CHAPTER 13 - KISS AND TELL

We rode fast that day to put some distance between ourselves and Garrett again. He was too close on our tails for comfort and our only choice was to run and hope to make the border before his army caught up with us. We could see Mexico from the hilltops now and we knew we'd make it the following morning if we kept up our current pace. Looking back the way we had come from the higher ground, we continued to see the dust rising from our pursuers' for some hours, but eventually there were no further signs of them and it seemed they had stopped to rest.

We carried on for a few miles before we stopped to let the horses rest up. We came upon another of the many long-abandoned old buildings scattered around New Mexico and used this for shelter. Some of its walls were still intact and afforded areas of shelter for ourselves and the horses. It was late afternoon and still hot, the sun blazing down. Everyone was exhausted.

Billy, Hendry and Doc all sprawled out inside the three still standing walls of the building out of sight. Every so often one of them would emerge and prowl around looking for signs of Garrett catching us up, but all was quiet. Chavez was attending to his horse and I took up a position under a large tree a few yards from the building and watched him. He took better care of the animal than the rest of us did with ours, I mused. I wondered what he was thinking. We had barely acknowledged each other all day and a number of times I had almost made an attempt to talk to him, but failed to think of a subject to raise. I felt jumpy and nervous, unable to gauge whether he regretted what we did or not. Did I regret it, I wondered? I remembered how he felt under me, his hands on me, his tight heat gripping me. My cock twitched slightly and I grimaced and adjusted my clothes.

He turned away from his horse and glanced around him, his eyes landing on me. I was tempted to call him to me, but reluctant to draw the attention of the others. Instead I just raised an eyebrow as I stared back at him. He gave me a small smile and strolled over to the tree, stretching out beside me with one arm folded behind his head and his eyes closed. He didn't speak and pretty soon he slept, but the fact that he would rather join me than the others made me relax and I tried not to question myself. As usual I didn't sleep. I just lay there with one hand resting over the handle of my knife which was tucked under my leg, just in case. Strange really; knives weren't my weapon of choice; I always preferred a gun.

I picked up the knife and studied it, getting a strong feeling of deja vu. Not so long ago I had been contemplating cutting Chavez's throat as he slept. I knew I would never do it now and I put the knife away. I didn't hate him any more. In fact I wondered if I ever had. I'd been full of resentment because he was better than me at everything and I'd been loath to admit it to myself. He was a better horseman, a better shot, better with a knife and he was tougher than anyone I'd ever met. I'd let my hatred of both Mexicans and Indians tar him with the same brush until I'd gotten to know him a little. No, I didn't hate him. I had feelings for him and they certainly weren't hatred. I didn't like to think too much about what they might be instead. I glanced over at him again. His extra senses that alerted him to other presences when he was asleep didn't seem to be working. I was surprised; he was normally at least partly alert to the threat of our enemies. He must be completely exhausted.

I dozed off eventually and when I next opened my eyes the sun was setting and it was cooler. Chavez was still asleep. I propped myself up on my elbow and looked down at him. He didn't stir and I studied his face, long dark lashes curving up slightly, lips parted as he breathed slowly and steadily. I couldn't stop thinking about what we had done the night before and I felt my face warm as I remembered again how much I enjoyed it. I wasn't even thinking when I dropped my head lower and kissed him; it was just automatic. I brushed my lips lightly over his and then pulled back and held my breath, thinking I probably shouldn't have done it. His eyes opened slowly and looked up into mine.

"What the hell are you doing?" he said huskily.

"Nothing." I rolled away and sat up, wishing I could disappear. I definitely shouldn't have done it.

To my surprise, Chavez didn't respond with anything sarcastic. He sat up slowly and turned to face me, then dropped his head forward onto my shoulder. I hesitated and then lifted my hand and rested it on the back of his neck. I stroked his hair and we just sat there for a moment. My heart slammed against my ribs and I wondered if he could hear it. My hand slid to the side of his neck under his hair and I felt his rapid pulse. It occurred to me that if one of the others were to emerge from the broken down building at that moment, we were the first thing they would see, but it didn't seem important.

"I'm sorry for the way I've treated you," I whispered.

"Forget it." Chavez pulled his head away and straightened up, meeting my eyes again. "What happened to you in the past, Dave?" he asked.

I was startled and didn't know quite how to respond. "What?" I said. "What do you mean?"

"No one is born without a heart and soul," said Chavez. "You seem to hate everyone and everything."

"I don't," I protested, my already racing heart speeding up nervously. "I know I've been a real bastard to you, but mostly I just talk a lot of shit and don't think about what I'm saying."

"It's more than that," said Chavez. "So why? Why don't you care about anything?"

"Well…uh…it's p-pretty pointless caring about anything…n-nothing is permanent," I stuttered. Godamnit, how did he know? I snatched my hand away from where it still rested on his shoulder and gripped my crossed ankles instead so he wouldn't see how I was shaking. Christ Almighty; I didn't want to go there.

"That's horseshit," said Chavez. "Why don't you tell me the truth now?"

"It's not important," I said.

"Isn't it? So you're just going to go through the rest of your life alone, dwelling on it rather than get through it and be happy?"

"I am happy," I grunted.

"If you're happy, then I'm a white-eye."

"Alright, you asked for it." Damn him, I was going to spill it all out and make myself look like a fool. I licked my dry lips, wondering whether to just blurt it out or try and make it sound less than it was.

"I was just a kid," I said, focusing my eyes intently on the hole in one of my boots. "Eleven years old. My Pa had been dead a couple of years and my Ma took up with a useless son of a bitch without even a horse to his name. Both of them were desperate for attention I suppose – from what I could see they had nothing much in common. She wasn't enough for him, though and he decided I was to provide some of his entertainment. If it wasn't that, then he was beating me black and blue just because he could. My Ma did nothing to stop it – she figured while he was interested in me, he'd hang around." I swallowed, feeling like I might throw up. I'd buried it so long that now I was forced to think about it again, talk about it, it left a nasty taste in my mouth. "He was the first man I killed, soon as I learned how to use a gun." I cleared my throat. "So...when you said 'don't', that's why I stopped. I might be a lot of things, but I don't force myself on anybody like he did."

"I'm so sorry," Chavez groaned. I glanced up at his horrified face.

"You don't say sorry, remember?" I said bitterly. He ignored me.

"Would I be right in thinking, then, that because the two people who are supposed to take care of you treated you like that, you decided you'd never get close to anyone else?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Dave…." His hand came to rest on my arm and squeezed.

"Leave it." I pulled away and got to my feet. I didn't want to talk about it any more, all this emotional shit. I'd already said far too much and I was aware that I wanted him to care and feel sorry. I tried to tell myself it was the last thing I should be wanting and I walked away from him, attempting not to keep reminding myself that it was me who had started it by kissing him and why had I done that? Because I cared too.