Inherit the Sky (Lang Downs 1 ) (7 page)

He flushed slightly as he remembered Macklin’s comment at dinner. “Is he gay?” he asked impulsively. “If I were at home and someone made a comment like the one he made about the bedroom stuff being John’s fault rather than mine, I’d swear it was a pick-up line, but he can’t seriously be thinking like that about me, can he?” If he were, Caine would be over the moon, but that wouldn’t be realistic. A man like Macklin, all self-assurance and physical mastery, wouldn’t want anything to do with plain, bookish Caine Neiheisel, who couldn’t string a sentence together without stuttering half the time and didn’t know what to do with his hands and feet the rest of the time.

M
ACKLINpounded on Caine’s door at what Caine considered an absolutely ungodly hour, but Caine figured the man was used to getting up with the sun. He only hoped that meant they slept a little later in the winter. He wasn’t going to hold his breath, though.

He put on his new jeans and boots along with a T-shirt and light sweater, stuffing the rest of his gear in his backpack and stumbling down to breakfast in the same café where they’d eaten the night before. Fortunately the coffee was strong and fresh, which helped perk Caine up a bit.

Macklin didn’t try to make conversation, much to Caine’s relief. He doubted he could have strung together a complete sentence anyway. When they finished eating, Macklin pointed toward the door. “I’ll meet you in the car park in fifteen minutes. Will that give you enough time?”

“That’s fine,” Caine said with another yawn, wishing he had a travel mug so he could get a cup of coffee to go. He should have picked up a thermos or something at the store, but he hadn’t thought about it. Maybe there would be an extra one at the station.

Caine nodded vaguely and climbed the stairs again, feeling even more worn out today than he had the day before. He thought the jet lag was supposed to get easier, but it only seemed to be getting worse, not a propitious start to his tenure in Australia. He checked the bathroom once more to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything and lugged his

backpack and shopping bags down the stairs. Macklin took one of the bags from him without speaking, leading Caine back to the parking area and the Jeep. The silence stretched as they tossed Caine’s belongings in the back next to Macklin’s one small rucksack. Caine wondered if he should be embarrassed by the sheer quantity of his things next to Macklin’s, but he reminded himself Macklin had only packed for a night, whereas Caine had packed—and purchased—for a lifetime.

They stopped at a gas station before leaving town, reminding Caine once again how far they had to go and how cut off they would be once they got there. “What do you do for gas at the station?”

“We have a petrol tank that we fill once or twice a year,” Macklin replied. “We mostly use it for getting into town and for the generators when the power goes out. Most of the work is done on foot or on horseback and with the dogs. Too many places even a ute can’t go.”

“A ute?” Caine asked.
“A truck,” Macklin clarified, “with a flat bed behind it.” “Oh, a pickup,” Caine said.
“Blow-in,” Macklin replied, but his voice was more teasing than

critical.
“I’ll learn,” Caine swore. “Give me a few weeks and I’ll have all
your slang figured out.”
“You know,” Macklin said, heading out of town and back onto
the highway, “I almost believe you.”
It was the best compliment Caine had gotten since he arrived in
Australia.

A
N HOUR later, they pulled off the main road. “Last chance to back out,” Macklin joked. “From here on out, it’s nothing but you and the outback.”

“What are we waiting for?” Caine asked, the relatively easy camaraderie of the morning having eased his fears from the day before. He was sure they weren’t done with misunderstandings and

confrontations, but as long as they had times like this morning spent in comfortable silence or pleasant conversation, Caine figured he’d live with the rest, and as they got to know each other better, maybe those moments of tension would come less often.

“Not a thing, pup,” Macklin said, “except for you to open that gate so I can drive through.”
“S-s-sorry,” Caine said, not having realized Macklin would expect him to help. “I d-didn’t know.” He jumped out of the Jeep and opened the gate, waiting until Macklin drove through so he could latch it behind them. He ran back and climbed in.
“Don’t give me that beaten-down look,” Macklin scolded as he drove on. “I wasn’t yelling at you. No reason for you to get upset. If you get upset at every correction or suggestion, you aren’t going to last long out here.”
“I’ll learn,” Caine said again, more fiercely this time, as he cursed his stutter silently. Nobody ever had to guess if he was nervous or upset because his voice gave him away instantly.
Macklin let it go at that, steering the Jeep across the open pastureland, a rutted dirt path the only indication now of where they were going. Caine grabbed the armrest on the door as they bounced along, the bumps jarring him even at the much slower speed. If he had this to look forward to for the next four hours, he was going to arrive at Lang Downs so sore he wouldn’t be able to walk.
“This part of the road is used by the heavy delivery trucks so it gets torn up a lot faster than the roads deeper in the station,” Macklin said, seeing Caine’s distress. “Taylor doesn’t bother maintaining it more because it’s a lost cause. Once we get past the next gate, it won’t be quite so rough.”
Caine hoped that was true because he’d hit his head on the roof twice already, even with his seatbelt in place. “And on Lang Downs?” he asked.
“We’d never let a road get in this condition,” Macklin said, his pride in his home so clear in his voice that Caine felt his heart beat a little faster.