Chapter Twenty-One

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“Where are we going after we get through the pass?” Will questioned, rolling onto his stomach.

Turner groaned at the sight of the man’s curved buttocks and forced himself to slide into his shirt, “The ranch,” he replied.

Will’s green eyes widened with surprise, “Are you sure?”

Turner knelt on the narrow mattress and kissed Will tenderly, “I’m sure.”

“What about breakfast?” Will questioned as Turner went to the door and pulled on his boots.

“There’s leftover biscuits,” Turner replied, slipping on his coat and grabbing a biscuit from the basket on the table.

Will made a face, “Stale biscuits?”

“You’ll be fine,” Turner assured him. “I have to go check all my traps and disengage them. I need you to start packing things up around here.”

“What am I packing?” Will asked.

“There are saddlebags in the wardrobe. Fill them with the necessities. Food, matches, clothes.. Fold up the extra blankets as well and have them sitting beside the door. I’ll come back for everything else some other time if we need it.”

Will frowned and sat up. He motioned toward the chest full of Peter’s belongings, “What about that?”

Turner swallowed hard and stared at that dark mahogany chest. He’d held onto those things for three long years and though he would like to hook the small wagon up and take that chest with him, he knew there was no way Bernice or Clyde could pull that through the snow and ice covered pass. The wagon had to stay--and so did the chest.

“Leave it all,” he replied as he shoved his hand through his long dark hair to clear the tangles before plopping his hat on his head, “Just… just get the book out of it. I’d like to take the book.”

“Okay then,” Will sighed, “Are you sure I can’t talk you into getting back in bed and dealing with all of this tomorrow?”

Turner gripped the door handle tightly and groaned, “As tempting as that sounds, no. It’s time to be moving on from here, Will.”

Will nodded and pulled the blankets around himself, “I’ll make sure everything here is ready.”

Turner hooked his gun belt around his hips and opened the door. Beaux shot out into the cold morning air but Turner paused. He looked over his should to find that Will was still watching him from his warm cocoon among the blankets.

Will frowned and was about to speak but Turner cut him off, “I love you, Will.”

Will’s green eyes widened with surprise and a shocked smile curved his lips, “I…I love you too.”

Turner nodded, felt his heart well a bit in his chest and then stepped outside, closing the cabin door behind him. He saddled Bernice, gathered up the supplies he’d need and hopped on her back.

As he rode out of the barn he whistled for Beaux but the hound didn’t move from where he sat beside the cabin, “Come on you old hound!” Turner called with a wave.

Beaux snorted and remained where he was. Turner scoffed, “Three years of just me and you and now you’re going to forget all about me and spend all your time with Will?” When Beaux remained at his post Turner laughed, “I can’t say that I blame you there.”

Turner cast one more longing glance at the cabin and then set off into the forest, determined to get this work done so that he could finally take Will home.

***

Will felt as if he was floating on a cloud as he pulled on his clothes.

Turner loved him.

Of course Will had suspected as much given the way they’d spent the last few days but to have him say those words--to have him open up so completely--meant more to Will than words could say.

Knowing that Turner was going to take him away from here and they were going to have a home on a ranch made eating stale biscuits and spending the day packing seem not quite so bad.

Will munched a biscuit as he looked out the window at the melting snow. He knew why Turner was in a hurry to leave and, honestly, Will was happy that they were doing it now. He had no idea if Thompson would be brave enough to come up here looking for him but it would only be a matter of time before Will and Turner would be forced to go to town again for something and that was where the danger would lie.

Beaux whimpered on the other side of the door and Will laughed as he let the hound in, “Did you decide to stay with me where it’s warm?” he teased as he scratched behind his black ears, “I don’t blame you, Beaux. We’re gonna be pretty cold the next few days.”

Will spent the next couple of hours cleaning up the cabin and packing up the things they would need while making their journey through the pass. It wasn’t until he laid the stack of blankets on the floor beside the door with the saddlebags that he remembered the book Turner had asked him to get.

Will went to the hope chest and opened it slowly. Now that he knew who these items had belonged to, and how much that man had meant to Turner, he took much more care with them. Will thumbed gently through the worn and tattered book. He wasn’t much for Edgar Allen Poe, finding the work to be a bit too dark for his tastes, but if this book was what Turner wanted then it’s what they’d take.

He tucked the book safely within the saddlebags and then set his sights on lunch. There were a few potatoes left in the bucket in the kitchen and Will figured they’d fry up just fine.

As Will sat the pan on the cook stove and prepared to start a fire, the silence of the cabin was disrupted by Beaux growling low in his throat. Will stood straight and felt a chill wash down his spine.

Beaux’s fur stood straight on the back of his neck as he dropped low and glared at the door, that growl still rumbling deep from his throat.

“What’s the matter?” Will whispered as he walked toward the rifle that Turner kept propped against the wall by the bed.

Will clutched that cold piece of wood and iron in his shaking hands and then he nearly jumped from his skin when a knock sounded on the door.

A/N: Dun dun dun...... hope you like the cliff hanger ;)

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