“About time.” Gilbert was standing by the chicken coop as Nash exited the house. He ignored the comment.
“Have you—”
“Been waiting long, yes.”
Nash raised an eyebrow. “Been standing there before, three-four nights ago maybe?” He would’ve recognized Gilbert’s scent, he was almost sure he would have even in the crazed state he’d been in.
Gilbert pursed his lips, he never used to, but now he did it more often. “Why?”
“I saw footprints, not Arlo’s. Bigger.”
“And you remembered now?” Gilbert looked at him in disbelief.
“No, it was just when you stood…I might have forgotten—Fuck, Gil, I hardly know what I was thinking two days ago, it’s like I was drugged or something.”
“But you’re fine now?”
“Yeah.” His hand hovered over his heart, but he dropped it to his side. “Hard to be away from him, but I’ll live.”
Gilbert smiled, a real smile—it had been awhile since Nash had seen one.