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Bart didn’t want to leave, not really. Rock Ridge had finally started to feel like a home. He was welcomed, appreciated, respected in a way he never really thought would happen. He’d made friends here, become part of a community. But he wasn’t needed any more, and Bart found to his surprise that being needed was important to him. Add to that the more than friendly feelings he’d developed for his deputy, and he knew it was best that he leave.
Telling Jim he was leaving was probably the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. Jim had taken it well, he thought. Quietly which was no surprise, asking only a few questions about his plans. But since then, he’d been even more quiet, and when they did talk, he wouldn’t quite meet Bart eyes. Their easy camaraderie had been broken, and it hurt, bothered Bart, more than he’d realized it would. A part of him wanted to ask Jim to come along. A huge part, actually. They worked well together. They understood each other. In the short time they’d known one another, Jim had become the closest friend Bart ever had. It made no sense whatsoever, but it was true.
What made even less sense was that Bart would stay if Jim asked him to. The realization was a surprise to him, but it was the truth. He knew, down to his bones, that if Jim said, “Why don’t you stay?” he would have, without hesitation.
But Jim didn’t ask. And Bart didn’t ask Jim to leave with him. Jim had had a hard enough life before he and Bart had met, and Bart couldn’t bring himself to try to convince his friend to give up the stability of town, its shelter and relative safety. Not when all he could offer was a long, hard trail with an unknown destination, and friendship that he wished could be more. Because while there had been moments Bart thought maybe there was something there, some spark, he was pretty sure it was just wishful thinking on his part.
When the time came to leave, Jim was nowhere to be seen. True, they’d had their own private goodbye the night before – dinner, a few games of chess, nothing different than most nights. But he thought he’d have another chance to see Jim one more time. He wondered if Jim’s absence was because Bart’s departure upset him. A spiteful part of him hoped that was it.
Then, at the edge of town, he heard a familiar voice, and grinned as Jim tilted his hat back and looked up at Bart, a gleam in his eyes that set Bart’s heart beating just a little faster. A short exchange later the two were off together, on to the next adventure. That Jim wanted to go along made him happier than it should. Jim made him happier than he should. Glancing over at him riding alongside, looking like it was where he belonged, Bart sighed as he accepted the fact that that was more than okay with him.
The rest of that day’s ride was mostly silent, but it was of the companionable variety, so Bart wasn’t complaining, as it gave him time to think. He wondered why Jim had decided to make this journey with him, destination unknown, but it didn’t seem the right time to bring it up. And truth be known, he was a little unsure of how honest he was going to be about his reasons for wanting, and not wanting, Jim to come with him. But when it came down to it, he knew he was going to have to tell Jim how he felt, and better now, while they were still close to town, than later.
They set camp close to sundown, found a nice area for the horses to graze, a clear, cool creek for drinking water and a chance to wipe off a bit of the day’s travel, and before too long had a fire going.
Jim, as Bart knew from town, was the better cook, so he took care of the rest of the camp chores, and was rewarded with a meal that was simple but good, rather than partly burned as he would have done. They sat watching the fire, and Bart felt Jim’s eyes on him. Looked like it was time to talk.
“I wasn’t going to ask you to come along,” he began, figuring he might as well get that out right away. He kept his gaze aimed at the fire as he went on. “Didn’t seem fair. You had a place in Rock Ridge.”
“I did at that. My very own spot in the gutter.” Jim cut in quietly. His voice was joking, but Bart could hear more underneath. He’d been able to from the moment they met.
Bart shook his head and faced Jim, an I know better look on his face. “Come on now – you’re a hero. And anyhow,” he went on before Jim could challenge him, “however you got to Rock Ridge, we both know the reason behind it was to get away from being the Waco Kid. Travelling with me, you might end up getting recognized.”
“Maybe,” Jim acknowledged. “But it’s my choice to make. Unless you don’t want me around,” he finished, his tone half teasing.
Bart was silent at that. Too silent, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Jim shifted away from him, and when Bart looked over he saw Jim’s expression was blank.
“Should I go back?”
Bart shrugged. “That’s up to you.”
“Well, if you don’t want me here…”
“Oh I do, I do,” Bart couldn’t help but reply.
“You want me here, but you weren’t going to ask me to come.” Jim cocked his head. “You have me very puzzled.”
Bart looked at the fire, then back at Jim, who just watched him, waiting. Bart sighed and leaned forward slowly to give Jim a soft kiss, then pulled back just far enough to look Jim in the eye. He figured it was only fair to stay within punching distance, in case Jim wanted to hit him. But when he met Jim’s gaze, he saw eyes twinkling with humor and affection.
Jim looked at him for a long minute, then raised an eyebrow and gently asked, “Are we… gay?”
Bart let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “When it comes to you, it looks like I am.”
“Well,” Jim replied, raising a hand to cup Bart’s cheek, “that certainly clears things up.” And he moved in with a smile for a kiss. Bart returned the grin and met him halfway. Their second kiss was no less gentle than the first, but now Bart could feel the acceptance behind it, and had to stop when he couldn’t hold in a laugh. He rested his forehead against Jim’s as he chuckled, feeling a mixture of relief and sheer happiness at this unexpectedly good turn of events.
“So where do we go from here?” Jim asked.
Bart kissed him again, just because he could, then leaned back against the rock, arms outstretched. Jim followed suit, scooting close enough lean into the circle of one arm, resting his hand on Bart’s leg.
“Well I hadn’t rightly thought about it, but seems to me Massachusetts looks mighty inviting.”