Winter Hearts (7 page)

“What the hell are you doing now?” he asked.

Without a word Sam threw back the blankets and rolled onto his belly, shifting his legs slightly apart. “Take me,” he said simply.

Both hopeful and angry, Luke said, “You don’t know what you’re saying, boy. You brought food. That will pay your rent till spring. I don’t need your ass as well.”

Sam remained still. Luke reached out blindly, making contact with Sam’s back. He ran his hand down until he felt smooth, round buttocks, and heard Sam’s breathing grow faster. Luke landed a hard slap on the young man’s ass. Sam released a short, sharp cry and then a giggle.

“That’s it. Sleep on the damn floor and freeze!” Luke shoved Sam hard and heard a thud followed by a groan when he landed on the floor. Again Luke lay down and turned his back. Even the wind and snow scouring the house seemed to have ceased their racket, yet he could not hear Sam’s breathing and wondered if the boy had hit his head.

The moment was as frozen as the vast prairie while he lay, holding his breath, waiting for any sound from Sam. Then, as if he had dropped from above, the young man landed on top of him, straddling his body. In seconds they were all-out wrestling. The quilt fell to the floor as they tussled. Luke felt himself floundering on the edge of the bed. With a loud, dull sound, they both hit the floorboards, Luke underneath. Even as they struggled, he was glad he had not landed on top of Sam. Being the bigger man, he would have hurt him. He threw Sam off and attempted to scramble to his feet but never made it to his knees before Sam was on top of him, wrestling him again.

“I’m going to kill you, you shit-assed kid!” he bellowed.

Every time he tried to break free, Sam came after him. Luke had the strength of a mature man, but Sam had the endurance and boundless energy of youth on his side. What was also on Sam’s side, though he didn’t know it, was a lack of desire on Luke’s part to hurt him.

When he tired of fighting, Luke gave up and lay flat on his back, panting loudly, with Sam stretched out full-length on top of him. Though the floor was freezing cold, they were warm from exertion. An involuntary moan erupted from Luke’s throat at the feel of Sam’s tongue licking his neck. He lay, unmoving, as the young man worked his way upward to Luke’s ear. Desire burned deep inside Luke’s belly, his cock thickening and stretching against Sam’s groin.

“You know you want me,” Sam said against his ear.

“Cocky bastard.” Luke smiled as he said the words, unsure which feeling predominated, admiration or annoyance. “You want it, you got it. Get on the bed. Facedown.”

Sam did as he was told, while Luke, hardly able to control himself, straddled Sam’s hips. He unfastened his crotch, but that wasn’t enough. He wanted his skin next to Sam’s. He wanted to feel the young man pressed against him. As quickly as he could, he undid all the buttons and struggled out of his underwear. All the while Sam waited patiently, unmoving until, naked, Luke straddled him again. Thank God Sam had the sense to keep his mouth shut, because if he had spoken, it would have broken the spell.

Luke spat several times into his palm before slicking his cock with it. Wishing he had some light, but relieved that he didn’t, he pried Sam’s buttocks apart, entering him swiftly. With long, slow thrusts, he fucked Sam, reveling in the sensation of his cock buried deep in another man’s ass. When it flooded him, that thing he had no name for, he gasped and cried out his pleasure, knowing that no matter how loud he screamed, the wind on the prairie would sweep the noise away in its wake.

Calm again, and filled with relief, he rolled off Sam’s back to lie beside him. “Get the quilt. We’re going to freeze.”

Sam straightened the sheets and blankets and then pulled the quilt over the bed again.

That done, the young man moved into Luke’s arms, resting his head on Luke’s shoulder. Sam took Luke’s hand, guiding it down. Gripping the young man’s cock in his palm, Luke rubbed it up and down with fast, heavy friction until Sam moaned long and softly, indicating that his pleasure had come. When it was over, releasing the tension in Sam’s body, he lay quietly in Luke’s arms until his breathing became even, and Luke knew he was asleep.

For a long time while the storm whirled about the house, mirroring Luke’s storm of emotion, he lay hanging on tightly to Sam, not wanting to let him go.

Chapter Seven

Sam looked over at the bed where Luke still slept flat on his back, the quilt thrown down to his waist now that heat from the stove blasted the small house. With the ladle Sam poured four more pancakes into the frying pan, watching as they rose, bubbles forming around the edges. He flipped them and looked again at Luke’s broad chest and muscled arms. Luke kept his hair cut down to a quarter inch, and there was at least that much growth on his face.

Slowly he opened his eyes.

Sam smiled. “Hungry?”

Luke didn’t return the smile. “I’m always hungry.”

“What for, pancakes or my ass?”

That was the wrong thing to say. Luke rolled onto his side, turning away from him. Why did this man withdraw every time Sam tried to be sweet or amusing with him? True, they hadn’t known each other for more than a week, but they’d been as intimate as two men could be.

“Breakfast is ready,” Sam told him quietly.

Luke got out of bed, pulled on his flannels, fastened it up to his waist, allowing the top to hang down, and came to the table. Sam put the tin plate loaded with pancakes and salt pork in front of him. Luke poured molasses all over his pancakes and ate his meal in silence.

Sam watched him for a while as his pancakes went cold. “You’re an old grump, Luke.” Less interested in his food than he was in looking at this rough yet handsome man, Sam put his elbow on the table and rested his cheek on his fist. “You’re handsome, though. Did you know that?”

A slight flush rose up Luke’s cheeks. “You’ve got too much to say. And I told you to call me Chandler. If the men in town hear you call me Luke, they’ll think something’s going on.”

“Something is going on.”

Luke met Sam’s gaze with an angry glare. “Eat your goddamned breakfast!”

Rearing back as if threatened by a panther, Sam got the coffeepot and filled their tin cups. He put the pot back on the stove to stay hot and sat down, then reached across the table to take Luke’s big, strong hand.

Snatching it away, Luke glared at him. “What’s wrong with you, boy?”

Wrestling the hand back into his, Sam grinned. “Nothing. There’s no one here but us. What does it matter?”

With his mouth full, Luke said, “How did you know I wouldn’t beat your ass for touching me yesterday, not to mention what you did last night?” He snatched his hand back again and held on to his tin mug.

“Because we’re the same. I knew right away. Another man wouldn’t pick it up, but I knew.”

“Pick up on what?” Luke frowned, looking concerned. “How do you know I’m not just desperate from being here alone all winter? The men in the gold mines would rub up against anything that moved after a few months. Even the horses weren’t safe.”

Sam laughed. “You like men. I like men. It’s that simple.”

“If you think it’s simple, you’re crazy. Did you do the outdoor chores?”

“Yes, the animals are fed. I got up early, but you looked like you needed more sleep. I wore you out last night.” He paused, looking at the angry man before him. “What did I do? Don’t you like me?”

A long, low growl issued from the other man. “I’ll be glad when you’re on your land and I’m on mine.”

“You didn’t think that last night.”

“You’re old enough to know better than to be talking out loud about this stuff. You do it, but you don’t talk about it. How old are you, boy?” Luke asked.

“Nineteen,” Sam said.

“You can’t be. You need to be twenty-one to take up a claim,” Luke replied.

Sam cut his pancake into quarters, dipped a piece in molasses, and ate it. “I lied. And I had the money for the filing fee. That’s all that mattered to the man at the land office.”

“Where’d you get the money to come out here?” Luke asked.

“I earned it. I saved because I wanted to get out of Boston.” That was as much as Sam was going to say about his life.

“You’re from Boston too? Why didn’t you say so before? I told you I grew up in Jamaica Plain.”

Sam shrugged.

“Where about did you live?”

The South Slope of Beacon Hill, but he wasn’t going to tell Luke he was a Boston Brahmin. He’d left Boston to get away from all that for a while. “Charlestown.” He hadn’t planned to lie, but he didn’t want Luke to know his background. “My father works in a tannery.” Why the Sam Hill had he said that? Because Luke wasn’t the kind of man who’d have much patience with a rich boy. At this point Sam would do anything to make Luke like him.

“You’ve got a funny accent, you know that? Did your family come over from England?”

They had. On the
Mayflower
. “Yes. My grandmother has an English accent.” That was true. His maternal grandmother went back and forth across the pond every couple of years. He reached his hand out again but didn’t touch Luke. “At least while we’re stuck here through these storms, can we be together without worrying what anyone thinks? The whole town knows you took me in out of the storm. Lots of men bach it together. It’s no big deal.”

“Only while they’re looking for wives.” Luke took a long slurp of his coffee.

“That again? I am not looking for a wife, and neither are you.”

“You will eventually to make your life easier,” Luke said.

“Trust me, Luke. It would not be easier. I like ladies a lot, but I’ve never wanted to bed one. I never have and I never will. Can’t we just be easy with each other, please? It’s more than a coincidence that I knocked on your door in a storm. It was meant to be.”

Finally Luke smiled. “Now you’re talking nonsense, boy. What if I were a toothless old man with dirt under my fingernails? Would it still have been meant to be?”

“If you were a toothless old man, I’d have taken it as a sign to keep moving, storm or no storm.” They both laughed. Sam grabbed Luke’s hand, and this time he didn’t pull it away. “Do you like me even a little?”

Averting his gaze, Luke mumbled, “More than you realize.”

Happier than he’d felt in a long time at the declaration, Sam asked, “Can we be easy with each other? Can we enjoy the time together while we have it?”

Watching him carefully, Sam noted Luke’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and he shook his head a couple of times. For a moment he seemed to be in pain as a frown crossed his brow. Why was it so hard for him to accept affection and intimacy? Shrugging one shoulder, Luke finally said, “Sure, why not. But when spring comes, we have to get to work and stop any tomfoolery that’s been going on.”

Clapping his hands like a child, Sam leaped up and leaned across the table to kiss Luke on the cheek. “Yes, sir. No tomfoolery come spring.”

Luke pushed him away. He grabbed his mug and drained the coffee. “Do not kiss me. You got that? No kissing.”

“Got it,” Sam said, but he had no intention of abiding by it.

While the blizzard blew, isolating the little house as if they were entirely alone on the prairie, they finished their breakfast. When they were done, they went back to bed without either needing to speak. Sam lay on top of Luke, head to tail while they sucked each other’s cocks. Long after they had satisfied each other, they lay in the same position. Sam’s face nestled in Luke’s hairy groin, resting comfortably. The smell of Luke’s juices filled his nostrils, and the taste of his cock was still in Sam’s mouth. He sighed with happiness. Maybe life could be good in De Smet.

For three more glorious days the storm raged, beating its fury against the solid logs of the little house. There was no one in the world but them, two men, different from their neighbors, who had found each other by some miraculous chance. When they were not satisfying each other, they lay naked in each other’s arms, sometimes on the bed, sometimes on the floor after an especially ferocious tussle had landed them there.

With his head on Luke’s shoulder, the bare boards beneath his hip not bothering him in the slightest, Sam curled his slender body into Luke’s much more muscular one. With little nibbling kisses, Sam worked his way across Luke’s neck, grasping the man’s thick cock at the same time. He pumped it fast and furiously until Luke spent, gasping, his body tense and sweaty. “I love the smell of you and the taste of you,” Sam whispered against his ear.

After half a minute of silence, Luke spoke. “Why do you say dumb shit like that?”

“Because I’m young and not jaded, and I’m never going to end up that way.”

“You probably will,” Luke said.

“No, sir. When the black-eyed Susans and wild columbine start growing on the prairie, I’m going to pick bunches of them and bring them to you. I’m going to cook your meals every day, because I’m the better cook.” Sam smiled, noticing the beauty of Luke’s blue eyes. “If you cut yourself on a plowshare, I’ll bind your wound and kiss you better.”

His cheeks flushing at the words, Luke turned his face away. “You jabber too much. You daydream too much. You’re always sweeping the damn floor. Come spring you’ll be on your land, and I’ll be on mine. We’ll be too busy to see each other.”

Sam grabbed Luke’s face. “Look at me. I’ll never be too busy to see you. I’m going to make you my darling man. You’ll see.”

For a moment Luke remained stoic. Then he smiled despite himself.

* * * *

The storm had to end, and for the first time since September, Luke didn’t want it to. The house was warm, they had food, and he had the sweetest young man he’d ever met in his life to keep him company. Would they be able to go over to Fuller’s without giving themselves away? His heart thudded with fear. Sam didn’t seem able to behave himself when they were alone, always touching him and holding his hand. Always pecking him on the cheeks and biting his ear, though Luke still refused to kiss him on the mouth.

“You stay here. I’ll go over to Fuller’s for the news,” he ordered.

He didn’t expect Sam to stick up for himself and was surprised when the young man said, “Hell, no!” Sam pulled on his heavy coat and threw Luke’s at him.