Running Wild

attacking Ri. “Do you not feel safe staying here?”
“I feel safe,” Ri said quickly. “I just…” He fixed Seamus with a stare, an effort, but he made it. Then he said, “You’re a very nice man.”
“Uh…” Good God, he hadn’t done a thing. But he didn’t want to deny it, because there seemed to be a question behind it. “I try my best.”
“Okay.” Ri cleared his throat, like he was sentencing himself to something rather severe. “I’ll stay the night.”
“Great.” To make his intentions obvious and give Ri space, Seamus retreated to the couch, turned off the lamp and closed his eyes. If Ri chose to disappear, well, he’d done the best he could to convince him to stay. Despite Ri’s jumpiness, if they had a physical confrontation, Ri would win, not Seamus, so it wasn’t as if Seamus could force him into the bedroom.
It wasn’t as if that would be the right thing to do either. It would be like trying to put the wild horse in a stall. It would be the wrong thing.
Still, it was with relief Seamus saw the kitchen light go off then heard the bedroom door close. Though Ri could escape through the window, it didn’t happen. Rather, Seamus heard him settle into Zachariah’s creaky, ancient bed, and he smiled, remembering the old man and his tossing and turning.
“Is this why you left me the farm, Zachariah? Because of Ri?” Seamus whispered into the dark. “Trouble is, I don’t know what the hell is going on with him.”
Chapter Three
    For the rest of the night Seamus mostly lay awake. What the hell was he supposed to do with the troubled man sleeping in Zachariah’s bedroom? A part of him wanted to go to the police. Not to report or charge Ri, but to find out why he was on the run and perhaps get him some help. But without knowing why he was living under the radar, Seamus feared his actions could make life worse for Ri.
    Seamus needed to find out more. He was at the farm for only three weeks and a few days had already passed, but he didn’t have to make any decisions right now.
    It was almost dawn by the time he dozed off. So when someone drove up to the house, he didn’t wake until Ri swung open the bedroom door and hissed “Seamus” as a car door slammed shut.
    Seamus managed to stand but took a moment to get his bearings. When a second car door shut, Ri stared at him, eyes wide and demanding, as if Seamus had summoned the visitors.
    He stumbled over to the window to see his parents walking towards the front door.
Fuck, not now . He rubbed his face.
“It’s my mom and dad,” Seamus said, and was surprised by the look of utter betrayal on Ri’s face.
“Are you trying to trap me?”
“Of course not.” Seamus attempted to wrap his brain around the idea that his parents could be part of a trap. “I didn’t know they were coming, though I would have thought they’d phone ahead…” His voice trailed off as Ri slipped out the back. He wanted to call after him, but that would lead to questions from his parents who stood on the front porch, rapping at the door.
Ri was gone. Again. God.
Seamus opened up and blinked into sunshine. They both stared at him, a mix of surprise and disapproval on their faces.
“Honey, what are you doing sleeping in?” His mother smiled up at him. “I thought you’d be keeping farm hours.”
Seamus backed away, unable to come up with a suitable answer to the sleeping-in question. My midnight visitor woke me? Zachariah’s mysterious grandson keeps popping in at odd hours? The idea of explaining Ri to his parents was too daunting.
His father raised his eyebrows, and Seamus could see him wondering how his son could think of owning and running a farm if he couldn’t rise at dawn.
“I brought you some food.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Seamus glanced at the clock to see it was 9:30 a.m., and he winced.
“We phoned but your cell sent us to voicemail.”
Oops, he’d forgotten to charge his phone.
She placed down her tray. “It’s a bit dim in here.”
“Yeah, well, Zachariah had small windows put in seventy years ago.”
“I’m just not sure what you’re doing here, honey.”
Seamus cleared his throat. “Do you want some coffee?”
“I’ll make it,” his mother said cheerily and breezed into the kitchen. She looked over to the table where two half-full cups of cold coffee sat by one plate of crumbs. “Oh. You’ve had visitors?”
“Someone came by,” Seamus said.
His mother opened her mouth to say more then shut it.
“There’s nothing wrong