Starlight and Sawdust

“Wow,” Arlo breathed, his voice hoarse. “That was…”

“Yeah,” Caleb agreed, unable to find a better word. His brain felt like mush, his body boneless and sated.

They lay like that for a long moment, just breathing, coming down from the high. Caleb’s mind was blissfully blank, the only thing in his world the warmth of Arlo’s body against his.

Eventually, Arlo shifted, turning in Caleb’s arms to face him. “Caleb,” he started, his voice tentative.

Caleb’s stomach clenched. He knew that tone, knew what it meant. Arlo was going to want to talk about what had just happened, was going to want to define it, dissect it.

Caleb wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t know what this meant, didn’t know what he wanted it to mean.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice rough. “Not now.”

Arlo studied him for a long moment, his eyes searching Caleb’s face. Finally, he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement. “Okay,” he said softly, his hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair off Caleb’s forehead. “Not now.”

Caleb turned his face into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed. He knew he was being a coward, knew he was putting off the inevitable. But right now, in this moment, all he wanted was to hold Arlo close, to pretend that the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Tomorrow would come soon enough, with all its complications and questions. For tonight, he just wanted this—this warmth, this closeness, this fragile peace they’d found in the aftermath of the fire.

He tightened his arm around Arlo’s waist, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Arlo sighed, his body relaxing against Caleb’s, his arm draping over Caleb’s hip.

They fell asleep like that, tangled together in the hay, the scent of smoke and sex hanging heavy in the air.

Caleb woke to the smell of smoke and the sound of someone clearing their throat. He cracked an eye open, squinting against the morning light streaming in through the barn door. Arlo was sitting up beside him, his back to Caleb, his shoulders hunched.

“Morning,” Caleb rasped, his voice still rough with sleep.

Arlo jumped, glancing over his shoulder. “Oh, hey,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Caleb pushed himself up, wincing as his body protested the movement. He was stiff and sore, his muscles aching from the previous day’s exertion. And from other things, if the pleasant ache in his ass was any indication.

He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and he kept his gaze carefully averted from Arlo’s. “No worries,” he said, reaching for his clothes. “We should get up anyway. Check on the damage.”

“Right.” Arlo nodded, still not looking at him. “Good idea.”

They dressed in silence, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Caleb could feel Arlo’s eyes on him, but every time he glanced over, Arlo looked away.

He wasn’t sure what to say, how to bridge the gap that seemed to have opened up between them overnight. He knew he should probably apologize for cutting Arlo off the night before, for shutting down the conversation before it could even start. But the words stuck in his throat, held back by a lifetime of habit.

They made their way out of the barn, blinking against the bright morning sun. The air was still hazy with smoke, the acrid smell clinging to the back of Caleb’s throat. He could see the blackened fields stretching out before them, the charred skeletons of trees dotting the landscape.

“It’s worse than I thought,” Arlo said softly, coming to stand beside him.

Caleb nodded, his jaw clenched. “Could have been a lot worse,” he said. “We were lucky.”

“Yeah.” Arlo rubbed at the back of his neck, his gaze distant. “Lucky.”

They stood in silence for a long moment, the weight of what they’d been through—and what they’d done—hanging heavy between them. Caleb opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, but before he could get a word out, Hank came riding up on his ATV.

“Boss,” he said, his voice grim. “We’ve got a problem.”

Caleb’s stomach clenched. “What kind of problem?”

“The fire,” Hank said. “It’s not out. The wind shifted, and it’s coming back this way.”

Caleb’s heart leaped into his throat. “What?” he demanded. “I thought the firefighters had it contained.”

“They did,” Hank said. “But the wind picked up overnight. It jumped the fire line.”

Caleb turned, his gaze going to the horizon. Sure enough, he could see the telltale column of smoke rising in the distance, closer than it had been yesterday.

“Fuck,” he swore, spinning back to Hank. “How long do we have?”

“Not long,” Hank said. “A couple of hours, maybe less.”

Caleb nodded, his mind already racing. “Get the hands together,” he said. “We need to move the herd again, get them as far north as we can.”

Hank nodded, already turning his ATV around. “On it.”

As Hank rode off, Caleb turned to Arlo. “You need to get your equipment packed up,” he said. “Anything you can’t replace, get it loaded into the truck.”

Arlo nodded, his face pale but determined. “What about you?”

“I’m going to help Hank with the herd,” Caleb said. “As soon as you’re done, come find us. We could use an extra set of eyes.”

“Right.” Arlo hesitated, then reached out, his hand coming to rest on Caleb’s arm. “Be careful,” he said, his voice soft.

Caleb’s heart clenched at the touch, at the concern in Arlo’s eyes. He wanted nothing more than to pull him close, to take comfort in his presence. But there wasn’t time.

“I will,” he said, his voice gruff. “You too.”

With that, he turned, jogging toward the north pasture. He could hear Arlo moving behind him, heading for the equipment shed, but he didn’t look back.

The next few hours passed in a blur of activity. Caleb and Hank and the rest of the hands worked quickly, moving the herd to the farthest corner of the north pasture, as far from the approaching fire as they could get. The cattle were skittish, the smoke and the tension in the air putting them on edge, but they managed to get them settled without too much trouble.

Caleb kept one eye on the horizon the whole time, watching as the column of smoke grew thicker, darker. The air was getting hotter, the wind picking up, carrying with it the sound of the fire, the roar of it as it devoured everything in its path.

He’d just finished checking on the last of the herd when he heard the sound of an engine. He turned to see Arlo’s truck bouncing across the field toward him.

Arlo pulled up beside him, rolling down the window. “I got everything loaded,” he said. “The rest of the equipment is replaceable.”

Caleb nodded, his gaze going past Arlo to the horizon. The fire was closer now, close enough that he could see the flames, the orange glow of them against the blue sky. “Good,” he said. “We need to go. Now.”

Arlo’s eyes widened as he followed Caleb’s gaze. “Jesus,” he breathed.

“Yeah.” Caleb jogged around to the passenger side, climbing into the cab. “Let’s go.”

Arlo hit the gas, the truck lurching forward. They bounced across the field, the terrain rough and uneven, but Arlo didn’t slow down, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

Caleb kept his eyes on the fire, watching as it crept closer, the flames leaping from tree to tree, consuming everything in their path. He could feel the heat of it even through the truck’s windows, could hear the crackle of it over the sound of the engine.

“We’re not going to make it,” Arlo said, his voice tight.

“We’ll make it,” Caleb said, his jaw clenched. “Just keep driving.”

They hit the road, Arlo flooring it, the truck’s engine roaring in protest. Caleb twisted in his seat, watching behind them as the fire advanced, the flames licking at the edge of the field they’d just left.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Arlo chanted, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “It’s gaining on us.”

“Just keep going,” Caleb said. “Don’t slow down.”

They careened around a corner, the truck’s tires skidding on the gravel. Caleb braced himself against the dashboard, his heart in his throat.

“We’re going to make it,” he said, as much to himself as to Arlo. “We’re going to—”

The fire hit the road behind them, the flames sweeping across the asphalt, cutting off their escape. Arlo slammed on the brakes, the truck skidding to a halt.

“Fuck!” he shouted, pounding his hands on the steering wheel.

Caleb sat back in his seat, his heart pounding. They were trapped, the fire closing in on them from all sides.

“We’re going to have to make a run for it,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm.