Part 2


JC set the coffee pot back on the stove and moved back to the table. He sipped the hot liquid, watching the boy eat. JC was grateful he’d put the stew on to simmer before he’d left for town. Looks as if they boy hadn’t had a decent meal in days.

JC’s eyes slipped down to the table, frowning a bit at the boy’s posture. He was hunched over the plate, one hand shoveling the food into his mouth, the other wrapped around the plate as if to keep anyone from taking it away.

He must have felt JC’s gaze on him, because his paused in his eating, fork in mid air. JC slid the plate of bread over to him. The boy picked up a piece, shoving into his mouth whole, then taking another to sop up the stew gravy.

JC rose from the table to get the stew pot, dishing out another plateful for the hungry boy. “There’s more if you want it,” JC said.

A pause in eating. “Thank you,” came a timid reply.

JC returned the stew pot to the stove, frowning again as he watched the boy take more bread, but hide it under his dirty shirt. Definitely been a while since he’d eaten, and probably didn’t think he’d get another meal for days. JC sat back down at the table, waiting for him to finish.

“Why didn’t you turn me in?” the boy asked.

JC sipped his coffee. “What’s your name?”

A swallow. “Justin.”

“I saw you at the store, and figured you must have hidden in my rig,” JC said. “Where are you from, Justin?”

“Tennessee.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

JC raised a brow. “I saved your ass, Justin,” JC said, his voice tinged with just a hint of anger. “Don’t lie to me. Ever.” JC saw Justin pale a bit, and he regretted his words.

“Eighteen,” Justin said in a whisper.

“Thank you,” JC replied. “I didn’t tell the sheriff because he and I don’t get along,” JC explained, “and I’d rather not give him any ammunition to come after me.”

“And since I was in you wagon…” Justin realized.

“He would have thought I was helping you escape.” JC finished.

Justin was quiet for a bit. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I appreciate your help, and the food.” He started to rise from the table. “But I’ll be leaving now, so I won’t bother you any more.”

JC rose and laid a hand on Justin’s shoulder, pushing him back into the chair. “Hold on there,” he said. He was shocked at how pronounced the bones were in Justin’s shoulders, and he lightened his grip on the boy. “You’re not going anywhere just yet.” JC sat down as well. He looked at Justin, something about the boy catching his attention. He swiftly lifted a hand to Justin’s head.

He was shocked when Justin flinched from his hand, dropping out of his chair to the floor.

“No!” Justin shouted. “Don’t!” He reached into his shirt and brought out the bread he’d hidden there. “Here…I’m sorry…take it back…please, don’t hit me!”

JC stood up, watching as Justin curled up into a ball on the floor, hands covering his head. His heart ached at the sounds the boy was making, a cross between a cry and a scream. He knelt on the floor, placing a gentle hand on the shaking boy on the floor. “Justin, stop,” JC said. “I’m not going to hit you,” he explained. He patted the boy softly. “Shh…Justin…” JC murmured these words over and over until Justin finally stopped shaking.

A reddened eye peeked under the arm covering Justin’s head. “You aren’t going to hit me?” he said, his voice hoarse.

“No,” he said, pulling Justin up to a sitting position. He lifted a hand toward Justin’s head again. Justin flinched but stayed upright. “You’ve got lice, Justin,” JC explained. “I was going to suggest you clean up before you go to bed tonight.”

Justin lifted a hand to his hair. “Lice?”

JC nodded, covering Justin’s hand with his own. “Lice.” Justin’s hand was warm under his own. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Justin’s eyes locked with JC’s. “It’s not…I mean…” He sighed. “I’m not use to people…”

“Treating you decently?” JC finished for him. “Yeah, well, I’m not use to having anyone around, so I guess we’ll be even.” JC stood up, pulling Justin up with him.

Justin blinked. “You want me to stay?”

JC sighed, taking a breath before answering. “I don’t know what I want, Justin,” JC admitted. “But I need some help around here, and figure you owe me.”

JC walked over to the sink. “Here,” he said, tossing a bar of soap and a dishtowel to Justin. “Go out to the trough and clean up. I’ll bring you some clothes.”

***********

What the hell was he doing? JC asked himself after Justin had left the room. He was in no shape to take in a stray, especially one with a penchant for theft and a fear of being beaten. So why was he allowing, no demanding that this kid stay here? Because, JC realized, Justin was JC. Or at least, what JC had once been, a kid in trouble on the fast track to prison.

And somehow, the idea of that happening to Justin burned in JC’s gut. He’d known the kid for an hour, but still felt responsible for him. That’s right, JC said to himself. Responsible. That’s it. That’s all.[ He went to the bedroom and pulled out a set of clothes. I just feel responsible for him for some reason. I don’t feel anything else.

A movement out the window caught JC’s eyes. He peered through the curtain, watching as Justin bathed at the horse trough. The boy had taken off his shirt, showing a thin but well-defined young body, one as fit as could be expected. JC watched as Justin dipped his head in the trough, then used the bar of soap to lather up his hair. Water and suds dripped down the boy’s arms, sliding down his back to wet the cotton pants he was wearing, showing JC a sculpted backside under the trousers. JC groaned as Justin bent again to rinse his hair, stretching the material taut across his ass. Responsible, he vowed again. That’s all you feel.

JC caught his reflection in the mirror over the washstand. “You’re a liar,” he told his reflection.

His reflection nodded back.



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