Heart of Stone

by Ari McKay

  Luke understood that line of reasoning, but understanding didn’t make it hurt any less. He couldn’t blame Stone for feeling that way, given Stone’s past; he didn’t know the whole story, of course, but what little Stone had revealed made it clear why Stone would value having a stable home.

  “It ain’t easy,” he conceded, his shoulders slumping wearily. “I can’t argue with that. I can’t make you choose, either. I know havin’ a home is important to you. It’s important to me too, but not as important as bein’ happy. Just bein’ here ain’t enough to make me happy or make this anything more than a house to live in. Can you tell me it’s enough to make you happy?”

  Stone frowned. “You said this was your home. That you want to stay. I’m not just thinkin’ of myself in this. It’s you too! Say we did go on, and we got run out of town. How long would it be before you started hatin’ me for costin’ you so much? We both have a responsibility to this place and to Priss. If we got run off, what happens to the ranch and to the hands? It’s not as simple as just you and me. I ain’t run out on a responsibility yet, Luke. My pa ran out on every job he ever had, and he ran out on us, too. I’d end up hatin’ myself if I acted like him.”

  “I couldn’t never hate you.” Luke thought he understood what was going on, at least a little. He still didn’t know if Stone felt anything for him, but whether Stone did or not, it didn’t really matter because Stone had ghosts haunting him, the kind Luke didn’t have. It would be easy for Luke to walk away from the ranch because it was just a place, and the hands would find work elsewhere, but for Stone, it was all tangled up with his pa, and that was a battle Luke wasn’t sure he could fight, much less win. Stone had to do that himself.

  “This is my home, and I want to stay, but more’n that, I want to be with you.” He paused, debating how to continue. He could admit how he felt and see if that made a difference, but he was feeling too battered, and he was pretty sure it wouldn’t matter. Stone had made his choice, and he’d chosen the ranch, not Luke. “But if that offer ain’t on the table, then I guess that’s the end of it.”

  Stone nodded slowly. “I suppose it is. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to punch me in the face.”

  Luke mustered a smile from somewhere, his pride refusing to let him reveal more than he already had, especially not the fact that his heart was breaking. “No need to apologize. Like you said, we’ll just forget anything untoward happened.” He nodded respectfully and started heading for the stairs, desperate to escape. “Supper’s in the kitchen if you want it. I’ll see you in the mornin’.” He stopped just short of adding boss, unable to voice what had become, for him, a term of endearment.

  “’Night, Luke,” Stone replied, his voice thick and hoarse.

  Luke didn’t reply, and he didn’t look back, knowing if he did, he might do something stupid like begging Stone to reconsider. He didn’t know if he could stay on the ranch after this, but he didn’t want to think about it tonight. He wasn’t the kind to act in haste, and he wasn’t about to start now. He’d wait and watch and think, and then he’d make up his mind. But not tonight.

  Tonight was for whiskey and sleep, and maybe if he was lucky, he wouldn’t dream about Stone Harrison.

  11

  “’NIGHT, Mr. Harrison! Thanks for a great party! Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas,” Stone replied, waving as the last of the hands headed back toward the bunkhouse. Finally alone, he sagged against the wall with a sigh.

  Normally he wasn’t much for socializing, but he’d learned the Christmas Eve party was a tradition at the ranch, and his aunt had used the occasion to thank the hands for their hard work. Stone wasn’t about to cancel something that meant so much to the men, so he’d played host, although he hadn’t enjoyed it, because he felt a pang every time he set eyes on Luke.

  Ever since that evening in the kitchen when he’d had to push Luke away, Stone had felt awful. He’d told Luke the truth, even though lying would have been a damned sight easier. He couldn’t let Luke think that night had meant nothing to him. The trouble was, it had meant a hell of a lot more than he wanted to admit to Luke or anyone else. They both had too much to lose, and Stone couldn’t stand to think of Luke being shot by an angry mob because of him. That was the worst part: knowing he could be responsible for Luke’s death.

  It had been awkward between them ever since, which was to be expected, but Stone missed Luke smiling and teasing him and calling him “boss.” Now it was “sir,” and that word made Stone cringe every time Luke said it. He wished he’d never taken that drink. He wished he’d never crawled into bed with Luke. Everything was wrong, now, and it was all Stone’s fault because he’d given in to temptation.

  He had no choice but to go on, and that meant he had something else to do tonight, something he actually wanted to do this time. He knew he couldn’t make up for hurting Luke, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to make things better.

  Stone headed to the kitchen, where he’d last seen Luke, and he cleared his throat as he caught sight of Luke making a beeline for the stairs. “I was wonderin’ if you have a minute?”

  Luke froze with his foot on the bottom step, obviously wanting to make his escape, but he turned to face Stone, giving him a friendly if somewhat impersonal smile. “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

  “There’s somethin’ in the stable I need you to take a look at. Can you come with me?” he asked, trying to sound casual, but his heart ached over the new strain between them. He missed the comfortable ease they’d once shared.

  “Is somethin’ wrong?” Luke’s expression turned concerned. “Ferdy didn’t kick a hole in the stall again, did he?”

  “No, nothin’ like that. Just somethin’ I want your opinion on. If you don’t mind.”

  “No, sir, I don’t mind.” Luke got his coat from the peg and shrugged into it, and then he grabbed his hat. “Ready when you are.”

  Stone bundled up as well and headed out the door, his heart thudding so hard in his chest he wondered if Luke could hear it. He led the way across to the stable in silence, glad the wind was still for once, so they wouldn’t be half frozen once they got there.

  He opened the door for Luke and followed him inside, glad to see Shorty had left a lantern on as Stone had asked. He’d told Shorty he would be coming out to check on Daisy, the pregnant mare, before he went to bed, but in truth, he had a different purpose in mind.

  He beckoned Luke to the side of Mist’s stall. A blanket was draped over the top rail, covering something underneath. He looked at Luke, feeling almost shy. “It’s after midnight, so it’s Christmas. I had somethin’ I wanted to give you.”

  Luke’s eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head. “You didn’t have to. I didn’t expect nothin’.”

  “I wanted to.” He looked at Luke, silently begging him to understand. “I couldn’t run this place without you. You’ve taught me everything I know, and I want to show you how much y—that means to me.” He pulled the blanket off, revealing a brand new saddle, its rich leather gleaming in the low light. It was a working saddle, but there was fancy embossing on it with the initials “LR” worked into it.

  Luke stared at the saddle, his jaw dropping in shock. “I can’t take that! It’s too much. It’s….” He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

  “Please.” Stone rested his hand on the saddle, stroking the leather. “I want you to have it. If it helps, think of it from bein’ from me and Priss. We both owe you more than we could repay.”

  Luke seemed to waver at that, and then he nodded slowly. He touched the fine leather, the barest brush of his fingertips, and Stone thought he saw a flash of sadness in Luke’s eyes. “For Priss’s sake and the ranch. I didn’t do none of it expectin’ repayment, though.”

  “I know that.” Stone was relieved Luke had accepted the gift; he hoped the next part would go as smoothly. “But you’ve given a good chunk of your life to this ranch, and
that means you’re entitled to somethin’ for it. I mean more’n just pay. Sure, the steady hands work hard, too, but they don’t have the connection to the place you do. You didn’t have to stay on after Priss died, and you didn’t have to help me, but you did. A man has to have somethin’ in his life that’s his and his alone, more’n just the clothes on his back. I don’t know how many times I’d have given up if Raider hadn’t kept me goin’. That’s why I’m givin’ you Mist free and clear. She’s already yours in your heart and hers. I just want to make it official.”

  It was probably the longest speech he’d ever made in his life, but Stone meant every word, and he watched Luke anxiously to see how he’d react.

  Luke opened Mist’s stall and went inside, gently stroking the mare’s neck as he gazed at her in silence for a long minute or two. “I reckon you’re right,” he said at last. “A man does need somethin’ of his own to care about. Somethin’ that needs him too. It’s right generous of you, sir. I’m mighty grateful.”

  Luke’s words sent a shaft of pain through Stone. He wished Luke could feel that way about him, that things weren’t such a mess between them, and the world was a different place where they didn’t care what two men or two women wanted to do together. It had been so hard to tell Luke they couldn’t be together, and now Stone found himself wishing he could take that risk and damn the consequences.

  “You don’t have to be grateful.” Stone kept his hands clenched at his sides so he didn’t touch Luke the way he wanted to. “You deserve a hell of a lot more. I just—” He clamped his mouth shut, horrified he’d nearly blurted out that he wished he could give himself to Luke.

  “You just what?” Luke turned to face Stone at last, his expression somber. “You feel so badly about what happened you’ve got to make it up to me somehow? Well, you don’t. I’m a grown man, and I can take my lumps like a man.” A stubborn frown creased his brow, which was an unusual sight for someone as easygoing as Luke. “I ain’t plannin’ to leave neither, if that’s what you’re worried about. I thought about it at first,” he admitted, “but this ranch is my responsibility too, and I can’t just up and leave no more than you can unless you decide to make me go.”

  Stone wanted to blurt out that Luke had it wrong, and he wasn’t trying to make up for anything, but he bit back the words. “I’d never make you go. I can count on one hand the number of folks I can trust and have a couple of fingers left over, but I know I can depend on you. Maybe I don’t know how to say things sometimes, but I thought I could show you.”

  Luke released a long, slow sigh, and the stubborn frown faded into wistfulness. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then shut it again with a snap, seeming to think better of it. He gazed steadily at Stone for a long time before saying anything.

  “You can still count on me,” he said. “I’ll do what’s best for the ranch. Not just out of respect for Priss’ memory, but for you, too. You got somethin’ to prove to the world, and I’ll help you prove it.”

  There was a sudden knot in his throat, and Stone lowered his gaze. “Thank you.” His voice was hoarse, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. He’d known Luke meant too much to him, but now he realized he’d gone and fallen in love with the man, which was probably the most foolish thing he’d ever done in his life. Especially since he couldn’t let Luke find out how he felt.

  Moving into the stall, Stone ran his hand along Mist’s flank, wishing he could touch Luke instead. “I got the papers signed sayin’ she’s yours. Not that she didn’t already know that. Didn’t you, asaákira?” Mist turned to look at him, and he smiled. “Acikskaawiraah, Kicpii´ru’.”

  Luke shot him a puzzled look. “What’d you say?”

  “I told her to take care of you and called her by her Pawnee name. Kicpii´ru’ means light rain or mist.”

  “That makes it sound real pretty,” Luke said, his expression shifting from puzzled to curious. “Who taught you?”

  Normally Stone didn’t talk about his family, but he wanted to tell Luke. “My ma. She was half Pawnee. People called her Tara, but her name was Áwataaru—brightness.”

  Luke simply nodded, not seeming either surprised or repulsed by the revelation. “I figured you had some Indian blood. It don’t matter to me,” he added quickly. “I ain’t the type to hate anyone for the color of their skin. Far as I’m concerned, ain’t no man my enemy unless he’s tryin’ to kill me for no good reason. Then I’m goin’ to feel a little less kindly toward him.”

  “That’s sensible.” Stone was pleased Luke didn’t care about his origin, but he hadn’t expected Luke to be put off, as easygoing and accepting as Luke was. He was even more pleased they were having a normal conversation, one in which Luke wasn’t calling him “sir” every five minutes; he was coming to truly hate that word. “Well, I should get back to the house, I guess.” He smiled hesitantly. “Merry Christmas, Luke.”

  “Thanks.” Luke offered a half-smile in return, but it was a far cry from the open, easy smiles that had been noticeably missing for the past couple of weeks. “Oh, I got you somethin’ too. It’s back at the house. It’s nothin’ much. Not like this.” He glanced over at Mist’s stall.

  “You did?” Stone’s eyebrows climbed to his hairline, but the idea that Luke thought enough of him to get him a present made him unreasonably happy. “Thank you. That was mighty kind of you.”

  Luke glanced away, appearing embarrassed, and a slight flush rose in his cheeks. “It’s nothin’, really.”

  “No one’s given me a present in longer’n I can remember. That’s enough without me even knowin’ what it is.”

  “I guess you can have it tonight if you want it.” Luke slid his hands into his back pockets. “It’s just somethin’ I thought might be useful.”

  Stone smiled, wishing he could do something more to show Luke how grateful he was. But what he wanted to do was out of the question, so he patted Mist affectionately instead. “Ready to go back to the house?”

  “Sure.” Luke stepped out of the stall and closed it after Stone. He set off toward the house, walking beside Stone but keeping a careful distance. Once they were inside, he headed upstairs, and Stone heard him walking around. When he returned a few minutes later, he was carrying a small package wrapped in plain brown paper, which he held out to Stone.

  “Here you go.”

  Stone took the package, examining it for a moment. He remembered when he’d been small, and his mother had managed to save up enough money to buy him gifts for either his birthday or Christmas. He’d always been so excited, and he felt an echo of his boyish delight as he held Luke’s present in his hands. He smiled, almost hating to open it and end the anticipation, but Luke was waiting. He untied the string and carefully unfolded the paper from around the box.

  The wood had a beautiful brown finish, sanded and stained, and Stone ran his hand over it before he lifted the lid. Inside, on a bed of black fabric, was a gleaming black fountain pen with a gold tip and top clip. Stone drew in a breath in surprise and looked at Luke. “Thank you. It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me.”

  “It’s just a pen,” Luke replied, still seeming abashed. “I thought you could use one of your own now that you’re a landowner.”

  “Yeah.” Stone knew he was probably grinning like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. “Most of the ranchers I worked for had pens, but they weren’t as nice as this. Even Mr. Stevenson’s, and he was right proud of his. Always wore it in his shirt pocket when he went to town, in case he had to sign anything. Thank you, Luke. It’s perfect. I’ll use it proudly.”

  “You’re welcome.” Luke seemed on the verge of saying something else, but instead, he took a step back. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I do.” Stone nodded, closing the box and resisting the urge to stroke the wood again. He looked at Luke from beneath his lashes. “I guess I should get to bed. You’re to take the day off tomorrow, all right? I’ve got the chores.”

  For a moment, it looked like Luk
e might protest, but in the end, he didn’t outright refuse, although he didn’t look pleased either. “I suppose. I just had a whole day off, though, and I don’t know what to do with myself without somethin’ to do.”

  “You could break in that new saddle. See how you and Mist like it.”

  “I reckon I could.” Luke nodded and turned toward the stairs. “Good night.” He paused and then he added, “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas.” Stone watched Luke go up the stairs, wishing wistfully he had the right to go with him and spend the night making them both happy. But that was just a dream he’d have to keep to himself. He was far too old to believe Christmas wishes ever came true.

  12

  “SO THAT’S almost six thousand calves we’re expecting.” Stone looked down at the neatly totaled numbers on the sheet of paper in front of him, feeling a sense of accomplishment. A rancher never knew exactly how many of his cows had ended up pregnant until it got close to birthing time, but when the welcome warmth of spring finally arrived, it appeared Copper Lake had been lucky.

  He glanced toward the other end of the table, where Luke was looking over his own set of papers. Luke had been lean when they first met, but he seemed to have lost weight, along with the tan he’d had the previous fall, leaving him looking thin and pale. But those weren’t the only things that were different, and Stone knew it. Even the hands had noticed and commented on the changes in Luke over the winter; he was still friendly and easygoing, but he was quieter and kept to himself more, as if some of the light had gone out of him, and he didn’t smile as much or joke as often.

  It gave Stone a pang to know it was his fault Luke had changed, and he’d spent more than a few hours by himself, brooding about the situation and wondering how to change it. But try as he might, he didn’t see a way he could give Luke what he wanted—and what he wanted himself—without risking both their lives and losing everything they’d worked for. It was almost enough to drive a man to drink, but that’s what had gotten them both in this situation in the first place.