“No, Luke, no. I came to De Smet to make my own way. To see what I could do on my own without my family’s name and money.”
“Holland sent you here,” Luke said, even though he knew that wasn’t true; his anger was making him crazy. “He told you about me.”
“That’s just plain stupid!” Sam burst out. “I haven’t even spoken to Holland Endicott since before I went to Harvard and then only briefly. We go to a lot of the same social gatherings, and my family and his do business together. I’ve never been his friend.”
“You went to Harvard? Is that where you studied farming?” Luke asked scathingly.
“They don’t teach farming at Harvard. I studied law.”
“That’s where you learned to be a liar,” Luke said. “Lawyers are known for lying.”
“Luke, please.” Sam came around the table to him with his arms out. “I never meant to lie. I just wanted to be plain Sam Smith for a while. I didn’t know the man you’d been in love with was Holland. I didn’t know till the day we moved and I looked at the picture.”
“That was in May. It’s October, and you didn’t think you should tell me before now?” Luke pushed him away. “Don’t touch me.”
Sam lowered his arms. “I love you, Luke. I should have been honest with you, but misleading you doesn’t change my love.”
“Mislead? You lied. You outright lied.” All the things he had wanted to say this past week boiled over now that he had started. “I should kick your little rich-boy ass for you.”
“Do it if you want, but don’t stop loving me.”
“I should never have said I loved you,” Luke said at once. “It’s not true. I lied, just like you lied.”
The shock on Sam’s face nearly broke Luke’s heart, but anger swamped his pity. “What did your mother say in those letters you burned? Does she want you to come home?”
“Yes.”
“You’d better tell me the truth. All of it. Now.” With his arms crossed, Luke sat down at the table, and Sam sat opposite.
With his chin down, avoiding eye contact, Sam said, “My name is Samuel Porter-Smith the third. My family is rich, and I’m the only son. My sisters are older and both married. My parents found out when I was at Harvard that I liked men.”
“Look at me, boy,” Luke said in a tone that he knew Sam wouldn’t dare disobey. “How did they find out?”
Sam met his gaze squarely. “My parents know Charles Eliot, the university president. He wrote to them and told them about Courtland and other boys. I played around a lot.”
The worst thought that could possibly come into Luke’s mind did, and then tumbled from his lips. “Did you play around with Holland?”
“No! He’s way too old.” The look of horror on Sam’s face told Luke he was telling the truth. “Truth be told, I can’t imagine what you saw in him.”
“Me neither,” Luke said. “He did what you did, pretended to be an ordinary man. He lied and used me. He never had any intention of sticking around.”
“I’m sorry.” Sam leaned forward but made no attempt to touch him. “Luke, I love you.”
“Yeah, sure you do.” He wasn’t about to believe much of what Sam said at this point. “People who love you don’t lie to you. I’ve never lied to you.”
“When I got to De Smet, I never even thought about falling in love. I just wanted to get as far away as I could from my parents. All they did was nag and argue with me about not wanting to marry. I told them I couldn’t get married just to suit them, just to make the family happy. I told them I couldn’t do it and I wasn’t going to.”
Luke looked at the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. “I’ll take the wheat to town tomorrow. I’ll have to make a few trips with the wagon. I reckon you should get about a quarter of what I’ll get for it at the mill.”
“I don’t want any of the money from the wheat. You bought the seed, most of it anyway. You did the work. I don’t need money.”
“No, you’ll inherit a fortune one day from your father.” Luke could not even begin to guess how much the Porter-Smiths were worth, but he was sure it was more money than he could conceive. In the mines he had worked like a donkey for three years, and he’d saved eight hundred dollars. Compared to most men in De Smet, he was wealthy, but unlike Morley, he kept it to himself. He could easily afford to build a house next year and hire labor to help him.
“Yes, but I also inherited fifty thousand dollars from my grandfather’s estate on my eighteenth birthday. Since you want to know everything about me, there it is.”
As if someone had punched him in the jaw, Luke stared for a moment. Fifty thousand dollars. It was unimaginable. Sam could buy up the entire town if he wanted and have money left over. Shaking his head, Luke looked away. Sam really had played the poor boy, claiming to have worked in a hotel. It was all a joke to him.
“In the morning you can pack your stuff and leave.” Luke stood up. “I’m going to bed. I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
“I’m not leaving,” Sam said.
Luke stripped, throwing his trousers on the floor. “You’ll leave, or I’ll throw you out.” He got into bed and turned his back on Sam.
For a long time Luke lay unable to sleep. Sam put out the lamp, stripped, and got into bed. He snuggled up to Luke’s back and placed one arm over Luke’s side, reaching for his cock. Luke slapped his hand away. “Go to sleep, or you can go to the barn. We’re done. I’m not touching you again.”
Sam turned his back and moved as far from Luke as was possible for two men in a double bed.
Chapter Nineteen
The pleasure of the money Luke had made from his wheat crop was blunted by Sam’s deceit. All he wanted was to see the back of him. Yet the very thought of living without Sam’s devotion and sweetness, not to mention his physical presence, especially in bed at night, made him feel lonely even though the young man was still there three days after he’d told him to get out.
When breakfast was eaten, Luke said, “I’m going to look at the barn and the corral fence to see if I need to make any repairs. While I’m gone, you can pack your things.”
Carrying the dishes to the dry sink, Sam said, without looking at him, “I’m not going anywhere, and it’s time we used the porcelain dishes I brought with me. I’m sick of eating out of tin plates and mugs. Can you bring some with you from the barn when you’re done?”
Instantly inflamed that Sam was going against him, Luke replied, “I want you out of my goddamned house with your lies and your fancy ways.”
Dropping the dishes into the sink with a loud clatter, Sam said calmly, “I wish you wouldn’t take the Lord’s name in vain.”
“To hell with you and your stupid religion,” Luke bellowed. “Isn’t there something in the Bible about lying?” So enraged he feared he might hit Sam, he walked out of the house into the bright, breezy morning.
The barn, being nearly new, was in perfect condition, just like the corral fence. So, needing something physical to do, Luke took the yard broom and swept the hard-packed dirt floor of the barn until not a straw was out of place. Every now and then he’d look out toward the shanty to see if Sam was putting his things outside to load into his wagon. There was absolutely no sign of activity, and he didn’t know whether to feel relieved or angry.
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 t
he 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 no
ose 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.”
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