Chapter Four

 

THE following night, Usher tended bar for Jess at The Cannonball. Only a few minutes into his short fill-in shift, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about his meeting the previous night with Jarreth. They’d had such a good time talking and throwing darts. Although the man had told Jess his mother’s night nurse had called him home, Usher couldn’t help thinking he’d done or said something that had upset the guy and he’d made an excuse to bow out. And when he’d watched for Jarreth to deliver his mail that day, a different postal carrier was driving the route.

At eight o’clock, Jess walked in to take over for the rest of the shift. Usher filled her in on who was drinking what at the counter and pointed out two troublemakers in the middle of the room.

Usher grabbed his coat off a hook and shrugged into it. “If you have any problems with those dickweeds and Mikey needs someone to help him bounce them out of here, you have my number.”

“Thank you for filling in for me, honey.” Jess kissed his cheek and then tugged Usher’s hat down over his ears. “You’re such a sweetie. I sure wish you could find someone as sweet as you are.”

Half-amused and half-flustered, Usher snorted. “Yeah, me too.” He waved to a couple of regular customers as he walked around the counter. “Be careful going home, Jess. The weatherman reported freezing drizzle tonight.”

“I will,” she called across the bar.

Outside, Usher paused to draw in a lungful of frigid air. The temperature had shifted, and a heavy mist filled the town. The streetlamps and lighted signs glowed dimly in the night. The headlights of vehicles swept through the fog like miniature lighthouse beams. Down the street, raucous laughter burst from the bowling alley as a group of teenagers headed for their homes.

Once again, his thoughts drifted to Jarreth. What was he doing right now?

Man, I sure hope he’s not pissed at me for something I did or said last night.

With a sigh, he made his way to his Bronco, digging in his jeans pocket for his keys. Two swaths of light raked over Usher, and a black, extended cab Dodge Ram pulled into the empty spot next to his truck.

“Hey, Usher,” a familiar voice called as the driver’s door opened.

He paused in unlocking the Bronco and looked around the cab at Jarreth. Delighted, he smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“Actually, I was looking for you.” Jarreth smiled back, his teeth stark in his face. “I stopped out at your place, but then I realized you might be here helping Jess or just having a couple of beers.”

“You were looking for me?” The moment the words left his mouth and he heard his hopeful tone, Usher wished he could take them back. Inwardly, he groaned. Shit! I sound like a lovesick kid. He watched Jarreth’s face for a reaction, but the mailman just kept smiling at him.

“I felt bad about leaving suddenly last night, so I was going to buy you a late dinner as my way of apologizing.”

“Is your mom all right?”

Jarreth nodded and stepped down from the extended-cab truck to face him across the hood of the Bronco. “One of Mom’s medicines gives her bad nightmares, and she’s suffering the onset of dementia, too, so between the two conditions, she can be a handful to calm down. Then today I was tied up taking her to doctor appointments.”

“Aw, man. I’m sorry.” Usher wanted to help Jarreth, to make things better for him and his mother, but he was at a loss of what he could do. At least he now knew he hadn’t done anything to offend Jarreth and why he wasn’t on his mail route today. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.

“No.” The mailman flipped the collar of his coat up, warding off the thick mist. “There’s nothing that can be done for Mom other than be there for her and make her as comfortable as possible.” He turned toward the driver’s door and looked over his shoulder. “So, do you want to get a bite to eat or not?”

The desire to be with Usher proved almost overwhelming, but he needed to let Brock out for a few minutes and supper already waited for him at home.

At his hesitation, Jarreth quirked a dark eyebrow. “Something wrong? If you already made plans, it’s not a problem, really.”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that,” Usher said quickly, desperate to keep him from leaving. “It’s just that my dog has been locked in the house all evening and I put a roast with vegetables in a Crockpot before I left.”

Jarreth stared at him quietly. He slipped behind the steering wheel but didn’t shut the door.

Is he angry with me? Or is he…? A realization hit Usher. I think he’s disappointed.

An idea formed, and Usher rushed on. “Why don’t you follow me back to the farm and share supper with me instead? I made plenty.” He chuckled. “If you want to know the truth, it’s a huge roast, and I packed the remaining room in the crock with vegetables so I wouldn’t have to cook for two or three days.”

“Roast sounds great,” Jarreth replied as a smile wiped the stoic expression from his face. “I’ll stop and get some beer and be right behind you. How’s that sound?”

Excitement fluttered through Usher’s chest. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Then I’ll see you in about fifteen or twenty.”

Elated, Usher jumped in his truck and drove home feeling like he was floating along the highway. He wanted to rush back and have the table set before Jarreth met him there, but the cloying mist prevented him from driving any faster than thirty-five.

Maybe he is interested in me after all. He turned onto the township road, followed it for half a mile and then pulled into the drive where he parked the Bronco, shutting off the headlights. Jarreth seemed disappointed when he thought I wasn’t going to have dinner with him, so maybe—no, I’m reading too much into this. Jarreth might not be gay. He probably just wants a good friend, since he’s fairly new in town.

The truth was that Jarreth seemed to send him sexual signals one minute, and then the next Usher felt the man was only interested in a platonic relationship.

A blast of icy wind hit him square in the face as he rounded the back of the truck. It took his breath away. “Damn!” he muttered and hurried along the shoveled path to the front door.

Barking issued from inside the house, reminding Usher of the unseen and sinister visitor of the past few nights. He halted and glanced around, but Brock’s barks were I’m-happy-you’re-home-because-I-have-to-pee barks. Unlocking the door, he stepped aside so his pet wouldn’t knock him down on his way out. Usher paused for a moment, the aroma of cooking meat, spices and vegetables wafting over him. However, he soon pulled the door shut and waited as the Irish Setter hurried to the edge of the yard and hiked his leg on the fence. Finished, he bounded back to his master as if sensing his good mood.

In the house, Usher shed his winter gear and strode into the kitchen, where he began taking plates and glasses down from a cabinet. He set the table and then cut the roast, arranging meat and vegetables on a platter that he placed in the center of the table. At the counter, he gathered some condiments and set them on a small, stainless-steel tray.

“Smells great!”

Usher whirled, knocking the tray to the floor with a clatter, and reached for his Colt, which he realized wasn’t holstered at his hip. “Fuck! You scared the hell out of me!”

Jarreth froze in the doorway, clutching a six-pack of AmberBock in each hand. A look of uncertainty settled over his features. “Dude, the door was open. I came on in and shut it so all the heat wouldn’t escape.”

“The door was open?” Puzzled, Usher looked past him and down the hall.

“Yeah.”

By the stove, Brock lifted his head and growled. The dog bared his teeth, his hackles up.

“Stay here,” said Usher. “Don’t move.” He quietly walked down the hall, peeked into his bedroom, and, seeing nothing, crossed to the gun safe and took out his .45, still in its holster.

He returned to the bedroom doorway. Jarreth met his gaze, his expression grave. Slowly, Usher tiptoed down the hall, pausing at the spare bedroom. It proved empty too. He moved to the sewing room he used for an office. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, Usher progressed to the foyer. There, by the front door, lay large, wet, paw-shaped footprints on the hardwood floor. They led to the first entrance to the living room. Whatever had entered the house had stopped within a couple feet of entering the room, then turned, and walked back out.

Behind him, Jarreth asked, “What’s wrong?”

Usher pointed at the melting prints.

Frowning, Jarreth looked from the tracks to Usher’s face. “What the hell are those?”

“I’ll explain later,” said Usher. He took his coat down from the hall tree and stepped into his snow boots.

“Look.” Jarreth grabbed Usher’s upper arm. “It’s obvious something came in here.” He gestured to the wet places just inside the living room threshold. “And for whatever reason, it chose to go back outside. Maybe it sensed the dog or heard us talking, but if it was brave enough to come in the house, then it’s probably not safe to go outside.”

“I just need to check on the horses,” Usher replied.

“I’ll go with you.”

The look of concern and determination on Jarreth’s face sent a spear of pleasure through Usher. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”

Brock shot out the door as Usher opened it. The dog stayed at his side and padded to the stable with him. Upon finding the barn still locked, Usher paused outside and listened. The occasional noise of a stomping hoof, a nicker, and a feed bucket banged against a stall reached him. If anything had disturbed them, the horses would be spooked and restless.

Satisfied everything was as it should be, Usher returned to the house with Brock, his boots slipping on the hardening snow. He shut the door, shrugged out of his coat, and returned his boots to the mud box. In the kitchen, he found Jarreth stowing the six-packs in the refrigerator. With the necks of two bottles between the fingers of one hand, Jarreth shut the fridge door.

Straightening, he said, “I take it everything’s okay at the barn?”

“Yeah.” He checked to be sure the safety was still on and placed the .45 on a countertop.

“I used a couple of paper towels to wipe up the water in the foyer.” After popping the tops off two AmberBocks, he handed one to Usher. “So what’s going on?”

Usher met his gaze. He seemed genuinely concerned. Should I tell him? He might think I’m crazy. Mentally, he shrugged away the thought. It didn’t make any difference whether he told Jarreth his theory about the animal, or the game warden. Blurting out, “There’s a big animal prowling Stone Trail that walks upright like a man,” would make any person label him as a nutcase.

“Sit down. We’ll load up our plates and then talk about it.”

Jarreth nodded and sat at the table.

Usher asked Jarreth questions about his mother, his job as a mail carrier, and even brought up the weather. In turn, Jarreth inquired about Usher’s family and how he became a horse breeder.

Halfway through the meal, Usher rose and retrieved two more beers from the refrigerator. Jarreth probably thinks I’m the most boring person he’s ever met.

He removed the bottle caps, his attention landing on Jarreth’s hair. The lights created strands of blue flames in it. Man, does he have gorgeous hair! I could spend hours just stroking those wavy locks. He admired his broad, powerful shoulders, but as his groin stirred, Usher focused on the matter at hand and set his guest’s beer on the table.

“So, what’s going on out here on your farm?” Jarreth questioned. “I know paw prints when I see them, and whatever made those tracks in the foyer has to be a big animal.”

Swigging his beer, Usher nodded and then set the bottle down. “I’ve been finding huge tracks around the farm too.”

“What do you think it is?”

Pushing his plate aside, he sighed. “It killed one of the fillies and took the corpse out of the big freezer on my back porch where I stored it to show the game warden. The damn animal ripped the lid plumb off the hinges.”

Jarreth paused in taking a drink, his eyes full of surprise. “Why would it take the carcass from the freezer?”

“I don’t know, but it really bothers me. It’s like it’s… well… like it’s….”

“Intelligent?”

He cringed, nodding. “Then, last night, the animal scared the hell out of the neighbor’s cattle.” He explained how cat, bear, and canines leave tracks, and what he’d discovered outside the back door the night before. “I plan on asking Doc Evirgrew whether or not a wolf’s footprints overlap. He’s Stone Trail’s resident veterinarian.”

“I know of him,” said Jarreth. “Sounds like a good idea, but I think you should contact the game warden or the police too.”

“You’re from Miami. Cops will respond to calls in Miami within a few minutes, but in these parts, it might be the next day, if at all, that they show up.”

On the floor, Brock rolled onto his side, groaning sleepily, and stretched out across the throw rug.

With his sock-covered foot, Usher rubbed the dog’s side. “The county police don’t pay attention to anything around here unless it’s drugs, murder, kidnapping, or a really bad accident,” he continued. “There just aren’t enough taxes or manpower for such a sparsely populated area. The terrain is tough to navigate, and during bad weather the roads are treacherous.”

“But something was in your home, Usher.” Jarreth’s dark eyes met his, the worry in them clear. “You should report it.”

“I can report it, but the only thing the dispatcher will do is make a note of it.”

“Shit, it looks like I moved to Bum Fucked, Egypt.”

Usher burst out laughing. Brock raised his head, looking pointedly at his master as if to say he’d disturbed a particularly good doggy dream. Seeing the expression on his pet’s face urged him to chuckle hard.

 “Stone Trail is still a nice place to live,” Usher said. “And things like violent crime seldom happen around here. The worst you usually hear about is a hunting accident or someone getting busted for growing marijuana.”

 “Regardless, Usher, you need to warn people that there’s a dangerous animal roaming these parts.”

“Hanna Tope owns the farm that runs against mine.” Usher stood and began gathering dirty dishes. “Folks will pay attention when Hanna decides to say something.”

“Why wouldn’t they listen to you?”

He couldn’t look at Jarreth. He scraped the plates clean and set them on the counter by the sink. “Some will, but most won’t.”

“Because…?”

Usher said nothing. Running hot water into the sink, he added Dawn and watched the bubbles form. If I’m wrong about Jarreth, and he finds out I’m…. He distracted himself by setting the dirty dishes in the water.

Jarreth startled him by appearing at the sink next to him. He picked up the sponge and dropped it into the bubbles. “I’ll wash, you rinse.”

They worked side by side for several minutes. Jarreth washed all the dishes and each individual utensil, his strong hands moving as though he did menial chores every day. He placed each item into the adjoining basin full of clear water. His long, strong fingers, with a slight hint of dark hair on them, mesmerized Usher. What would they feel like caressing his body? He imagined them sliding down his ribs and then Jarreth grasping his ass, their cocks belly to belly, thighs pressed together.

“When did you realize you were gay?” Jarreth asked.

The water glass Usher held slipped from his hands and hit the edge of the sink, shattering. Brock startled and, with a disgruntled snort, moved to lie in the kitchen doorway instead.

“Shit,” he hissed.

“I’ll get it.” Jarreth knelt and picked up the pieces. “Luckily the glass is thick, so it only broke into three pieces.” He picked them up, opened the cabinet under the sink, finding the trashcan, and dropped the shards into it. Standing, he said, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t.” Usher set silverware into the dish drainer. “Startled me, yes, but you didn’t upset me.” He waited as Jarreth finished washing a ladle and the meat fork. “I guess you’ve heard the talk about me and my partner, Zander?”

“Actually, no.” Dropping the items into the rinse water, Jarreth squeezed the sponge free of soap and water and then turned to wipe down the table. “Everything I’ve heard about you has been good. Jess speaks highly of you, and so does your neighbor, Hanna Tope. Regardless, I sensed you were gay, and no, I don’t have a problem with it.” He paused, his gaze so intense that Usher fought the urge to look away. “If you don’t mind me asking, where is your partner?”

“He died.”

A look of regret flashed across Jarreth’s face. “I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s been a few years, but the pain’s still there.”

“Pain like that doesn’t go away overnight.”

The way Jarreth spoke tugged at Usher’s heart. He smiled at the man. “You’re right. It doesn’t.”

Jarreth finished the task of cleaning up the tiny slivers of glass that had escaped his attention, and Usher took the sponge from him, letting the water out of both sinks and rinsing them out.

“You might not have a problem with me being gay,” said Usher, “but some folks around here certainly do.”

“How so?”

“Well,” said Usher, “because I’m gay, the game warden is ignoring my calls about the trouble out here.”

“How do you know that?”

Usher put the leftovers in containers, set them in the fridge and withdrew two more beers. “Let’s go into the living room and sit by the fireplace,” he said. “I’ll tell you more once we sit and relax.”

He led Jarreth into the next room where he sat in the recliner, and Jarreth chose the wing-backed chair closer to the fire. Slowly, the story about the men at the Cannonball spilled forth from Usher.

“What a bunch of jackasses,” Jarreth muttered, once Usher had finished his story. “I suppose it’s worth it to the warden to ignore it and jeopardize someone’s life?”

“I don’t know.” Usher put the beer bottle to his lips and drank deeply. Finished, he set it on the side table and stared into the crackling fire. “I barely know the guy, but for some reason he seems to have issues with me. The few times I’ve bumped into him at The Cannonball or around Stone Trail, he’s been abrupt and rude.”

“I’m not standing up for the guy, but sometimes people just come across that way.”

“Maybe,” Usher stated, unconvinced.

“Let me see if I can make a couple of phone calls and get someone out here to investigate the disturbances on your farm.” Shifting in his chair, Jarreth reached over, picked up another chunk of elm from the wood box, and tossed it into the fireplace. “Maybe if I state something about a couple people on my mail route being worried about a wild animal, someone will take this more seriously.”

“I’d appreciate it, man. I can’t stand to lose any horses, especially the yearlings. The filly was insured, but I would’ve gotten more out of selling her than what the insurance company will pay me.” He sighed and shook his head. “Financial ruin scares the hell out of me, and I’d hate to sell this place and have to move to the city to look for work.”

The faint sound of something pattering against the windows snared Usher’s attention. He rose and parted the curtain to look out the bay window. A solid sheet of ice prevented him from seeing anything.

“Shit, it looks like the weather turned bad faster than the weather report forecasted it would.”

He crossed the living room and exited through the doorway by the foyer. Opening the door, he stepped onto the porch and glanced around outside. The temperature had dropped a couple hours earlier than predicted. The drizzle was already freezing on everything. The electric lines glistened in the light cast by the security lamp out front. The fence, mailbox, and the two trucks all wore shiny mantles of ice.

“How’s it look out there?” Jarreth asked behind him.

“Dude, I think you’re stuck here for the night.” Usher looked over his shoulder at his guest. The idea of Jarreth sleeping under his roof excited him. A tendril of anticipation curled through his gut. “I’d hate it if you tried to go home in this mess and had a wreck.”

Jarreth stepped into the foyer and looked over Usher’s shoulder. “So much for accurate weather forecasts, eh?” He laughed. “If you don’t mind me staying, I think it’s a good idea.”

“Not at all.” Usher shut and locked the door, but upon turning around, he found Jarreth still standing close to him. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart rate jerked into racing gear.

“Well,” said Jarreth with a crooked smile, “in that case, I guess you have me sleeping here tonight.”