Saviours of Oestend Oestend 2 Read Online Free Page A

allowing the different quarters of the room to be sectioned off. Even now, with the curtains all open and the entire room visible to all, they could sit side by side on the lower bunk with their heads together and hold a conversation without the whole blessed world hearing. Simon tilted his head to the side, indicating the empty space on the bed next to him, and Frances took his hint. He sat down next to him, close enough that their thighs were touching. Simon had never flat-out asked Frances about his sexual habits, but he’d suspected for a while they were more in line with Aren’s than with his own. “You heard what Foster said about men like Deacon and Aren?” he asked quietly.
Frances’ face flushed red, but he didn’t turn away. “I heard.”
“That going to cause trouble for you?”
Frances’ blush deepened. The boy was so easy to read. He was embarrassed to have Simon ask and nervous about how Simon would respond. “Not if he doesn’t find out.”
Simon nodded. “Fair enough. But if you end up behind the hay stack with any of these boys, be sure to watch your back. Got it?”
If possible, Frances’ cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. But Simon also saw the relief that it was now out in the open and with nothing more said about it than that. “I will.”
“You let me know if he gives you any trouble. ‘Cause I’ll string him up from the nearest tree.”
Frances’ smile was shy and grateful. “I will.”
There was something else there in his eyes, too, and in the solemn tone of his voice. Simon had always chalked it up as a bit of hero worship before. Now that he knew for sure about Frances, he realised it might be more, but he chose to let it go. It didn’t matter, one way or the other. Frances was the same boy he’d always been, and he was Simon’s friend. The boy was the only companion he’d had since Garrett had died.
“You watch him around Cami, too. He had his eye on her the whole trip, and I don’t think she appreciated the attention.”
Frances was clearly relieved that the conversation was moving away from his own sex life. “She might have a lot of that to deal with.”
Simon shrugged. “She might.” He thought about Daisy, who had been Dante’s wife, and about Sawyer, the man who Dante had killed for rolling with her. He thought about the maids at the McAllen ranch—the ones who were willing, and the ones who had probably stayed in the barracks, out of sight, in order to keep from being mauled. He thought of Alissa, alone on the BarChi and dependent on Deacon to keep her safe, just as Cami was now dependent upon Dante.
Simon was glad he wasn’t a woman.
“Guess we’ll see what kind of man Dante really is.”
Chapter Three
    It may have been cold outside, but it was downright hot on the second floor of the big house. It seemed Cami was making good use of the fireplace in her bedroom. Dante wondered if she was burning through their entire woodpile. He would have opened a window if it hadn’t been night.
    At another point in his life, he might have been annoyed, but now it amused him more than anything. He thought he’d enjoyed having the house to himself, but he found that he liked knowing she was there. Occasionally, he heard a bump or a door closing. He heard her wandering the hall, going upstairs to the third floor, checking the other rooms, taking stock of the closets. He found her presence comforting. He hadn’t quite realised how lonely he’d been.
    When he rose the next morning, she was already in the kitchen. The entire room was rich with a scent that was sweet and warm, and yet so simple and familiar. It made Dante’s stomach grumble. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Just oatmeal,” Cami said.
    Just oatmeal . Dante thought he’d never been so happy to hear those two words in all his life. For the last few weeks, it seemed they’d mostly been living on baked beans and salt pork. Yes, there’d been the pickles, and once, two weeks prior, Frances had brought