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“Thank you.”
“Plus, my son and I are trusting you in this house five days a week, and with me stuck in this bed, there’s nothing stopping you from robbing me blind. But neither of us thinks you will. Don’t think Michael would have hired you if he thought otherwise. So whatever the reason for McBride kicking you out, it don’t affect our relationship.”
Josiah blinked hard, so sick of crying over this. “I’m glad. I enjoy it here. The job isn’t for everyone, but I love what I do.”
“Even if I can be a grouchy old coot sometimes?”
“Even then.”
Elmer chuckled. “Come on, then, let’s finish up this exercise crap.Bonanzais about to come on.”
“Yes, sir.”
Josiah worked on Elmer’s arms and shoulders as the theme song for the old Western show came blaring over the television. He tried to watch it with Elmer sometimes, but it didn’t always hold his attention. It had a set cast of characters, but you didn’t see them every episode. Some of the episodes seemed like they were about completely different people with the sheriff making a cameo at the end.
Oh well. Elmer loved it, and that’s what mattered most.
After Josiah declared the session over, Elmer groaned his appreciation and focused wholly on the TV. Josiah put the lotion away, checked the catheter bag for fullness, then went to wash his hands in the kitchen. The chicken and potatoes in the slow cooker had been going for about an hour, but the herbs already scented the room with a lovely fragrance of thyme and rosemary. A whole chicken would give them plenty of meat for sandwiches for the rest of the week.
As he dried his hands on a kitchen towel, a weird feeling hit him in the gut. Josiah used to do this exact same thing for Seamus: slow-cook a chicken or roast on Sunday, so he’d have plenty of lunch leftovers for the rest of the week. Maybe today was Monday, but it was the same damned habit. Anger burbled up inside him—anger directed not just at himself and his stupid habits, but also at Seamus for being an abusive asshole, and at the world at large for taking his parents and Andy away from him.
The anger urged him to pick up the slow cooker and toss it out the backdoor, to get rid of it and that stupid habit.
But he loved his slow cooker. It had been the first adult equipment he’d bought during nursing school, so he’d always have something to eat, and he didn’t care he’d found it at a thrift store for five bucks. It had carried him through the last six years of his life, and he wouldn’t let Seamus’s assholery steal it from him. Seamus had already stolen enough.
Josiah checked his phone, stupidly hoping for a text from Seamus. Anything to explain his bizarre behavior. Sure, Seamus had been emotionally distant this past week, but he’d never truly been emotionally available, either. He’d still demanded sex regularly. Shoved hard and squeezed too tight. Josiah’s ribs were still sore from the other night when Seamus demanded he leave the room after sex, then shoved Josiah to the floor before he could leave on his own. Josiah had bounced off the corner of the dresser and lost his breath.
He should have known they were creeping toward the end of things; he just hadn’t expected it to end quite like it had.
Thank God for the Pearces, or Josiah probably would have slept in his car Friday night, and who knows where on Saturday? But Michael had welcomed him into his home, given him a place to stay, and gotten his stuff back, and all he expected in return was for Josiah to pay rent. It didn’t seem real, and Josiah still didn’t completely trust it, not even after Michael declined his offer of sex, but he wanted to. To trust Michael.
Because Josiah liked it here. He was comfortable with these two men—which was exactly why he needed to be careful. Everyone he cared about was either taken from him, or they sent him away. As much as he liked Michael—probably more than he should—he had to protect himself first.
He wasn’t sure his heart could survive any more breaks before it shattered completely.
The rest of the week took on a familiar, comforting pattern for Michael that was almost too domestic. He greeted Josiah in the morning before work, did his job out at Woods Ranch, and came home to a hot supper waiting, either new or heated leftovers. Every night, Michael invited Josiah to eat supper with them, but Josiah refused and took his plate out to the trailer. He really wished Josiah would join them one night.
But was that a good idea? Josiah was an employee, but didn’t that technically stop at five thirty when his shift was over? Didn’t seem to matter to Josiah, who left as soon after that time as possible, unless Michael was running a few minutes behind. He tried not to be, though, because Michael enjoyed the few minutes they managed to chat in the morning and evening.
Sometimes after dinner, he’d catch Josiah sitting on the trailer stoop, often reading but other times staring out at the horizon. Michael had invited him to sit up on the porch where they had more comfortable wicker chairs, but Josiah preferred keeping his distance when he was off the clock. He didn’t take it personally. The poor guy was only a week past being kicked out by McBride, and everyone handled trauma differently.
Still, he wished Josiah would talk to him about something more personal than Dad’s daily urinary output.
On the plus side, Dad had graduated to sitting up on the edge of his bed for about five minutes at a time, which Josiah said was great progress. And he wanted Michael to help Dad with that over the weekend, too, which Michael promptly agreed to do. Dad groused at Michael more when he had to do caregiving things for him, but Michael was his son. Josiah was a nurse being paid to wipe Dad’s ass.
“Do you have any plans for the weekend?” Michael asked Josiah while the younger man fixed himself a plate from his latest slow cooker meal. They’d have enough leftovers for tomorrow, and then Michael could easily cobble something together for Sunday with what they had in the fridge.
“Um, not really.” Josiah carefully replaced the slow cooker’s lid and balanced the gravy-covered spoon on the stove’s spoon rest. “I suppose I’ll hang around and read.”
“Really? You should go do something. Get out of the house for a few hours. Maybe drive out to Littleton and see a movie.” They had the only working drive-in theater in a dozen counties, and Michael remembered so many trips there as a child.
“I don’t know.” His cheeks darkened. “I’m not used to making my own plans.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Most grown men can do what they want, within reason. I just...got out of the habit with Seamus. I did what he wanted.”
Michael dug his thumbnail into his palm to keep his annoyance at bay. “Well, the good news is he’s out of the picture, and you’re free to live your life as you see fit. Do what you want. Go get a burger at the Roost. Go to a movie or a museum, or just walk around the town park. You don’t need anyone’s permission anymore.”
