One to Leave (One to Hold 5)

...

The pain didn’t stop, but it backed off enough for me to breathe. I opened my eyes, and Derek was gone. What?

I blinked a few times wondering if I’d hallucinated the whole thing. Scanning the horizon, which was only a sliver of light now, I found him. He’d walked back to the other rider. They had a short conversation, and then whoever it was turned and headed back the direction they’d come.

Looked like my partner was staying the night.

* * *

Derek

God dammit, Stuart looked like hell. His skin was pale and his eyes had dark circles under them. He’d lost weight. If I had to guess, I’d say he hadn’t slept in days. I couldn’t be sure what was going on here, but I’d seen withdrawals before. It looked like my partner was coming off a long run of some powerful shit. Only I didn’t know what or why.

“Head on to the house,” I told Patrick, who’d followed my order to stay on his horse. He might not like his older brother, but the concern lining his face said he still loved him.

“What is it?” His voice was low.

“I’m not sure, but it looks like he’s coming off something.”

My younger partner’s eyes moved back and forth. “Coming off something? As in related to his injury?”

“Could be. Either way, I’m staying. Head back and get the truck and bring us supplies. He needs painkillers and a bottle of whiskey. Make that two bottles. See if you can find us some food, and bring any clean clothes in his room.”

Patrick nodded and turned his horse before heading back to the ranch at a gallop. The last of the horizon was disappearing fast, and a blast of what looked like a million stars scattered over our heads. This was it. Big Sky country. It was beautiful, and we were in no position to enjoy it.

Turning, I took a deep breath and headed back to the campfire. The closer I got, I saw Stuart leaning forward, face in hands. He was hurting bad, and he was proud. I’d have to work with him through this. He wasn’t going to take help from anybody.

“I’ve got supplies coming,” I said, pretending not to notice how hard his muscles were flexed. “Supper, clean clothes, pain killers. Whiskey.”

He let out a grunt in response, and I figured that was all he could manage. I didn’t expect an answer, but after a few moments, he took a deep breath and eased himself straight again. “Who was that with you?”

“Patrick.”

His didn’t speak, but I knew he was pissed. For a little bit, the only sound was the crackling of the last piece of wood on the fire. I looked around and saw a decent-sized pile of wood freshly chopped and stacked near the cabin. I went over to grab a few logs to throw on it. It was good to see he’d been exercising.

The cabin was small. I guessed it was used for a shelter when the winter came and hands needed to be out in this part of the territory. A quick glance through the window showed Stuart’s things scattered around, but mostly, I noticed the overturned furniture.

I walked back and threw the wood onto the bright orange coals. “I haven’t seen you since you’ve been back. I wondered if you changed your mind.”

His hand passed over his mouth, and he nodded. “It probably wasn’t the best idea to go to the office.”

No more beating around the bush. “Looks like you’re dealing with some serious shit here.”

His arm dropped, and he made a fist before unclenching it. “That old injury was giving me problems.”

A million other things would have hurt less than that. I knew he didn’t mean it, but that old injury tied me directly to what was happening here. He saved my life when it happened, and the damage to his back had sent him home with a purple heart and an honorable discharge. It was the worst thing that could’ve ever happened to him, and guilt stung in my chest.

“This looks like more than just your back.”

Quiet filled the space again. It wasn’t clear if he wasn’t answering my question or if he was thinking about what to say. Stuart had never been overly talkative.

We watched the fire pop until he spoke again. “Remember that night we had tower duty, and we had to stay awake all night?”

Rubbing my hand over my eyes, I thought of all the shit we’d been through the two years we’d served together. “Which time? Seems like we had more than one of those.”

“You told me about being a kid and getting through the scary times with your dad.” His elbow bent and he rubbed his eyes. “You said something like... you imagined the two of you doing your favorite thing together? You would think, the next time you saw him that was what you’d do?”

I’d only told two people that story. The other was home with my son. “Yeah, I remember that.”