Chapter Nine
When Colin hauled himself into the saddle the next morning, he had to bite his lip to stop from gasping at the discomfort in his thighs and backside. He hoped as the days went on, his body would become accustomed to being on horseback for so many hours.
He could also feel a slight tenderness inside him where Patrick’s fingers had explored, and a little thrill ran up his spine as he remembered. He wondered how it would feel after having Patrick’s cock inside him, and he had to stop that train of thought as his trousers tightened.
A few hours into their travels, Colin noticed some cattle near the horizon. He rode up to Robbie. “Whose cows are those?”
“Owner’s name is Jackson. We’re on his station. Hasn’t finished the fence yet.”
“Really? This is all his land?”
Robbie chuckled. “Been on his land since yesterday.”
Colin couldn’t conceive of owning so much property. “And he doesn’t mind?”
“As long as we don’t poach his herd, nah. He owns the store, and your Mrs. Grant will be shelling out.”
“Will we be there soon?”
“Not long now.”
Colin hoped Robbie’s idea of “not long” was the same as his. As they rode on, he noticed a dog watching their progress from atop a boulder. “What’s he doing out here all alone?”
Robbie followed Colin’s gaze. “Wild dog. Dingoes, we call ’em.”
“Are they dangerous?” It looked not unlike dogs Colin had encountered in England.
“Can be. Gotta watch your sheep and chickens if dingoes are about, that’s for sure. But they’re pets to some folks. If they’re raised with people, they can be just like any other dog. Depends, I suppose.”
Colin watched the animal with interest. He spotted a few more in the distance, but the dingoes didn’t seem interested in approaching. On the other side of a rise, Colin could see two one-story buildings in the distance. It was the first sign of civilization since they had left Sydney, and Colin welcomed it gratefully.
The simple, clean general store was operated by a man and woman, both very dark-skinned and with broad features. Colin tried not to stare, and he noticed Patrick and Emily also sneaking glances. Coming from rural England and Ireland, they’d never seen anyone who wasn’t Caucasian.
Emily instructed the couple to outfit Colin and Patrick with everything they needed to be stockmen. Soon they each had several pairs of rugged canvas trousers and long-sleeved shirts, along with various undershirts and garments. They were each given brown leather hats with wide brims in a roundish shape and long, matching coats, along with sturdy boots.
As Robbie put in an order for food supplies, Colin found himself by a shelf that held paper and ink supplies. He fingered one of the sheets longingly.
“Did you want some paper?” Emily stood behind him.
“Oh, I was just looking.” Colin felt as if he’d been caught doing something wrong for some strange reason. “Although I would like to write my cousin and sister. I’m not sure how the mail works here, but I assume they have a system.”
She looked at him for a long moment, her expression strange. “Yes, I assume they do. Pick out whatever you need.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Grant.” Colin smiled, and Emily nodded in reply and turned away.
Colin was sorry to say good-bye to the little outpost, but soon they were back on their way, driving the herd ever onward.
That night after dinner, Robbie stared up at the sky. Colin had noticed him doing the same the night before. He approached and cleared this throat. “Admirer of the constellations?”
“You could say that. They keep us on the right path, straight and true.”
“You use them for navigation?”
“That’s right. I’ve never been as far as we’re headed, so the stars have to guide us.”
Colin gazed up. The night sky was different on this side of the world, and out in the wild, the stars seemed to blaze far more brightly than they did in England somehow. “A thousand miles. I can’t believe we’re going that far.” A thought occurred to Colin. “What will be waiting for us?”
“Mr. Grant commissioned a big house and some outbuildings. Hope they’re built by the time we get there.”
“Big house?”
“Where the owner and his family lives.”
“And a station is like a farm.”
Robbie chuckled. “I suppose. A very, very large farm. Some are thousands of square miles.”
Colin thought of his home in England and how proud his parents were of their few acres. “I can’t imagine owning that much land.”
“Well, the likes of us likely won’t have to worry about that. I’ll spend my life working for the landowners. You might too, if you’re lucky. Get a ticket-of-leave so you can work and travel around. Maybe even a certificate of freedom if you play your cards right.”
“I didn’t know such things existed. How do you earn them?”
“Just mind yourself and be a model prisoner, I reckon.” Robbie returned Colin’s smile. “So far I’d say you’re doing well.”
Colin thought about the possibility of earning his freedom the rest of the day and eagerly told Patrick after dinner. Patrick listened carefully but was less optimistic. “We’ll see. You can’t get your hopes up. Remember, we’ve been here less than a week. Still plenty of sentence to serve first.”
Although he knew Patrick was right, Colin couldn’t help but remain hopeful that one day he’d be a free man again. Yet when he thought about what exactly he might do as a free man, he was less sure.
That night, Colin took the watch. He leaned against a tree on the far side of the herd and dozed fitfully, waking up at the slightest sound. Although he knew snakes and wild creatures could certainly attack when he slept in camp, out by himself, his imagination ran wild.
Fortunately, he emerged from his watch unscathed, and they moved northward with the cattle. They quickly settled into a comfortable rhythm as the days turned into weeks. Driving the cattle was hard work for all, and Colin often fell asleep after barely finishing his supper.
Emily—still clad in her mourning dress day in, day out—kept to herself and only spoke when necessary. She had begun cooking more of their meals, with varying success. Robbie was always quick to compliment her and at times tried to coax her into conversation, to little avail.
Colin enjoyed Robbie’s company very much, and he was sure Patrick did as well. The trio worked well together, and Robbie was a patient instructor. Colin practiced his roping every chance he got and had begun to snag rocks and bushes. He wasn’t sure how he’d manage on a moving horse, but he was improving.
Whenever they could, Colin and Patrick came together furtively as they had on the ship—giving each other release with hands and mouths. Colin longed to truly lie with Patrick, to be with him and not have to constantly look over their shoulders for fear of being discovered. Colin wasn’t sure what would happen if Robbie or Emily caught them. They were already prisoners, after all. Yet he knew a much worse fate might await them if they were found out.
After a month on the drive, Colin felt more at ease in the saddle than he had ever expected. Robbie was a talented hunter, and they ate a steady supply of game—kangaroo, wallaby (which to Colin’s eyes was simply a smaller kangaroo), and large birds. Colin had regained his strength after the voyage and then some.
From time to time, they came across tribes of Aborigines. The natives regarded them with open curiosity and did not appear hostile, which was a relief. They kept their distance but followed along at times for miles.
Wearing little to cover themselves, Colin imagined their bare feet must be hard as stones on the bottom to travel over the hot earth and rough land. He wondered what they must think of him and his companions and the large beasts they herded. How strange it must be to have foreigners arrive on your shores, unexpected and uninvited.
Colin wrote long letters to William detailing the things he’d seen and done, along with several to Rebecca. Even one to his parents, although it had been short. Colin wasn’t sure when he’d actually be able to mail them, but when he had the time, he enjoyed recording his activities. He could hardly believe how different his life had become.
After traversing countryside that was relatively flat, they eventually encountered terrain that was a great deal hillier. It was a struggle for the cattle and horses to conquer some of the rises, and inconveniently placed trees added to their exertion.
As the cattle stubbornly came to a halt on one such hill on a sunny October afternoon, Robbie instructed Colin to ride ahead and see what was blocking them. Colin stood in the saddle as Mission picked his way up the steep slope. A hundred feet from the crest of the hill, Colin spotted the wagon. It appeared stuck on a rock, and Emily had her shoulder into the wooden vehicle, trying to dislodge it.
Colin urged Mission on faster and called out to her. “Mrs. Grant! Wait, let me help you.”
Emily either couldn’t hear or ignored him, as she still strained to free the wagon wheel from the rock it was caught on. Colin dismounted and tied Mission to a nearby tree. “Mrs. Grant, I can do that.”
“No!” Emily swiped at her hair, which spilled from its knot. Her face was alarmingly flushed. “I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help.”
Colin stayed a few feet away. He’d never seen her so on edge. “Why don’t you drink some water and rest for a moment?”
She shook her head and shoved at the wagon again. Her mourning dress was filthy, and Colin could imagine how sweltering it was with the merciless sun overhead. Her hat was nowhere to be seen. Colin took a step closer. “Please, Mrs. Grant. I’m here to help you, after all.”
Emily spun around and slammed her fists into Colin’s chest with surprising force, shoving him back. “You’re here because that son of a bitch left me alone!” Her shoulders shook, tears spilling down her cheeks. “This was his dream! I was happy in England! We had a good life! Now what do I have?” She threw her arm out and waved it around. “This?”
“I-I’m sorry.” Emily was always so guarded, and Colin was at a loss seeing her undone. He cast about for something else to say. “I remember seeing you with your husband on the ship one day.”
This caught her attention. “You did?” She wiped her cheeks, yet the tears fell unabated.
“Yes. He was making you laugh.”
Of course, it only served to increase her sobs. Colin watched helplessly for a moment and then reached out a tentative hand and drew her close. After momentary resistance, she collapsed against him, head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. Her legs gave out, and they sank to the ground as she wailed her anger and grief.
The sound must have traveled downhill, as Robbie and Patrick thundered up a few minutes later. They dismounted and stopped a few yards away, eyes wide. As Emily’s sobs abated, Patrick passed Colin a canteen, and Colin encouraged her to drink. Robbie handed her a handkerchief, and for the first time since that long-ago day on the ship, Colin saw her smile.
It faded, and fresh guilt and grief welled up and overflowed, and Colin held her for a while longer while Robbie and Patrick set about getting the wagon free. Once they did, Robbie cleared his throat. “We have to get moving, ma’am. I’m sorry, but we must.”
Sniffling, Emily extricated herself from Colin’s arms. “Yes, of course. I apologize for my…outburst.”
The three men awkwardly assured her it was naught, and Colin retrieved Mission as Patrick and Robbie headed back downhill. Seated in the driver’s seat of the wagon again, Emily blew her nose into the handkerchief.
“Just shout if the wagon gets stuck again, Mrs. Grant. Or for anything, if you need to.” Colin wheeled Mission around.
“Colin.”
He looked back over his shoulder and pulled on the reins. It was the first time Emily had called him by name. Or by anything. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You’re not at all what I expected, you know.”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know, honestly. Not a Cambridge man, that’s certain.”
Colin smiled. “Didn’t quite make it to Cambridge, I’m afraid.”
“Lucky for me, Colin. It’s a comfort, having an English gentleman about. You’re very decent and kind.”
Colin felt a warmth in his chest. He found Emily’s opinion meant a great deal to him. “Thank you, Mrs. Grant. If you ever need to talk, I’m happy to listen.”
“Thank you.”
Giving Mission a nudge with his heels, Colin headed back to the herd, and they carried on. Although he knew he was a prisoner and she his captor, it certainly didn’t feel like it. He would like very much to have a new friend.
The next morning when she emerged from the wagon, Emily wore a light blue summer dress of thin material. Robbie simply stared, and Patrick tipped his hat. “You look well this morning, Mrs. Grant.”
“Thank you, Patrick.”
Colin wished her good morning, and she smiled back tentatively. He hoped this day would mark a new beginning for her.
They continued over hilly country for several more days, coming to rest one night on a flat plateau below a rocky peak. The sun hadn’t set yet, but Robbie had determined the rest of the hill too uneven for the cattle and they’d have to go the long away around.
Pleased to be stopping a bit early for the day, Colin hiked up the rest of the way to watch the sunset. He clambered over and between large rocks, and by the time he was at the top, he couldn’t see the camp behind him, as it was hidden behind the boulders. The only thing visible in all directions was the landscape—a foreign terrain of rocky hills, groups of trees, dry grass and shrubs, and flat, red earth in the very distance.
As the sun sank, the air cooled remarkably. Colin ran his hand through his growing hair and looked out over the land peacefully. Someone approached, and he turned to see Patrick stop a few feet away.
Colin smiled. “Isn’t it remarkable?”
“Which aspect in particular?” Patrick’s tone was light.
“All of it. Look at where we’re standing. It’s incredible. Being here. Before you say it, I know we’re prisoners. But I’ve never felt so…at peace.”
“Aye, it suits you, this life.”
“Who would have thought when you were teaching me to ride all those years ago that we’d end up here?”
“Certainly not me when you were running around underfoot.”
Colin chuckled. “My father hated it when I spent all that time with you. I loved it, though.”
“So why’d you stop?” Patrick picked up a stone and tossed it over the edge. “You grew up and had better things to do? It puzzled me.”
Colin weighed whether or not he should tell the truth and figured there was no harm any longer. “You’re going to laugh when I tell you, I bet. You remember that groundskeeper? He was only around a year or so. I don’t recall his name.”
Patrick pondered it for a moment. “Oh, him.” His brow furrowed. “What about him?”
“I saw you with him one day in the stable. It was pouring rain, a great storm. I hid and watched, and afterward I was so ashamed of the desire I felt. It was…very confusing at the time. It seems forever ago now. I couldn’t dream of looking you in the eye after what I saw, so I stayed away.”
Patrick stared with an unreadable expression and said nothing.
Colin laughed, disbelieving. “You’re not angry, are you? I know it was wrong to spy, but I couldn’t help myself.” He smiled ruefully. “I wished it was me you were with. Still do, I suppose.”
For a long moment, their eyes met. Then in two strides, Patrick had Colin’s head in his hands, and he kissed him long and hard, plunging his tongue into Colin’s mouth. After a moment of surprise, Colin kissed him back, shivering with sudden desire as he pulled Patrick closer.
Colin’s head spun as they panted for breath and kissed each other again, tongues invading and exploring. It was the first real kiss he’d ever had, and Colin’s body was absolutely alight. They rubbed against each other, hands everywhere as they kissed with a desperation that had sparked and spread like wildfire.
It was as if a floodgate had opened. Colin wrapped his arms around Patrick’s back, wanting him closer, closer. Patrick kissed him senseless, doing things with his tongue that Colin hadn’t known possible.
“Supper!” Robbie’s shout echoed up.
They tore apart and caught their breath, foreheads pressed together. Colin knew they had to return to camp, but he sought Patrick’s mouth again anyway, hungry for more. To the devil with supper. Patrick cupped Colin’s face in his hand, kissing him deeply. There was another shout, and they groaned in unison, unwilling to stop.
Patrick drew back and gazed at Colin with an expression so tender, it stopped the breath in Colin’s chest. He pressed a last kiss to Colin’s lips and stepped back. Reluctantly, they straightened their clothing. Colin wanted nothing more than to shuck all his garments at once and mate with Patrick on the dusty ground. Yet he knew they mustn’t.
They took their time walking back down to camp. By the time they arrived, their erections had subsided, at least. Robbie gave Colin a strange look but said nothing. They ate in silence aside from the odd comment to compliment Emily on the stew, which was truly much improved.
Colin was consumed with thoughts of what had just happened. Patrick had never kissed him before, not truly. It had felt intimate in a way that even pleasuring each other with their mouths hadn’t. He wasn’t sure how to describe it, but he knew he wanted more. Much, much more.
First he had to suffer through their usual nightly routine. There was no river or stream nearby, so Patrick rinsed the dishes with a small amount of drinking water and stored them in the food crate in the wagon. It had only rained a few times since they’d been on the drive, and with summer upon them, water would be more and more scarce. But for now, they had more than enough.
Emily said good night, and Robbie laid out his canvas bedroll, falling asleep in minutes. It was Patrick’s turn on watch, and he left with his canteen and small pack with snacks if he needed to stay awake. He said nothing to Colin and didn’t even meet his gaze.
After arranging his own bedroll, Colin stretched out and stared up at the night sky, his heart beating rapidly. He hoped Patrick was waiting for him, wanting to kiss him again. Wanting to kiss him forever.
Yet perhaps Patrick regretted it. Colin’s mind raced. He desperately wanted more, and the connection between them had been incredibly intense. Or so he thought—what if it was just in his own mind?
The only sound in the night was of crickets and Robbie’s snores, along with the odd shuffling or mooing from the herd. Colin usually had no trouble sleeping after their long days, but tonight he knew sleep wouldn’t come.
He waited almost an hour before coming to his decision. Creeping slowly, bedroll in hand, he skirted around the herd, careful not to disturb any of the cattle. Patrick leaned against a tree on the far side. He appeared to be sleeping, but as Colin knelt before him, Patrick opened his eyes. “I didn’t think you were coming,” he whispered.
Colin kissed him in response, yanking at Patrick’s stubborn clothing. Patrick laughed softly and unbuttoned Colin’s shirt. He was moving far too slowly for Colin’s liking, and Colin squirmed away, tugging down his own trousers as he pulled Patrick onto the bedroll. Colin got on his hands and knees.
He waited for Patrick to enter him, but instead, Patrick stole a hand below his shirt and caressed his spine. He kissed the back of Colin’s neck. “Shh. Slowly.”
“No, please. Please, Patrick.” Colin didn’t think he could wait another moment without exploding.
With gentle hands, Patrick urged him onto his back and straddled him. Patrick’s shirt hung half-open and his trousers were still buttoned, so Colin reached for the fastenings. Patrick caught his wrists and leaned down to kiss him. “Relax.”
Colin shook his head, and Patrick kissed him again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t care.”
In the moonlight, Patrick gazed down intently, brushing Colin’s growing hair back from his forehead. “I do.”
Patrick pressed their lips together, kissing Colin leisurely. Although he was consumed with the desire to finally lie with Patrick properly, Patrick seemed set on not rushing as he explored Colin’s mouth. Finally Patrick reached for his small satchel. He took out a metal tin and placed it on the ground beside them. Colin was about to ask what it was, but Patrick’s tongue slipped inside his mouth once more. With nimble fingers, Patrick removed the remnants of Colin’s clothing and then his own.
He stretched out over Colin languidly, his lips traveling over Colin’s skin, teasing and caressing. He took one of Colin’s nipples into his mouth, sucking gently, swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh. His fingers drifted down to the soft skin of Colin’s belly, skimming lightly, dipping lower through the thatch of hair but somehow not touching Colin’s cock, which jutted out, hard and leaking.
As Patrick shifted his attention over to the neglected nipple, Colin moaned. “Please. Hurry.”
Patrick ignored him and continued the delicious torture. His mouth traveled southward, and he dipped his tongue into the indent in Colin’s stomach. Patrick’s fingers were light on Colin’s inner thighs, the faint touch unbearable, stoking the fires of his already blazing desire. He tingled from head to toe, and he needed more.
Finally, Patrick relented and straddled Colin once more. He removed the lid and held the tin out for Colin. “Cooking grease. Dip your fingers in.” Colin did as instructed, the thick, viscous oil slick on his skin. Colin smeared the grease over Patrick’s thick, throbbing cock, coating the silky hardness. Patrick pulsed in Colin’s grasp, and Colin’s mouth went dry with anticipation.
Shifting back, Patrick bent Colin’s legs until his feet were flat on the blanket. He scooped some more grease with two of his fingers and slowly penetrated Colin’s hole. First with one finger and then two, Patrick stretched him with measured movements, coating him with the slippery grease.
Colin thought he might spill from that alone and squeezed the base of his cock to calm himself as Patrick slipped his fingers out. Patrick pressed one of Colin’s knees back toward his chest and urged him to wrap his other leg around Patrick’s waist. Colin was open and exposed and very, very excited.
“Breathe,” Patrick whispered as he moved closer, the head of his cock pressing at Colin’s opening.
Taking in a shuddering breath, Colin willed himself to relax as Patrick inched inside. It burned, and Colin’s eyes watered despite himself. Patrick stopped moving, holding still above Colin on his powerful arms. When the pain lessened, Colin urged him on, digging his fingers into Patrick’s lower back.
The sting as Patrick eased into him was mixed with flares of sheer pleasure. Patrick pulled back a few inches and pushed in farther, and Colin gasped as his softening cock twitched back to life.
With infinite patience, Patrick worked all the way inside. Colin could feel Patrick’s bollocks against his ass, and even in the darkness, he could see they were fully joined. He had never felt so full. So complete.
Tears prickled again, and Patrick leaned down to press tender kisses to Colin’s eyelids and cheeks. They kissed, tongues winding together as Colin adjusted to the extraordinary sensation of Patrick inside him. He squeezed experimentally with his inner muscles, and Patrick encouraged him. “That’s it.”
After sliding out several inches, Patrick rocked back in, and Colin moaned. He swore he could see sparks before his eyes as Patrick moved inside him, the burning rub exquisite. Even with the gentle night breeze, sweat beaded on their skin, sticky with the remnants of the grease as their hands caressed.
Patrick took hold of Colin’s leaking cock, stroking it in time with the thrusts of his hips. The lingering pain fused with the pleasure, and Colin had to bite his lip to keep from crying out in ecstasy as Patrick filled him. It was better than he’d ever imagined, and his cock tingled as the pressure built inexorably.
After a few more strokes, Colin spilled onto his chest in long, ropy threads as the fiery pleasure erupted. Patrick had to clap his hand over Colin’s mouth to stifle his cries as Colin shuddered, eyes closed as he experienced a surge of bliss in every pore. With only a few more pumps of his hips and a low groan, Patrick came, hot and wet, deep inside Colin.
Patrick still held his weight on his arms, which trembled slightly as he took a deep breath. He pressed a kiss to the tip of Colin’s nose and pulled out slowly, seeming to take great care. Colin winced and felt a strange emptiness. Patrick stretched out beside him, snaking his arm around Colin’s shoulders. Colin laid his head on Patrick’s chest, utterly content. He could hear Patrick’s heartbeat slow down to normal, and he caressed Patrick’s stomach with his fingertips.
The breeze rustled the leaves overhead, and the cattle nearby made low sounds from time to time. Colin knew he had to go back to camp, that he couldn’t spend the night in Patrick’s arms, as much as he wanted to. He longed for the day they could lie together in a bed. Their bed.
“You should go back.” Patrick’s voice was sleepy and sated. He traced an unknown pattern on Colin’s back with his fingertips.
“I know. Just a few more minutes.”
Patrick stroked Colin’s hair and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He didn’t argue.