“Fuck. That’s your fault,” he said, reaching behind him to button up the fabric flap.
I grinned. “It mostly always is. Pretty convenient to have that bit of cloth be moveable, I’d say.”
Oscar laughed and gave me the wide, impish grin that I loved.
“That’s a fact.”
He winked as I pulled on my trousers and shirt, then sat to do up my boots, while Oscar threw a couple of logs in the stove and stoked it so that they caught and crackled.
We’d spent close to a week chopping wood that now stood in a huge pile against the outside wall of our makeshift house, helping to keep the cold out and in a convenient spot to grab when we needed it. Oscar had learned real quick how to use an axe, and his muscles had bulked up, although he’d always be on the lean side.
He was strong and he was healthy, and that was all that mattered.
Back when I’d found him—an aimless, wisp of a stray in Dawson City—he’d been skin and bones, and filled with a desperation so raw that it hurt to look at. I’d fed him and taken him back to my room to get him cleaned up so’s he’d have half a chance. But what had happened the next morning I don’t think either of us had expected.
Oscar had been full of gratitude for the kindness I’d shown him, and I’d been horny for something I couldn’t hardly imagine until he’d put his lips around me and got me off that first morning, to my shock and his satisfaction. Those were the only skills he thought he had at the time, and I guess he’d wanted to show them off and thank me for what I’d done.
I’d been blindsided by his bold actions and the confusing feelings he’d aroused in me, but I should have known there wasn’t any going back from that moment—that he’d claimed me then and there, and t’wasn’t no use to fight it. As if something had possessed me in that room, I’d hauled his naked ass o’er my lap and spanked him like he was a misbehaving child, when he was the farthest thing from that. But we’d both got off and my world had tipped upside down and backward.
And now we were here, in Port Essington, building a home and making a life together. Back when I’d left the gang and taken up a good, honest career hauling supplies, I never would have expected anything near to this, and now I couldn’t rightly imagine anything else.
Chapter Two
A Trip into Town
“We gonna chop up some more trees today?” Oscar asked as he finished getting dressed. He took up his hat from its spot on the nail by the door and popped it onto his head, ready to go.
I turned from the window to see him standing there, looking fetching in the clothes we’d bought in Whitehorse. They’d traveled well, and I’d had them cleaned and mended when we got to Port Essington—mine, too—so that they’d last a while.
I looked him up and down and smiled a long, slow smile.
“Oscar Yates, you are a vision.”
T’was true. He had filled out in the time since we’d first become acquainted, and the months of staying put and eating well had done him good. He’d always be a bit on the small and skinny side, but I didn’t mind that one bit. His skin was clear and glowing from the hard work he continued to put in on our little house and keeping the wood stove stocked with firewood. He’d proved he could be counted on and that we were in this together. T’was the chores inside the house he wasn’t so fond of, but that didn’t bother me much.
He grinned and tipped his hat. “Yes, sir, I know it. So, you gonna put me to work or you gonna stand there starin’ at me all mornin’?”
“Hmm.” I scratched my chin where the stubble had grown in o’er the days since I’d last taken a razor to it, as if I was considering what to do, when I’d already made up my mind. “I reckon we should ride into town and get you a horse.”
The look that came o’er his face just then held about five different emotions—sadness and regret at the loss of his beloved Sprite, joy and excitement at the thought of getting his very own horse and curiosity as to why I’d decided today was the day.
“You for real?” he asked in hushed tones, taking off his hat and slapping it against his thigh. “Ahorse? Forme?”
He blinked rapidly, as though trying not to cry, and my heart burst for this young man who was full of emotion and had a pure, pure soul. T’was true that Oscar liked to get up to filthy business with me between the sheets and lots of other places, but he was the sweetest, most affectionate person I’d ever met. He loved with his whole heart, Oscar did. Sometimes t’was almost too much, but I’d take it.
“Reckon we won’t get a better day than this. The sun’s shining, and there don’t look to be much wind right now. We best go and get it done. We’ll get some foodstuffs while we’re in town then we’ll have what we need until Christmas.”
“Jimmy, I—” He choked on his words as his forehead creased and his lip quivered.
“C’mere,” I said, opening my arms and beckoning him to me.
He was against me in a moment, and I held him while he succumbed to his tears. Then he sniffled and pulled back, wiping at his eyes in an angry way. “I’m sorry.”
“What for? For bein’ sad about Sprite? He was a good horse, and I miss him.”
Oscar shook his head. “Nah. For blubberin’ like a baby. Will I ever be a real man, Jimmy?”
I almost laughed then, and I gave him a look like I thought he’d plumb lost his mind.
