Love Under Two Gunslingers

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Love Under Two Gunslingers Page 11

by Love Under Two Gunslingers (lit)


  A soft glow of light shining through the window confirmed he wouldn’t be alone tonight. The sense of relief and pleasure felt like a second wind. Opening the door to his barn, he heard a soft huff of air. Warren’s horse, Jasper, greeted him as he unsaddled Houston. He gave both animals some feed, water, and affectionate pats before heading to the house.

  Warren sat at the kitchen table, reading over some notes while something that smelled wonderful simmered on the stove.

  He looked up when Adam came in.

  “There you are. I was beginning to wonder if you’d been held up at the office. I heard Beamer’s crew has arrived again.”

  “Fool holds up a Texas Ranger, he deserves to be shot.”

  “Now that’s funny,” Warren said, deadpan.

  Having Warren in his home waiting for him at the end of the day defined pure joy for Adam. They tended to keep their expressions of affection for those times when they were behind closed and locked doors, with the lamps extinguished.

  Not this time. Moved by emotion, Adam walked over to the table, bent down, and took Warren’s lips with his.

  He loved the taste of his lover and took the kiss deep. His right hand fisted in Warren’s hair, as if he needed to keep the other man from escaping. Of course, escape wasn’t on Warren’s agenda. Warren did his own grabbing of Adam’s shirt while his tongue slid and stroked and teased and tasted. Adam felt his cock harden and knew if he didn’t ease back, he’d have Lawyer Jessop stripped and bent over the table in minutes. Fucking him would have to wait until those closed doors and extinguished lamps had come to pass. He would never risk Warren to the legal consequences of their passion. A kiss was as risky as he was willing to get.

  Adam drew back slowly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me, too. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll dish us up some stew.”

  Adam caressed his hand over Warren’s hair, then took a seat at the table. “You know, you could sell your place and move in here. Everybody knows you’re no rancher or farmer, that the land you’re sitting on is just going to waste. They know we’re friends. They’ve also seen us both with women. There are no whispers in that way about either of us. It could work.”

  “You want me to move in with you because it could work?”

  Adam recognized the tone. In the two years he and Warren had been lovers, Warren had been the one most intent on talking about their feelings. What they had together was more than just the pleasure they took from each other’s bodies.

  Adam had never been one to talk about such things before Warren. He’d always just done what he needed to do in secret, usually in the larger cities he sometimes visited, and usually just one-time encounters with other men he’d never see again.

  This thing with Warren was different and made him feel and want different things. He looked the other man in the eye. “No. I want you to move in here because I liked the way it felt coming home tonight, knowing you would be here. I want you to move in here because I love you, and I want us to be together every night, not just once in a while.”

  “It still has to be in the dark behind locked doors, Adam. And one or both of us will still likely end up getting married some day. Just to keep appearances up.”

  “I know. But in the meantime, maybe you could think about it?”

  “All right, I will. Now let’s have dinner. After you told me about that telegram you received from Springfield, I did a little digging of my own. While we eat, I’ll fill you in on what I found out.”

  * * * *

  Sarah shook with fear.

  Caleb had pushed her behind him. He’d cautioned her to be quiet. He needn’t have worried. Right then, she didn’t believe herself capable of making a sound. Her hands clamped on his waist, and she knew he had to feel her trembling. Carefully, she moved her head so that she could peek around his shoulder and get a look at the threat that faced them.

  The warriors appeared fiercer than the bold depictions she’d seen on the covers of her father’s dime novels. They sat on the backs of the prettiest horses she’d ever seen. A mix of white and brown, the horses stood as proud and arrogant as the warriors astride them. No saddles encumbered the beasts, and Sarah wondered at the warriors’ skill, that they could ride and control the animals without the heavy saddle and stirrups most white folk used.

  One of the warriors addressed Caleb. “You are trespassing on the land of the Ani-Yun' wiya. Our Chief demands to know the reason why.”

  Oh God, please help. Sarah closed her eyes as she scrunched herself even closer to Caleb’s back, and her mind took up a prayerful litany to the Almighty. If they were going to die, she prayed that it would be quick and painless. But mostly, she prayed for deliverance from this dangerous situation.

  Caleb exhaled heavily and seemed to deflate. The warriors laughed loud and long.

  “Damn it, Peter. You scared the hell out of us.”

  Sarah blinked, unsure she’d heard Caleb correctly. Joshua had also relaxed, shaking his head, a low rumble of curses on his lips.

  The man who had spoken, as well as the one Caleb had said was the chief, got off their horses and approached.

  Caleb turned and put his arm around her. “Sorry, sweetheart. It’s all right. They’re friends.”

  “Friends who would like some of your Arbuckle’s,” the warrior named Peter said as he drew near. He held out both arms to Caleb.

  Sarah wondered if they would hug, a sight she thought just might cause her to have a case of the vapors after the fear she’d just experienced. Instead, they grasped each other’s wrists by way of greeting.

  “I’ll make some more coffee,” Joshua said. “The fire is good, so it won’t take long.” He laid a hand on Sarah’s shoulder as he walked past her.

  “Sarah, this is Peter Smith,” Caleb said. He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, comforting her. She moved closer, nodded her greeting. Caleb had told her not to speak, and she was sticking to that for the time being.

  Caleb turned his attention to the older man who approached. “Perhaps the chief of the Ani-Yun' wiya would tell us what this is all about?”

  Sarah saw the older man nod at Caleb, then lead the way back to the fire Joshua had made. Sarah had thought Caleb would ask her to go wait by the horses. Back in Chicago when men got together to talk, they seldom wanted female company. She had no reason to assume things would be any different here in Indian Territory. But then Caleb took hold of her hand so she had no choice but to follow.

  * * * *

  “It is because the Keetoowah supported the blue coats that we have had the assistance of Major Mackenzie,” Peter Smith said. “And yet, the settlers still come and try to steal our land.”

  Sarah listened quietly as the men spoke. She understood the gist of what they discussed. She found it curious that the Chief himself would remain silent. In her experience, the more important the man, the higher the rank, the more he wanted to speak. Leaders tended to dominate the conversation so that all eyes would be on them, thereby enhancing their importance.

  “I do know that Major Mackenzie has been ordered to apprehend these settlers and that they will be charged. They will go to jail. My understanding is that President Hayes is a man of integrity, and that he has urged the army to honor the boundaries of Indian Territory. What does Major Mackenzie think of your war party?”

  “Not a war party. The elders of the Ani-Yun' wiya are teaching their sons and grandsons the way of their people.”

  “It sure as hell looked like a war party to us, until you stepped forward.”

  Sarah tried not to laugh when the Chief grunted and gave one firm nod of his head.

  “You should leave enforcement of the law to the army,” Joshua said. “Easier to avoid a misunderstanding that way.”

  He sat on her left, as close as Caleb did on her right. The sensation of being surrounded gave her comfort. Her fear, nearly at the shattering point when these Cherokee warriors had dismounted, had calmed considerably.

  Never
in her life had she imagined she would be sitting around a camp fire drinking coffee with two lovers and two bare-chested Indians.

  “We should teach our young our ways,” the Chief said, breaking his silence.

  He looked directly at Caleb and continued in halting English. “We will lose ourselves in the White Man’s ways, so that nothing of the Ani-Yun' wiya will be left. No treaty lasts. No peace endures. We walked long miles, the Trail of Tears a line of defeat from our ancestral homes with nothing but our clothes, our horses, and our memories. We were brought to this, our new land. But soon, our new land will also be taken from us. All we will have then is the memory of our ways. This we must preserve at all costs. You are young, Benedict. You have faith. I am old. I have no more faith.”

  Sarah had heard of The Trail of Tears and had thought nothing much about it. But now, sitting here and listening to the conversation, an image formed in her mind. Perhaps because she had left her own home—if not against her will, at least against her heart—she felt empathy for these people.

  She had at least known that at the end of her journey she would find a home of sorts and the means readily available to forge a new life.

  It didn’t take much insight for her to see that these people would have arrived in this strange new land to be met by nothing save the rivers, the trees, and the earth.

  Everything that had been, gone. Anything that might be, not yet imagined. They would have, Sarah thought, sat around a fire, perhaps drinking hot coffee, with no more roof over their heads than she had now and no more idea of what came next than she had at this moment.

  The Trail of Tears. She thought that most definitely an appropriate name.

  The men got to their feet, and Sarah realized with some embarrassment that she’d missed the last part of their conversation.

  “If you ride as far as the two-river fork tomorrow, I will see that you are met with fresh horses and some meat for your dinner.”

  “It would be welcome.”

  Caleb and Peter parted with the same small ritual they’d observed when they’d greeted each other. Despite his advanced age, the Chief vaulted onto his horse with ease. While they talked for nearly an hour, the rest of the warriors had remained still and silent on their mounts. Now, at a hand signal from Peter, the massive force turned as one. The line of warriors parted, making room for the leaders to join them once more. Then they headed off in the direction from which they’d come.

  Sarah hadn’t realized how taxing the encounter had been until she watched the Indians ride off. She exhaled heavily, her head feeling for the moment that it was simply too heavy to hold up.

  “You’re a hell of a woman, Sarah,” Caleb said. He eased her into his arms and held her tight. Grateful for the gesture, Sarah clung right back.

  “You are indeed,” Joshua seconded. “Not many women would have held silent after a scare like that. So if you feel like tearing a strip off either one of us, you go right on ahead. Get some of the fright and the mad out of you. Figure you’re owed that much.”

  Sarah laughed. As soon as Caleb eased his hold of her, Joshua pulled her close and gave her a good squeeze. When he set her back, she said, “No, but thank you so much for offering. How far is it to two-river fork?”

  “If we leave before dawn, we should make it by nightfall,” Caleb said. “We’ll have to push the horses, but Peter promised us fresh ones. Indian ponies make very good mounts.”

  “And he said there would be meat.”

  “He did indeed.” Caleb confirmed.

  Sarah sighed. “I’m looking forward to the fish you’re going to catch, but I’m hungry for meat. What do you think it will be? Rabbit? Venison?” Then a small detail she’d read in one of her father’s books several years before came back to her, and she shuddered. The writer had claimed that the wild Indians of the plains loved to hunt and eat snake.

  Her men must have understood the look on her face.

  “Relax, sweetheart,” Caleb said as Joshua laughed. “They’re ranchers and farmers, for the most part. It will likely be beef.”

  Sarah sighed in relief. “Well then, that’s good.”

  As soon as she relaxed, Joshua hugged her again. “Pity we’ll be eating beef tomorrow night. I had my heart set on roasted rattlesnake.”

  Sarah squinted, piercing him with a stare, as she barely controlled her shudder. “You’ll pay for that one,” she promised.

  She couldn’t help but smile as Joshua, laughing, headed toward the river to catch dinner.

  Chapter 13

  In the glow of the lamp, his naked flesh looked impossibly bronze, impossibly perfect.

  Adam had secured the doors to his house and locked them against the possibility of intrusion. For tonight, he wanted to create a sanctuary of safety. Warren obviously wanted the same, for he’d secured a curtain over the bedroom window, the heavy wool blanket fastened at the top and the bottom, ensuring no prying eyes could spy into the room.

  Adam leaned against the doorframe, his eyes drinking in every delicious line, every glorious, naked inch of Warren Jessop.

  Sometimes he wondered if the inherent danger in coming together as lovers formed part of the allure for him. He knew himself well enough to understand that danger was part of the reason he’d become a Texas Ranger. And then he would look into Warren’s deep brown eyes and know even if that did form part of the attraction, not just any man would do. It was Warren he craved.

  Adam stepped into the bedroom, then closed and locked the door behind him.

  “I laid alone here each night while you were gone, imagining that you were here with me instead. When I closed my eyes, I could sense you. I could smell you, almost taste you. You have a flavor like no other. Have I ever told you that? I imagined what I would do to and with you if I had you here with me.”

  Warren’s expression softened, and he looked at Adam in a way that made his heart catch. He came toward him, his gaze fastened on Adam’s cock. “I love the sight of you, hard for me.”

  “I’ll always be hard for you.”

  Warren took one more step, licked his lips. He would have dropped to his knees then, but Adam reached out, laid his hand on his arm.

  “No. You’re always taking care of me. This time, let me take care of you.”

  He didn’t care if the floorboards bit into his knees. He only cared about the taste of Warren’s cock, the sensation of it in his mouth. His hands played up and down his lover’s sides, caressing naked flesh, sliding around to cup the globes of his ass. Adam sucked Warren’s cock deep, then pulled back, a steady up and down motion, his tongue sliding along the hot shaft. He only cared about pleasuring his lover. Warren’s groan of delight, the shaking of his fingers as he speared them through Adam’s hair thrilled Adam, did things to his emotions he’d never imagined.

  Warren drew in a deep breath, and shivered.

  “On the bed,” he whispered. “Like we did the last time. I want your cock in my mouth, too.”

  Lying head to foot, Adam petted and caressed, his hands stroking Warren’s balls even as he felt his own balls stroked, then licked, then, oh God, sucked into the hot, wet cavern of Warren’s mouth.

  “Give it to me. Please, Adam.”

  Adam didn’t even think about his lover’s impassioned plea. He could only react, thrust his cock as he felt the seed erupt from his body as the shivers of pleasure shook him to the core. He could only draw hard on his lover’s cock until he, too, drank the essence of life, until he felt his lover dissolve into the same rapturous trembling that came with the pinnacle of pleasure.

  For long minutes, the sound of gasping breaths filled the semi-dark. When Warren stirred, Adam moved, pulled him up and into his arms.

  “I should go to the other bedroom,” Warren whispered.

  “Shh. You’ll not. You’ll stay here tonight.” Adam continued to hold Warren even though trembles still wracked his body. He managed to cover them both with a blanket. As the heat of passion cooled, as the sweat of sexual pleasur
e evaporated, the wool covered them, kept them warm.

  “Someone might…”

  “No one will know, Warren. We’re safe. The doors are locked. The windows locked and shaded. For this night, we’re safe.”

  “I hate this. I hate always being afraid.”

  “It’s all right. I don’t blame you for being afraid. Truth is I am, too.” Adam had never suffered any consequences for his choices. Warren had. Once he’d been badly beaten, left naked in a field near his native Philadelphia. That incident had occurred several years before, but the scars, Adam knew, ran deep. As did Adam’s need to protect his lover.

  “I’ll keep you safe, Warren. I promise.”

  “I love you, Adam.”

  “I love you, too.”

  They stayed silent, and Adam wondered if Warren had fallen asleep. He still clung close, holding tight as he only would allow himself to do in the dark of night.

  “I’ve been thinking about that conversation I told you about.”

  “Which one?” Adam continued to stroke Warren’s arms and back. The man had stopped shivering, seemed to be relaxing.

  “The geologist. Do you think there’s anything to what he said?”

  “Likely. There are always new and modern things being invented. We live in a very progressive age.”

  “Progressive in some ways, perhaps.”

  Adam didn’t know what to say to that. He allowed Warren his small bouts of bitterness, for they came few and far between.

  “Sorry,” Warren said. He sprawled onto his back. Adam released him, then turned onto his side, propped his head up, and watched him. He kept silent, for he’d learned his lover preferred quiet when he wanted to work things out in his mind.

  “I’m wondering if the two things are related.” He turned his head and met Adam’s gaze.

  Adam frowned, recalling what Warren had told him over dinner, the fact that Tyrone Maddox seemed to be buying up as much land as he could get his hands on between Waco and the border to the Indian Territory. Warren had met and spoken to a lawyer from Austin who’d been on his way out to see Maddox. The man had stopped in at the courthouse in Waco on a separate matter—a matter he wasn’t going to tell Maddox about, he’d said, as it was none of his concern. Of course, not telling Maddox allowed him to charge the man more for making the “special trip”, the lawyer had said, even if Maddox seemed to be running out of capital.

 

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