Prologue by S Red

Author:S Red [Red, S]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-09-19T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Over the next few days, Will found himself overwhelmingly aware of John. When they were in the same room, the side of Will's body closest to John somehow felt warmer, even if John was a halfa-dozen steps away. When they were apart, Will's thoughts constantly turned to John, wondering what he was doing and how he was feeling. Occasionally, they strayed further still, to what John might be planning for the two of them, but Will always shied away from deliberately considering the possibilities.

Though he did notice that John was touching him more. Nothing intimate, just a friendly hand on the shoulder when they greeted in the morning, or fingers brushing against Will's when he passed him something over the table. Minor touches that could've been Will's imagination, but weren't. As impossible as it was, Will somehow felt John's touch on his skin hours after the actual contact occurred. While John went to his cave, Will made a considerable amount of progress with his cellar. He was getting tired of the slow pace dictated by the need to hide the extra dirt from lawmen that might never come and decided that, even if it took a while to get rid of the dirt itself, he could at least finish with the digging. With that goal in mind, he managed to empty out the planned cellar area in just a couple of hours, though he filled every empty pot, 107

cup, bowl, bag, and box in the house in the process. When John returned, a surprisingly large number of bags in hand, Will was in the process of carrying containers full of dirt to the hog pen.

"Been busy?" John asked with raised eyebrows.

"Cellar's dug." Will dumped several pounds of dirt out of his stewpot. "Caves as you left them?"

"Yep." John followed Will into the house and dropped his bags at the door. When Will turned around with a couple of bowls of dirt, he found John staring around the room in disbelief.

"I just wanted to get finished," Will said gruffly.

"I see." John stepped forward and dropped something on the table before picking up the saucepan. "You're washing these dishes." Will didn't answer, his eyes caught by the something that John had dropped. The something that looked suspiciously like stack of bills, even thicker than the stack John had brought when he'd first arrived. "John?"

"You don't think I left it all in one place, did you?" John asked with a touch of defensiveness.

"And –," he let out a gust of air, "and I know where my gang saved theirs, too. Those that saved it, anyway – outlaws aren't usually known for being good with money."

Will didn't know what to say. Hell, he didn't even know what to think. With the money from the sale of his cattle somewhere between the buyer's bank and Will's own, Will and John were living almost entirely on the money John had first brought. Will hadn't forgotten that it was stolen money, but he'd managed to push that fact to the 108

back of his mind.

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