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After bringing the bodies back to El Paso and getting his reward, Manco rides after Mortimer. It’s a whim, he tells himself. It’s what he’ll tell Mortimer if he asks. Unfinished business, he’ll tell him if he pries on. Manco hopes he won’t.
He reaches Mortimer the next day, just before midday. There’s surprise in his eyes when he opens the door of his hotel room, which is expected, but he’s also visibly relieved to see Manco again, which…
Manco decides not to point it out. For Mortimer’s sake, he tells himself.
“What are you doing here, boy?” Mortimer asks him. Manco would’ve expected the piercing stare he knows well by now, a wry smile, but there’s none of that. He frowns at Mortimer, narrows his eyes. He knew the question was coming and he’s had an answer ready since El Paso, but it still takes him a moment.
“I was worried about you,” is what he ends up saying. He was going to say something more, mirror Mortimer’s own words in Agua Caliente, but now that he’s here, there’s nothing. What’s left is frighteningly vulnerable, and Manco’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. It’s probably the most honest thing Manco’s ever told Mortimer over the short time they’ve known each other, too. Of course it would happen now that their partnership is over.
Mortimer looks at him unreadably for a couple of seconds before opening the door some more and stepping back to let him in. Manco locks the door behind himself and gives the small room a brief once-over. It’s impersonal and inexpensive, a hiding spot more than anything else.
“What were you gonna do next?” Manco asks before he can stop himself.
Mortimer looks away. He looks exhausted. Manco wonders if he’s slept at all since he last saw him.
“How long did you…?”
“Long,” Mortimer says. His voice is quiet, and he’s got a closed-off expression like he’s replaying the previous day’s events in his mind.
Manco is doing the same thing, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. He keeps thinking about that moment right after Mortimer shot Indio. There was an opening there, Indio trying to raise his gun even as he lay there dying, and Mortimer saw it as well as Manco. And yet he didn’t shoot again. Just stood there, waiting.
“What were you gonna do next, old man?” It’s almost a whisper, Manco’s mouth is so dry.
“I,” Mortimer starts, stops, sighs. Manco walks into his space, and Mortimer just looks at him, almost helplessly.
“I know we’re not partners anymore, but – ”
“But here you are,” Mortimer says.
“Yeah,” Manco says. He clears his throat. Neither of them seems to be able to hold the other’s gaze for longer than a couple of seconds at a time. “Here I am.”
“Worrying about an old man.” It’s probably supposed to be a joke, but Manco just swallows around the lump in his throat and nods.
“Yeah.” It sounds stupid, put like that, but it’s not a lie. Manco supposes that’s something. “Can’t have you doing something stupid all by yourself.”
That brings a tired smile to Mortimer’s eyes.
“No. That’s your job, isn’t it, boy?”
Manco grins in spite of himself and brings his left hand up to stroke Mortimer’s cheekbone, the fading bruise there, with the pad of his thumb, gentler than he remembers touching anyone in recent memory. Mortimer sighs and lets his eyes fall shut, and Manco feels the same tingling warmth he’s felt a few times over these past days run all over him again.
“So,” he says after a moment. His hand is cupping Mortimer’s cheek now, almost casually, and Mortimer’s leaning into the touch, eyes still closed. “Since I’m here to take my job back and being stupid is out, do you have another plan?”
“I”, Mortimer starts, then hesitates, a slight frown between his brows. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to think for a while,” he says then, in a single breath, like he doesn’t want to admit it but can’t not. It’s the sincerity of it that has Manco talking before thinking what’s wise and what isn’t.
“I can help with that,” he says. Mortimer opens his eyes, his expression one of mild shock.
“Got some rum. If you want,” Manco adds. It’s a half-hearted save at best, and he’s cringing inwardly, but then Mortimer settles his hands on his waist, carefully watching his reactions. The unrestricting hold has Manco feeling a little lightheaded.
“Let’s see about that later,” Mortimer says. And then, quieter, “I’m glad you’re here, boy.”
Manco grins. He’s glad, too.