Riding Tall (10 page)

But Joe was struggling with his own realization. He wasn’t reacting to the drugs, he was sick. His skin was clammy, he felt dizzy… “Feel my forehead,” he ordered Mackenzie, who gave him a strange look before complying.

“Oh, shit, you’re really hot,” Mackenzie said, jerking his hand away as if it had been burned. Or maybe he was just worried about contamination.

Joe groaned into the phone. “I think I have the same bug,” he admitted. “We’re on our way into town anyway. I’ll be there in ten minutes, okay? Tell the little guy to hang in there.”

“Thanks, Joe. Terrible way to start the holidays.”

He hung up and let his head flop back against the seat. “Austin’s sick,” he said. “I’m sick. Lacey’s drunk. Are
you
feeling okay?”

“I am right now,” Mackenzie said, cautiously rolling the window down. “But I’m not looking forward to the drive back out to the ranch.”

It turned out to be a quiet trip, at least. Joe curled up in the backseat with Austin, and Lacey sat in front with the window partway down, all of them isolated by their misery. Joe found enough energy to call Dr. Michaels and find out that there absolutely was a stomach bug going around and she’d seen two kindergarteners with it already. She gave him instructions for care and for when to bring Austin in if there was no improvement, and he dutifully repeated them all to Mackenzie so someone with a clear brain would know what was going on.

They got to the house and Joe herded the kids inside. He let Ally carry Austin up to bed and watched as Lacey staggered her way after them up the stairs. He took a moment to take a deep breath, then turned around and headed back out. “Where are you going?” Mackenzie asked. He sounded like he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or concerned.

“I’m going to do chores early. Feed the animals now, then go to bed.”

“Are you delirious?” Mackenzie was quick again, darting between Joe and the door. “You need to go to bed
now
. Ally and I can deal with the animals.”

“Ally and
you
?” Joe leaned his fevered head against the doorjamb. “You’re scared of every animal on the place except Griffin and Jasper. You’re going to feed them, now? Really?”

“Ally will do the scary parts,” Mackenzie said with dignity. “I will do the rest.”

God, Joe wanted this. He wanted to crawl into bed, preferably with Austin snuggled up against him, and he wanted to know that the farm was being taken care of. More than that, he wanted to know that
Mackenzie
was the one doing the chores and that he’d found a role for himself on the farm and was becoming part of the life Joe loved. But that should happen because Mackenzie
wanted
it, not because Joe got a little bug and was too pitiful to resist. “I can do it,” he said as firmly as he could.

“You’re an idiot,” Ally said from behind him. She was already back downstairs and brushed past him with a vigor he found completely exhausting. “You were going to have enough trouble just being one-handed and sore. With a stomach bug added in, you’re no use at all. Mackenzie and I are probably going to be sick by tomorrow, so we need you focusing on getting better now so you’ll be able to take care of us then. If
you’re
still sick, we’ll have to call Sarah, and
nobody
wants that.”

That was true enough. Sarah’s response to illness always seemed to involve cooking a huge meal, with lots of banging pans and sickening food odors, even though she knew no one would be able to eat anything. She’d babble about keeping their strength up and then bang some more pans…. “No Sarah,” Joe said fervently. “Will would be better.”

“He’s on a plane,” Ally said calmly. “You know this, Joe. Cancun for Christmas? You were making fun of him about it two days ago.”

“Santa’s never going to find him,” Joe muttered. He really was feeling terrible.

“Since you think Santa steals from people, you should be happy for him,” Mackenzie said. He gently prodded Joe to turn around and head for the stairs.

“I’m jealous,” Joe said. “Santa’s going to rob us blind.”

“I really wish I could blame your insanity on the fever,” Ally said. “But that’s not the main thing right now. Mackenzie and I have things under control. Savannah will help when she gets home. You need to go get some sleep.”

“Just a nap, maybe,” Joe said. If he could just lie down for a bit, let the fever do its work, he’d be fine in no time. “I can still do tonight’s feeding.”

“Joe, I’ve done evening chores alone plenty of times,” Ally said tiredly. “You’re not magic—other people can do the same stuff you do, and we do it almost as well. You need to let us.”

“Mackenzie’s afraid of cattle,” Joe half whispered. He was at the bottom of the stairs now, and he was pretty sure he’d rather lie down on them and sleep right there rather than force his drained body to climb all those steps.

“I’m
nervous
, not afraid. Now, go! One step up.” Joe could feel Mackenzie right behind him, nudging him forward but ready to catch him if he fell. Joe took the step. “Keep going,” Mackenzie urged. “We’re almost there.”

“We’re on the second step from the bottom,” Joe complained.

“Oh. I thought maybe you were too out of it to notice that. But, yeah, okay, we’re
not
almost there, but we’re on our way. We’ve made a good start!”

Joe didn’t have the energy to resist. He wasn’t the cowboy; he was the cow. He let himself be herded up the stairs and down the hall to be penned into the bedroom. Ally’d had the decency to head to the barn on her own, at least, so only Mackenzie saw Joe’s weakness as he sank onto the mattress and groaned.

“I’ll bring you a puke bucket,” Mackenzie promised, “in case you can’t make the bathroom.” He was untying Joe’s boots as he spoke. They should have been taken off downstairs, but apparently Joe had missed that step. “And maybe some soup or something?”

“I’m not hungry,” Joe said. He tried to help as Mackenzie dragged his jeans down and replaced them with a cozy pair of sweatpants. Even the brief exposure to the air of the bedroom had Joe shivering, and he burrowed under the covers as soon as Mackenzie let him go.

“I’ll bring you aspirin in a bit,” Mackenzie promised, “Once the painkillers from before are worn off better. Okay?”

Joe was pretty busy just trying to control his body’s shaking, but he managed to say, “Thank you,” before his chattering teeth got in the way.

Mackenzie’s hand was cool and smooth on his forehead. “Get better, Joe.” A gentle kiss on his temple, then, “I love you. And I want you to stop falling off trucks and getting the flu. Okay?”

“I’ll try,” Joe promised. He was still shivering, and he didn’t want Mackenzie to leave. And somehow, even without words Mackenzie seemed to realize that. He moved away for only a moment, long enough to shed a layer of clothes, and then he burrowed under the covers behind Joe and spooned up behind him, providing another level of warmth and comfort. It was stupid, of course. Mackenzie shouldn’t be taking the chance of getting infected; Joe wasn’t a little kid who needed to be babied through his weakness. Austin was in his room all alone, for God’s sake, and
Joe
needed a living teddy bear? It was pathetic, and Joe shouldn’t let himself be so weak.

So he gathered his strength… and used it to grip Mackenzie’s arm and pull it more snugly around his shoulder. He was weak: he’d take comfort while he could and deal with the consequences when he had to.

Chapter 8

M
ACKENZIE
ENDED
up being the only one in the house who didn’t catch whatever it was. Well, it wasn’t totally clear whether Lacey had the bug or just a wicked hangover, but she did her time hanging over the toilet one way or another.

“I wouldn’t mind the hay if it wasn’t so scratchy,” Mackenzie said as he heaved a few dry flakes into Misery’s stall. She pinned her ears at his voice and edged her ass in his direction, threatening to kick, and he got out fast. Joe had told him the warning signs of equine aggression but had also said the first sign that Misery was about to attack was that she was breathing. After four days of helping with chores, she was the only animal on the farm that still scared Mackenzie, and he was pretty sure his apprehension was just good sense.

“Sorry,” Joe said. He wasn’t at full strength, between his newly casted arm and his recent illness, but he was still getting twice as many animals fed as Mackenzie. “I’ll try to find some less scratchy stuff.”

“That’d be nice.”

By the time Mackenzie finished doling out horse hay, Joe was taking a breather, leaning against one of the rough barn beams and watching Mackenzie through lazy, predatory eyes. Like a lion that wasn’t actually hungry but was still watching the antelope. Weakened Joe was strangely sexy. Strong Joe was sexy too, of course. Mackenzie hadn’t really found a flavor of Joe that
wasn’t
sexy, now that he thought about it. Well, puking Joe hadn’t been too hot, but after he’d brushed his teeth, when he was sitting in the shower because he wanted to clean off the fever sweat but had been too weak to stand up… that had been kind of appealing.

“I like you when you’re weak,” Mackenzie said out loud. Probably a mistake, judging by the way Joe’s eyes flew open.

“I’m not weak,” he protested, pushing away from the support beam. “I was just waiting for you to finish!”

Mackenzie rolled his eyes. “You’re not weak as a rule. And you’re not weak now, by ordinary standards. You’re just a little less superpowered than usual. You’re in Clark Kent mode, how ’bout that?”

Joe looked slightly mollified and reached out to pull Mackenzie closer, then wrapped his good arm around Mackenzie’s waist. “You my Lois Lane?”

“Jimmy Olsen,” Mackenzie said. He let his lower body lean against Joe’s but kept his shoulders and head pulled away. “I’m the young ingénue, eager to learn the ways of the workplace. Please, Clark, tell me more about haylage.”

“You’re not ready for that knowledge, Jimmy. You need to work up to it.” Joe’s lips were soft and warm as Mackenzie kissed him. They stayed like that for a while, their jackets open in front to share their heat as the cold air of the barn made their personal cocoon cozier and more intimate. “Ally will be here soon,” Joe warned as Mackenzie slipped his gloves off and eased his hands inside Joe’s shirt.

“I’m just warming my fingers,” Mackenzie protested.

“You’re warming more than that,” Joe said with a grin. Between absence and illness, it had been a while since they’d done more than snuggle, and it was gratifying to realize that Joe had felt the lack. Mackenzie liked being the one to initiate things, but he liked it even more when Joe tightened his arm around Mackenzie’s waist and spun them, eased Mackenzie against the beam, and pressed in for a hard, deep, full-body kiss.

Neither one of them was happy when the barn door creaked open. Joe pulled away and tugged his clothes straight, and Mackenzie followed suit. It was frustrating to be interrupted but hard to resent the cause, and they both turned to watch as the parade came in from outside. Ally and Lacey, Savannah and Austin, all bundled up against the cold and carrying the wicker baskets that had been used for this since the tradition began. The dogs trailed behind with Christmas bows around their necks, although Red stopped just inside the doorway and pawed his off, then picked it up and carried it to Joe as if he’d killed a new and exotic animal and wanted approval. Red had spent the night on the bed with Joe the night before—their Christmas Eve tradition—but apparently it hadn’t really gotten him in the holiday spirit. Griffin seemed quite pleased with his bow, trotting over to greet the men and show off his gay apparel.

“Is it time?” Austin asked seriously. He claimed to remember the custom from the year before, but he’d needed some extensive prompting to recall the details.

“I think so,” Joe said. “The feast is ready?”

Savannah held out her basket for inspection, and Austin followed suit. “It looks delicious,” Mackenzie said. It was almost true. The kids had made a sort of oatmeal, full of dried fruit and bits of grain and applesauce and whatever else they figured the animals would enjoy. Joe and Mackenzie had brought up a few extra buckets’ worth when they’d come to the barn, enough for all the cattle to get at least a taste, but the kids’ smaller containers were for the special animals, the ones they’d made into pets.

Joe and Mackenzie stepped back and watched as the older girls helped the youngsters with the feeding. Angel and Devil, the sweet, placid horses for the farm’s beginner riders, got heaping servings. The chickens squawked and pecked at their scattered offering, and Flower and her calf, Blossom, the milk cows slurped up as much as Ally would give them. She spent a moment with Trout, her quarter horse, and Lacey helped the younger kids give treats to the other horses as well.

“Nothing for Misery?” Mackenzie asked Joe. They were still snuggled together, Joe’s arm a welcome weight on Mackenzie’s shoulders, and he could feel the man’s chuckle through his chest.

“Crazy bitch would probably be happiest if she got one of my fingers for a snack.”