Winter Hearts (23 page)

It could not work with Sam, not in the long term, so it was better to be over as soon as possible so he could settle into life on his own. All the bitterness he felt about Holland had returned this past week, poisoning him all over again. His belly hurt, his head hurt, everything in his world felt askew.

A sound like thunder made Luke look up even though he was still in the barn fussing around the animals, making sure they were content. Now that the crop was in, a sudden storm wouldn’t damage anything. He walked outside and looked up at the sky to find it clear and beautiful—but the noise continued. A dark moving mass on the horizon drew his gaze.

What the hell?

Sam was outside the shanty to look in the direction of the noise, and Luke’s protective instincts kicked in as he ran toward him. The fast-moving mass came into clearer view now. Five men on horseback and a black carriage that looked more like a peddler’s cart than anything pulled by four horses headed toward them.

“What’s going on?” Luke asked as they drew closer.

Squinting to make out the scene better, Sam said, “The two men driving the carriage are my uncles, and that’s another one on horseback.”

“Who are the others?”

Sam moved closer to Luke. “I don’t know.”

The thundering stopped as the horses and the strange black carriage drew to a halt, sliding on the grass in front of the shanty. Luke didn’t wear his gun around the claim, and he was outnumbered anyway. In total there were seven men, five with guns drawn, one wearing a silver star with the word
Sheriff
, with
Kingsbury
over top and
County
imprinted underneath it. Another wore a star proclaiming him to be deputy sheriff, Kingsbury County.

The men on horseback dismounted, and Sam’s uncles climbed down from the carriage.

“I’m Sheriff William Wade.” The thick-muscled man of about forty years old with a toothpick in his mouth strode toward Luke, and after looking back to ensure the other men still had their guns drawn, he holstered his. “Luke Chandler, I have a warrant here for your arrest on a charge of sodomy.” He held up the paper for Luke to see. “I am taking you to Volga to stand trial.”

Immobilized by shock, Luke remained silent, staring at the man.

To Sam the sheriff said, “Mr. Porter-Smith, your family is here to take you home to Boston.”

Sam spoke up loud and clear. “We’ve done nothing wrong, and I’m going nowhere. I’m nineteen years old, and you can’t force me to return home.”

Standing with his feet wide apart as if he owned Luke’s land and everything else under the sun, the sheriff replied, “We can force you. You are not yet twenty-one years old.”

Luke despised him. If he’d had a gun, he’d have shot the man dead just for being so damned arrogant. The two men who had driven the carriage came to stand in front of Sam.

“This needs to stop, Sam. You’ve had your fun. Now it’s time to come home and face your responsibilities.”

“I’m not coming, and you can’t arrest Luke. He did nothing but take me in last winter out of a storm that would have killed me. He saved my life.”

“And now he’s ruining it. Your mother had a letter from a Mr. Linden Morley explaining everything he’s seen. We’re taking you home.”

Pulling a pair of iron wrist manacles from his back pocket, the sheriff said, “Turn around, Chandler.”

The urge to hit the sheriff had Luke balling his fists, but he wouldn’t stand a chance against seven men. He’d be dead before he made contact with the man’s face. Angry and humiliated that this could happen on his own land, he turned his back, allowing the man to restrain him. For a moment he met Sam’s gaze and saw the sorrow in the young man’s eyes. “This is all your fault.”

“Luke, I’m so sorry.”

“Shut up, boy. I told you to leave. You should be gone by now.”

“I’m not leaving. I’m trained in the law, and I’ll come to Volga with you. They have no evidence except the word of a man who wants me to marry his daughter. And if they want to charge you with sodomy, then they can charge me too.”

“Shut up, boy!” Now Sam was going too far. Luke would not have these men know he’d let Sam fuck him. The very idea of talking in public about their intimacy made him hot with embarrassment.

The uncle grabbed Sam by the arm. “Samuel, if you do not come willingly, we’ll take you by force just as your mother threatened in her letter.”

Sam attempted to yank his arm away, but another man came up beside them, grabbing his other arm. “I’m not coming, Uncle Perry. What you’re doing here is wrong.”

“We don’t care if you hate us forever, Samuel. We’re doing this for your own good. Eventually you’ll realize that. One day you’ll thank us.”

With a mighty effort Sam began to fight the men. Handcuffed and helpless, Luke made an attempt to kick the man nearest to him. “Leave him alone!” Angry as he might be at Sam, he could not bear anyone hurting or frightening him, and Sam looked scared at that moment. It was Luke’s responsibility to protect his man, and he couldn’t.

With one foot the sheriff kicked Luke’s feet out from under him. With no hands to protect himself, Luke went down heavily on his chest, which knocked the wind out of him. Stunned from the fall and enraged at being overpowered, he could do nothing while the men lifted him bodily, carrying him to the back doors of the carriage. They dumped him inside the dark interior. The sheriff’s deputy climbed in after him, and a moment later, also manacled, Sam joined them. Sam sat on the floor where Luke lay. Over and over he said, “I’m so sorry, Luke. I should have stayed out of your life. I’ve brought this on you. I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, you damn well have. What the hell is going to happen to the animals with no one to look after them? Thank God I got my crop in.”

After a while Luke was able to sit up and finally to get to his feet in order to sit on the bench. The carriage, he realized now, had barred windows. Looking out, he saw they were driving down Main Street with the entire town looking on. By now the townsfolk would all know who was being taken away and why. Standing on the board sidewalk outside the bank was Linden Morley, rocking back on his heels with his thumbs tucked into his suspenders. Through the barred window Luke made eye contact with the man and saw him smile.

On the five-hour journey, Luke would neither respond to Sam’s pleas to talk to him, nor would he look at him. His life was in shreds because of Sam’s lies.

It was dark when they reached the sheriff’s office in Volga.

“You’re getting out here, Chandler,” the deputy said. “And you are going with your family, Mr. Porter-Smith.”

“No! I’m going with Luke,” Sam protested.

When the carriage door opened, Luke saw the uncles and the sheriff crowded around. A small group of men from the town gathered also to enjoy the spectacle. The deputy nudged Luke with the end of his gun. “Come on, Chandler. Get down.”

With difficulty, not having the use of his hands, Luke made his way to the open doors. The carriage was high, so he sat on the floor with his legs hanging down to make jumping out easier. Impatient, the sheriff grabbed him by the arm to pull him out. Losing his footing, Luke stumbled and fell on his knees.

“Let him go,” Sam cried out.

From his ignominious position on the dusty road, Luke looked up at Sam. “You’ve been nothing but trouble, you little fuck. I never want to set eyes on you again. You come near me again, and I’ll kick your skinny ass back to Boston. You mean nothing to me.”

“I love you!” he heard Sam scream before the doors were closed on him.

The crowd began to snigger at Sam’s words.

The deputy and the two men grabbed Luke by the arms and dragged him along while he scrambled to get his feet under him. All the time he could hear Sam screaming his name through the barred window of the carriage while kicking on the sides.

The sheriff and deputy hauled Luke inside with the crowd following and threw him into the cell at the back. It was nothing more than a cage with three board walls and a wall of bars in front. “Take off the goddamned handcuffs,” he bellowed at them.

Ignoring him, the sheriff faced the crowd of men. “Out you go, all of you.”

“What’s he under arrest for?” a man with dirty clothes and a voice slurred by drink asked.

“Sodomy,” the sheriff told them.

The threats and jokes that followed made Luke nervous for his safety. There were at least ten men crowded into the small office.

“Out!” Sheriff Wade began to push them toward the door. When he had finally cleared the room, he looked at Luke while still chewing his toothpick. “I’m going home for my supper. I’ll lock the door, or those men will be back with a noose to take care of you before you can go before a judge.” He laughed.

For hours Luke stood leaning against the bars with his hands still manacled, unable even to unbutton his trousers to take a piss. Worry about the claim and anger at Sam and his situation kept him agitated. The barn door was open when Luke was dragged away, and it was dark now, leaving the animals open to attack from wolves, not to mention horse thieves. The animals would need food and water by now. They could manage one night without extra food, but who would take care of them tomorrow?

The shanty door had been left open too, which meant animals could wander in and damage the place. Then there was the worry about claim jumpers. If the place was left untended, and who knew how long it would be before he returned, squatters could move in.

Luke’s anger at Sam boiled up to the point where he was raging. If he couldn’t piss in the bucket, he could certainly kick it about the cell—which he did until he was exhausted. Normally he could work a full day in the field and not be as tired as he felt just then.

It was dark when the sheriff returned, still chewing on his toothpick. He was alone this time, and he’d brought food with him. Wade put the plate on the floor and told Luke to stand at the back of the cell. He opened the door with his gun in his other hand and pushed the plate of food through with the toe of his boot before locking the door again.

“Now turn around and put your hands through the bars. And don’t do anything stupid. I’d hate to have to shoot you.”

Seeing no other choice, Luke obeyed. He was a man who hated taking orders, but sometimes it was the only response. When his hands were free, he righted the piss bucket and took a long leak.

Wade pointed at the plate. “Eat up and be grateful I’m feeding you, considering the charge.”

Not caring anymore about the insults, Luke said, “I’m more worried about feeding my animals than myself.”

Wade sat in his chair and put his feet up on the desk, crossed at the ankle. He took the toothpick out of his mouth and began actively picking his teeth. “Nothing I can do about that. The boy’s family made a complaint, and a judge saw fit to issue a warrant. My job was to arrest you.”

“I want to see a lawyer,” Luke said.

“How can a farmer afford a lawyer?”

“I worked in the mines for three years. I have money in the bank.”

“I hope you left a will, because you can be hanged if you’re found guilty.” The sheriff did not look at him. “Eat your meal. My wife made it.”

Luke picked up his plate, deciding he might as well eat. “Is there a lawyer in town? There must be. There’s one in De Smet now, and it’s a quarter of the size of Volga.”

“There’s a lawyer. I’ll tell him tomorrow that you’ll be wanting his services.”

“Tell him tonight!” Luke’s frustration was getting the better of him.

Wade stood and walked swiftly toward the cell. “I’ll tell him tomorrow, if you’re lucky. He might not want your money, considering you buggered that young man.” Wade leaned against the bars. “What exactly did you do with that rich boy?”

As angry as Luke was with Sam, he hating denying that he loved him or that they had expressed their love physically, but he must. “I did nothing to Sam Smith. I took him in out of a storm, and he turned out to be a deceitful little fox.”

Picking his teeth while he spoke, Wade said, “Someone somewhere got the idea you were buggering him.”

“They were wrong.” Luke handed the plate and fork through the bars and went to lie down on the bunk. Within minutes he was scratching. He leaped up and looked closely at the stained straw tick. It was crawling with lice. He looked at Wade, who was watching him, his eyes narrowed in amusement.

“I’ve been meaning to throw out that old tick for a while.”

Luke lay down on the floor. “Get me that fucking lawyer.”

* * * *

When Luke had got out of the carriage, Sam’s uncles got in, with the two men he didn’t know remaining in front to drive. Furious, Sam kicked at the carriage doors with both feet until his uncles pulled him away, restraining him. “I hate you all,” he screamed like a child.

“You’ll thank us later,” Peregrine Porter-Smith told him. “Your parents sent us to bring you home after Linden Morley wrote to your father saying you were living with a farmer, a rough, unmarried man. It was bad enough when we all thought you were on your own land, but this is going too far, Samuel.”

“It’s my life!” he screamed.

“No, it’s not,” Jackson Porter-Smith said. “You have a responsibility to your family and the business. Your life was never going to be your own. When you’re back in Boston among your family and your own kind, you’ll realize where you belong.”

“I belong with Luke. I love him,” Sam said recklessly.

The uncles exchanged looks but refused to respond to the declaration. Desperate, Sam began bargaining. “Let’s go back to Volga. You can tell the sheriff to let Luke go, and I’ll come back to Boston with you then. Luke’s angry with me anyway for lying about who I am. He wanted me to leave three days ago. Just tell the sheriff to let him go, please.”

“That’s not going to happen, Samuel,” Uncle Julian Soames, his mother’s brother, told him. “We have no intention of pursuing a case against Chandler. When he comes before a judge with no witnesses against him, they’ll have to dismiss the charge. He’ll be out in a few weeks, and we hope he has the sense to stay away from you.”

“You can’t leave a farm unattended for a few weeks. There’s the animals to look after. Pip is there.”