Truman’s brows furrowed. “I asked for your help clearing out Aunt Berry’s things, not mine. And I already have a huge greenhouse for my gardening supplies, not to mention the barn. I don’t need to use the goat shed for that. And since I don’t have goats…” He flexed his jaw and pushed his glasses up his nose with a jab. “It’s for my costumes. And they’re not trash. They’re special. I’m keeping them.”
I moved forward and picked up a handful of bags before stepping around Barney and entering the little shed. The cramped and dark space was surprisingly tidy with several rows of hooks on one wall and utilitarian cubbies lined up along another. At the end was a portable clothes rack that stood forlornly with nothing but a few empty hangers swinging idly from its pole.
I began unpacking the trash bags and hanging the costumes back up as best I could, stashing shoes and accessories in the cubbies and hanging ties and belts from the hooks. Barney’s attempts at lecturing Truman about needing to stop spending so much time and energy on silly things made my fingers itch, but I kept reminding myself Truman was capable of standing up for himself since he was the one who called Barney out in the first place.
When I returned outside to gather some more bags, the two of them were standing opposite each other with matching glares. Someone needed to break the tension.
“Is anyone hungry? It might be a good idea to grab a bite to eat before the fire investigators swing by for the interview.”
Barney looked surprised to see me as if he’d forgotten I was here. “Interview? What interview?”
Truman lifted his hand up to fiddle with a curl hanging over one ear. I’d noticed him do it before and wondered if it was a nervous gesture.
“They think it’s arson, so they want to ask me some questions.”
Barney’s face darkened. “That’s ridiculous. As if Truman had anything to do with it. If it was arson, it had to be those Stanner boys. They’ve been hassling him for years.”
I couldn’t hold back the question that had been bugging me for a while now. “Why hasn’t anyone stopped them?”
Barney’s nostrils flared. “And who are you, again? A friend of Mister Moneybags?”
It took me a minute to realize he was referring to Tiller. “I’d like to think I’m a friend of Truman’s now, also, but yes. And if this harassment has been going on for so long, why hasn’t anyone gone to the state police?”
I could understand Truman himself not having the guts to go above Sheriff Stanner’s head because the repercussions would be awful if it failed. But Barney was old enough and established enough in town to be able to go to bat for him with the authorities.
Truman opened his mouth to say something, but Barney beat him to the punch. “Not that it’s any of your business since you’re a stranger here in town for all of five minutes, but this is a delicate matter involving sensitive moments from Truman’s past. There are quite a few people here in town who blame Truman for what happened to the ski resort and…” He stopped to pat Truman’s shoulder awkwardly. “Not that it was your fault, sweet pea, of course. But because of that, Truman has many enemies. It’s complicated. I wouldn’t expect a newcomer like you and your friends to understand.”
I thought about Pim, Bill, Nina, Mia, Mindy, Chaya, and anyone else who’d come by the farmhouse to check on Truman after the fire. He wasn’t without friends in town, so what was I missing?
Truman cut in. “Actually, I’m feeling tired and think I want to take a nap before the investigators come. Barney, would you mind taking those orders on the front porch to the post office for me?”
Barney’s eyes flicked between us. “I’m sure your friend Sam wouldn’t mind.”
“Actually,” I said casually, “I’m here to fix the fence. But don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Fine, I couldn’t help a little jab.
“If he gives you any trouble,” Barney said, turning to Truman and smoothing his thinning hair back, “call me. I’ll return later this evening to check on you, and if I need to get the sheriff’s office involved in checking up on this guy, I will.”
The threat was particularly offensive considering how dangerous the sheriff’s family was to Truman. This man made me sick, and I hoped like hell Truman would tell him where to shove it when his head cleared. In the meantime, I gritted my teeth and held my tongue.
“I’ll be fine,” Truman said wearily.
As soon as Barney’s car had disappeared through the gate, I returned to the trash bag pile and began moving them back into the shed.
“Come lie down with me?”
I let out a breath and turned to face Truman. There was only ever going to be one answer to that question.
Hell yes.
I followed him into his house and back to his bedroom before stripping my jeans off and sliding into bed with him. I pulled his back to my front in spoon fashion. “Better?”
He surprised me with a laugh. “Ten thousand times better.”
We lay there in silence for a little while, simply feeling the warmth of each other’s bodies. I kept my desperate hands above his waist and distracted myself with cataloguing the texture of his arms and hands. At some point I realized his little round ass was making itself known to my dick with slight wiggles and presses back.
I sucked in a breath and reminded myself this poor man had just lost his entire shop. He was exhausted and vulnerable. The sweet man needed actual sleep.
“He means well,” he said after a few minutes.
“Mpfh.” That was about all I was capable when it came to Barney.
“I mean… he… well, I just wish…” His voice trailed off for a moment. “I just wish he listened to me. As opinionated as he is, he’s actually been a very good friend to me in many ways. He’s taken care of me when I didn’t have anyone else, and he has the ability to be so thoughtful and sweet. After Patrick and Craig gave me hell one time last year and I wasn’t feeling all that great, Barney volunteered to work at the shop so I could stay home and rest.”
“That was nice of him,” I admitted.
“And he’s brought over dinner several times, even if I didn’t ask him to stay and eat with me.”
“Mm-hm.”
“But when I asked him to clean out Berry’s stuff today…”
It had been an odd departure from the attic cleanout Truman had probably had in mind. “Why would he start with your costumes?”
Truman sighed. The warmth from his breath washed across my arm and made my skin tingle. “He thinks it’s childish. He’s embarrassed by them. It was the same way with my dad back in Durango.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I volunteered at the library there, they asked me to stand in for one of the ladies who worked at the botanical garden. She wore a caterpillar costume for her preschool visitation days, and the kids loved it. So that day I kept it on and read The Very Hungry Caterpillar during circle time in the library. Oh my gosh, you’d have thought I was Superman! The kids loved it. The librarian loved it. After that, I tried making or buying costumes to go with some of the books I read.”
I pictured Truman as a shy, awkward teen waddling up to the library in his bumblebee costume with his stinger bouncing from side to side.