Wild Horses (28 page)

His churning thoughts and roiling emotions required his hands to do something, anything, which made the kitchen an obvious outlet for his excess energy. He would have baked cookies, had he known how, but at the present, he limited his activities to setting out a late breakfast for two. Attila would not be very hungry yet, if last night was any indication. He sliced up an orange and a grapefruit and put on a pot of coffee and a pot of mint tea.

J
UST
as the cinnamon toast popped out of the toaster, Attila entered the kitchen and replaced the cordless telephone in its cradle. He noted the redhead’s tight shoulders and the way he kept avoiding his eyes.

It is apparent that I cannot maintain a personal relationship.

The realization hurt. He… he had been insufferably rude to Kai the night before, and Kai had just taken a deep breath and offered him more ibuprofen and another cold drink.

Kai was his angel, his saving grace.

Losing a horse is bad enough, but I don’t think I could stand losing you.

Kai’s words kept returning to him, niggling at him. If Kai walked out because Attila had acted like the insufferable idiot he was often accused of being, Attila would be crushed.

Devastated.

Bereft.

He eased himself behind the somewhat taller man and slid his hands along Kai’s bare sides, caressing the defined dips and ridges of his chest. He buried his face into Kai’s warm back, inhaling his essence. “I hate being sick.”

“I know.” Kai’s voice sounded a bit tight.

Attila shuddered at having wounded the other man so much—yet an apology was something that never came easily to him. “Thank you for leaving the juice and crackers,” he tried again.

“Yeah. No problem.”

Attila paused, wondering what would make Kai’s frosted edge thaw. “I am actually a bit hungry, and my fever seems to be gone for now.”

“What do you want on your toast?” Kai asked.

“Butter, please.” Attila released him and Kai nodded, taking two plates of toast to the table. They sat across the table from one another. Kai’s eyes, so beautiful and brown, would not meet his over the breakfast table. “Thank you for doing all this, Kai. And… thank you for feeding the horses this morning.” He saw Kai stiffen. “Are they okay?”

“Yeah,” Kai replied, his tongue loosened by the introduction of a neutral topic. “No signs of fever in any of them, no weakness, and everyone’s eating.”

“That’s good.” Attila observed Kai from underneath his eyelashes. As Kai raised his head to reach for something, a ghost of a handprint stood out on his freckled skin. Attila paused in midmotion. He had seen a similar mark before. The anger he felt last night was trivial compared to the cold, hissing rage he felt now. “What did Mona want, and what did she do to you?”

Kai’s head jerked up. He looked startled like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming truck. “You mind if we don’t discuss it?” he said, his voice almost a whine.

“I absolutely do mind. It is obvious she hit you. What else did she do?”

Kai stirred, his cheeks flushed. “We had words… and, this is my fault, but she wants to take her horses elsewhere unless I clear the field.”

“Unless you what?” Attila almost shouted.

Kai stilled. “I’m not supposed to tell you.” Kai filled his mouth with cinnamon toast and coffee, forcing Attila to wait.

“Alright. I am going to sit here and wait as long as it takes for you to give me the whole blow-by-blow. I want to know exactly what we are facing. And we are facing this together, as a team.” A slender, sinewy hand reached out to grasp Kai’s wrist. “We will face her as a couple, Kai.”

Kai put his coffee down and used that hand to rub his cheek. Word by word, sentence by sentence, he presented the entire unfortunate sequence of events.

“And the worst part is, she’s a woman so I can’t slug her back like I would a guy. An’ even worse, she’s loaded. I can’t afford to piss off somebody rich and get arrested, or… or something like that.” Kai’s frustration was apparent, but after he got to vent a bit, Attila noticed how his shoulders relaxed. Most of all, he was gratified to feel the fingers of Kai’s captured hand grasp his own wrist right back. They sat there, holding each another’s wrists, as Attila took great satisfaction in listening to Kai’s account of what transpired.

Attila chortled. He had never made such an undignified sound before—not since his teenage years. “You called her a slut and a coward.” Tired eyes twinkled with highlights of blue.

“That’s not all.” Kai looked miserable. “She said she’d pull her horses out of here and the other owners would follow. You’ll suffer financially, and you’ll be forced to sell at least half of your horses. She said nobody would board horses with us since I let Bubbles die, and the unmanageable guys would be turned to glue and dog food.”

Attila’s felt his gaze harden. “First of all, she is welcome to leave. Secondly, horses are no longer used for such purposes. It is against the law. Apparently she did not expect you to know that, and she did not expect the two of us to communicate.”

“But if I leave, she won’t go, see?” Kai’s voice was pleading now, begging him to understand.

“Kai… before you told me all these things I was not supposed to know… honey, what were you going to do?”

Kai gave him an incredulous look. “‘Honey’?”

Attila’s cheekbones dusted with pink. “What were you going to do, Kai?”

“There was only one thing I could do. Once you were over your West Nile virus, I was gonna get on my bike and… and leave.”

Attila let go of Kai’s wrist. He wanted to break something, but the glasses and the plate would just be wasted wishes if he threw them against the wall. More importantly, tantrums were for children. He had wreaked enough damage the night before, and it was high time to pull himself together, regardless of how he was feeling at the time. Still searching for a target, he picked up his second slice of cinnamon toast. It felt hard on the outside and soft on the inside, sweet with cinnamon fragrance.

Fragile, like Kai.

Resolving not to crush it needlessly, he set it down again. His eyes met Kai’s across the table. “Don’t leave.”

“But remember, the horses come first!” Kai flung Attila’s own words back at him.

Attila shook his head. “They do, but they don’t. I cannot take care of the horses without you. I cannot train Cayenne without you. Money will take care of itself. Mona Putney is a brainless chit with no understanding of my reputation or the reasons why other riders board and train here. To her, it’s just a game—an expensive form of entertainment. To others, it’s a way of life.”

“But… I said I’d stay only if I can do you good. If my presence hurts you in any way….”

Attila rose and pulled Kai up by his messy hair, then shut him up with a kiss. “You are special, Kai Alewright. You are uniquely suited to this type of work, and those years in that factory were years of wasted potential. I was born to this, and I have never seen anyone with your raw talent.”

“Except for you,” Kai retorted.

“I cannot see myself objectively….” Attila leaned in some more, capturing Kai’s lips with passion that rivaled their first kiss in the pool, the one over the chocolate-mint milk shake… the table between them shifted and they emerged from their haze to the sound of shattering glass.

“Oops,” Kai said. “I broke something again.”

“Me, too,” Attila said, eyeing the clear shards and spilled liquid. “Let’s make our wishes and get the dustpan.”

“S
O
SHE
really hated seeing all of my love bites,” Kai said as Attila brushed his hair, untangling the ungodly mess all over again.

“Speaking of love bites….” Attila tugged a bit hard, making Kai yelp in pain. “Sorry. Dr. Russo was impressed with my collection as well, but the one under my ear isn’t a hickey from you. It’s a rash from the tick. He says I don’t have the West Nile virus—I have Lyme disease.”

“Oh.” Kai sat in silence, processing the information. “But that’s even worse. You can get all those long-term side effects. I looked your symptoms up on the Internet.”

“Not if I get my antibiotics on time. I was going to drive out and pick up my prescription, if you don’t mind staying here on your own and taking care of things.”

Kai thought about that. “I could drive out and get it, and you could teach instead of Brent, if you feel up to that. I could get takeout Thai on the way back.”

“You don’t want me driving.” Attila frowned.

“Well…,” Kai mumbled. “It’s kind of nice to be able to drive again. And if you feel your fever shoot up, you can ask Brent to take over. But no physical labor. If I find out you’ve been mucking stables in my absence, there will be consequences.”

“Oh?” Attila plunged his fingers into Kai’s mane of burnished copper, squeezing the strands right by his scalp and pulling him back into his chest. “I do not recall you being in charge, young whelp.”

“I thought I was in charge of your pleasure. I cannot please you if you won’t take care of yourself.”

Attila bent Kai’s head back and placed a tender kiss on his brow. “As you wish. I shall take better care of myself… as long as you stay with me.”

“A
RE
you sure about this?” Kai whispered as they exited the elevator to the third floor.

“Quite. My grandfather requested that I introduce you.”

Kai hoped the hallway would be long—delaying the inevitable—but Attila turned toward the second door on the left. The plaque on the door said
204
, and under that it said,
Ivan Keleman
. Kai had no time to smooth his button-down shirt once more, or to wipe the escaping tendrils of hair from his ashen face. His stomach was in free fall as he saw Attila knock on the door and enter.

An old man sat on an overstuffed sofa. His eyes were closed and he wore earphones and his expression was focused.

Kai saw Attila smile and walk over. He brought his hand to the old man’s shoulder. “Good morning, Grandpa!”

“Attila.” The still-strong voice carried all the way to Kai, who remained standing within easy escape range by the open door. Ivan Keleman pushed a button on the player, took his earphones off, and set them aside. “You are early. I expected you tonight.”

“I will explain.” Attila looked at Kai. “Would you close the door and come over, Kai?”

Very quietly, Kai did just that. He approached the two Kelemans with a poorly disguised sense of trepidation.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kai. I am Ivan Keleman, Attila’s grandfather.” The old man reached for his walker and rose, extending his hand. Two quick steps brought Kai closer, and he grasped the old, bony hand and squeezed it gently.

“It’s… uh… a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Keleman.” His nerves began to settle as he focused on the older man. He looked interesting, with snow-white hair falling down past his shoulders. Even in old age, Ivan Keleman was an inch taller than his grandson, almost as tall as Kai, and he still stood straight and tall. Only the walker and the slightly clouded eyes served as obvious evidence of the tooth of time.

“Come, boys. Let’s sit by the window where I can see you better. Attila, set up the chairs while I call the kitchen. You, Kai, give me your arm so I don’t have to use this contraption.” He hooked his arm through Kai’s. “I don’t see well anymore,” he explained as they made their progress to the tall bay window. “The bright daylight helps me figure out what people look like. I’ll be getting new lenses soon… although that may not fix it entirely. But that’s why you caught me listening to a book.”

“Oh yeah? Which book?”

“I forget.” Kai stiffened, and the elder Keleman uttered a quiet laugh. “Just a bad joke. I’m listening to a physics book by that British fellow, Stephen Hawking. He calls it
A Brief History of Time
. It’s quite interesting—did you know that the speed of light is slowed down by gravitational wells? No? It’s like when you spend time with my Attila and think it’s been only five minutes, and you’ve been with him for a whole hour.”

“Grandpa!” Attila exclaimed, his cheeks pink with
embarrassment.

“Why, my boy, you do
attract
other bodies!” The old man’s chuckle turned into a coughing wheeze. “Excuse me. Old age, you know. I get to be inexcusably rude. It’s one of the few privileges that make it worth sticking around.”

Once they were seated, the old man measured Kai with his foggy gaze. He reached out and touched his cheek, feeling his shape, and ran gentle fingers down his strong neck and over his shoulder. “So tell me about that young stallion, Vermillion, that Attila had purchased so foolishly.” The request was directed at Kai.

Kai flashed his eyes toward Attila, but the man just sat there, tense and pink in the cheeks. “He’s doing fine,” Kai said. “We call him Cayenne now, ’cause it’s shorter and it suits his temperament. Attila says he’s been trained before, so I’ve been riding him without a bridle. He can stand a saddle by now, but not for very long. So far we haven’t bridled him, but he’ll let me back him up, and he comes when called. Tibor thinks he’s been beaten with a whip in the past, so we keep those out of sight for now. And he likes Sen and Dusty a lot.”