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Seamus could work himself up to being indignant about his virtue, Ri said, out of the blue, “Did you see a horse yesterday?”
Seamus blinked, bringing his mind away from Ri and his lanky, corded body. He usually went for someone more hefty, to be honest, but the nervous energy Ri carried pulled at something inside him.
“Horse? You mean the one Zachariah called grandson?”
Ri’s brown eyes went darker and rounder, and he gave the barest of nods.
Seamus supposed he wasn’t going to elicit speech with his yes-or-no questions, so he formulated his next sentence differently. “Why are you asking about the horse?”
Ri swallowed, paused.
Oh God. Ri’s pauses tended to be followed by statements about not wanting or being able to talk.
Instead, Ri said, “I know him.”
Seamus nodded; his head went slowly forward and back as he willed Ri to expand. Please, God, expand.
Didn’t happen. Stay polite, Seamus. Patient. Zachariah’s grandson here. Zachariah, who did you a good turn.
“ How do you know the horse?”
Trick question, apparently, as Ri searched for an answer. Seamus sipped his coffee and waited.
“He grew up here,” Ri offered.
“I thought it was wild.”
“ Around here.”
“What does that mean?” Okay, he was losing patience, but no one could blame him.
Abruptly, Ri stood, and Seamus already saw that he was about to stride out the door and into the night in another one of his disappearing acts.
He slammed down his mug and rose. “Oh no you don’t. Not again.”
He stepped towards Ri, placing an open palm on his arm.
Ri’s entire body quivered in reaction, and Seamus dropped his hand immediately. Stepped back. Shit. He didn’t know what was going on, but he became scared for Ri, that he’d react like this.
“Hey,” he said, striving for casual and placing his hands in his back pockets.
“Sorry.” Ri’s body remained tense, though the actual quivering was gone.
“No. Don’t apologize for that, okay?”
Ri looked out of his depth, gaze not quite meeting Seamus’s, a baffled expression on his face. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, as if trying to hide himself.
“Would you do me a favor?” Seamus asked. “Would you sleep in your grandfather’s bed tonight? It would make me feel better.”
Ri shook his head like that was a preposterous suggestion on Seamus’s part and spluttered, “I don’t have to stay overnight.”
“It’s already night, Ri.” Seamus remembered earlier when he’d joked about not attacking Ri. “Do you not feel safe staying here?”
“I feel safe,” Ri said quickly. “I just…” He fixed Seamus with a stare, an effort, but he made it. Then he said, “You’re a very nice man.”
“Uh…” Good God, he hadn’t done a thing. But he didn’t want to deny it, because there seemed to be a question behind it. “I try my best.”
“Okay.” Ri cleared his throat, like he was sentencing himself to something rather severe. “I’ll stay the night.”
“Great.” To make his intentions obvious and give Ri space, Seamus retreated to the couch, turned off the lamp and closed his eyes. If Ri chose to disappear, well, he’d done the best he could to convince him to stay. Despite Ri’s jumpiness, if they had a physical confrontation, Ri would win, not Seamus, so it wasn’t as if Seamus could force him into the bedroom.
It wasn’t as if that would be the right thing to do either. It would be like trying to put the wild horse in a stall. It would be the wrong thing.
Still, it was with relief Seamus saw the kitchen light go off then heard the bedroom door close. Though Ri could escape through the window, it didn’t happen. Rather, Seamus heard him settle into Zachariah’s creaky, ancient bed, and he smiled, remembering the old man and his tossing and turning.
“Is this why you left me the farm, Zachariah? Because of Ri?” Seamus whispered into the dark. “Trouble is, I don’t know what the hell is going on with him.”
Chapter Three
    For the rest of the night