Conrad, Kelly - Rogue Preacher (Siren Publishing Ménage and More ManLove) (14 page)

“I’ll try to keep up. If I can’t, I guess you’ll have to…punish me.”

Sunset smiled, and Lakota slowly pushed him backwards and mounted him. “Oh, God, baby,” he said. “Being with you is all I ever want in this world.”

* * * *

While they kissed, Sunset clung to him, stroking his back over and over until he became so filled with desire, he lowered his hands and found his ass. He squeezed it, and then opened his legs, and pulled his cock hard against him while he moved his hips feverishly. As they rubbed their cocks together, whimpers and moans escaped their throats. With a passionate thrust, push, and rub, they feverishly ground themselves into each other. Suddenly, he felt Lakota squeezing his ass, his hips moving faster and faster, the two of them hot and fevered as they moved in synch. The sensations rolled and broke like a choppy sea, fueling their desire, making their bodies move toward the place of release. Finally, when the sensation culminated into one gigantic burst, their cream came spewing out like a lusty fountain.

“I’ll never get enough of you, baby,” Lakota whispered. “I think I could go on like this all night long.”

They loved on each other as long as they could stay awake, but finally the two of them fell asleep when the night was turning to early dawn. Sunset woke first and couldn’t get back to sleep, so he began pacing and raking his fingers through his hair. He loved having Lakota there, but even with him here, he couldn’t escape the feeling that somehow he seemed incomplete. As he sat down on the edge of the bed, he lowered his head in his hands.

Where is Vince?

* * * *

Vince felt the chill of air on his naked body and snatched a sheet to cover himself, flushing with embarrassment. He flung his legs off the side of the bed and lowered his head in his hands. Beside him lay a cowboy he’d picked up in a saloon. It wasn’t the first time, but it was always the same. He came out of the experience empty and unsatisfied. For the first time he realized that no one could make him happy but Sunset. Even Chick didn’t seem the same anymore. Sunset had ruined his life. He’d made it impossible for him to be happy with anyone else. He tried to forget, but everywhere he went people were talking about the great Sunset Carson. In the saloons, on the street, and even when he bought a bath and tried to bury himself in hot water and soap suds, the name still rang in his ears.

He had to find him. He had to find him and settle this once and for all. If he missed Sunset, then Sunset must miss him as well. He had to find out. If he did, then maybe they could talk their problems over and get back together. If not, then he’d know for sure that it wouldn’t work. It would be hard, but he would get over it eventually.

Knowing the preacher’s schedule, he knew where he would be in a few days and wasted no time loading his horse up with supplies and starting out. Finally, with a strong nudge to his horse’s flanks, he rode hell-for-leather for the little town of Belle Plain down in Callahan County. When he arrived, the streets of the town seemed to be unusually vacant. But as he rode further, he saw a large crowd of people in a small courtyard right beside the jail. He gentled his horse into a slow stride as he passed and saw a gallows and a man blindfolded standing with his hands cuffed behind his back. Not wanting to watch, he nudged his horse and rode away, but just as he’d gotten a few feet away, he heard the trapdoor swing open and the cowboy drop.

A chill crept up his spine.

He knew the only thing standing between him and a rope was Sunset Carson. It made him wonder if their failed relationship would in any way affect Sunset’s decision to keep his mouth closed. He didn’t relish the idea of asking Sunset about it.

As his horse slowly galloped toward the edge of town, Vince saw what he’d come to see. Several men were running around setting up a tent on a vacant lot. He searched for the tall, beautiful man he knew he was in love with, but he didn’t see him. Instead, he saw another face, and stared. He couldn’t believe it. It was the dark-haired stranger that carried a notepad around with him. Now, he looked tired, his shirt sleeves rolled up and his neat hair tumbling around his face. Slowly, Vince pulled up to a hitching post and dismounted. Carefully stepping into all the confusion, he asked the first man he saw where Sunset Carson was.

“I think he’s in back, but we ain’t supposed to disturb him. He’s studyin’ the sermon he’s preachin’ tonight.”

* * * *

Sunset wasn’t studying his sermon. He was doing something he felt was far more important—he was praying. The truth of the matter was Sunset had at last faced up to what he was. Maybe he could hide it from his congregation, but he couldn’t hide it from God. Besides, he was tired of living a lie and knew it was time he admitted what he was. Only one thing bothered him. He might have to give up his ministry. By accepting it, he wasn’t being rebellious or flaunting it in God’s face. He had simply quit lying to himself.

Now, as he prayed, he said it very simply…

“This is who I am, God. It’s not a sin. It’s a preference, and I can’t go on hiding it in the shadows. If you don’t like me this way, you have the power to change me. I don’t care. I’ll be whatever You want me to be. But please don’t take the ministry from me. I may be different, but I love you, God, and I’m a man who believes in miracles. I’ve prayed for miracles for others, but now I need one myself. It doesn’t have to be a parting of the Red Sea, or anything like that. All I ask is that You give me a sign. That’s all. Let something happen that tells me you understand. Anything, God. Anything.”

His prayers continued on into the evening hours, but when it became late, he wiped the tears from his eyes and rose from his knees. A look at the clock told him it was almost time to begin. With this weight on his shoulders, he didn’t feel like whooping it up like he usually did, but he didn’t want to disappoint anyone, so he began this service the same as he did his others, with a sudden, dramatic entrance—Sunset Carson style.

Chapter Fourteen

That night when Vince walked up to the parting in the tent, he stopped suddenly. There, erected on the back of the platform, was a gigantic cross with a man hanging on it, blood seeping down the crude lumber. He stared at it for several minutes. His gaze seemed to be attracted to it—as if magnetized in some way. And then suddenly Sunset burst upon the scene, and Vince shifted his eyes away and looked at him. For the first time his ears, or was it his heart, seemed to be open to what Sunset was really saying. He described Jesus’s last day on Earth, His all-consuming love, the beating, the death on the cross, the blood—all of it seemed to be so real. It was as if the bloody scene had taken place just for him.

Ridiculous!

Every time he tried to push it away, but it would come back. Images of a bleeding Christ whispering to his heart.

Come!

And then Sunset’s voice cried out, burning his ears. “Everything was for you! He died on the cross just for you! His blood was shed for you! He arose on the third day for you!”

“But why?” Vince muttered. “I didn’t ask Him to!”

“Love!” he heard Sunset shout.

“No! He’s not real,” Vince hissed as he struggled against it. “It’s all a fairy tale, a myth, a story for children and old people. Something to give them hope.”

“No!” Sunset said as if he’d heard Vince’s words. “We have
all
sinned and come short of the glory of God. Not just a select few.”

Suddenly, Vince felt something happening to him, and a flood of tears fell down his face. He looked up. He knew it was Sunset standing on the platform with his hands raised toward him, but in his mind’s eye, he saw Jesus’s nail-scarred hands raised, pleading.

“Come!” Sunset cried out. “You may not get another chance. You may leave this place tonight headed for damnation!”

Vince had always thought words like that sounded like a threat, but now he saw it as unconditional love, a desperate plea from God to not let this chance pass him by.

“Come to the foot of the cross and accept Jesus now!”

As if on cue, the choir began singing, and Vince looked around. He could feel God in every corner of the tent. In every board, in every chair, and in every melodic voice that rang out, telling of His love.

“He’s everywhere!” Sunset shouted. “And he wants to be in your heart tonight!”

Slowly, fighting every step of the way, Vince began walking down the aisle.

* * * *

“Come all ye who are heavy laden, and I shall give you rest. Come, my people! Come to the foot of the…”

As Sunset’s strong voice bellowed out over the people, it suddenly stopped in mid-sentence when he looked down and saw Vince standing in front of the platform. Something lurched inside him when he saw the tears that streamed down his face, and his heart melted. He could feel his own tears burning behind his lids when he heard Vince’s choking words.

“Sunset, I…I want…will you help me…?”

Sunset jumped down from the platform and looked at Vince. “Again, Vince?”

“No, Sunset. I know what you’re thinkin’, but it’s real this time, I promise.”

Sunset thought for a moment, and then he said, “Vince Michaels, do you believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God?”

Vince nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“Do you believe Jesus is divine?”

“Oh, yes, Sunset. I do!”

When Vince had given him a straightforward answer to his questions, he could feel the tears as they pooled in his eyes. These questions had been given to him by a wise old pastor when he first began his ministry. He said if you doubt someone’s sincerity, ask those questions. If they are sincere, their answer will be right, but if not, you’ll be able to tell. Some of them will become uncomfortable, or hesitant in their speech, and some won’t even be able to say it. But those that are sincere will say it just the way Vince had—no hesitation, no stumbling, but with his newfound faith shining in his eyes. As he looked at Vince, he knew. Those eyes weren’t the eyes of an atheist. They were the eyes of an innocent babe—a babe just born into the Kingdom of God.

Later, when Sunset was alone, he lifted his tearstained face up to God. “Thank you, God,” he whispered, referring to the miracle of Vince’s salvation. “I’ll say one thing for you. You sure as hell know how to answer a prayer.”

* * * *

The next morning, Sunset woke up and Vince was gone. After days of agonizing over his disappearance, he received a telegraph from the sheriff of Rogue’s Canyon saying that Vince had turned himself in for the murder of Sunset’s wife. It also asked that Sunset come and officially press charges so they could schedule a hearing.

“Hell, I can’t go down there. I’ve got a revival goin’ on here.”

“You want me to go?” Lakota asked. “I’m not sure how it works, but I might be able to press those charges for you.”

“I don’t want to press charges against him.”

Lakota looked at him strangely. “You don’t? Why not? He killed your wife, didn’t he?”

“I guess so. I actually don’t even know for sure. We had about five men firing at us, and one of the bullets killed my wife. It could have been Vince’s, but it might not have. I know I blamed him for it, but I never really knew for sure. I’m not about to press charges against him if I’m not sure he did it. They’ll hang him, for God’s sake. I don’t want that to happen.”

Lakota looked at him. “It’s because you’re in love with him, isn’t it?”

“All right, yes. I’m in love with him. But that’s not the reason. How can I press charges against him when I’m not even sure if he’s the one that did it? He would hang, for God’s sake. There’s no way in hell that I can do that.”

“He’s never denied it, has he?”

Sunset whirled around and looked at Lakota. “Look, Lakota, guilty or not, I can’t give the order to have Vince killed. Hell, I ain’t no murderer! I’ll stand up and fight with the best of them to defend myself, but to kill a man is just not in my nature.”

“All right, I’ll go down and see what I can do.”

“What do you think will happen?”

Lakota reached for his hat and put on his gun belt. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll find out.”

* * * *

The ride was hot and dusty. Ordinarily, he would have stopped at the saloon for a drink to clear the dust from his throat, but instead he went directly to the sheriff’s office. As he walked in, he looked around and saw the sheriff sitting at his desk.

“You got Vince Michaels here?”

“Sure do.”

“I’d like to see him if I can.”

The sheriff got up from his desk and grabbed the cell keys. “You’ll have to leave your guns out here.”

Lakota took his gun belt off and gave it to the sheriff.

“Right this way,” he said.

Lakota waited for the sheriff to leave before he began talking. “Sunset sent me,” he said.

“I know you. You’re that guy that writes in that notebook.” He looked him up and down. “What’d you do with your city dude clothes?”

“Never mind that. I’m Lakota, Son of Great Eagle, and I’m here to help you.”

“A Comanche’s gonna help me?”

“Sunset and I…we…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Vince said, turning his back on Lakota.