Winter Hearts (5 page)

Sam picked up the hare by the ears. “I do, and I’m a good shot.” He met Luke’s gaze. “Do you have any idea how to skin this thing?”

With a laugh, Luke said, “Of course I do, but you mean you haven’t read a book on how to skin a hare?”

Sam shook his head. “What do you say we give it to Mr. Ingram? He looks really thin to me. Then he can worry about skinning it.”

“That’s a good idea, boy. He told me his family ran out of food just about the same time I did. I think they’ve been living on seed wheat since then. But don’t you scare me like that again. I heard a shot, and next thing you got down off your horse. I thought someone was after us and you’d been hit.” Luke cuffed him around the ear, not enough to hurt him, but enough to knock his hat off.

Grinning, Sam picked up his hat. “Didn’t know you cared.”

* * * *

The sky was still clear when Sam knocked on the front door of the Ingram house with Luke beside him. It was actually a storefront like most of the other buildings lining Main Street.

“I hope we’re not disturbing them,” he said.

“I think they’ll be too grateful to care,” Luke answered.

Ingram opened the door.

Sam held out the hare, proud that it was a big one and surprisingly plump for such a hard winter. “By a stroke of luck this fellow was running on the prairie, and I took a shot. We thought your family might enjoy it, sir.” The man looked even thinner standing in the shadows of his doorway without his heavy buffalo coat than he had in Fuller’s.

For a moment he looked doubtful, making Sam wonder if he was insulting the man, but it took only a second more for him to reach out with a grateful nod. “Thank you, gentlemen. We’ll find a good use for it. Won’t you come in?”

At the same time that Luke said, “No,” Sam said, “Certainly.” He glanced at Luke, wondering if he had annoyed him. It didn’t take much to annoy Luke.

“Just for a minute. I think that storm’s heading back.”

Sam looked up at the bright, clear sky. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

“Come through. We’re not using the front room right now because we have so little coal left. We’re heating the back room only.”

Mr. Ingram stood back, and they went through an empty front room to another room at the back where the family sat around the stove. Mrs. Ingram rose to her feet, looking flustered at the sight of two strangers in her house. A small girl ran to her mother and hid behind her skirts.

Mr. Ingram held up the hare by its ears. “Look, Cecily. Mr. Chandler and Mr. Smith shot a hare. They insist that we have it.”

“That’s very kind of you,” the lady said quietly. She was a small woman with a pretty face and a quiet voice.

Mr. Ingram began a round of introductions. “This is my wife, Cecily.”

Sam bowed respectfully as he had been taught since he was a boy. “Ma’am.”

Luke merely nodded but said nothing. Hands stuffed into his coat pockets, he looked uncomfortable and couldn’t keep still, shifting about from foot to foot.

“My daughters, Marianne, Larissa, Cara, and that’s Ginny hiding behind her ma.” Sam offered a small bow to each of the girls in turn. The older two were probably fifteen and sixteen years old.

The eldest girl appeared to be blind. She stared straight ahead, and she was the only one who spoke. The other girls all looked very shy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Chandler, Mr. Smith.”

Sam stepped forward and gently took her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Marianne.”

“Well, we have to get back. I just know that storm’s heading back any minute. Enjoy the hare,” Luke said. He was on the doorstep again before Sam could bid them all good-bye.

“It was lovely to meet you ladies.” Sam bowed again. As Mr. Ingram showed him out, he heard Mrs. Ingram say, “What a lovely, polite young man.”

They walked back into Luke’s little house just as the sky began to darken. “What time is it?” Sam asked. “It’s getting dark.”

“It’s not that late. The storm’s coming back. There’s hardly a full day between them this past month. I think I’ll do the chores now.” Luke left the house again.

What’s the matter with him? He was fine when we were out riding.

Sam started the supper even though it was a little early. They had been outdoors only a few hours, but there was something about this weather that made him tired. By the time Luke came in, he had the supper ready to put on the table. From the stove he watched Luke throw the bedroll on the floor before hanging up his coat and hat. Every day it had crossed Sam’s mind to bring it in, but if Luke wasn’t pushing him, then he wasn’t going to bother. The fact that Luke had brought it in today made Sam wonder if he was angry about something. Each evening Sam looked forward to climbing into bed beside Luke and cuddling up to his back. After the first night, Luke had not objected, but he couldn’t figure out if it was because it was warmer or because the man actually liked him. Luke was a hard man to read.

I suppose tonight I’ll be sleeping on the floor.

They ate in silence as the storm started again, whirling around the house, isolating them from their neighbors. Sam cut a corner off his slice of salt pork. Even eating it every day, he hadn’t grown tired of it. If his family could see him now, eating such simple food in a log cabin with a man like Luke, they’d be appalled.

“Is something bothering you, Luke?”

“You calling me Luke is bothering me.” Head bent over his plate, he shoveled in a few mouthfuls of fried potatoes. “And what was all that bowing to the ladies? Where did you learn that shit anyway?”

Taken aback at the anger in Luke’s tone, Sam said, “I was raised to be polite. Is it a problem?”

“Not if you want the ladies to like you, which I guess you do.”

“I want everyone to like me,” Sam said quietly. “What’s wrong with that?”

Luke looked away. “Nothing.”

After supper they sat in silence beside the stove. The house was dark with just a little light from the open stove door. Sam couldn’t make out Luke’s face, and it didn’t matter anyway since Luke was so miserable all of a sudden. He wasn’t the jolliest man in the world to start with, but he looked morose tonight.

Luke kicked the stove door shut with his booted foot and stood up. “I’m going to bed.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Sam burst out.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been in a bad mood since we went to the Ingram house.”

“Go to bed!” Luke shouted.

“Fine!”

Feeling around on the floor in the dark for his bedroll, Sam bumped into the table. He brought the bedroll over to the stove, unfastened the buckles, and laid it out. In the pitch black he stripped down to his flannels and crawled in.

The wind howled, hurling needle-sharp snow against the house. Sam’s thoughts went back to five nights ago when he was struggling through the storm, wondering if he and Pip were going to die of cold out there. It was warm and snug curled up by the stove and protected by Luke’s little log house. But lying beside Luke in his bed was a far cry from lying on the floor.

What was he so mad about? Luke was a gruff, insular man at the best of times, but Sam thought he had cracked that hard exterior on a few occasions. Luke seemed to like it when Sam took care of him, and Sam enjoyed having someone to look after. It came naturally to him; he was a nurturer. But Luke took offense easily. No wonder he was on his own.

Sam listened closely. It was hard to hear much inside the house when the storm was so loud, and for some strange reason it always seemed louder at night. Still, what he could hear told him that Luke was not asleep. He was shifting around in bed.

“Good night, you old grump.”

No reply.

“I don’t know what got into you tonight, but whatever it is, I’m sorry if I did something wrong.”

“Go to sleep!”

At last there was no shuffling from the bed, and tired from the fresh air, Sam drifted off to sleep. When he awakened, he had no idea how long he had slept, but the house still lay in darkness, and the stove had burned nearly out. A freezing draft he had not noticed the past few days came from under the door. He lay on his right side, and his left ear and his nose were freezing.

“The hell with you, Luke,” he mumbled, crawling out of his bedroll. With his hands outstretched, he made his way to the bed, thinking about Mr. Ingram’s blind daughter. What a sweet girl she was, so pretty and with such a gentle voice.

Another step and Sam’s big toe slammed into the leg of the bed. “Oww!” He fell headlong onto the bed, landing on top of Luke.

“What the hell!” Luke had obviously been asleep. He sounded groggy, yet angry as he shoved Sam hard, adding insult to injury.

“I’m freezing.” Sam sounded plaintive and childlike even to himself. “The wind’s howling under the door.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“Nothing. I just want to get in bed with you to get warm.”

“Get in and be quiet, then,” Luke said.

Sam crawled under the heavy quilt, hanging on to his toe, which felt like he’d dropped a brick on it. “I stubbed my toe.” He moved in close to Luke’s warm body and put his cold feet on Luke’s legs.

“Get your feet off me. They’re freezing.”

“It’s your fault for making me sleep on the floor.” They sounded like an old married couple quarreling in bed. Luke turned his back, and Sam cuddled up against him as close as he could, but he was still shivering.

“You should have left your socks on,” Luke said.

“I was warm enough without my socks in bed with you. Why did you bring my bedroll in tonight?”

“Because this is my bed,” Luke said. “Stop shivering. It’s annoying.”

“I’d stop if you’d hug me,” Sam said softly.

“Don’t be an idiot. I’m not hugging you.”

Slowly Sam drew warmth from Luke’s body. He stopped shivering and softened into Luke’s back, his cheek pressed against Luke’s shoulder. At first Luke was stiff, but after a while he settled down.

Will he punch me if I touch him?

He wanted so badly to wrap his fist around Luke’s cock but was terrified of the reaction he’d get. He wasn’t even sure Luke liked men, but he’d found during his Harvard years that even men who didn’t care for other men like that would let another man fondle or suck them in the right circumstances. Luke might not want to reciprocate, but Sam didn’t care. He just wanted to feel Luke’s cock in his hand and to give him pleasure.

Watching for any slight movement that might suggest Luke was unhappy, he slowly slid his arm over Luke’s waist and let it lie there for a while.

“You awake?” he whispered.

“How can I sleep with you moving around?”

“Sorry.” He waited, not daring to move his hand nearer to Luke’s cock. What if he pretended to be asleep and then shifted his body, letting his hand fall over Luke’s crotch? No. If he was going to be that obvious, then he might just as well reach for it openly and risk a fist in his face. But the longer he lay there, the less he thought that would be Luke’s response.

Now was the moment. He reached down, cupping Luke’s cock through the thin, well-washed fabric of his flannels. Luke’s cock was hard as a rock, and it felt big. If he was aroused just lying next to Sam, then he must have some interest in men.

Luke didn’t move or speak. That was a good sign.

Sam’s cock thickened as a rush of pleasure ran up his belly. It was difficult in the darkness and with only one hand to unfasten the crotch buttons, and it took more than a minute to accomplish it. He kept hoping Luke would assist him, but he didn’t move a muscle. Neither did he protest. Was he pretending to be asleep? Who cared? He sure as hell wasn’t fighting Sam off.

Finally Luke’s cock was free. Sam enclosed its rigid length in his fist, amazed at its heat and thickness. Still Luke had not moved or spoken, but he gasped loudly when Sam gripped his cock. He adjusted his position slightly to give Sam better access. Slowly Sam massaged Luke’s cock up and down its length. His own cock was stiff and so aroused it burned with pleasure. Pressing his hips against Luke’s buttocks, he ground his cock hard against him. Finally Luke began to moan out loud. Thrilled that he had caused such a reaction, Sam worked his hand faster, up and down, in rhythm with his thrusting hips. Luke spent first, panting loudly. Warm fluid dripped over Sam’s hand while Luke pressed his hand over Sam’s to stop the friction. Sam rubbed his cock harder against Luke’s buttocks until his body flooded with that warm, overwhelming sensation only another man could induce in him.

The storm still raged outside the little house, but the storm inside had settled to the softness of a warm summer breeze. Luke lay still against Sam’s body, and Sam felt more content than he had in a very long time.

Chapter Six

Luke turned onto his side to look at Sam’s handsome face in the dim morning light. The storm shrouded the house, cocooning them snug and safe from the world. Had that really happened last night, or had he dreamed Sam’s hand on his cock and the sweetest spend he’d ever experienced? Luke reached down to find his cock still exposed and his crotch buttons undone. Yep. It had happened.

Would it be like it was with the men in the mines and that time on that isolated ranch in Minnesota when he’d had sex with men, and the next day, by unspoken mutual agreement, nobody acknowledged it? The next time they were all near a town with a saloon or a brothel, the men would go looking for a woman as if the encounters had never happened. They’d satisfied each other in the moment with no love and no affection. At the time it had made him angry, but he was young then and foolish.

It was better that way, he thought now. Less embarrassing. Who the hell wanted to talk about sex after the fact anyway?

Like a sleepy child, Sam opened his eyes and smiled. “Hi, Luke.”

Luke rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. The logs were frosted over, but the frost always melted when the house warmed up. “I’d better get that stove lit. I hope the coal lasts till spring.” It was the most innocuous thing he could think to say. As unobtrusively as possible, he buttoned the crotch of his flannels.

“If it doesn’t, we can stay in bed and cuddle.” Sam rolled over, throwing his arm over Luke’s belly and snuggling into his side.