Outlast the Night (23 page)

“Read a book,” Caine suggested. “Watch TV. Work on the organic certification application yourself. I’ll go over it with you when I get home if you want.”

Macklin grunted.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” Caine promised. “And you said you weren’t riding out today before I left, so don’t blame me for not being there when you changed your plans.”

“Something came up,” Macklin said. “We’ll talk about it when you get home.”

That didn’t sound good, but Caine didn’t push. If Macklin didn’t want to talk about it over the phone, pushing for details would only annoy him, and that was the last thing Caine wanted at the moment. He set it at a fifty-fifty chance of Macklin being annoyed with him when he got home with his surprise anyway. No reason to tip those odds against him.

“I’ll be home as quickly as I can,” Caine said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Macklin said. “Talk to you soon.”

Nerves churning in his stomach again, Caine put down the phone and drove the rest of the way to the apartment building where he was supposed to meet Sarah Armstrong. It wasn’t quite public housing, but it wasn’t much better. He grinned, thinking of the house on Lang Downs and the guest room there. If this weekend went well, he’d see about moving Sarah to the station. Macklin’s mother deserved better than this. He parked and went inside, looking for her apartment. He knocked on the door when he found it and waited, heart pounding, for her to answer.

He’d told her about him and Macklin, and her only reaction had been to be glad Macklin was happy, but he was still meeting his partner’s mother for the first time. Without him (which probably made it easier, honestly, since they hadn’t seen each other in thirty years). He didn’t think she would react badly to him now, but it didn’t settle his nerves completely.

The door opened, and Caine caught his first glimpse of his mother-in-law. He didn’t know how old she was, but it seemed every one of her years was etched into her face. She smiled when she saw him, though, and that took a decade off her lined face. “You must be Caine.”

“Yes, m-m-ma’am,” he said, cursing his stutter silently, but the combination of worry about Macklin and nerves at meeting Sarah was too strong to overcome easily.

“Come in for a moment,” she said. “I’m all packed. Unless you’d like a spot of tea before we go?”

“I would r-rather we g-go,” Caine said. “M-Macklin got hurt today while I w-w-was d-driving here, and I’d l-like to g-get back to him as qu-quickly as possible.”

“Oh, of course!” Sarah said. “I’ll just get my bag.”

She disappeared into the other room and came back with a small rolling suitcase. Caine took it from her and carried it out into the hall. She locked the apartment and followed him outside. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“He fell off his horse,” Caine said. “He t-twisted his knee. He’ll be f-fine, but I want to get home as quickly as we can.”

He put the suitcase in the trunk (and smiled as he did because he still thought of it that way and not as the boot. He’d picked up a lot of the vernacular, but that wasn’t one of them) and joined Sarah in the car.

“So tell me about yourself,” Sarah said as Caine started back toward Boorowa. “How did you end up on a sheep station in New South Wales?”

Caine smiled. He could do this part. “My great-uncle owned Lang Downs,” he explained, his stutter fading as he relaxed into the ease of storytelling. “He didn’t have any children, so when he died, it passed to my mother. She was going to sell it. She didn’t have any need for a sheep station, after all, but I convinced her to let me run it. Last year at Christmas, she gave it to Macklin and me.”

“That was very brave of you, leaving everything to come here,” Sarah said.

Caine shrugged. “There wasn’t much to leave, honestly. You’ve heard me stutter. It’s hard to get ahead in business talking that way, and I didn’t have a boyfriend. The station was a godsend, a chance for a fresh start.”

“It was still a brave choice,” Sarah insisted. “Plenty of people stay in miserable lives because they don’t have the courage to change anything.”

Caine didn’t ask if she was talking about herself. He didn’t know what had happened to Macklin’s father, but she had clearly been the only inhabitant of her apartment, so wherever he was, he wasn’t bothering Sarah anymore. “It was a gamble, but it’s paid off in spades.”

“And Macklin?”

“Macklin is the station’s foreman,” Caine explained. “He helped me get my feet under me, and I fell in love with him.”

“I know that wasn’t as simple as you make it sound,” Sarah said with a laugh.

Caine laughed too. “No, it wasn’t, but like anything worth having, it was worth the work. He’s a strong, stubborn, sometimes bullheaded man, but underneath that, there’s a tender heart.”

“I’m glad. His father did his best to beat it out of him, but it never worked when he was a child. It’s good to know that hasn’t changed.”

M
ACKLIN
heard the sound of the front door opening, of Caine taking off his boots and coming into the living room. He wanted to get up and go kiss his lover, but he wasn’t supposed to get up without the crutches, and he hated the bloody things.

“I’m in the living room, Caine,” he called.

Caine came in and joined him on the couch, kissing him firmly before running his hand down Macklin’s leg. “How bad is it?”

“It’s sprained, but Doc Peters doesn’t think I tore anything. A few days on the couch and then a few weeks in a bloody brace and I’ll be good as new. What took you so long?”

“I have a surprise for you,” Caine said.

Macklin frowned. He didn’t like surprises, even if he trusted Caine enough to expect it would be a good one.

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” Macklin said.

“I didn’t,” Caine said. “I got you someone instead.”

That made no sense, but before Macklin could ask what Caine meant, he heard more footsteps in the hallway, and a woman he didn’t recognize stepped into the room. He looked from her to Caine and then back again before recognition dawned. “Mum?”

“Hello, Macklin,” she said quietly. “I hope… I hope you don’t mind that I came to see you.”

“How did you find me?” Macklin asked.

“I didn’t,” Sarah said. “Caine found me. I know you have every reason to hate me, but I wanted to see you once, to see the man you turned out to be.”

“No,” Macklin said, reaching for the crutches. He struggled to his feet, waving off Caine’s assistance. “No, I don’t hate you. My God, Mum, it’s….”

Words failed him, as did his balance, so he simply held out his arms. Tears shone in Sarah’s eyes as she moved into his embrace. He buried his face in her thinning hair, unbearably relieved that she smelled like roses still. All the passage of years had not changed that one thing. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

She hugged him tightly. “I thought of you every day,” she said, her voice muffled by his shirt. “I prayed you would find a place to be safe, to grow and be happy. I never imagined…” She pulled back and looked around the room. “… this.”

“Did Caine tell you about the station?” Macklin asked.

“Some,” Sarah said. “Sit down. He said you hurt your knee.” Macklin did as she said. “Caine told me quite a bit, but I’d like to hear it from you. I’ve missed out on so much.”

So had he.

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but what about you?”

“There’s not much to tell,” Sarah said. “Your father died eight years ago. I sold everything and moved to Canberra. I help out in the kitchen of a little restaurant to supplement his death benefits. It’s nothing fancy, but with just me, I didn’t need anything fancy.”

Macklin pulled her into another tight hug and sought Caine with his eyes. Caine smiled and nodded as he came to sit next to Macklin.

“Maybe you’d like to stay here instead?” Caine said softly, his hand coming to rest on Macklin’s back as he spoke. “We have plenty of room.”

“Oh, I… no, I couldn’t.”

“You don’t have to answer yet,” Caine interrupted. “It’s an open-ended offer. Take the weekend, look around. Spend time with everyone. I’ll take you back on Monday like we planned, but we’d very much like it if you’d think about the offer.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said, smiling over Macklin’s shoulder at Caine. She pulled back a little and looked at Macklin. “He’s a keeper.”

“Believe me, Mum. I know.”

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Caine said. “I need to talk to Kami for a few minutes. I’ll bring dinner to you so you don’t have to go to the canteen.”

Caine stood, but Macklin caught his hand before he could move away. “Thank you,” he said, pouring all the love he felt into the words.

“You’re welcome,” Caine replied, squeezing Macklin’s hand.

With Caine gone, Macklin felt his confidence founder. He hadn’t seen his mother in nearly thirty years. He had no idea where to even start.

“How long have you been on this station?” Sarah asked.

“Almost since I left,” Macklin said. “I spent a few months on Taylor Peak, the station you crossed to get here, but that didn’t work out well. I came here right after and never left.”

“And now it’s yours.”

“It’s Caine’s,” Macklin said firmly. “I just help him run it.”

“That’s not what he told me,” Sarah said. “Although he said you’d say that.”

Macklin chuckled. “He knows me well.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“No, it’s a wonderful thing. Caine’s great-uncle and his partner built this place from nothing,” Macklin said. “When Michael died, the station passed to Caine’s mother. She signed it over to him at Christmas, and he insisted on putting my name on the deed as well.”

“Then you shouldn’t belittle his gift,” Sarah said. “How many people work for you?”

“Twenty or so year-round,” Macklin said, “and then we hire more in the summer when there’s more to do. Winter is a quiet time for us.”

“I am so proud of you,” Sarah said, hugging him again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for more of it.”

“You’re here now,” Macklin said. “Caine found you.”

“Your father never would have understood, but I think Caine’s wonderful. I think it’s wonderful you’ve found a man and a place to make you happy.”

“He does make me happy,” Macklin said, “and he does everything he can to make everyone else just as happy. I know the offer to have you stay here must seem sudden, but I’d like it if you did. It’s the right season to decide. Winter is the time to build because there’s less to do for the sheep. We could have a little house for you before spring. It wouldn’t be anything fancy, but it would be yours.”

Sarah studied him intently for a moment. Then she threw her arms around him with a soft sob. “Oh, my son, my beautiful, sweet boy. I have missed you.”

Macklin held on tight while she cried. He patted her back awkwardly, not really sure what to do with her tears.

“I should show you your room,” Macklin said when the tears slowed. “You can unpack and rest a little before dinner. It’s a long drive from Canberra.”

Sarah shook her head. “You shouldn’t be moving around on your knee. I’ll sit here with you until Caine comes back. I didn’t come to see the station. I came to see you.”

“D
O
YOU
need anything?” Caine asked later that night after they’d settled Sarah in her room and retired to their own bedroom. “A glass of water? Another blanket?”

“I need you to sit down and stop hovering,” Macklin muttered. “I sprained my knee. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Doc Peters said at least two weeks before you could get off the crutches,” Caine insisted.

Macklin grumbled some more. “Sit down and stop hovering,” he repeated grumpily. “I’m not an invalid.”

Caine joined him on the bed, and Macklin reached for him, then pulled him close. “Thank you. I said it earlier, but I couldn’t thank you properly, not in front of Mum.”

“She knows we’re lovers.”

“I know,” Macklin said. “She knew about me even before I ran away, but there’s a difference between knowing and seeing.”

“And you’re a private person by nature,” Caine finished. “I wasn’t upset that you didn’t kiss me.”

“Come closer. I’ll kiss you now,” Macklin rumbled.

Caine grinned and scooted into Macklin’s arms. “I’ll never say no to that.”

Macklin cradled Caine’s head with his hands, bringing their lips together in a tender kiss. Caine must have known how being helpless had grated all day because he made no move to fight Macklin for control of their kiss like he often did. Instead he sank into Macklin’s arms and the kiss with the gentle sweetness that was so much a part of who he was.

“You amaze me,” Macklin said when he could finally bear to break the kiss.

“Me?” Caine asked in surprise.

“Yes, you,” Macklin said. He dropped a quick kiss to the tip of Caine’s nose. “You just… make things happen. You found my mum and convinced her to give me another chance.”

“It didn’t take any convincing,” Caine said. “She jumped at the chance to see you again.”

“Maybe, but you’re still the one who found her and brought her here,” Macklin asserted.

“You missed her,” Caine said with a self-deprecating shrug, as if he needed no other reason than that to do what Macklin had feared would be impossible after all this time. Then again, maybe he didn’t need another reason. Caine had always been one to place great value on other people’s happiness.

“And now I don’t have to,” Macklin said. He tipped them back onto the bed, intending to roll on top of Caine and thank him properly, but pain shot up from his knee the minute it touched the bed. He fell back to the side, panting.

Caine sat up immediately, hands hovering over Macklin’s leg. “What can I do to help?”

“Just give me a minute,” Macklin said. The pain was already subsiding. “I’m not going to be able to fuck you into the mattress like I’d planned.”

“So we’ll do something else,” Caine said. “I can ride you—I know how much you like that—or we can lie on our sides. You know it doesn’t matter to me how we make love. It’s enough that you want me.”

Caine’s words hadn’t been intended to be inflammatory. His voice could drive Macklin to complete distraction without even a touch of Caine’s hands, but this wasn’t Caine’s sultry voice, nor was he stuttering yet, another thing Macklin found incredibly arousing. No, Caine was simply laying out options for him to consider, but the effect was equally undeniable. Taking care to keep his bad knee propped out of harm’s way, Macklin pushed Caine back onto the bed again before leaning over him as best he could and taking one tawny nipple between his teeth. Caine hissed above him, the sound bringing a smile to Macklin’s lips. He lifted his head and smirked at his lover. “I’ll think of something,” he said simply before lowering his head and returning to the most pleasant task of leaving Caine too needy to speak.