“I ain’t seen any more of ’em,” Clarence said. “I think I got the one that was after you.”
I couldn’t remember hearing another howl while we were in the barn, but t’was a relief to get inside the house.
Irene grabbed Oscar and hugged him, then did the same to me.
“Oh my goodness. Sometimes I think living out here in the bush is a fool’s idea. But mostly it’s all right. And nothing beats having your own stretch of land.”
“We’re okay,” I said, though Oscar and I exchanged a glance. “I reckon if we hadn’t had that business on our previous journey, I wouldn’t have panicked so much. T’was only one wolf.”
“Maybe,” Clarence said, moving the drape so he could see out of the window. “Maybe not.”
His eyes moved back and forth as he scanned the yard, but he didn’t say anything more.
Chapter Seventeen
Besieged
Irene served up some rabbit stew and biscuits, then we had our baths. She got the water heating on the stove, and we filled the tub when t’was warm enough. I reckoned when they did their baths, the tub was in the kitchen, but when we had ours, we put it in Clarence and Irene’s bedroom so’s we could get some privacy. We were good friends, true enough, but I didn’t reckon they needed to see my bits or Oscars, unless t’was absolutely necessary, like in the case of Clarence’s injury.
I stoked the fire in the fireplace, so the flames rose and the wood crackled as sparks flew up into the chimney.
I let Oscar go first, while I lay on the made-up bed and watched. It reminded me of that first night in the hotel in Dawson, when I’d paid for him to have a badly needed soak and a wash, when we’d barely known each other and I was still trying to pretend my only interest was in helping him. The truth of t’was that I’d been drawn to him in other ways from the beginning, but I hadn’t understood it.
Well, I understood it now. Watching him relax and enjoy that steaming hot water, his hair wet as he soaped his lanky body, made me all kinds of crazy. I wished we could have baths like this at our place, because it always made me want him. He caught me looking and gave me a leer.
“Why, hello, Mr. Downing. Fancy meeting you in this fine establishment.”
I rolled my eyes. “Very funny.”
“Why don’t you come on o’er here?”
I blinked. “What?”
“I said, why don’t you come on o’er here?” He spoke low and breathy, so the others wouldn’t hear. I glanced at the door.
“To do what?”
“Well…” Oscar drawled, looking at the door and back at me, then quirking the corner of his mouth. “You oughta check to see if I did a good enough job.”
I narrowed my eyes, but my dick had taken notice the moment Oscar had shucked his clothes and stepped into the tub.
“Oscar Yates,” I said, sliding off the bed as quietly as I could, “are you asking me to come and bathe you?”
Oscar’s lips parted as the heat flashed up between us like it always did. Sometimes, t’was a calm, steady ember, and other times, like now, t’was a conflagration.
“Maybe.”
“We’re gonna have to be quiet,” I said. “If Irene and Clarence are wise to what we’re doin’ in here, we’ll never hear the end of it.”
“They won’t care.” He shrugged. “And you’re only gonna help me get clean, Jimmy.”
“Oh, I see.”
I strode to the tub, where I stood looking down at him in the water, all wet and slippery and warm. I wanted to get in there with him, but I reckoned the others would have heard all the splashing. So, I went to my knees instead and picked up the washcloth.
I swallowed thickly while Oscar gazed at the cloth in my hand. “Where do you—need help?”
The tub was long enough for a fella to sit with his legs bent, and the back of it extended upward in a gentle slope for comfort and ease. Oscar leaned his head back and turned to gaze at me, as he spread his legs so that his knees rested against the sides. His cock, in a state of semi-arousal, was visible under the water.
