Winter Hearts (17 page)

Luke closed his eyes and felt Sam’s cheek rest on his shoulder, Sam’s warm breath feathering his back. He squeezed his buttocks tight when Sam’s hand began to stroke his ass, tracing the crack with one finger. “You’ve got a hairy ass,” Sam said.

“You like it?” Luke asked.

“Yes. I love it.” Sam leaned down, dropping tantalizing kisses over Luke’s buttocks.

Each kiss and the feel of Sam’s breath against his ass made Luke’s cock thicken. He was so aroused that he wanted to be fucked. After his initial fear, he wanted to feel Sam’s cock inside him. “Do it. You’re driving me mad.”

Sam shoved Luke’s thighs apart and got between them. He looked over his shoulder to see Sam spitting into his palm and then rubbing it on his cock. Sam looked up, catching Luke’s gaze, and smiled.

Luke closed his eyes again and waited, consciously releasing all the tension in his muscles. First he felt the tip of Sam’s cock pressed against his hole. Sam’s hands were braced on the bed on either side of his hips. Then, slowly, deliberately, Sam eased his cock inside Luke a fraction of an inch at a time. Pleasure shot up Luke’s ass, blossoming in his belly and thighs like ivy unfurling and spreading, taking over everything around it. He pushed himself up on his elbows, his head hanging down.

At first Sam fucked him unhurriedly, easing in and out. Then he sped up, pulling out and plunging in hard. The harder Sam fucked, the higher Luke’s pleasure rose. The sense of vulnerability that had made him say no to Sam the first time, and no to so many other men, was gone, leaving him open to Sam’s love.

Pressed between his belly and the bed, Luke’s cock rubbed against the quilt, searing the tender skin. Just as he felt Sam go still, his own cock pulsed harder, pumping out his fluids while thundering climax overwhelmed him. Behind him Sam suddenly thrust fast and furiously, pounding his hips against Luke’s buttocks before he collapsed on top of him, biting and kissing his shoulders.

Lying flat on the bed now with Sam on top of him, still embedded deep within him, Luke felt more content than he had ever felt in his life. Why couldn’t it be like this forever? Luke and Sam, safe on their land, protected from the world, self-sufficient and in love.

“I love you so much, boy.”

Sam pulled out slowly and rolled off Luke’s back. He lay beside him, smiling. “I love you too. You’re my man, forever and always.”

Luke pulled Sam into his arms, holding him tightly. “We’ll be good together. I’ll take care of you. But you can’t ever keep stuff to yourself. You tell me everything. Understood?”

“Understood,” Sam agreed. “Now…do you want your potato salad?”

“Yes. I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Sam teased.

“And then I have a fence to finish, and you can help me. Do you know how to build a fence?”

“No, but I’m always ready to learn.”

Still naked, Sam set the table and served the dinner while Luke watched him from the bed, smiling.

Everything will work out.

Chapter Fourteen

“You sure this is a good idea?” Luke asked.

Sam looked up from the dry sink where he was washing himself. “I’m going to help bless the church. Why isn’t that a good idea?”

“You know why. Because by now every man in town will know we’re living together and that you gave up your claim to move into a shanty with a man ten years older than you. A man like me.”

Sam smiled, but he had to force it. “A man like you? Strong and handsome and capable.” He hated it when Luke looked nervous. Luke was a man who could handle anything. If Luke was nervous, Sam knew there was good reason to be scared, and he was scared, but he would not let it keep him from church.

Luke sat at the table finishing his coffee. “Yeah, a man like me. Rough, common, who arrived in town with his eyes still black from a brawl. They’ll think I led you astray.”

Sam dried himself on a clean towel. “I seem to remember it was me who made the first move.” He was trying to lighten the moment, but nothing would dissuade Luke from his concerns. Sam strode over and leaned down to kiss him gently on the mouth. “Everything will be fine. We have to be able to go into town. Sometimes there’ll be things we need that you can’t make, even though you’re so clever and you can do just about anything.” He kissed Luke again. “I love you, my darling man.”

Refusing to be placated, Luke stood and began to stack the dishes. “What have I told you about calling me stupid names?”

“That’s an order I’m not going to obey. Leave the dishes; I’ll do them in a minute,” Sam told him. “I’ve got time, sweetheart.” He walked over to the cedar chest to take out a clean shirt.

Sounding irritated, Luke said, “I can wash a couple of plates and mugs. Are you finished sprucing yourself up?” He didn’t wait for an answer but got the pot of hot water from the stove and filled the sink.

As he buttoned his shirt and tucked it in neatly, Sam watched Luke cleaning dishes and wiping the table. Luke didn’t do household chores often, but when he did, he did a good job.

“What should I do with the fat from the salt pork?”

“Pour it into the drippings jar on the shelf above the sink,” Sam said. “I’d better get going.”

Luke neither responded nor turned from his chore, but Sam knew he’d heard. When Luke was upset, he went silent. Sam walked over to kiss him on the cheek. Still he got no response.

It wasn’t until Sam was mounted on Pip and ready to ride into town that Luke came out of the shanty. “Be careful,” he said.

Sam rode over and leaned down to kiss him again. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll be worried till I see you back here with no bruises.”

* * * *

The new church building held many more people than the schoolhouse, so all the children were expected to sit inside and behave during the service. Sam walked in quietly and stood at the back, alert to any unfriendliness. But the people in town knew him and Luke by now. They knew they were good men who worked hard and paid for everything they bought with cash. Maybe they were just sharing a farm, a couple of bachelors helping each other out. How could anyone know what they did in private? Luke was overly sensitive because of that incident in New York. At the same time, Sam had lived through the disaster of his parents finding out about him and Courtland, so he knew how mean and untrustworthy people could be.

The service had not yet started, and so a hum of conversation filled the church.

Near the front Linden Morley turned around. When he saw Sam, he waved him forward. As much as he would rather not sit with the Morleys and give them any encouragement, Sam was relieved things seemed normal. Sam nodded his thanks and walked down the narrow aisle. About halfway a booted foot stuck out, tripping him. He fell headlong on the wood floor and looked up to see the grinning face of a man he’d seen only once that he could recall, in the lumberyard when he’d bought wood for the shanty. The congregation fell silent.

Morley rose to his feet. “There’s no need for that,” he said loudly. He was a wealthy man by De Smet standards, and people listened to him. Sam got up and joined the family in their pew. Morley directed him to sit between Veronica and Josephine.

The service proceeded without incident, and when it was over, Mrs. Morley turned to Sam. “You’ll join us for the picnic, Sam?”

“I was planning on heading home after the service, ma’am.”

“But everyone’s brought picnic lunches, and the ladies have been baking pies all week. Just wait until you taste Josephine’s blueberry pie. There’s going to be a pie-tasting contest. Josephine is sure to win.”

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, the young woman said, “Mama, there’re ladies in town who’ve been baking pies far longer than I have.”

Before he could stop himself, Sam said, “If it’s anything like that cake you baked, it’s sure to be good.”

The joy on the faces of the Morleys was not to be contained. Josephine merely smiled.

Most of the town and those living on claims were at the picnic. Sam felt he had no choice but to join the family. Mr. Morley placed their blanket strategically in the middle of the grassy area in front of the church, forcing the other families to gather around them. Mrs. Morley sat down to unpack their hamper while Sam stood beside Josephine. The young reverend wandered among the people, greeting everyone, chatting with the ladies, and patting children on the heads. He paid special attention to Josephine, who giggled in a way she did not when Sam spoke to her.

“You like him,” Sam whispered to her when the man had moved on.

“No, I don’t,” she said automatically, adding, “What makes you say that?”

“The way you look at him. You don’t look at me like that even though your parents want you to.”

“And you’ll never look at me like that either, though Papa says you look at Mr. Chandler that way. I’ve heard him talking to Mama about it when they think we girls aren’t listening.”

Their gazes locked in a brief standoff.

“I don’t care what you do,” she said. “But I wish Mama and Papa would stop talking about you. I don’t want a man who is more interested in another man than he is in me.”

“Have people in town been talking about us, Luke and me?”

“Yes. At least the men do. Papa tells them to shut up when I’m around, but I’ve still heard them.”

Sam looked about him, wondering if he should head home now. Josephine’s words made him edgy. But no one appeared to be paying him any special attention.

Mrs. Morley’s shrill voice drew their attention. “Sit down, both of you.”

Sam politely took Josephine’s hand to assist her while Mrs. Morley beamed her approval. He should probably have denied any intimacy between Luke and him, but aside from the fact that Josephine didn’t give a damn and couldn’t take her eyes off the reverend, he hated denying the man he loved.

He didn’t have much of an appetite, but he ate some fried chicken to be polite.

“Son, come over here with me,” Morley said after they had eaten. He stood up, and Sam followed him a few feet from his wife and daughters. “I was in Boston a week or so ago.”

“Yes, sir, you told me that.” What the hell was the man getting at?

“Samuel Porter-Smith the third.” Eyebrows raised, he looked Sam in the eyes as if to say,
Aren’t I clever?
When Sam failed to respond, he continued. “Now why would you come to De Smet pretending to be plain old Sam Smith when you are the heir to Porter-Smith Shipping and Investments? A Boston Brahmin. I knew you had that accent for all you’ve been trying to disguise it.”

Now Sam would have to tell Luke. “I didn’t want people judging me by my family. I wanted to make my own way.”

Morley slapped him on the back. “That’s admirable, but you can’t run away from your heritage forever. Sooner or later you have to take up the family business for your father.”

“How do you know all this?” Sam was getting angry. It took a lot to annoy him, but he didn’t like being spied on.

“I asked around about you.”

“Is that why you went to Boston, to spy on me?” There was an edge to his normally calm, polite voice that Morley detected at once.

“Take it easy, son. I had business in Boston. I just took the opportunity to follow up on you, that’s all. Does your family know you’re here?”

He still hadn’t read those letters. “Yes, they know I’m here, but I’d appreciate it if you’d keep any information you have about me to yourself—not just from my family but from the townsfolk too.”

“Of course I will. It’s just between you and me. But you know that’s the reason Chandler wants you. He’s nothing but a common man from an ordinary family. He wants to get his hooks into your wealth.”

“No, sir,” Sam said firmly. “Luke knows nothing about my family. He thinks I’m plain old Sam Smith. It’s you who is interested in my wealth.”

“No, son. I’m interested in an alliance.”

Angry now, Sam said something he would never say unless driven to it. “My family doesn’t make alliances with men like you. You’d have to have a hundred times the wealth and breeding you have.”

When another man approached, Morley put his arm around Sam’s shoulders, moving him farther away from the picnickers. “I’ll ignore that remark because I have more money than you realize.”

“It wouldn’t make any difference.”

“I heard you were involved with some boy at Harvard and your folks weren’t too happy about it, and that was why you left.”

Sam’s belly tightened with anger. He wanted to shrug Morley off and walk away, but his upbringing wouldn’t allow for that kind of disrespect, even to an interfering man like him.

“You don’t want to be coming here and getting involved with the same kind of shenanigans. This is an opportunity for a new start. Then when you go back to Boston to take up your inheritance, you can be normal. Like other men.”

Normal
. That was the word his parents kept using. This
was
normal for him. He liked men. He loved Luke. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”

“Linden!”

They turned to see Mrs. Morley walking toward them.

“Why are you keeping Sam all to yourself? Let him come and sit with the girls. I’m sure he’s much more interested in looking at an attractive young lady than at you.”

“We’ll be there in a minute, Clara. Go and sit down.”

But she persisted. “How long are you going to be?”

“Sit down!”

Mrs. Morley walked back to the blanket to join her daughters. But the way he had spoken to his wife made Sam look anew at the man whom, until now, he had found merely annoying. Morley could be mean.

“Now, where were we?”

“I was about to leave, Mr. Morley. I need to get back to the claim.”

“The one you’re sharing with Chandler,” he said. “That man is leading you into bad habits. He was lonely from a bad winter, and then a handsome young fellow like you knocks on his door in a storm; you didn’t stand a chance. But that’s over now. You need to move out of there as fast as you can. Come and stay with us for a while. Get to know my girls a little better.”

Mustering all the good manners he had been taught from birth, Sam said, “Thank you, Mr. Morley, but I don’t think so. I’m working the claim with Luke. I’m learning how to farm and other things I could never learn at Harvard or in the family business.”