Lars threw his hands in the air with a scowl. “Fine! Eat his liver for all I care.”
Cole would have loved to cut him open and gorge on every bit of flesh. Or at least that was what he used to tell himself before Ned’s gaze had ripped open old scars and dropped in so much salt Cole’s insides stung.
He needed to be alone. Immediately.
“Let him feed the mutt before it tries to bite off his nose. I’ll see to the horse,” Cole said after a moment of pregnant silence and headed for the open door, his head pulsing with unwanted thoughts.
No matter how much sense it made to hide on this remote piece of land, Cole felt as if he’d walked straight into a trap, and as he’d have to bear the consequences of his rash decision for as long as Ned O’Leary breathed.
Even outside, with the evening air sneaking in under his open coat, the photograph stolen from the mantelpiece burned him like the hot iron had his forehead. Ned had taken care of that one memento. He’d dusted it while the rest of the house was reminiscent of a wolf den rather than a human dwelling. As if the confession made on the gallows hadn’t been a lie. As if Cole hadn’t been the only one to each night fall asleep in the arms of a ghost.
An ugly string of curses left Cole’s mouth as he bit through the inside of his cheek and drew blood to rein in the dense, painful emotions welling up inside him. He was such a sucker. No wonder Ned had manipulated him so easily.
Sunshine turned the snow into orange brocade, but he didn’t have the peace of mind to wonder at nature, and went straight into the small barn. He feared he might find Ned’s mount beyond saving, but as the sunlight slipped past the wooden door, its glow made the stallion’s shiny coat glitter like a nugget of gold still damp from being carried by the river. The beautiful palomino Appaloosa stirred in his stall and shook his head as if he’d recognized an old friend, taking Cole right back to the past that still lived inside him, no matter how badly he wanted to be rid of it.
The air reeked of fouled straw and manure, but the horse was alive, and the very same animal he remembered. A small smile tugged on Cole’s lips, and while there were things Nugget needed more than human touch, he stepped up to the stall. And when the horse leaned toward him, Cole embraced its thick, warm neck and closed his eyes.
“I’ll be damned. It is you. You look better than your master,” he whispered as the backs of his eyelids prickled.
Nugget was so warm to the touch, even more so under the blanket covering his back. Older, distressed by hunger and thirst, but still the same mount that had accompanied them so many times. An animal Cole had grown to see as an extension of Ned. Its pale mane was so soft to the touch Cole clenched his fingers on the wooly hair as he lifted the rug covering the beast’s back and glanced at the rump marked with the queer pattern of dots Cole chatted to Ned about on the day they met—the Leo constellation.
He pulled out the photograph he’d just stolen and showed it to Nugget. “See? That’s me. Remember me?” he cooed, but the sharp sound of the door slamming shut made him let go of the stallion, and tuck the frame between pieces of firewood stacked close by. Because if Lars fancied an embrace, he’d surely feel the odd shape under Cole’s clothes.
The tall, graceful shadow entered the stable before Cole got to see his partner’s handsome face. “Found some oats,” Lars said and dumped a large sack to the floor.
Nugget whinnied and stomped his hooves, as if he already smelled his long-overdue meal. The poor animal had survived on hay and whatever grain’s had been left in a torn sack, which now lay in the corner. There was leftover water in a barrel too, now mucky, with bits of hay floating at the bottom. It was a wonder the poor thing hadn’t gotten sick.
“How about I deal with the horses, clean this place and settle in our steeds while you handle the dog?” Cole asked.
“Sure. O’Leary says Dog is well trained. Might be fun to see what tricks it knows.”
Cole ignored the teasing and dragged the bag of feed closer to the empty trough. He’d need to melt some snow for water, but the beast would get to eat at least. “And you’re sure that this well-trained dog won’t be sicced on us when we return to the cabin?” he asked, unraveling the cord holding the sack shut. Air got trapped in his throat when Lars’s warm form pressed against him from behind, but he did nothing and just closed his eyes when the familiar nose rubbed him between the shoulder blades.
“Doubt it,” Lars said. “He loves his dog, and knows we’d shoot it without a second’s thought if it threatened us. I’m pretty sure we’ve got him by the balls, and he’s resigned to his fate.”
Lars said it as if it were a good thing, but jealousy burned hot in Cole’s chest, because Ned cherished those two animals more than he’d ever had him. He froze, realizing the photo frame stuck out from between the logs, but Lars was too busy kissing his nape to notice.
“I have a feeling there’s something you’re not telling me. Did you really take him from the gallows for money? You’re greedy, but not to the point of risking your life for gold.”
Caught red-handed. And the fact that Lars was only asking that question now told Cole his partner had grown certain of there being secrets. Denying it would have made Lars suspicious, so he’d have to throw him a bone. “He’s the reason why the Gotham Boys were captured. I want to know why he’d done it.”
Lars pulled away to whistle. “Juicy! I knew there was something more between you two.” He cracked his knuckles with a mean grin. “Let’s go get some answers.”
Lars had even more strength than his size suggested. A year back, he’d knocked a mark’s front teeth out in revenge for a minor injury he’d sustained during the chase. He had a mean side to him Cole had never fully experienced, but the thought of Ned’s face bleeding, his nose sunken, and eyes barely opening from bruising made his insides crawl with maggots.
“He’s in no shape to answer the kind of questions I want to ask. We need to get him off the booze if we want him to make any sense. The way he is now, he’ll make up whatever he thinks we want to hear.”
Lars groaned. “If that’s what you want, you’ll have to handle it yourself. You know I don’t have the patience for nurturing. Let’s get more firewood.” He stepped toward the stack, but Cole beat him to it, shoved some hay over the visible part of the frame, and faced Lars with a wide smile.
“I should have said this earlier. Thank you for coming back for me.”
Lars blinked, but his blue eyes shone when he smiled back and grabbed Cole’s hand. “Where would I ever get a partner who’s a brilliant sharpshooter and can drain my balls as well as you? Would have been a waste of good lips if you ask me.”
Cole twisted Lars’s fingers, while keeping up the fake grin. “Admit it. You were just sorry you never let me have a go at your back door,” he teased because that was the thing they did, but the sense of sexual urgency that so often overcame him once danger was over wasn’t there. His thoughts were preoccupied with Ned, and while Lars was a decent partner, both in bed and beyond it, he’d never made Cole long for him the way Ned used to. And now that this new Ned O’Leary was so close, Cole’s stupid, naive brain kept sabotaging him with glimpses of a life that could have been if he’d never found out about Ned’s betrayal. He was too tense, too overcome with intrusive thoughts to share a quick moment of relief with Lars.