LGBT

Chapter 4: A Cold Dip

Chapter 4: A Cold Dip

Bill thankfully changed the subject and they made small talk while they ate and relaxed. Allen was listening, but he couldn’t help but watch Bill as they talked too, wondering just how far Bill wanted to go. If he wanted to go any farther then flirting at all.

Finally, they finished. Allen tried to screw his head back on right as he packed the horse. Nothing might happen, after all, and he needed to be paying attention to the ranch, not anything or anyone else. They climbed on and started down a narrow track that followed the creek, Allen in front, calling out to Bill when there were low hanging branches.

They hadn’t got very far at all when suddenly Gypsy reared up with no warning, pitching Allen off. He landed on the embankment, sliding down into the cold water. He gasped and got his feet underneath him looking back up. Bill had managed to grab Gypsy before she could run off, and now he was looking to make sure Allen was okay.

“Had to be a snake,” said Allen, climbing back up the embankment. “Gypsy hates snakes.” Dripping and shivering, even in the afternoon heat, Allen took a few steps forward, looking for any sign of the offending creature. But probably it had been as startled by the horse as the horse was of it and it was gone.

Sighing, Allen came back over to sooth Gypsy, taking the reins from Bill. “Good catch.”

“Good reflexes might be my middle name,” said Bill. “Are you hurt?”

“Naw, just my pride,” said Allen.

“Don’t suppose you brought a towel?” asked Bill, getting down off his horse.

“Didn’t think I’d need one.” Allen walked slowly around Gypsy, making sure the horse hadn’t hurt herself.

Bill was looking him up and down as Allen put down Gypsy’s hoof and straightened. Yeah that was a ‘checking you out look’ if he’d ever seen one. “You like what you see?”

“Yep,” said Bill. “Though wet jeans are going to be a b***h later.”

“I know, but as much as you’d enjoy it, I’m not riding the rest of the way without pants.” He clambered back up onto Gypsy. “Come on. Not too much further anyway.”

Bill shrugged and got back onto Harvey. Allen was glad he was quiet again as they rode. He was thinking he might just have to build a fire when they got there and get out of these wet clothes. And... well that could lead to interesting things. Bill was giving off more signals then a lighthouse.

The weather started taking a turn for the chill. Clouds started coming in from the north, along with a cool breeze that went right through his wet clothes. Gypsy neighed and shook her head, probably not entirely liking the wet.

“It’s your own damn fault,” muttered Allen.

“What?” asked Bill. The trail opened up and he moved up next to Allen.

“Was talking to Gypsy. She’s not happy with me right now, but it’s her fault I’m wet.”

Bill nodded and looked at the gathering clouds. “How is she gonna take it if it rains?”

“She’ll deal. Always does. Might pout about it, but she’ll do what she needs to.”

“I’ve known a few like that. People and horses.”

Allen smiled at him and turned to climb up a short hill. “Here we go,” he said, bringing the horse to a halt and gesturing at a small stand of trees. Quite a few of them were down, and some were dangling into the river, the water eddying around the hanging branches. “Had a flash flood in that last major thunderstorm. And some pretty bad wind.”

“I can see that. I guess most of these other trees have some shelter or are higher above the embankment, but these guys are kinda out in the open.” Bill observed the land around them.

“Yeah. There’s a ford here, or used to be, so there’s not so much of an embankment. On the upside for us, there is a small cabin. Not much of one, but someone used to live here and mind the ford. Once there was a village in the mountains about ten miles upstream, because someone found just a little bit of gold, but it wasn’t enough to sustain the place very long and the creek from here to there is pretty rough, so they had to cross here.”

“Fascinating,” said Bill, nudging Harvey forward and down to the stand of trees. “Anything left of the ghost town?”

“Not much. I can take you up there if you’ve got time. Eventually Boss’s great great grandfather bought up the land around here and turned it to cattle. Most folks were just happy to be leaving with something. He’d already homesteaded a lot of the land along the creek anyway.” Allen followed Bill down.

“Hence the cabin here by the ford, right?” asked Bill.

“Yeah. One of his sons occupied it for the five years. I think he actually came out here before his old man, chasing the gold, but he saw he could do better by claiming the ford then chasing gold that didn’t exist.”

Bill nodded. “That generally seems to be the case. The ones that panned for gold mostly left empty handed, the ones that took care of them and offered services were the ones that got rich.”

“Yep. There’s the cabin there,” Allen pointed as they came around a large rock. They were following an old, worn path from the gold rush days. “Kinda small, but it was just him when he built it.”

“At least it’s shelter. Looks like that rain is going to be here sooner rather than later.”

“Lucky us it’s built up on the hill a ways, so when it floods it doesn’t reach.” There was a stone fence around it as well, that he knew from experience helped keep water at bay when it did get truly high. Boss’s ancestors hadn’t been stupid.

The distant peal of thunder got their attention. “Come on,” Allen said, turning for the cabin. The roof extended off to one side where it that had once sheltered a wood pile, but these days there wasn’t much wood and there was, actually, enough room for the two horses. Allen had made sure the cabin was still useable as part of his duties, he knew it was important to Boss and times like this when they were out on this end of the property it was good to have.

Bill grabbed a couple pieces of wood while Allen got the horses as settled as they could with an oncoming storm. Another peal of thunder came, along with lightning that was certainly headed their way.

Allen shivered as the wind picked up, going right through his clothes. Again. “Watch after each other,” he told the horses, rubbing his arms and getting the saddlebags off. He carried one into the cabin, then the other, and finally the tack, giving the horses a quick rub down. By the time he’d finished, Bill had a fire going, along with some food.