from Part 1, chapter 3b
The day took them into a long stretch of open ground into the lands around the Fremont River. Dust spiraled into the sky, stirred by Arrabal’s herd up ahead, and their own charges had to be watched like hawks for any sign of bolting. At dinner, with Tomaso and Hector by the fire, Earl felt shy of Rich and could hardly raise his eyes to the other man’s without his cheeks burning. His arms and legs seemed attached to each other by wires like a marionette’s, and every fiber of his clothing worried his skin and stirred him.
Another box canyon, considerably larger than the last, served as their evening camp, one whose breadth and lack of cover forced the watchstanders to be vigilant all the night through. Even so, there was no moment that passed in those hours that either man was unaware of precisely where the other was. Riding their vigil on the herd, their eyes sought each other like the moon pulled by the tide. The next day, spying the red hair gleaming in the sun across the river of cattle, Rich wondered, who was the moon, who the sea?
He asked the question of himself, but couldn’t answer it.
They had found a shaggy pinon whose lower boughs had broken under a recent snow, drooping to the ground, and there they found shelter and privacy. Clothes were shed and shoved to the bottom of the bedroll. Less shy on this much warmer night, Earl gloried in their increased intimacy, letting his hands wander down Rich’s bare back, unconsciously clutching, guiding.
The other man hesitated, fearful to hurt him, and brought their faces close, an unspoken question.
Earl fastened his hands around Rich’s buttocks, his silent answer, urging, then pulling him in, holding him at the spot where the pleasure was deepest. Then, beyond shame, he wriggled against the probing flesh, Rich moving, seeking, eyes asking, Here? Here? Like this? And Earl’s closing, his breaths coming in spasmodic gasps, gripping him with his loins as he went under. He felt Rich’s mouth clap over his own as the surging overwhelmed him, swallowing the cry like a diving bird’s.
All day his hunger grew, till that night when Tomaso and Hector fell finally asleep, and he boldly rode right up to Rich, needing him to answer it. They found a small overlook above the herd and spread the blanket out. Earl embraced him with such intensity that Rich drew back and cradled his cheek, soothing,
Whoa there.
He indicated the full moon above.
We got us till that theres full up agin fore we come to the Green River.
He brushed Earl’s lips with a thumb.
Aint got a do it all in one night. Plenty a time between now and then a git to know each other real well.
Earl lay back, liquid in the other man’s arms, drinking from his lips like a last-chance well.
The thought of the Green River filled him with dread. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, or even think, what happens when we cross it, what then?
Dear lord...