(I'm going to post a warning about the content of this, there's some innuendo of m/m interaction, but nothing graphic, and as you've hopefully understood so far, I'm of a more liberal background than the series itself suggested... )

Chapter 10 Strange Subjects

Sunday next, the father–son pair returned from church and lunch with the sheriff to find Eirik in the midst of a whole lot of chopped wood. It was early evening.

"Eirik, we're home!" Mark called, pulling BlueBoy's reigns.

"Mr. Valance can't have worked you very hard if you've got strength left for all that!" Lucas noted with raising brows. He could ride again, to his immense enjoyment and relief. Just the walking was still painful. "Leave up, boy, we'll help with the stapling. That's reserve for the next months!"

Eirik stared up at the two, glanced around and threw the axe expertly, if distractedly onto the block. "Guess I lost track."

"Everything all right?" The young man looked – troubled? "Things all right at Drumlock farm?"

"Yes. Repaired the fence – routine for when we'll tackle your fence here." There was a tension in the young man that reminded Lucas of a scared animal. The rifleman swung down from his horse and took a step closer.

"Mark, would you take the horses? - Eirik."

Something was definitely on the young man's mind, so much so that the attempt at a smile threatened to turn into the opposite.

The green eyes met his, wide and edged with panic. "Do you need me for anything, Lucas?"

The tall man frowned. "You mean right now?"

"I'll go for a ride, if that's ok."

"What about dinner?"

"Got something prepared." Eirik threw back already over his shoulder.

"No, I mean for you! Damn it, boy, what's wrong?"

But the young man was already at the other edge of the yard, and in a rare show of his physical abilities vaulted over the coral fence, took a running jump and landed on the dun's broad back. Spirit started to move even before the young man had buried his hands in the grey mane. Two silhouettes melting into one, the pair headed for the horizon at neck-breaking speed.

"Wow, Dad, did you see that? Spirit took the corral fence like it was nothing. I never knew Eirik could move like that! I thought you were the only one!"

Wiping the frown from his face, Lucas turned to his son. "I doubt many people can jump like our friend here. Come, I'll staple the wood and you look after the chicken."

Eirik's hat lay forgotten by the hacking block.

…..

Lucas sat on the porch waiting for the farmhand's return. Something had upset the young man, and the older McCain felt absurdly worried. The dynamic between the two men had changed during his recovery – Eirik taking on more responsibility and growing in confidence and implicitness with it. He had been sympathetic to the needs of the farm from the beginning. These days he instigated changes and repairs without asking.

Lucas sighed a silent breath of relief when the hoof beats grew louder. Eirik jumped off the tall horse even before he reached the yard, leading him in on foot, considerate of the presumably asleep occupants.

Clearing his throat gently, Lucas had the satisfaction of startling the slender figure. "Feeling better?"

"You waited up for me?"

"When a friend is distraught I tend to worry. The dun could have broken a leg, the way you raced out of here."

Eirik shrugged, taking a step closer. "He's used to me going crazy like that." The young man seemed much calmer. "I had to set my head straight."

So his sneaking suspicion was correct. "Mr. Valance?"

Eirik looked at him, his face visibly torn under the clear sky. "How'd… oh. It's common knowledge?"

"That he's a sodomite? It's not talked about much, some folks take offence, but it's known. So far he's been a decent fellow. What happened?"

Eirik was not ready to elaborate. "You say this so calmly."

For a moment Lucas was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"Your priest in town would not approve."

Ah, that had the boy confused. "That's a discussion for another day, but there's a difference between righteous and petty. Valance has not hurt a fly, he's good to his animals, and fair to his workers. He never made a secret of what his preferences are… Will you tell me what happened?" If the neighbour had hurt the young man, things would look much different.

The young man sat down heavily on the porch steps, leaning against the crock, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "Thinking back now, I was rather blind. When I asked for his team of oxen, I was desperate – you were injured."

Lucas felt his lips twitch.

"I guess my words could be misread. Anyway, today, after we finished the fence, he invited me inside for a bite, offered me a beer. I declined, but he drank." Eirik shook himself like a horse might. "I admired a clock he has on his mantelpiece…"

Lucas nodded. "He's got quite the collection of marvels." He'd been to the other man's house on one or two occasions.

"He came up behind me… tried to kiss me." The boy buried his face in his arms.

Lucas held his breath. This could go two possible ways.

"I startled… almost knocked him unconscious." A strangled laugh escaped. "The expression in his face… then he began laughing, and begged my forgiveness. I even helped him upright. We parted as gentlemanly as humanly possible." Tilting his face up to the sky, the young man moved his shoulders. A long breath later: "Sounds ridiculous now."

"Not if he took you completely by surprise, or you experienced something similarly unwelcome before."

This time, the shiver that ran over the young man, making the hands he'd spread in the dim light shake, was unconscious. He burrowed them into his hair, seemed to startle at the scarf in place.

Lucas weighed for a long moment if he should even say another word. But Eirik wasn't making a move to retire.

"That priest you mentioned…"

Bumping his head against the post at his back, the young man closed his eyes. "Aye. Bad memories. He was not gentleman – but a 'man of the church'." The disgust in his voice startled himself. He sat up. "Sorry, Lucas, I know you have a different opinion."

"How old were you?"

"Thirteen. Escaped his fat fingers by a hair. He's the reason I'm so 'proficient' with my staff – and without it."

"You had no one to turn to? To get justice?"

"He was the last link to my childhood – I thought I could turn to him, if anybody at all."

Lucas grimaced, rubbing his hands over his face. It was a wonder the young man could talk about prayer and having faith at all.

"Mr. Valance, though… you had dealings with him?"

"Aye." Lucas shrugged expressively, stretching his arms. "He's had the place for a few years, lives rather reclusively, but one does meet – he has an interest in horses. I helped him out once, found him with a twisted ankle in the field, his horse bitten by a rattler… Out here, as long as nobody is hurt, we leave people to their own devices."

"Oh, I don't take offence at who he is." The deep voice had its normal timbre back. "The natives are much more open about relations that way."

"That's good." The rifleman felt absurdly pleased the situation had resolved itself with such relative ease.

"He must be really good with his gun and his fists."

"The gun part is true – he's made a name for himself down south and even during the war. Fists, I don't know. How do you figure?"

"He can't have had it easy, being who he is."

Lucas frowned.

The young man looked up at him, upper lip curling. "Very few towns have a Micah Torrence for sheriff, and a Lukas McCain to keep them thinking straight."

"Ah…" Lucas wiped a hand over his face. He could think of a few instances when this town of his had threatened to forget which path they wanted to follow. He frowned at the younger man. HOw much of his words had been mockery?

The dun chose the moment to remind his friend that he needed to be taken care of before he settled for the night, and Eirik stood laboriously. "Yes, you're right, old friend." Over his shoulder he added toward Lucas: "I'll rub him down and turn in. Thank you for waiting for me."

"Glad to have you home safe and of calmer mind." The tall man sneered gently and stood, too. "G'Night."