where he could live once he walked away from the ranch. Like he’d walked away from his career all those months ago.

Though it looked like his career wasn’t satisfied with him leaving it. Too bad Eli wouldn’t feel the same way. Not that he wanted him to.

Joshua shut down the computer and left the office. The kitchen was empty, but the big thermos on the counter still had coffee in it, so he poured himself a cup. There were cookies in the glass jar, but he didn’t have much of an appetite for snacks these days, though he ate well enough at meals. He wondered where Sarafina was, then realized that this was her day to take lunch to Eli. She was convinced that no one could possibly eat institutional food and thrive.

There was a calendar hanging on one of the cabinets; he wandered over and looked at it. Eli’s return date was marked for next Tuesday. Tuesday. Good—he could use the excuse of his shrink appointment to not be home when Eli arrived. He supposed he couldn’t avoid him forever. Shit. He didn’t
want
to avoid him at all. He wanted to go over to that little cottage of his and find his way back into Eli’s bed. But he couldn’t. That was over. Done. Eli could find someone else to share his bed. Maybe one of the new trainees who were due in a few weeks would be another gay guy, older than the spoiled little Spencer who was here currently, and who
wouldn’t
stop trying to put the make on Joshua. He supposed it wouldn’t matter if he did sleep with Spencer. It wasn’t as if he’d be cheating on Eli.

But he didn’t. Because if he did, he would
feel
as if he were cheating on Eli.

Because it didn’t matter that Eli couldn’t love him anymore. He loved Eli. Would love him until he died.

And that was the real reason he couldn’t stay.

Chapter 27

“A
RE
you ready, honey?”

Eli looked up at his mother and smiled. “Ready as I get, I reckon.”

She smiled and held his hand as the orderlies rolled up the wheelchair, more for herself than him, he expected. He would be walking out of the rehab facility under his own power, but for liability purposes had to ride to the door in the chair. He was walking pretty good, even if he had to use a cane. But she was worried about him, which was kind of nice. She’d talked to him a lot during the last few weeks, telling him about when he was still a kid and his dad had died, and how she hadn’t wanted him to drop out of high school but didn’t know what else to do. And how worried she’d been while he was on the rodeo circuit, and how glad when he got the job with Tucker Chastain. She was going to be staying another week or so until he got settled in at the Triple C. Her new husband Doug had made a few flying visits here over the last month or so, but Eli figured he’d be happier to have her home.

He was looking forward to being home himself—home in his own little cottage, home on the ranch with his horses and his friends and the familiar sights and sounds. And Joshua. He needed to figure out what was going on with Joshua. Even considering the way they had parted, he still missed him. Still needed him.

When he’d asked Tucker and Sarafina about him, Tucker had only shook his head and said, “Fool kid.” Sarafina had gotten uncharacteristically sober and said, “He is a sad, sad man, Eli. I feel bad for him.” She wouldn’t say why, though, only patted his hand comfortingly and urged him not to think about it until he felt better.

Damn it, he was
hurt
, not
sick
. He suspected they were hiding something from him. But when he asked Ramon about Joshua (carefully, so as not to out the boy), Ray only said that he’d been working in the office mostly and just kept to himself. Ray seemed to think that was weird but normal for Josh, so Eli didn’t press it.

The drive home was long and Eli was aching by the time they pulled up in the ranch yard. He slid out of the passenger seat of Tucker’s truck and leaned on the door for balance as he set his foot down on the ground. “You all right?” Tucker asked in concern. “Doncha think you oughta wait for some help?”

“I’m fine,” Eli growled. “Just a little stiff. Ain’t used to sitting in a truck that long.”

Ma pulled up in her rental behind them and was out of the car and beside him in a millisecond, but he shook her off with a faint smile. “I’m good, Ma.”

“Do you want to go home right away?” she asked, taking his good arm. “Sarafina said she’d have supper waiting if you want to go in, but I can bring something over if you want to go to the cottage instead.”

“No.” He shook her off gently so he could take the cane Tuck handed him from inside the cab and stumped up the stairs, leaning on the banister. He paused to rest a moment on the porch, then went inside to his welcome.

J
OSHUA
wasn’t there, of course. Tucker saw him looking and said in an undertone, “He’s at his shrink’s appointment. Said he’d see you later.”

Right. Eli wasn’t prepared for the way it hurt, the fact that Josh couldn’t be bothered to be there when he got home. Even after the scene in the rehab center, he still couldn’t believe Josh was really going to walk away from them.

But why shouldn’t he? They’d only been lovers for a couple of weeks. And it wasn’t like Eli was going to be in any physical shape to make love for a few more. He expected Josh had done his own research and found the gay bars Eli used to haunt. And that hurt worst of all.

He lasted as long as he could at the impromptu welcome home party—many of the hands had brought their wives or girlfriends, and the party had spilled from the great room at the front of the house into the patio, which Tuck had decorated with fairy lights. He’d even turned on the fountain and brought out the stored wrought iron patio furniture. Ma and Sarafina, whom Ma had hit it off with right away, bustled around serving people, despite Tucker demanding that they sit down and enjoy themselves. Finally Sarafina snapped “We are damned enjoying ourselves, Tucker!” and everyone burst out laughing. So Tucker didn’t say anything else, but a little while later Eli saw him hand a tray of hors d’oeuvres to Dennis and pick one up himself.

A little while after that, though, he reached the end of his rope and quietly got up, cane in hand, and meandered back through the house as if he were heading for the bathroom. Instead, he slipped out the kitchen door and across the yard to his own house.

I
T
WAS
well past two in the morning when Josh got home. He’d finished up at the shrink’s at nine or so, as usual, the session frustrating and pointless, as they had been the last few weeks. After that, he’d gone to a bar in the neighborhood for a drink. Well, mostly for a drink, but also to watch the faces of the people there, wondering if it were only those three who had been behind the gay-bashing of the other victims. Eli didn’t remember much about the attack, but he’d said he remembered seeing one of them at one of the gay bars he went to.

Josh’s glower and generally unapproachable demeanor kept anyone from trying to pick him up, though he did occasionally intercept an interested glance. In the days before the assignment, he would have taken them up on some no-holds-barred sex, but he hadn’t been with anyone but Eli in so long that it felt awkward to seem interested. Besides, he still wanted Eli. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally. He wanted things to go back to the way they had been before the attack, with Eli’s soft, slow lovemaking counterpointed with Josh’s own more demanding ways. He wanted to watch Eli working with the horses or ride with him out into the desert, with Eli pointing out places and things and critters Josh had never seen before. He wanted to go back to the tiny canyon, and dance in the waterfall again, with Eli watching and laughing at him. He wanted… shit. He wanted Eli.

After a couple of beers, but before he was the slightest bit impeded, he left the bar and drove around for a while. There were only two highways that went through Albuquerque, one going north-south, the other east-west, so he drove around on those for a while, then explored the city streets some. He parked outside San Felipe de Neri and walked through the small square that was the heart of Albuquerque Old Town, but there were people in the shadows there, and he knew it would be easy to score some H, and he just didn’t even want to be tempted. So he got back in Sarafina’s Forester and just drove around the narrow streets of Old Town for a while before getting back on 40 and heading home.

By the time he got there, the party was over and the house dark and still. The moon was high and very nearly full, illuminating the yards and corrals and ranch buildings with its pale white light. He parked the Forester and walked across to the paddock, where he leaned on the fence and looked out across the desert to the east. Out there, three hours’ flight and a hella long way, the guys in Los Peligros street gang were going about their business. Joshua didn’t have any illusions that they had broken the gang, just the cabal that was running the drugs. The gangs were like weeds; cut them down and the roots just sprouted again. He understood the appeal of them, especially in neighborhoods where there was so little hope, where everyone faced the same problems. The gangs were a way of connecting, of feeling like you had backup, when society and the City and life in general had failed you. They were your family when your family was nothing but demands and need and hopelessness. They were dignity in a place where dignity had been stripped from everyone, where respect was a dream and reputation the only thing you had left. As long as there was poverty, there would be gangs, and Joshua accepted that. He’d seen both sides. Seen the way that men learned to stand up straight, to find their place in being with men like them. It was dangerous, that mentality, but it gave them a sense of belonging. Of being.