Ned had nothing more to say. He dressed, folded his bandana and wrapped it across his face to stop the bleeding. He might need to ask Doc for help once they got back. If Cole didn’t kill him out of spite on the way. Was this what they both were? Attracted to male flesh? Freaks of nature for whom sodomy was the natural state?
Now that the concept lodged in Ned’s head like an arrow he couldn’t pull out without causing more bleeding, he was stuck thinking about Cole’s skin against his. Of how it would feel to kneel in front of this tall, dangerous man and suck his dick for pleasure, to rub his palms up hairy thighs.
Ned couldn’t help but admire Cole’s form on horseback after they left the lake behind in silence broken only by rainfall and thunder. Elegant as the stallion he rode, he surpassed Ned in every way yet still found him worthy of his attention. When they’d kissed, Ned had been the center of the universe for this beast of a man. Now, he was no more than the dust under Cole’s shoe.
The storm chased them off the isolated path and into a flat valley surrounded by mountains, which the dense rain had transformed into dark shadows looming at the edge of Ned’s vision. The town ahead looked like a collection of crates and boxes, but in the downpour, he could barely see his companion, much less so the far-off landscape. Adam Wild’s sheepskin jacket saved his back from rain, and the brim of Ned’s hat kept the water out of his eyes, but his pants were soaked through already, adding to the day’s misery.
Lightning tore through the sky, forming short-lived branches above Cole’s dark silhouette, as if it were the expression of anger buzzing deep in his chest. Cole had proved his fury with that punch, though it was likely only a fraction of the violence he longed to unleash.
But what was Ned to do? Steal the occasional touch and never speak of it in the light of day? What else could they share? It wasn’t as though they could live together as man and wife or share anything beyond friendship. Better to leave those needs buried forever than risk discovery for pleasures neither of them should have sought in the first place. He’d seen Cole flirting with the girls in camp. If Ned gave into his lust, he’d have been a hindrance to this man with perfectly natural appetites for female flesh.
When they approached the town, few people were about to notice their arrival, most too busy hiding from the rain. One woman spared them a curious glance as she crossed the street over wooden planks put there to keep people’s feet out of mud, but it was way past dusk, and the difficult weather had citizens locking themselves up for the night already.
Lamps hanging in front of shops and in people’s houses were the only thing keeping Gedes from sinking into complete darkness. The saloon ahead remained open, inviting Ned with its lights, but the town itself wasn’t much to look at—barely two streets and a couple of wooden buildings scattered beyond the bounds of those two lines in the monotonous landscape. Perhaps it would have made more of an impression in the sunlight, since even rickety shacks might look half decent in favorable circumstances, but the rainfall that produced mud sucking in Nugget’s hoofs hid anything that might have added charm to Gedes.
Ahead of him, Cole turned his head toward the wooden gallows, perhaps thinking of the future. Even now, after they argued, after being punched, Ned vowed in his heart that he’d do everything in his power to keep Cole’s neck safe from the noose. His young life had been stained by Butcher Tom, Zeb, Scotch, and even Doc, who might seem benevolent and reasonable but still rode with murderers. Those bastards had shaped Cole from an early age and left their dirty imprint on a young man who could have otherwise lived a decent life.
At the sight of a notice board with fresh posters hidden under a wooden roofing, Ned urged Nugget closer, leaving Cole to ride ahead, toward the saloon. Its close proximity to the gallows ensured good takings on days of execution, since patrons could watch justice done from the second floor balcony, with girls hanging at their arms and booze in hand. Did Cole intend to ask around? Surely, walking straight into the sheriff’s office wouldn’t have been the smartest way to find out whether Adam Wild was kept in Gedes.
He’d hoped to see news about the train robbery, perhaps the wanted posters for the core members of the Gotham Boys, but some of the names printed in large letters had blood draining from Ned’s face.
Names like Cole Flores and Ned O’Leary, with badly drawn likenesses and descriptions that were more accurate.