Free The Shearing Gun by Renae Kaye Page A

publication.
    He looked up as I entered, and smiled. “Hey, Hank. I see you’re taking my advice and not working while that shoulder heals.” The cups were set out, ready for the hot water, so I ignored the sarcasm and lifted the kettle off its stand as it boiled. He pointed to an article he was reading. “It says here that Border Leicester rams sold recently at Moora for nine hundred dollars each. Shit! Is that what your ones go for?”
    I shook my head. “No. I run Merinos. They can go for a good price like that if they come from quality breeders, but I need a little bit more proof before mine will get those sorts of prices. I’m hoping for a good lambing season. Then I can sell off some of my wethers and older ewes and make room for another crop of rams.”
    We talked about farming practices for a bit more before he finally said, “Hank? I was wondering if we could talk about what happened on Wednesday night?”
    I shook my head in disbelief. What was with Elliot and all his little talks? I preferred to ignore things completely. He caught my expression and wrinkled his nose.
    “I know, I know. I can see you hate talking. How about if I talk and you listen for a bit?” I snagged another of Jimmie’s creations and shrugged.
    “I want you to know why I was so angry with you at the club,” he began. I was a little surprised. I thought his lecture would be about me and my temper.
    He fiddled with the edge of the newspaper and spoke calmly. “You see, it was not easy for me to come out here—to move out to a rural area, I mean. I’ve lived my whole life in the city, so it’s a bit of a culture shock, to say the least. But on top of that, I’m an outsider in the community. I don’t have any family around here, and I don’t have anyone apart from Doctor Larsen to talk to about my work. I’ve been out here four months now, Hank, and it’s the loneliest I’ve been in my entire life. I knew moving here would be devastating to my sex life, but I didn’t realize how much I would miss just the camaraderie of having friends.”
    I swallowed and wouldn’t look him in the eye. At least when I moved out here, I had friends nearby. If you could call two hundred kilometers “nearby.” Besides, I’d grown up in the country and was used to the loneliness.
    Elliot sighed. “I’d made the decision to keep my sexuality to myself before I left Melbourne. But I didn’t realize how hunky some of you country boys could be!” That produced a snort of laughter from me. “I’d seen you a couple of times around town before you came into my surgery, Hank. I’d seen, I’d liked, I’d dreamed. Then suddenly you were half naked, and I was lonely, and my libido was out of control. I’m not sorry I looked, Hank. It meant that we became friends. I came out here to apologize, fully expecting you to yell at me and tell me to never step foot on your property again. But instead I thought I found a friend. You didn’t seem to mind about me being gay. You treated me the same as usual and even teased me about it a bit. It was a relief, to tell you the truth. It was a relief to be able to talk about it, instead of having to pretend that I’m into women. I liked you, Hank. Sure you’re hot, but I also liked your friendship.”
    I blinked. “I like you too, Ell. You’re a bit of a city wanker and you have no idea about the land, but you don’t make me feel like an uneducated fucker. You don’t put me down or anything. You listen and you learn.”
    “I like listening to you, Hank. And I thought we were friends, which is why I was so angry at the club. When I saw you there, I thought that someone had put a hallucinogen in my drink. You walked into that place with such confidence and pulled one of the best-looking guys in the joint within two minutes. You knew what you were doing. You weren’t in that club on a lark or out of curiosity. You were gay, and I was shattered. Why couldn’t you have told me? All it would take would be