by Jan Irving
“The hell I say,” Gabriel repeated.
Creased lines around the brown eyes. Worried. Sweat on the upper lip.
The other man, younger, just went along. Gabriel knew his type. He had his hands up already, eyeing the door of the saloon as if he wished he could dive through it.
Gabriel gave him a friendly nod. “Youll be happy to know I have found jobs for both of you to disprove this rumor.”
“J-jobs?” Gray Hairs fingers flexed above his gun.
Gabriel hit him. He fell into the street, shaking his head, groggy. Gabriel swung around and grabbed the mans partner by his dusty lapels, smashing him against the saloon wall. He put an elbow against his windpipe.
He caught a glimpse of Joannas huge eyes. She was holding a rifle in steady hands, watching the street. Watching his back.
He smacked the youngster so that he crumpled to the plank porch, and then Gabriel touched the brim of his hat in her direction. “Maam,” he said before returning his attention to the two men. “Leave the gun belts here. You wont need them.”
Gray Hair offered his with a shaking hand from where he sat bleeding in the dirt, but Gabriel shook his head. “In the water trough, if you please.”
“Damn you.” But he climbed to his feet and, with his young partner, dropped their guns obediently.
“Too late for that, Im afraid,” Gabriel quipped. “Now, about that job I have for you? Have you ever searched for bones in the rocks? No?” He nodded toward the pile of charred debris two storefronts down. “I worked for a man from a museum once who excavated fantastical creatures out of the dirt. This will not be unlike that experience, except we are going to resurrect something for the living.”
Joanna took his arm, whispering, “I hope you know what youre doing. This will stir up more trouble.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“Oh, my God! Mouse?”
“They shot him,” Gabriel said. “But hes recovering. Doc Jude—”
Tears stood in Joannas eyes before she turned her gaze on the two gunmen Gabriel had disarmed. “If I see you in this saloon again, Ill kill you,” she said. “Gabriel, theyll be bringing Mouse back here?”
“Yes, maam. Jude has a clinic here in town.”
“Yes, he does,” Joanna agreed.
Chapter Sixteen
Jude stared at what had been an empty storefront in Sylvan. He got out of Mings cart slowly, dazed, giving Joanna a look as she finished sweeping one corner of the boardwalk. Beside her, kneeling under a brand new window with a fancy stained-glass pattern hed obviously just fitted, was Ralph Bellows. When Judes clinic had burned, there had been no sign of his old friend, but fortunately he had not been with the men who had thrown the torches.
Ralph cleared his throat. “Had this window in stock for a dogs age, but no one ever bought it. Figured it would do to replace the broken one here.”
An apology. Jude shook his head, unable to take it in.
Next to Ralph, Mrs. Stevenson was also on her hands and knees, leftover soil mounded in a circle around the second of two Grecian urns he remembered having in storage. Shed planted purple asters in both pots. She wiped her hands on her apron and shaded her eyes when she saw him. “Doc Jude.” She nodded. “About time you got back here.”
Judes wondering gaze moved to faded bunting from the last town celebration that had been adapted to read NEW CLINIC as it hung in an arc above an inverted lucky horseshoe, and there was Judes old rug with faded cabbage roses, somehow also salvaged, the burned ends cut off and rebound at an angle for his patients to wipe their feet.
The diamond-paned windows sparkled from a fresh application of vinegar and water that stung Judes nose. Through them he could make out the front room, lined with shelves and the supplies that must have come in on the last stage. He recognized a secretaire from the general store, there to serve as a medicine cabinet, with a lock and key.
“Oh…” He felt tears sting his eyes. His home.
“Welcome back to town, Doc.” Gabriel leaned against the freshly whitewashed front door, hat low over his eyes, his duster blowing in the wind, his guns prominent. Jude couldnt hold his look, so he turned his attention to his newly rehung shingle.
“Slightly burned but still serviceable,” Gabriel said in his ear, having moved close while Jude was distracted. His voice was amused, as if he attributed— correctly—such thinking to Jude.
Jude took an instinctive step back, flushing, and Gabriel stilled; he studied Judes face for a lightning moment and then turned his back, spurs ringing as he strode in the direction of the saloon.
Jude stood frozen outside his new clinic, with the smell of fresh paint evaporating in the warm air, and watched him.
Leaning on her broom, Joanna shook her head. “Hes been working on this place night and day for you, Doc. He even did the painting himself.” She put the broom aside and, after a glance at Judes housekeeper and the store owner, continued in an undertone, “You got close to him, didnt you? But now youre back in town…”
Jude swallowed. “I have to be circumspect, Joanna, or people wont come to me for treatment.” But he couldnt help gazing toward the swinging door of the saloon.
Gabriel. His man.
She sighed and looked toward the cart. “How is my son?”
Grateful for the change in topic, Jude gestured toward where Shen Lei was helping Mouse carefully climb onto the boardwalk. “The swelling has gone down, but Ive asked him not to try talking.”
“Well, Shen Lei barely says anything himself,” Joanna noted dryly. “So he is an ideal companion.”
Mouse stumbled, and before he could take another step, Shen Lei swept him into his arms, dark braid swinging an arc over his high damask collar. Jude reached for the door. “Through here,” he said, dazed.
After hed settled Mouse in a small bedroom with the silent and watchful Shen Lei, Jude found a solitary meal waiting of Mrs. Stevensons stew. The kitchen was strangely like the old one, even the same woodstove and a homespun table made by Charlie Morgan, the town carpenter.
There was no sound in his new clinic but the scrape of his fork on his plate.
* * *
Early that evening, Jude stood outside, looking up at the stars. It was quiet except for distant piano music coming from the saloon. He pushed down his sleeves, having taken care of a boil for Martin Webster, his first patient since hed returned to town.
Beyond the edge of the boardwalk, there was dust and waving grass and the foothills where Seamus had ridden back to care for the bear until she was ready to be taken up into the mountains.
Jude looked over at the Lucky Dollar. He hardly ever went to the saloon, preferring to read or write in what free time he had. Now…now he put his hands in his pockets and walked toward it.
* * *
“Much Ado About Nothing,” a familiar voice said. Jude stared at the tall figure in dusty black, his heart thudding as Gabriel lit a cheroot and held his gaze. He was reading a leaflet that had been posted outside the saloon. “Theyll be performing on the second floor of the Lucky Dollar tomorrow evening,” Gabriel continued. “Most cosmopolitan.”
Jude managed a nod. He wanted to go to Gabriel and bury his face against the taller mans neck, feel his arms crush him close, hear him say, “Boy, my boy…”
He cleared his throat. “We dont have an opera house, so the saloon does double duty on occasion.”
“And does the towns young doctor ever attend a performance?” Gabriel raised dark brows, considering Jude.
“Yes. Its not Boston or New Orleans, but it is”—Jude shrugged—“an opportunity to be transported somewhere else, away from dust and harsh winters and losing patients.”
Gabriel looked at his cheroot. “I sometimes took a companion when I attended a performance in NOrleans.”
Judes heart gave a solid bang against his throat. “You attended the opera with a…male companion?”
“Yes,” Gabriel said, taking a deep drag. He stared at Jude, and the moments beat like
the tick of Judes heavy gold pocket watch.
Judes gaze fell to Gabriels lips, and he imagined kissing them, could almost feel it. Something wild and angry flared inside him, like one of the tornadoes that could chew up trees for miles. He moved closer to Gabriel, so that they stood a foot apart. He could smell the other mans bay rum, could see himself reflected in dark eyes. “I would like to see it with you, Gabriel.”
Gabriel gave a nod and then turned away, walking down the street toward the livery, no doubt to check on his stallion and mule. Seeing that, Judes throat tightened. In the wintertime he would be here in town like always, ensconced in a clinic very like the old one. Perhaps he would coach the boys choir again for the reverend. The holidays would come, and there would be the tree lighting. Hed help some folks and lose others.
And Gabriel would be gone.
* * *
Jude lay awake in his bed, staring up at the gray shadows moving on the ceiling. Patterns of leaves and trees and endlessly moving grass.
He rubbed his chest, turned over, reached for his pocket watch.
Not even four in the morning. He sighed, closing his eyes. Mouse was resting comfortably, and Shen Lei had volunteered to watch over him, leaving Jude with little to do. It was also a remarkably light time for medical cases, although possibly some of his patients were leery of seeing him and displeasing Smith.
Finally Jude got up, his body aching so that he skimmed a hand over his sex, feeling it hard and pulsing. He was used to turning to Gabriel now, to feeling his lovers lips or hands on him when he was in need. If Gabriel were here, hed be moving between Judes spread legs.
Jude opened the window, letting in the endless prairie wind. It dried some of the perspiration on his skin, and he leaned out on his elbows, looking at the heavy, hanging moon.
On the corner of the boardwalk, he made out a dark silhouette. He didnt need the glow of a cheroot to recognize Gabriel sitting on the steps.
* * *
That afternoon, Ming dipped the razor in alcohol after wrapping Judes face in a hot towel. He closed his eyes, savoring the care and holding his anticipation to himself.
Tonight. Tonight hed see the play with Gabriel. Hed sit beside him. It wasnt wise. He didnt care. He couldnt seem to care.
Hed sit beside him and hed be able to look into his dark eyes and hed smell his bay rum.
Sighing, Jude watched as Shen Lei put hot irons on his best suit, straightening out the wrinkles. One sleeve looked a little charred from the fire, but it was the best he had for this evening.
Equally strange was looking across the big washtub and seeing Gabriel dabbing aside soapsuds from his clean-shaven jaw. His shirt had been brushed of dust and a hole in his duster repaired.
The big man said nothing, but his dimples flashed.
* * *
“What is this?” Freddie Right, one of David Smiths men, stepped onto the boardwalk outside the Lucky Dollar, staring at Jude…and Gabriel.
“Two men who are here for Shakespeare,” Gabriel said, holding Rights pale gaze. He pushed in front of Jude, and his hand tapped against one of his guns. “„He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man.”
Jude gripped Gabriels arm. “Dont,” he whispered.
“What the hell is that?” Right growled. “We dont want the Doc in Sylvan. He meddles too much, and folks like things the way they are.”
“That is not entirely true,” a soft voice interrupted. Joanna stepped from the saloon, wearing a dress the color of violets and thunderclouds. Jude politely touched the brim of the hat hed brought all the way from Boston as she continued, “Jude is wanted here. This town is growing, and we need a good doctor.”
“What Smith says goes.” Right turned his back, untying the reins of his horse. “Youll see.”
“Joanna.” Jude touched his friends arm, hoping to reach her as he had clearly not Gabriel. “You have to stay out of this.”
Joanna shook her head, her profile cold and fixed like a chilly goddess. “No, Doc, I wont.” She swallowed. “I wanted to help you the night they burned your clinic, but…I am in love with David Smith.” She held his gaze. “But they shot Mouse. They shot my son.”
Jude watched her return to the saloon. He jumped when a hand touched his shoulder.
“Gabriel.” He looked at his gunman. Gabriel had cut his hair. His face was smooth for the moment, though he was given to heavy beard growth. He was freshly bathed.
Gabriels gaze dropped, and color touched his bronzed cheekbones before he looked up again. “Jude, dont worry,” he said, his dark eyes like a touch on Judes face. “Come on; I reserved a table on the second floor.”
Jude said, “And I ordered champagne.”
Gabriels eyes widened. “Jude…”
“Do you…?” Jude swallowed. “That is, you look… You dressed very nicely this evening.”
Gabriel leaned close so his lips actually brushed Judes ear. “Dont lose that hat in the prairie wind, little one. Id have a hell of a time chasing it down the street.”
* * *
Top hat resting on their table, Jude leaned forward, lips parted, staring toward the opposite balcony where heavy scarlet velvet curtains outlined the makeshift stage. A dusty chandelier partially blocked his view of the players. The saloon was packed; men and even respectable women had come to see the players who had arrived two nights ago by stage.
The piano music tapered off, and the voices hushed when Leonato, Hero, and Beatrice stepped onto the stage, setting the scene in Messina.
The champagne had gone to Judes head, or maybe it was that sitting next to Gabriel had. He was conscious of the glances from the townspeople in his and Gabriels direction. He sat a good foot from the other man, his heart pounding. He wanted to reach out and touch the back of Gabriels hand.
* * *
“„And when I livd I was your other wife.” Jude repeated the words of the actress softly. Somehow he had moved closer to Gabriel, though they still werent touching, of course.
Gabriel splashed a little more champagne into Judes glass, his dark eyes on his face. “„And when you lovd, you were my other husband.” His voice was deep, the voice he used when he caressed Judes upper back above his midnight blue and black lace corset.
* * *
Gabriel walked him back to the clinic. It was late now and Jude was tired, but he had to fight off the urge to push himself into Gabriels arms. Why did it seem so natural?
“Good night, Jude,” Gabriel said, touching the brim of his hat. “Ill remember sharing tonights performance with you.”
Jude could picture it: Gabriel sitting at a campfire at the end of a long day of prospecting or herding cattle, whatever he had to do to make his way. And hed be thinking of this night the same as Jude, who would probably capture the memory with his pen. This night, like a rose pressed for remembrance between the pages of one of his poetry books.
His lips quirked since, as educated as Gabriel was, he was not poetry or roses when they touched. When they touched…
“Come inside,” Jude whispered, heart pounding.
Gabriel paused, studying Jude.
“I know you intend to stay out here all night, watching over the clinic.” Watching over him and Mouse. Jude cleared his throat. “Surely you would enjoy a more…comfortable location along with an amiable companion?”
“How amiable?” Gabriel challenged.
The same recklessness that had made him attend tonights performance with Gabriel rose in his blood. He shifted so he stood close to Gabriel, their clothing brushing, his slight body in Gabriels large shadow. “I will be at your service, sir,” Jude said.
“You are inviting me into your bed?” Gabriel pressed, and Jude swallowed thickly. Soon Gabriel would be gone and there would be no big man to crawl over him, to pound between his open legs.
“Yes, Gabriel,” Jude said. “My bed and my body.”
Chapter Seventeen
“I shouldnt let you do this,” Ga
briel fretted from where he was lying on Judes new bed.
Poking his head out from behind his dressing screen, Jude raised his brows.
“Your reputation, Jude. It has to be spotless.” Gabriels face was shadowed from the lamp, moody.
“And you dont like that because I choose to be with you, Im considered…soiled?” Jude folded his arms.
“I want to be the one to soil you,” Gabriel said.
Jude blushed. “Do you think were damned?”
Gabriel sat up abruptly.
Jude widened his eyes. “So Im not ruined because of what I let you do to me?”
“You want it.”
“Why, yes.” Jude nodded and went back to his preparations. He thought hed headed Gabriel off. When theyd first met, yes, hed thought it was wrong, but that was before hed experienced Gabriels thickness inside him. Sex wasnt easy or pretty, but he wanted it. The splash of Gabriels cum on his lips as he peeled back his lovers foreskin and milked his taste, listening to his breath stutter, feeling his hands in his hair, encouraging his little cocksucker, his boy who was so good to him.
“I dont know how Im going to live without him,” Jude whispered to himself. He took a deep breath, fighting off the leaden feeling that suddenly weighed on him.
“Jude?” Gabriel was right behind the screen. “What are you doing?”
Jude reached for his last accessory. “I want you to remember me.” He squeezed his eyes shut, part of him wanting to remain hidden.
“Jude, how could I—” Gabriel had walked around the screen, and he stilled, staring.
Jude ran a nervous hand over his lips, freshly rouged. The color had looked stark in the mirror, but then hed pictured how hed look sucking Gabriels cock.
“Damnation!”
Jude swallowed hard but forced himself to turn in a circle, knowing Gabriel liked to look at him.