Page 62 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
After the debrief, the team relocated their gear and vehicles to the meadow for their party and the pilot flew his helicopter home. Beau had gone straight into the shower to clean up so now that he was fresh and crisp, I could finally ask what had happened.
“What’s going on with Dylan?”
His jaw clenched tight as he shook his head. “He’s a fucking fool. He wanted to take the team up a ridge that would have trapped us against a cliff. We got into it and I overruled him. He’s pissed but I don’t give a fuck. I’m reporting him as soon as I get back to town.”
“That guy’s a douchebag,” Michael called from the kitchen. “Hey, can I have some of this Crown?”
“Go ahead,” Beau and I said in unison, smiling at his brother.
Michael’s playful nature was such a contrast from Beau’s seriousness. Beau took on so much with those broad shoulders. I liked that he had someone to give him some lightness.
“You guys ready?” Michael asked, the whiskey tucked securely under his arm
“Ready,” Beau said.
All I wanted was to snuggle up with Beau and let him curl me into his arms, but with Michael sharing the outpost’s floor space, that wasn’t going to be an option until his next visit. That was, if Beau didn’t deem our kiss a mistake and stop spending the night again.
The three of us strolled outside and I took care to appreciate the beautiful scenery. The late evening sun was setting behind the mountains as we emerged into the meadow. With the sky above us darkening to navy and the horizon glowing gold, it felt like the heavens were smiling good night.
In the center of the meadow, the bonfire was burning tall. The crew had built a ring of stones in the circle where the helicopter had landed. The grasses were still plastered to the earth, making a smooth surface for the party’s gathering point. Branches and small logs from the forest were piled in small clumps between groups of visiting men.
Men who were substantially cleaner than they had been earlier. How had that happened? Their faces were fresh and most had wet hair. Their protective outer layers, which had been covered in soot and filth, had been stripped away to mostly clean T-shirts and utility pants.
“Where did they clean—never mind.” In the creek at the far end of the meadow, I saw a young brunette man washing himself in the cold water. “Shouldn’t we tell them they can use the shower at the outpost?” I asked Beau. “That is what it’s there for.”
He shook his head. “I offered but they didn’t want to intrude on your space.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Don’t worry about it, Shortcake. They’re fine.” He threw his arm around my shoulders for a sideways hug. My arm slid behind his waist and rested perfectly against his lower back. Walking with him in this position, like an actual couple, was too nice not to smile about.
We joined the party and I reluctantly let Beau go so he could shake hands with the crew. Most of the young men looked up at him with reverence. Michael wasn’t the only one with stars in his eyes.
“Would you like a drink, ma’am?” A man with shaggy red hair offered me his bottle of gin. I recognized him from the line of men that had been in the outpost filling their canteens in the kitchen sink.
“No, thank you.” Glancing around the bonfire, I realized I wouldn’t be drinking tonight. No one had glasses and I didn’t see a single bottle label that I recognized.
While Beau and Michael visited, I stood between them and people-watched. A couple guys had already laid out their beds on the grass and another was in the process of doing the same. From the bottom of his pack, the man unrolled a green mat, then dug around the inside of the bag to pull out a wool plaid blanket. With a proud smile, he patted his resting place, then stood to join the others.
It was impressive how little these men needed to be comfortable.
I looked to my feet and smiled to myself.
It was impressive how little I needed to be comfortable. Three months ago, I’d likened my time at the outpost to pure torture. Now, I’d be making some changes when I eventually got home.
My life in Seattle would be simpler, better, if I downsized a bit. My closet needed to be cleaned out and clothes sent to charity. I would do a better job of cooking for myself rather than constantly eating out. I might even consider finding a smaller, less extravagant apartment.
“Holt!” My attention snapped back to the party when a man summoned Beau over to his group.
“Be right back,” Beau told me and Michael.
With his brother out of earshot, Michael asked, “So what happened with Dylan? Beau just gave us the high level.”
The three men in our group shared knowing glances. The redhead stood between two black men that I’d learned were cousins. I’d already forgotten their names so I’d silently granted them all nicknames. Red, for the ginger. Tall Cousin and Short Cousin, for obvious reasons.
“It was bad,” Tall Cousin said. “Dylan took a swing at Beau.”
“Fuck,” Michael hissed at the same time my mouth fell open.
