Chapter 7

Once the cart was in,Caleb cooked a quick breakfast while Brance finished up with the horses.He brought a plate out to the barn for his lover—eggs,the last piece of smoked ham,and the flour they had bought in town made into a thick gravy poured over a couple hard biscuits to soften them.Sitting on an unbroken bale of hay,Brance ate.Caleb stood close beside him,watching,hishand never straying far.With a faint smile on his face,he brushed his fingers over Brance’s temple,smoothing back the hair;he straightened the shirt over Brance’s back,strummed along the nape of his neck,and traced the seams in his sleeve down the length of his arm.More than once,Brance shrugged him off,but Caleb kept coming back,like a moth drawn to a flame.

Finally,Brance shoved his empty plate at his lover,forcing him to take it.“If you’re always going to act this moony,”he threatened,“I’ll never say it again.”

Caleb laughed.“You don’t have to.I heard it once.That’s all I need.”