by Tinnean
Sharps grinned and leaned against him. “The stage arrived earlier than expected—the driver wanted to beat the snowfall—”
“Seems like he didn’t.”
“No, and let me tell you, those passengers were relieved when he rolled into town. However, some of the passengers were bored.”
“Were they now?” Steve’s lips twitched slightly, indicating how amused he was by those simple words. “Well, there isn’t much to do in the middle of the week during the middle of winter.”
“No. For some reason they thought they could improve the odds of drawing to an inside straight.” He was pleased when his captain gave a snort of laughter. “You know what they say, Cap. There’s a fool born every minute.”
“I reckon there is,” Steve said as he let Sharps go and crossed to take the pot of coffee from the stove. He brought it to where Sharps had placed the cups. “You’re relaxed tonight.”
“What do you mean? I’m always relaxed.”
“No. Something was bothering you lately. Now it’s not.”
“What could be bothering me?”
“You won’t tell me?”
“There’s nothing to tell.” Sharps forced himself to smile and stay calm. The cap was probably just making idle conversation. It didn’t mean anything.
Steve sighed and glanced at the coins on the table. “What do you plan to do with all this wealth?”
“It’s going into the box.”
“I can see that. But since we no longer need the money to go east—”
“What—” Sharps felt his mouth go dry, and he didn’t even think to ask Steve what he meant. “What do you mean we?”
“We, as in you and me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He did, actually. He just didn’t know how Steve had come to figure it out.
“Sure you do, dear boy.” Steve gave him such a fond smile, Sharps thought his heart was going to lurch out of his chest. “You were going back east to deal with Lewis St. Claire, and if you were going, of course I was going with you.”
Sharps felt his jaw drop, and he just continued to stare at his captain.
“We won’t have to now, not with St. Claire dead.” Steve used his fingers to close Sharps’s mouth, then urged his mouth closer until finally he brought their lips together once again.
“How…How did you know?”
“You’re my boy, aren’t you? Of course I’d know.”
“And…and it doesn’t bother you that I was going to kill a man?”
“Sharps…”
Sharps held himself stiffly. He knew it. This was where Steve told him as miserable as the two men from Willow Crick had been, he couldn’t accept the acts Sharps had committed. Steve ran his palm over his cheek, and Sharps could hear the rasp of his beard.
“Let me put it to you this way.” Steve raised his hand, and this time he stroked his palm over Sharps’s hair. “It didn’t bother me when you killed McCloud and Weatherford. It would hardly bother me if you killed St. Claire.”
“It wouldn’t?” Sharps was cautiously optimistic, but he knew as well as anyone the shoe could drop at any time.
“No, it wouldn’t.” No shoes dropped. “So—are we all right?”
“I reckon we are.”
“Good. Now suppose you tell me what your plans are for this money?”
“I though, come spring when we head south with Bart and Mrs. Hall to bring back a herd of cattle, we might pick up a few mares as well.”
“That’s a good idea. Your stallion’s already got my mare in foal.”
“Yeah, I reckon he did. We’ll have a start to our herd.”
“We will.” Steve looked at the two cups still filled with coffee. “Do you still want this?”
“No.” Sharps took the cups and emptied them into the coffeepot. “We can heat it up again in the morning.”
“Good. Because I have to tell you, I’m ready for bed.”
“To sleep?” Sharps couldn’t help being disappointed, but if Steve needed to get some shuteye, Sharps wasn’t going to object to it.
“Now, I didn’t say that.” Steve pulled him into his arms and kissed him.
“Oh! In that case…” He doused the lights, caught his captain’s hand, and led the man who owned his heart up the stairs to their bedroom.
They were both home.
THE END
Author’s Note
Of the 356 men of the 14th who marched into battle at Gettysburg: 13 were killed, 105 were wounded, and 99 were missing. This was a loss of 68%, making it one of the highest losses in the battle.
The music mentioned in the story can be found on YouTube:
“The Water Is Wide”
“Green Grow the Lilacs”
“Tenting on the Old Camp Ground”
“When Johnny Comes Marching Home”
“Lorena”
“Aura Lee”
“Taps”
“Sweet Genevieve”
“The Man on the Flying Trapeze”
“Home, Sweet Home”
“Beautiful Dreamer”
ABOUT TINNEAN
Tinnean has been writing since the 3rd grade, where she was inspired to try her hand at epic poetry. Fortunately, that epic poem didn’t survive the passage of time; however, her love of writing not only survived but thrived, and in high school she became a member of the magazine staff, where she contributed a number of stories.
Starting a family resulted in the writing being set aside, although throughout those years Tinnean did continue to keep a journal. Once the kids were old enough to do their own thing, she was able to dabble in writing again. It was with the advent of the family’s second computer—the first intimidated everyone—that her writing took off, enhanced in part by fan fiction, but mostly by the wonder that is copy and paste.
While involved in fandom, she was nominated for both Rerun and Light My Fire Awards. Now she concentrates on her original characters and has been published by Nazca Plains, Dreamspinner, JMS Books, Wilde City Press, and Less Than Three Press. Recent novels have received honorable mention in the 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, and 2017 Rainbow Awards.
Tinnean is what you might call a hopeful romantic, and if you see her name on a story, it will have a happy ending.
Her signature line, a quote by Ernest Hemingway, says it all: “Once writing has become your major vice and greatest pleasure, only death can stop it.”
A New Yorker at heart, she resides in southwest Florida with her husband and two computers.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!