Winter Hearts (10 page)

“We can sweep later. There’re more important things to do,” Luke said, hands on hips.

Sam carried on sweeping anyway until Luke snatched the broom from his hands and placed it in the corner. Yes, he was agitated about something. “I’ll show you where the well is. We’ll need to dig a well on your land too.”

Sam followed him outside to a large, round wooden cover on the ground. Luke pried the cover off to reveal the fresh, icy-cold water beneath. Kneeling on the ground, he scooped up water in his hands and drank. Sam followed suit.

“Tastes scads better than the water from the taps in Boston.”

“Did they have indoor plumbing in the restaurant you worked in? I didn’t realize it was that fancy. I thought you were talking about a local eating house.”

His parents’ mansion was one of the few homes in Boston that had had indoor plumbing for more than thirty years. “Yes,” Sam answered quickly. “Actually it was Tremont House.”

“That is a fancy place. How come you didn’t stay? You could have done well in a job like that. It’s probably better suited to you than farming.”

“I wanted a change.” He hated lying and he was getting in deeper, but Luke would never meet his family.

“This water is definitely better than any you’d find in a city. Fresh and cold, straight from the ground,” Luke said proudly. “Now get out your land deed, and let’s see where your quarter section is.”

Sam untied the tarp from his wagon. All his documents were in his brass-and-cherrywood portable writing desk. The land deed was right on top. “Here it is.” He unfolded the document and showed it to Luke, who pointed across his fields.

“You’re directly to the west of me. There’s a creek on your land, which is really handy. It means you don’t have to dig a well right away.”

“So our land adjoins?” Sam smiled widely. “There’s no reason I can’t sleep with you every night, is there?”

“You have to live on your land,” Luke pointed out.

“We’ll build the shanty so it’s there if anyone comes by. That way I can get the neighbors to sign the letter of proof when my five years is up.”

“You’ll be married by then,” Luke said as he climbed up on his wagon. Over his shoulder he called out, “Bring your wagon up to the barn.”

The barn stood twenty feet from the house and was a decent size. They drove the wagons in and unloaded Sam’s furniture. Luke unhitched Pretty Girl and the cow and put them in their stalls while Sam drove his wagon back outside again. It was several minutes later when Luke walked out, frowning from under the brim of his hat. He climbed up beside Sam, and they set out for town again.

“Where did you get all that fancy furniture?”

Sam had taken items that were in storage in his parents’ house on Beacon Hill. “I bought them at a secondhand furniture store,” he said with the best air of negligence he could muster.

“Even secondhand they’d be expensive. They must’ve paid you awful well at Tremont House. Didn’t you think you’d be better served buying cheaper stuff if you can’t make your own?”

“Guess I wasn’t thinking straight.” Sam leaned over, kissing Luke on the cheek.

Without pause Luke smacked him across the belly with the back of his hand. “Don’t do stupid things.”

“The entire prairie is empty.” Even as he said it, another wagon appeared on the horizon.

“See!” Luke pointed. “You’re just asking for trouble.

* * * *

By the time the lumber, seed wheat, and vegetable seeds were bought and they headed back, it was supper time, and they hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Luke drove Sam’s wagon to the barn to take care of the chores while Sam made their supper. They had bought beef and potatoes and butter. Luke’s cow had started giving milk again since being able to graze outside the past couple of weeks. When Luke walked in with a bucket of milk, supper was just about ready. He dipped some of the thick, creamy milk into their cups while Sam beat some into the potatoes and served the food.

Placing Luke’s plate in front of him, Sam proudly waited for his comments.

Luke looked at him. “Aren’t you going to say grace?”

“Oh! Yes, of course.”

Clasping his hands, Sam said it quickly, then waited again, watching Luke fork up some steaming mashed potatoes and gravy. He cut a slice from the beef, ate it, and looked up at Sam, who had not yet touched his as he waited for the verdict. “What?” Luke asked.

Disappointed at the response, he asked, “Is it good?”

“Of course it’s good. Everything you make is good. You want me to tell you at every meal?”

“Yes,” Sam said simply.

“It’s so good I can hardly stand it,” Luke said.

A wide smile plastered itself across Sam’s face. Starving, he dived into his own meal. Between mouthfuls, he explained, “I sliced the beef really thin and fried it with an onion. I like a roast of beef, but there wasn’t time. The butter and milk in the potatoes makes them flavorful and light. You have to beat them really well with a wooden spoon to get them light and fluffy.”

“I’ll beat your ass really well with a wooden spoon if you kiss me outdoors again.”

With a chuckle, Sam ate his dinner, looking every now and then at Luke, who was half smiling himself as he ate. “What were you so mad about earlier? Was it because I was talking to that young lady in town?”

With his gaze on his plate, Luke said, “I guess.”

“Are you jealous?”

Luke shrugged, and Sam thought he’d better leave it at that.

Chapter Nine

The one-room shanty was nearly finished by dinnertime. Luke told Sam they needed to build it by the creek so he would have easy access to fresh water until they could dig a well. Sam’s reaction—
“What a good idea. I never thought of that”
—worried Luke. The young man was intelligent, could cook and clean, but he appeared to have none of the practical skills a man needed to survive on his own on the land.

Sitting now beside the creek with their bare feet in the water to cool them off, they ate the cold dinner Sam had prepared.

“The prairie sun is different from the sun in cities or even in the forests or mountains,” Luke told Sam. “It’s hotter and more likely to burn you because the land is so flat, and there’s no shade. So be careful not to get overheated when you’re working in the fields.”

Sam handed him a sandwich. “I’d die out here without you.”

“I doubt it,” Luke said, but he grinned at the praise. He liked the idea of having a younger man to teach the ways of the world to. “Is that pickle?” he asked, lifting the top slice of bread.

“Uh-huh. You had a jar sitting on the shelf in the little house. It never got used.”

“That’s because I hate pickles. I only bought them in case I was starving.”

“Try it. It’s delicious with cheese,” Sam encouraged him.

Reluctantly Luke took a bite, his face contorting as he waited for the sourness to hit his tongue. Surprisingly the bread and cheese tempered the flavor, making it only tangy, and its crispness gave the sandwich texture. “That’s good. I’ve never been adventurous with food. Just give me the same meal over and over, and I’m fine.”

“No, I plan to engage your palate with lots of different foods.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Luke asked.

Chuckling, Sam leaned into Luke’s side, resting his head on Luke’s shoulder. “I can’t imagine being without you, Luke.”

“You’d get along just fine.” He wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders, hugging him tightly. “But what did I tell you about coming near me outdoors?” he said quietly, giving Sam another hard squeeze and a kiss on the top of his head before shoving him away.

“Sorry to interrupt you fellas.”

The voice came from behind them. Both men turned quickly and got up. About twenty feet away atop a horse, a man looked at them. Luke’s heart pounded. Goddamn it! They weren’t safe anywhere except indoors at night. He stood looking into the glaring sun, trying to see who it was. He tipped his hat lower and made out one of the men from Fuller’s who had invited Sam to visit. Coming closer, the man dismounted and nodded at the creek. “You were lucky to get a piece of land with water.”

Sam rose. “Yes, sir.”

“Thought I’d wander over to see if I could find you.”

“Here I am.” Sam smiled.

“Will you be in town on Sunday for church?”

“I’m planning to, yes, sir,” Sam said.

“I hoped you’d come home with us for dinner. My family would sure like to meet you.”

“That’s very kind of you, sir,” Sam replied.

The man extended his hand. “Linden Morley. I have two daughters. Fine girls. See you Sunday.” He mounted his horse again and left without offering to shake Luke’s hand.

The men stood in silence, watching Morley leave.

Why can’t I be left in peace? Other men get to have a home and someone to love and support them. That’s all I want. Why is it too much to ask just because I want it with a man instead of a woman?

“Sorry,” Sam mumbled when the man was out of sight.

It wasn’t Sam’s fault. It was the world they lived in. They ate their dinner in silence after that and got back to work nailing tar paper over the shanty to keep out the rain. When the last piece of tar paper was nailed down, Luke climbed on Pretty Girl.

“Wait for me,” Sam said.

“You’re staying here,” Luke told him.

“What?” A pained look crossed Sam’s face. “Why?”

“Your shanty is fit to live in. You can move your furniture in without my help. You need to get used to living on your own land. I’ll come back tomorrow, and we’ll start the barn.” He paused before adding, “We can’t have that happening again.”

Sam didn’t need to ask what. It was plain from his nod that he knew exactly what Luke was referring to. “It’s not fair. If we were a man and a woman…”

“Well, we’re not,” Luke stated. “And life’s not fair. I figured that out years ago. It’s time you came to terms with it too.”

He rode home slowly. They couldn’t take any more risks. When he walked into the shanty, it felt cold and empty, just like the little house had felt before Sam had moved in. He might as well get used to it, because he was going to be lonely for a long time to come. Tired from the day’s work, Luke ate a cold supper of left over beef and went to bed as soon as it was dark. He lay awake thinking of Sam and the three precious months they’d shared. He just hoped Morley would keep his mouth shut in town—which he probably would if he wanted Sam to marry one of his daughters.

How am I going to live with Sam as my neighbor, watching him married just like Holland was married? I can’t do it.

A creak brought Luke bolt upright in bed. Had he locked the door? He couldn’t remember. His rifle hung on the gun hooks over the door out of his reach. His revolver was packed away. There were no curtains in the shanty, and the window beside the bed let the light of the moon in sufficiently that he could see the outline of a man. Was it Morley, or had he sent another, younger man to kill him? Luke held his breath as he decided whether to risk jumping the man or to dive for his rifle.

A chair went flying as the man tripped over it. A familiar voice said, “Darn!”

“Sam?”

“Who did you think it was?”

“I thought it was Morley come to kill me.” He was torn between relief and anger. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Sam sat on the side of the bed in a wedge of moonlight and pulled off his boots. “I was lonely. I missed you.” He unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it on the tea chest, then stood up to take off his trousers. “Why should I lie alone in my shanty and you here in yours? Though it looks like you had no trouble falling asleep. I couldn’t sleep without you.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Luke said.

Sam rolled over next to Luke, who pulled the young man into his arms. Luke loved the feel of his naked body next to Sam’s. He loved Sam’s warmth, the softness of his skin, and how pliable his lithe young body was. He slid one hand over Sam’s back until he gripped his buttocks.

“That feels good.” Sam’s voice was breathy. He grabbed Luke’s cock, and Luke took Sam’s, enclosing it tightly in his palm. They separated just a little to give themselves room and slowly massaged each other’s cocks. Luke opened his mouth and pressed it over Sam’s, thrusting his tongue inside. They took it very slow, probing each other’s mouths while rubbing each other’s cocks.

I love this man. How can this be wrong?

But he couldn’t pursue the thought just then, he was so aroused and engrossed in the sensations in his cock and his mouth. Gasping into Sam’s mouth, his pleasure rose still higher. His body felt as if it were vibrating. Sam pulled his mouth away from Luke’s as his back arched. He cried out, spilling his warm juices over Luke’s hand.

“Get over on your belly,” Luke told him. Sam obeyed at once, spreading his legs to accommodate Luke. Surrounded by darkness with only a thin streak of moonlight shining through the window, he straddled Sam’s ass and entered him. Sam turned his face to one side, gilding his profile with silver moonlight. “Handsome boy,” Luke whispered, for a moment so entranced by Sam’s beauty that he remained still gazing at him.

“Fuck me, my darling man,” Sam said.

Slowly, surely, Luke began to fuck him. As he fucked, his panting got louder until each thrust was a cry of pleasure and frustration at their situation and his realization of his growing love for Sam. A love that could never be realized and lived out like other people’s love.

Anger took over until his thrusts were so hard and aggressive that Sam cried out in pain. In a flood of sweet pleasure, Luke reached his climax and fell on Sam’s back, gasping as unfamiliar tears trickled down his face.

After a long while, Sam asked, “Are you all right, Luke?”

He rolled off onto his back, and Sam turned over to snuggle into his side. “Fine, boy. I’m just fine.”

He did not sob, and the room was too dark for Sam to detect his tears.
Thank God!
He’d die of embarrassment if anyone caught him crying. With his body still buzzing with pleasure, he kissed Sam’s forehead, glad he was there.

“Luke, now that my shanty is set up, why can’t I live here with you? To the neighbors it will look like I’m living on my own land. Who’d know?” In a lighter, smiling voice he said, “Then if you get mad with me, I can go back there.”