“Please, just Mike,” I insisted, shaking his hand. “And thank you both for all this. You really should be enjoying your honeymoon right now.”
Lucas shook my hand next. “The honeymoon can wait. Sagebrush needs us right now.”
“Still,” I said, “it’s incredibly generous of you.”
“It’s what neighbors do,” Beau replied simply, handing me a box of canned goods. “Besides, I think Mabel might’ve skinned us both if we ran off while everyone else was sufferin’.”
We continued unloading the truck, making small talk as we carried boxes into the church storage room. Lucas told me about the people they’d put up in their rental cabins instead of taking paying customers. And Beau mentioned he’d had his slow cooker running nearly nonstop since the wedding trying to help feed everyone. They were doing the work, that was for sure.
“By the way,” I said as we set down the last of the boxes, “do either of you happen to know Cash Callahan? He’s staying at my place until he can get his ranch sorted out.”
Beau’s eyebrows shot up. “Cash is back in town? I haven’t seen him since high school.”
“You know him then?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“Sure do,” Beau nodded, leaning against the wall. “He was a few years behind me in school. Quiet kid, kept to himself mostly. Then one day he was just... gone. His daddy told everyone he went to live with his mother’s family, but there were always rumors, especially when nobody heard from him again.”
“Rumors?” I couldn’t help myself from asking.
Beau glanced at Lucas, then back at me. “Well, word was James caught him with another boy and kicked him out. But nobody knew for sure, and it wasn’t the kind of thing people talked about openly back then.”
My heart sank. So that’s what had happened. Cash had been thrown out for being gay, just like he’d implied to Brooks. No wonder he was so angry.
“That’s... terrible,” I said quietly.
“It was,” Beau agreed. “I always wondered what happened to him.” He kicked at the dirt, looking a little uncomfortable. “I wish I’d been braver back then to stand up for people.” He glanced up at me. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s...” I hesitated, not sure how to describe Cash’s state of mind. “He’s had a rough time. The tornado destroyed his father’s house completely that he just inherited. He seems pretty determined to sell the property and leave town as soon as possible.”
“Can’t say I blame him,” Lucas chimed in. “If that had happened to me, I wouldn’t be eager to stick around either.”
I nodded, thinking about how Cash had snapped at Brooks, how he’d bristled at every attempt to help him. It all made more sense now.
“Well, if you see him, tell him Beau says hello,” Beau said, clapping me on the shoulder. “And that he’s welcome at our place anytime. We’ve got plenty of room if he needs somewhere to stay.”
“I’ll let him know,” I promised, though I doubted Cash would take them up on the offer. He seemed determined to avoid connections of any kind. “And I apologize if it seems like I’m searching for gossip. He just seems so upset and I want to help. But I’ll confess, this time I’m not really sure how to do that.”
“I understand,” Beau replied with a sympathetic nod. “Some wounds run deep. Sometimes all you can do is be there.”
I shifted uncomfortably, thinking about exactly how I’d beentherefor Cash. By spying on him in the shower like some kind of pervert.
“Well, we should get going,” Lucas said, checking his watch. “We’ve got a few more deliveries to make.”
After they left, I found myself wandering back to my office, my mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts. Cash had been thrown out for being gay, and then what? Where had he gone? What had he endured in those years between then and now? The image of him standing in my kitchen, his face inches from mine as he made that shocking suggestion, played on repeat in my head.
When I returned to the parsonage that evening, the house was quiet. Cash’s boots were by the door, so I knew he was home. My heart raced as I moved through the hallway, wondering if I’d find him in the kitchen or living room, if we’d have to acknowledge what had happened between us three days ago.
Instead, I found a note on the kitchen counter, written in a hasty scrawl:
Made pasta. Leftovers in fridge. Gone to bed early.
Relief and disappointment warred in my chest. On one hand, I wasn’t ready to face him yet. On the other, the anticipation was killing me. I heated up the pasta. It was simple, but good, and ate alone at the kitchen table, rehearsing conversations in my head that I knew I’d never have the courage to initiate.
After dinner, I showered quickly, careful to close and lock the door in case he thought I was trying to tempt him. As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t stop thinking about Cash. About his proposition. About what Beau had told me.
I wanted to help him heal, but I also wanted him in ways that were completely inappropriate for someone in my position. The conflict was tearing me apart. Not only that, but I knew I was feeding into old habits. Saving people was great to do as a pastor, but probably not the best thing when it came to sexual partners. Then again, I was just a pastor to Cash… so maybe it was okay.
Sleep eluded me for the better part of an hour. Finally, with an irritated sigh, I kicked the covers aside and got up, snatchinga book from the shelf. If I couldn’t sleep, I could at least do something productive. I headed out to the living room, clicked on a lamp, and flopped onto the couch.
