Running Wild

But that didn’t make sense. What would there be in accomplishing, well, whatever Ri was trying to accomplish?
    As far as Seamus knew, the only thing Ri wanted was that Seamus keep the farm.
What the hell did Ri do? How did he live? He must be on the run, but how did he make it through the winters here?
Something clicked over in Seamus’s brain.
“Zachariah gave you shelter during the winter.” Seamus made it a statement.
Ri nodded. “At times. I have other options though.”
“Oh?” He placed a mug in front of Ri who sat at the kitchen table. “What are those?”
Ri stared at the coffee, concentrating. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Alrighty.” Seamus eased into his chair. “What do you want to talk about?”
Ri smiled at his hands, his expression pained. He appeared at a loss.
“Help me out here, Ri.”
Ri’s head shot up. “How?”
Seamus stated the obvious and made a point of keeping the impatience out of his voice. “Talk to me.”
Ri made a hopeless gesture, and it struck Seamus that his guest looked exhausted and hungry. He jumped up and pulled out a box of muffins he’d bought today, and a block of cheese, offering them both to Ri.
“Dig in.”
“Thanks.”
Needless to say Ri gulped it all down. Seamus could have felt imposed upon, that he was a major source of food for Ri. But it was a bit difficult when clearly Ri was in a tough spot. A long time ago, Seamus arrived here in a very tough spot, and Zachariah had helped him out. Seamus would do the same for his grandson. Besides, he could afford to feed a hungry man.
He didn’t understand this shyness that came over his guest at certain times in the conversation. It contrasted sharply with Ri’s tendency to arrive unannounced. Perhaps being on the run wasn’t a way to shore up social skills. On the other hand, if Ri thought they were about to tumble into bed because Seamus had informed him he was gay, he could think again.
Ri’s pupils had dilated when Seamus had declared himself gay.
Before Seamus could work himself up to being indignant about his virtue, Ri said, out of the blue, “Did you see a horse yesterday?”
Seamus blinked, bringing his mind away from Ri and his lanky, corded body. He usually went for someone more hefty, to be honest, but the nervous energy Ri carried pulled at something inside him.
“Horse? You mean the one Zachariah called grandson?”
Ri’s brown eyes went darker and rounder, and he gave the barest of nods.
Seamus supposed he wasn’t going to elicit speech with his yes-or-no questions, so he formulated his next sentence differently. “Why are you asking about the horse?”
Ri swallowed, paused.
Oh God. Ri’s pauses tended to be followed by statements about not wanting or being able to talk.
Instead, Ri said, “I know him.”
Seamus nodded; his head went slowly forward and back as he willed Ri to expand. Please, God, expand.
Didn’t happen. Stay polite, Seamus. Patient. Zachariah’s grandson here. Zachariah, who did you a good turn.
“ How do you know the horse?”
Trick question, apparently, as Ri searched for an answer. Seamus sipped his coffee and waited.
“He grew up here,” Ri offered.
“I thought it was wild.”
“ Around here.”
“What does that mean?” Okay, he was losing patience, but no one could blame him.
Abruptly, Ri stood, and Seamus already saw that he was about to stride out the door and into the night in another one of his disappearing acts.
He slammed down his mug and rose. “Oh no you don’t. Not again.”
He stepped towards Ri, placing an open palm on his arm.
Ri’s entire body quivered in reaction, and Seamus dropped his hand immediately. Stepped back. Shit. He didn’t know what was going on, but he became scared for Ri, that he’d react like this.
“Hey,” he said, striving for casual and placing his hands in his back pockets.
“Sorry.” Ri’s body remained tense, though the actual quivering was gone.
“No. Don’t apologize for that, okay?”
Ri looked out of his depth, gaze not quite meeting Seamus’s, a baffled expression on his face. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, as if trying to hide himself.
“Would you do me a favor?” Seamus asked. “Would you sleep in your grandfather’s bed tonight? It would make me feel better.”
Ri shook his head like that was a preposterous suggestion on Seamus’s part and spluttered, “I don’t have to stay overnight.”
“It’s already night, Ri.” Seamus remembered earlier when he’d joked about not