The Man Who Hated Ned O'Leary (Dig Two Graves 2)

Cole chuckled, but the smile died on his face as he looked at the happy couple across the table. “You think he won’t spit in my face the moment he sees me?”

He’d said it in jest, but regret was so dense in his veins he had legitimate concerns.

“He might. But would you rather never know?” Parita cocked her head.

Cole was surprised both she and Roger still had so much patience for him. He’d never opened up to anyone during his time with the show. His inability to trust had crippled friendships, keeping them shallow. He’d joked around with Terje, played cards with Jan, and had learned a lot about photography from Gavin, but he’d never spoken to them about things that mattered. Jan had known of Cole’s past as an outlaw, out of necessity, but Cole had never told him or anyone else of his humble beginnings, his time with the Gotham Boys, and had never mentioned the man who’d meant more to him than even Butcher Tom had.

He’d remained distant, a lonely island in the sea of people.

“I—I need to go,” he uttered, rising from the bench so rapidly his head spun.

Roger raised his eyebrows. “Should we wait for you? The circus will be packed up and leaving by evening.”

Cole shook his head, too frantic to assess the time or do any clear thinking beyond planning the shortest route to the factory. Because Ned could still be there, but if he wasn’t, then Cole needed to hurry. Find him somehow. “No… I don’t know. Maybe I’ll come say goodbye to little Tommy,” he muttered, packing the photograph back into his pocket as he stepped away from the table. His gaze met a small mirror hung on the wooden pole supporting the oiled canvas stretched above the canteen, and the sight of his reflection made him stall.

He looked awful. Pale, with messy hair and puffy skin, he didn’t resemble the dashing youth who’d first stolen Ned’s heart. Unlike him, Ned had been trying. Shaved every day and had even borrowed that pretty vest two nights ago, all in a bid to win Cole over. All that for the tired, mean man in the mirror?

Cole rushed to the fenced-off pasture where all the horses belonging to the circus grazed, including the three painted in black and white stripes. He was running by the time he got there, but before he could have picked up his saddle from the nearby tent, Cole stood face to muzzle with Nugget.

He stalled, dumbstruck as the golden palomino he knew so well nibbled at grass without a care in the world. For a moment, Cole feared it was only a trick of the light that the stallion in front of him was only similar to Ned’s mount, but the distinct marking matching Cole’s star sign couldn’t have been confused with any other.

Nugget was here, therefore so was Ned.

Cole’s gaze darted past the various people working to prepare the show for departure, but the familiar figure wasn’t there. “Ned? Ned O’Leary?” he shouted, dashing toward Gavin, who frowned even before Cole voiced his question.

“Gavin, have you seen Ned? I need to find him, pl—”

“No,” Gavin said with a shake of his head. He might have said more, but Cole already dashed toward the next group of people, his mind full of fond memories. He remembered each night spent out of camp, stargazing. Sometimes, he and Ned would share some whisky, and there had been many, many times when Ned turned his head and smiled. Had Cole rolled over and kissed him then, would there have been a happier end to their story?

Terje was the one responsible for horses, so Cole ran up to him and grabbed one tattooed arm. “Ned. He left his horse. Where is he?”

Terje scratched his head with a frown, staring at Cole as if he were facing off against a cockroach. Still bitter about that punch then?

“He went to Judith’s wagon, and—Cole!”

But Cole didn’t care to hear anything more.

Of course! Ned was here to say his goodbyes to Tommy.

He ran, ducking under a long pole of wood carried by Jan and one of the new people. Already breathless, he ignored questions thrown his way. The edges of his vision pulsed as he remembered that time Butcher Tom and Zeb had taken Ned away, already knowing what kind of relationship Cole was involved in. The moment when Cole saw Ned riding back to him had made his heart so full of joy that no amount of ugly comments and jeers thrown their way in camp could have convinced him to give up on Ned O’Leary. Back then, he’d been ready to risk it all for his love. He’d confessed it in front of everyone, and abandoned Butcher Tom for Ned.

When had he become such a coward?