“Yeah, I’ve got it. And I’ll tell him what you said.”

“Thanks, Rob.”

“No problem, Dan.” He hesitates, picking at a loose thread on one of his belt loops. “Maybe we’ll talk soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll call and see how he’s doing tomorrow.”

Robbie huffs. “Okay, right. I’ll update you then, I guess.”

“Gotta go. Bye.” Then, right when Robbie’s heart feels like it could break, he adds, “Love you,” and Robbie’s next breath comes a little easier.

“I love you, too.”

Robbie lets himself into the stall with Poco and runs his hand under the fleece. The fabric is damp over his back, but his coat is dry. The cooler has done its job of wicking away all the moisture from his sweaty skin instead of letting it freeze in his coat. Satisfied, Robbie pulls the cooler off and drapes it over the stall door to dry, then cups his hand under Poco’s jaw and guides him out the barn door, across the snowy driveway, and back through the corral gate. Poco heads toward the shed to join his buddies. A trail of tracks through the snow to the hay feeder, and another to the waterer, prove they’ve ventured out as necessary.

Robbie takes his time, double-checking things that don’t need checking. He wants to give Lance as much time as possible to settle in without him there to make Lance feel like he’s in a fish bowl in the single, open space.

And to be honest, Robbie could use the respite, too.

Just lonely, he insists to himself. Surely, his reaction to hearing Danny’s voice is proof of that.

But if it were Danny up in the hayloft, Robbie would be glued to his side, hanging on his every word, studying his face for every little recent sign of maturation. He can’t say he’s less interested in looking at Lance, but when he looks, it isn’t brotherly affection that he feels.

Okay, Robbie thinks as he shuts off a water hydrant after filling an already-brimming stock tank another inch. I’m attracted to Lance. He can admit that. Robbie’s a grown man, and so is Lance, so there’s nothing fundamentally wrong about Robbie noticing him in that way. And even if there was, Robbie knows from experience that deliberate emotional ignorance never did anyone any favors in life. Maybe it took Megan and him a while to figure that out, but it’s not a lesson he’ll be forgetting any time soon.

He had not been attracted to Lance when he’d been a teenager, thank God, or else he’d have a whole new level of self-hatred to work through. But he definitely is attracted to him now.

Back in the saddle shed to check the cats’ water, Robbie tosses the little circle of ice that’s in the shallow plastic dish into the snow and refills it from a jug.

Robbie has never so much as flirted with a man. Not for lack of interest, but rather for lack of opportunity. He spent his teenage years assuming he was straight. He liked girls well enough, and he liked Megan especially, and thinking about anyone else—male or female—had always been unnecessary and made him feel vaguely disloyal.