Love Under Two Gunslingers

by Love Under Two Gunslingers (lit)

  She should have realized that beneath Joshua’s happy-go-lucky exterior lay a man more sensitive to his surroundings, and the moods of others, than most.

  How should she answer him? For he had been right when he’d announced he was about to be presumptuous. He’d asked an extremely intimate question, the sort of question one might expect only from one’s closest confidante.

  Oh, God.

  Tears threatened, and she blinked once, fiercely commanding them back. Reality rose up and slammed into her. She was miles from home, miles from all she had known and loved, thrust into a situation she never could have imagined just one month ago. Her future loomed, completely uncertain, and she felt more than alone. She felt bereft.

  These men, at this point in time, were her only friends in the world. Her conscience began to protest, albeit faintly. She silenced it with brutal force.

  If Mr. Maddox didn’t want me to trust these two, he should not have sent them to fetch me like some…some left behind package in the first place.

  “Connubial bliss? Oh, no, Joshua. I doubt very much there will be any of that in my future. I’m married to Mr. Maddox, quite simply, because my father sold me to him.”

  * * * *

  “Aw, come on, Adam, I didn’t mean nothing by it. Me and Spence just had us a bit of a disagreement, is all. You don’t have to go arresting me.”

  Adam shook his head as he led a handcuffed Walter Pritchard to one of the cells in the back of the Rangers’ office.

  “Now, Walter, we’ve been through this before. The townsfolk don’t take too kindly to having a man, drunk and disorderly, swinging at another man and calling him a son of a whore, a godforsaken heathen, or a donkey fucker. I know it sounds all prissy and such, but it seems mothers especially object to their children hearing these new words because children will, of course, repeat them.”

  “Aw, damn, Captain.”

  “So you have yourself a little sleep here as our special guest. I’ll have Virgil ride out and tell your missus you won’t be home until dinner time.”

  “No, Captain, no, please, don’t let Verna know! That woman has a tongue sharper than a whip. She’ll flay the skin right off my ass.”

  Adam nearly laughed at the irony. A fist fight didn’t do much to sober up old Walter, and neither did being handcuffed and dragged off to jail. Mention the man’s wife of some twenty years, and he sprang from falling-down drunk to sober as a judge in the blink of an eye.

  “Should have thought of that when you decided to stop off at the saloon.” Adam opened the cell, then un-cuffed Walter. The man stumbled, fell on the cot, and mumbled indistinct sounds as the volume of alcohol in his body took over and dragged him back to total inebriation and then blessed sleep.

  Or not so blessed as Walter tended to snore louder than a frightened cow’s lowing.

  Adam went back to his desk, trying to work the kinks out of his back, his mind wandering even as his gaze tracked to the front window.

  Warren Jessop, attorney at law, exited the court house and paused on the sidewalk as he scanned his surroundings as if looking for something, or someone.

  “Damn town is getting lousy with lawyers,” Adam said aloud. Then he grinned. He’d said that very thing to Warren on the day they’d met, nearly two years before.

  His sore back and Walter forgotten, Adam grabbed his hat, then headed out into the hot Texas sun. He did his best to keep the smile off his face and the eagerness out of his stride. He’d long ago become accustomed to hiding his emotions.

  “Lawyer Jessop,” Adam greeted when he approached Warren.

  “Captain Kendall,” Warren acknowledged with a nod. He stuck his hand out, and Adam grasped it. The tiny voice of disquiet that had rumbled within him these last many days stilled with the strong, familiar touch.

  “I see you made it back from Kansas City without your scalp becoming forfeit.”

  “I did, late last night. I was fortunate in being able to travel with a cavalry regiment the last part of the way. They escorted me right to my door.”

  “Good. I was just heading over to Mary’s for a cup of coffee. Care to join me?”

  “Coffee sounds good, thanks.”

  They’d kept their voices cordial, friendly but not too much so. Anyone watching them, Adam thought, would hardly take notice. Adam had a reputation for being amiable to most everyone, making friends easily and often. He was, he knew, the sort of man that women—God bless their fragrant, curvy bodies—always flirted with and men wanted to call friend.

  He’d more than flirted with beautiful women in the past, and knew he would again. He liked women. He liked the smell of them, the touch of them, the way their soft voices and sometimes softer hearts could stir a man to varying degrees of chivalry or lust. He really liked fucking them.

  He liked men just as much and for many of the same reasons. He liked Warren Jessop, in particular.

  Well that’s only a half truth. I’m in love with the man.

  It had taken nearly dying during the war for Adam to come to terms with the duality of his nature. Since then, he’d felt more at home in his own body and more attuned to those around him. He regretted the necessity for subterfuge, for this game he and Warren had to play in front of the world.

  Their activities together could get them the death sentence in some places.

  Thank God, Warren had purchased a parcel of land outside town. His small spread lay right next door to the one Adam had acquired and worked during that three-year forced retirement he had to take when the Rangers had been temporarily disbanded not long after the end of the War.

  Mary’s Place was one of three restaurants to spring up on The Square in Waco in the last few years. Mary’s specialized in breakfast and lunch, and, as Mary had a fine hand with baking, the place often featured fresh pies and cakes. She did a good business mid morning as some folks—and Adam knew he could be counted guiltier than most—liked to treat themselves to coffee and sweets before lunch.

  Today the eatery didn’t appear to be crowded. Warren led the way to a corner table, the one furthest from other patrons. Adam knew that if anyone gave the matter any thought, they’d just figure the two men, a lawyer and a lawman, needed to discuss confidential, legal matters.

  “I missed you,” Adam said once Mary had delivered their coffee and pie.

  “I missed you, too. It was a very long month.”

  “I wish you’d come and woke me up when you got home,” Adam said quietly.

  “If I hadn’t been so tired and had been thinking clearly, I would have. But that army Major insisted on seeing me safe to my door and I had become a little concerned. I wanted to get behind that locked door as soon as I could.”

  “He didn’t try anything, did he?” Adam’s heart tripped in alarm. Sometimes men like him and Warren were targeted by other stronger, meaner men. Times when they stood at real risk of being beaten or raped—sometimes, both.

  He knew Warren had endured some hellish experiences back east before he’d come to Texas, and had suffered one near miss here as well. Adam felt his ire building. Warren diffused it quickly.

  “No!” Warren leaned forward, lowered his voice. “No. I just had the feeling…you know how it is sometimes. And then when they rode off, I was so exhausted I just fell into bed.”

  Adam did know how it could be sometimes. Men like him and Warren seemed able to recognize others of their kind, often on first sight. Like often recognized like.

  “I’m glad you’re home. Perhaps we could have dinner tonight?” Adam asked.

  “I’d like that. I can tell you about the lady I met while staying with Gwen and Carl.”

  Adam smiled. “Yeah? You have any luck there, Lawyer Jessop?” Adam loved teasing Warren, loved the way he would squirm sometimes. Of course, the other man often teased him right back.

  They each, from time to time, spent the evening with a woman, if she was willing to indulge in a little fun of the naked variety. The occasional tryst with a female didn’t chan
ge what they were to each other, or how they felt about one another.

  It might even come to the point, some day in the future, that one or both of them would have to marry. Marriage would not only bestow an air of respectability on them, it would diffuse and divert the attention of any who sought to have them charged with sodomy.

  The irony of the situation didn’t escape Adam. An officer of the law, sworn to uphold the statutes of the great State of Texas, under cover of darkness and behind closed doors he became an unrepentant lawbreaker.

  Adam brought his attention back to his companion. Warren’s eyes fairly danced with laughter.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. Gwen’s good friend, Daphne, kept playing the coquette. She was quite persistent and quite…buxom. I confess, I gave in to temptation.”

  Adam laughed. “Good for you. Perhaps you’ll be kind enough to share details with me later tonight?”

  “I’d be happy to. I meant to ask you, did your friends ever come to visit? The ones you told me about from your soldiering days?”

  Thoughts of the Benedict brothers and their current occupation brought back images of the poker game the night before. He was still trying to process the nuances of all that had occurred during the early part of the game when Maddox and Peterson had gotten into that pissing contest.

  “Yes, they did. But then an opportunity arose. They’ll be back, likely in a week or so. You can meet them then.”

  “What opportunity?”

  “Tyrone Maddox found himself in need of a couple of good men to travel to Chicago and safely conduct his bride back here.”

  “Bride? Tyrone Maddox? Isn’t that rather…sudden?”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Warren sat forward, his coffee now forgotten. “I wonder what he’s up to?” he asked, almost to himself.

  “Time will likely tell,” Adam said.

  Out on the street the good people of Waco went about their daily business. Mixed in were drovers and other itinerants who, thanks to the town’s proximity to the Chisholm Trail, maintained a constant presence, and near-constant source of work for a lawman.

  Made it hard sometimes, Adam thought, to keep tabs on some of his own.

  Chapter 5

  Caleb had to give Sarah credit. He knew she was exhausted, and if the way she moved as she got off the streetcar was any indication, sore as hell. But she’d yet to utter even one word of complaint.

  I’m married to Mr. Maddox, quite simply, because my father sold me to him.

  It had taken every ounce of will power he possessed to remain unmoving, to allow the pretense of his being asleep to continue after he’d heard those words.

  Caleb hadn’t set out to eavesdrop. He’d desperately wanted to sleep. Not only had he been tired, he’d figured sleep would be the only way he could escape the hunger that had been gnawing at him.

  Hunger for Sarah.

  They got off the horse-drawn street car that ran down Olive Street

  between the rail station and the Regency Hotel. One look at Sarah’s face and all Caleb wanted to do was pull her into his arms.

  He couldn’t, of course. But it was getting harder and harder to remember why. He flicked a glance at his brother. Joshua, he could see, fared no better in that regard.

  Sarah was a married woman, and they’d respect that. But knowing she didn’t love her husband served to shade the line between black and white, between honor and desire.

  After making that emotional confession this morning, Sarah had seemed embarrassed—as if having given in to her emotions somehow made her weak.

  “But then, women often have little say in the course their lives are to take,” she’d said to Joshua after a long pause. And then she’d changed the subject.

  His brother had let her off the hook, because it simply wasn’t in his nature to make any one uncomfortable.

  “It’s just shy of four. Why don’t we get you settled into your room so you can rest before dinner?” Caleb said. He looked over at Joshua. “I’ll head over to the Wells Fargo office and verify our travel arrangements for tomorrow.”

  “Good. I was going to suggest that myself.” Joshua said.

  His brother’s words told Caleb that he understood him completely. They were supposed to book themselves on the coach leaving the next day. For seasoned travelers like them, that would have been no problem. For Sarah, making her first journey of consequence, the pace so far had to seem brutal.

  Caleb could see no reason not to delay the next part of their trip for a day.

  “Dinner,” Sarah sighed. “I don’t know if I have the energy to eat. I wish—no, never mind. Perhaps a bit of a nap is the very thing that will restore my energy.”

  “What do you wish?” Caleb heard the edge in his voice. He couldn’t help it. Sarah had no way of knowing that he’d overheard her that morning, or that he felt frustrated as hell there was nothing he could do to make her situation any better. If there was something he could do to make her feel better now, he’d do it.

  “Oh, just me being fanciful. A nice hot bath would be wonderful.” Sarah’s tone held such wistfulness.

  “I don’t think wanting a bath is fanciful at all, especially after two long days of travel.” He led the way into the hotel. Joshua touched his arm as he moved ahead to the front desk and Caleb knew his brother would take care of it.

  They had comfortable chairs scattered about the lobby, and Caleb saw Sarah seated in one. Her sigh when her bottom hit the cushioned seat made him smile.

  “If I had known how hard the train seats would be, I’d have brought a cushion,” she said. She looked up at him, a slightly crooked smile on her lips, as if she thought she should have somehow known better.

  That smile did something to Caleb. Very similar to the way he felt sometimes when it was just him and Joshua together. He always had figured that sense came from having shared their mother’s womb, a sense of having been meant to be together.

  Damn, I’m in deep trouble.

  He would have to take extra care to hold on to his good intentions. A part of him could over look Sarah’s wedded state because of the circumstances of her marriage, but he’d be putting her in danger by doing so.

  She could end up in jail—or worse. Divorce wasn’t an option in most cases, and desertion of a husband by a wife was against the law nearly everywhere.

  Joshua returned to them.

  “We’re across the hall from you again, and your bath will be arriving in a half hour.” He said.

  Her look of gratitude had the same effect on his brother, Caleb saw, as it did on himself.

  He needed to get her settled in that room with a locked door between them, fast.

  * * * *

  Sarah sighed, every muscle in her body groaning in delight from the heat of the water. She’d been in her room—a much larger and more richly appointed one than the night before—barely that half hour when there’d come a knock on her door.

  Joshua stood guard as two burly men brought the tub in and set it down. Then came a parade of people, carting heavy buckets of steaming water which they’d poured into the tub. The last two buckets they’d set beside it, with a ladle.

  “If you need anything, I’ll be across the hall with the door open,” Joshua had said just before leaving her to her bath.

  If I need anything? Oh, she needed something, though she wasn’t sure just what. She needed a cure for the emotions swirling through her. She needed a release for the tension in her body simply being near Caleb and Joshua caused.

  Simply thinking about them made her innards quiver and her feminine flesh ache. She never would have guessed she could ache. Colleen had mentioned body parts, and where they went, and the fact that babies came of what she called the ‘marriage act’. She hadn’t said one word about aching, about a belly that could tremble and breasts that could yearn.

  Daring, shocked by her own boldness, Sarah reached down, stroked herself, let her fingers trace back and forth over the over hot, swollen f
lesh between her legs.

  Oh! A delicious shiver pebbled her skin. Her hips tilted up, seeking more. She repeated the back and forth motions, her pleasure increasing when a tiny nubbin seemed to reach up from inside a hidden fold to touch her fingers.

  Sarah shivered, feeling a deep tingling in her belly and a tiny gush of moisture from within.

  Somehow, she knew there had to be more—more pleasure, more sensations. Shame forgotten, she moved her hand some more, catching that small, hungry bud of flesh, rubbing it lightly. When her hips surged again, she obeyed an unfamiliar urge and pressed a finger against the opening just below that piece of flesh until her finger sank inside her canal.

  This must be what it will be like. Rubbing, delving, Sarah closed her eyes, tried to imagine what should have happened on her wedding night. But it wasn’t the face of Tyrone Maddox her imagination conjured. As urgency filled her, as excitement clutched her belly and deeper inside in what she instinctively recognized as her womb, it wasn’t her husband she imagined touching her, pleasuring her.

  No, images burst like fireworks behind her eyes, images of a starry night, the scent of a fire, and a hard male body on either side of her, of two men kissing her, touching her, making her shiver. Making her burn.

  Sarah took control of the image, made it her own, made it whole as she allowed herself to pretend Caleb and Joshua Benedict touched her, excited her, loved her.

  “Oh, God!” Something burst inside her, something hot and rapturous beyond her control. The amazing sensations flooded her, and she gave it mastery over body, letting it consume her completely.

  As the shivers ebbed, as the excitement palled, a great desolate emptiness yawned open inside her. Her course was set, her future determined. Society dictated what actions she must take, and it didn’t care one whit if those actions suited her or not.

  Lying back in the tub, Sarah let her tears fall as she acknowledged the sad truth. Heartache and loneliness littered the road ahead, and there was nothing at all she could do to avoid them.