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Albie looked Percy up and down. “You’re on your own?”
Percy nodded and ran his hand through his hair, trying to straighten it some. “I am. I’m eighteen, a grown man, and I’m a hard worker. I have my own horse, and I’d be no trouble.”
Albie stared, and what he was thinking, Percy had no clue.
“I’ve got some errands to run today,” he said, dusting his hands on his pants. “I best get them done.” And with that, he turned and walked out.
Percy gave Bandit a frown. “Had to try, didn’t I?”
Percy would rather not eat at all if it meant he didn’t have to sell his horse. He refused to even consider it. Bandit was all he had in the world, and he’d be damned if he ever went back to his family with his tail between his legs.
Bandit snorted and nodded his head up and down. At least it drew a smile out of Percy.
“Yeah, you and me,” he said. “We’ll be okay. Even if we have to sleep under the stars. And if you eat grass, it can’t be that bad. Maybe I could try it?—”
He felt eyes on him, so he turned and found Albie at the stable doors. “Forgot my wallet,” he said, coming back in.
He went into his stall and came back out a moment later, patting his pocket down. “So,” he said, that dangerous smile on his handsome face. “You talk to your horse often?”
“All the time,” Percy admitted. “He’s a real good listener. Never complains.”
Albie’s smile grew enough to show his teeth. He licked his bottom lip, and Percy had to blink again. He cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his shirt. “I’ll let you get to running your errands,” Percy said, and it was Percy who walked out this time, the fresh air enough to clear his mind.
Dangerous thoughts, indeed.
It wasn’t proper to think of men that way. At least not in front of them. He could save his dirty thoughts for later, in the privacy of his room.
Of sun-kissed skin and syrup-coloured eyes, of a crooked smile.
And with a deep breath, he went back down to the bullock yards, hoping to score himself a few shillings for mucking out.
* * *
Percy didn’t think much else of Albie Bramwell that day until he got back to the saloon. He was filthy dirty and starving hungry, so he set about washing up before he went in search of food. The boarding rooms above the saloon were small and mostly bare. A single bed and a dresser with a basin on top, jugs of water to be collected from the communal laundry-washroom.
His shirt was splattered with bullock dung, so he took it off and washed his face, cleaning himself up the best he could. His pants were a mess, but the least he could do was wash his shirt. And when that was done, he took the basin of filthy water to dispose of in the washroom. He walked out of his room and ran smack-bang into Albie Bramwell. The dirty water splashed his shirt.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Percy said, taking a step back, trying not to spill any more water. He held the basin with one arm and stupidly tried to pat Albie’s shirt.
Albie took his wrist and stopped him. “Ah, it’s... it’s okay,” he said, brushing himself.
“No, it’s dirty water. If you need me to clean your shirt, I’ve just washed mine so it’s no bother?—”
“I didn’t bring a spare,” Albie said. “I’m only staying one night. Be gone in the morning. It’s fine. It’ll dry.” Then he made a face. “Well, it’ll stink, but it’ll dry.”
Percy felt bad. “I am sorry. I was mucking out the bullock lots, and it’s messy work, so I wanted to clean up before I ate something. The saloon cook will hunt me out if I stink up her kitchen.”
Albie did that dangerous smirk again. “It’s fine. And I know the cook. She’s not that mean. The barmaid, on the other hand... She’s the one to watch.”
Percy smiled at him. He was actually talking to him, joking even. He felt like a foolish boy in the company of this man, and it was unnerving. He felt a lot of things in the company of this man that were unnerving...
“Do you always leave your room without a shirt?” Albie asked.
Percy looked down at himself. He was wearing an undershirt. It wasn’t like he had no shirt on at all. He was about to say as much when he noticed Albie smiling. “I’ll be sure to dress appropriately when I go downstairs,” Percy said.
Albie smirked, pulled his hat down, and brushed past him. “See that you do.”
Percy stood in the hallway, his heart hammering, his belly full of butterflies. The water in his basin sloshed a little and it reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing.
