Cabin Fever: A M/M Western Romance

by Emilia Loft

“N-no.” Ian replied. “I admire that in you. You’re not ashamed of who you are. How do you achieve that? Because I have been told all my life that these feelings are unnatural and wrong.”

  John looked at Ian for a long moment before he spoke again. “When I look at you, I see a brilliant mind. I see nimble fingers that play a fiddle better than I’ve ever heard. I hear a voice that pleases my ears. I see a strong back and shoulders that can carry a heavy burden. And most importantly, I see a kind heart that knows how to love. God made all of that and it is an insult to Him to be ashamed of any of it.”

  “You see all that?”

  “I see you, Ian.”

  Ian looked away, lost for words. Finally, he said, very quietly, “We’ll still have to keep all of this a secret.”

  “Yes, I agree.” John replied casually. “I imagine most people won’t understand. That doesn’t change anything, though. I still want to continue getting to know you. Do you feel the same?”

  “Of course I do!” Ian said. “I hope you will forgive any doubts I may have.”

  “Nothing to forgive.” John smiled gently. “Any time you doubt, I will be there to take your hand and lead you through them.”

  They settled back to less serious conversation. Ian pointed out a cloud above them that he insisted looked like a rabbit. John argued that it was obviously an elephant. It ended in a fit of giggles as John discovered Ian was particularly ticklish under his arms.

  * * *

  They packed up to leave as the sun began to sink lower in the horizon. John’s shoulder ached after a day spent outdoors and he looked forward to getting home. Still full from their picnic, they decided to forego dinner and spent the evening in quiet repose. Ian sat at the small table in the cabin and wrote a letter while John laid on his bed and read a book Ian had brought with him.

  Later, they watched the last rays of the sun disappear behind the mountain from the carved wooden chairs that sat on the front porch of the cabin. Ian helped John get ready for bed again, applying liniment on his aching shoulder until it felt loose and relaxed once more.

  After John climbed into bed, Ian moved to curl up in the rocking chair like he had the night before.

  “Don’t be daft,” John said, patting the space beside him on the bed. “There’s room for us both here.”

  “You’re sure…?” Ian hesitated.

  “Of course I’m sure. No need for you to suffer in a hard rocking chair. If I hadn’t been so tired last night, I would have insisted you share the bed then, as well.”

  Acquiescing, Ian slipped between the covers behind John, curving his body around him. He laid stiffly, barely breathing.

  “Relax!” John insisted.

  “I’m trying,” Ian said, his voice strained.

  John sighed, trying to be patient despite his tiredness. He burrowed back against Ian and then, quietly, began to sing.

  “Down in some lone valley,

  In a lonesome place

  Where the wild birds do whistle,

  And their notes do increase

  Farewell pretty Saro,

  I bid you adieu,

  But I’ll dream of pretty Saro

  Wherever I go.”

  He felt Ian’s body relax against him and their voices joined together with the second verse.

  By the third, the song slowed and then stopped as sleep overtook them.

  8

  Chapter 8:No Way On Earth to Hide It

  Ian Lofte

  Lockwood, Montana

  My Dear Molly,

  I daren’t write what has taken place this past week, for I fear that it is a dream and, by writing it, that I would wake and find my world unchanged. But if I do not tell someone, I may burst.

  Do you remember that one afternoon, in Boston, when we walked along the river and you taught me how to skip rocks? I told you then that I felt I would be happy living life completely alone, with no one by my side. That I was content to share my interests with only myself. You told me you thought that would be a very lonely existence and, if I remember correctly, I was very vehement in my defense that it would not.

  I was mistaken, Molly Hooper.

  Oh, but it feels like this past week has opened all the curtains into my life and let the sun in! It’s shone light into my darkest corners and revealed what true happiness a life with someone of one’s own choosing can bring.

  I suppose you think me cruel for writing these sentiments about someone else to you, my betrothed. I do not mean any slight to you. You are, still, my best friend and the only one who knows who I truly am. I hope you will celebrate my happiness with me, and not mourn something between the two of us that could never be. Are you still sure, Molly, of your plan to wed me, but in name only? I would not begrudge you if you wish me to release you from your promise. I’m sure I can arrange it so that you are not cast in a bad light.

  I’m sure you have guessed already, but I will tell it to you here: it is “my sheriff” who brings me such joy. He has stolen my heart while I was not looking and I daresay I barely remember what life was like without his sunny countenance.

  But I am being melodramatic and childish. I must end this missive for now - please write and tell me your thoughts. I cannot bear it if I’ve hurt your feelings. Tell me how we will proceed - you always were the leader among the two of us. Write as quickly as you can manage, my dear friend.

  All my best,

  Ian

  * * *

  “What do you dream about?” Ian twined his fingers with John’s and pressed a kiss at the base of his neck.

  They lay in bed together, the early morning sunlight filtering through the window. A week had passed - a glorious, carefree week of stolen kisses, picnics by the lake, and evenings spent in companionable silence. John’s light patrols left much of their days free to spend the time as they wished. Ian’s schoolhouse remained closed, though the weather improved. The clean-up from flooding kept his students unable to attend classes and, for once, he was grateful for that. John set about courting Ian properly, which meant they went for long walks at sunset and John took up the habit of leaving one white daisy for Ian to find. Sometimes he woke to find it on his pillow, John already up, dressed, and out in the barn tending to Azure. Other times, he found it with the stem tucked inside a book or laying across his dinner plate. Ian kept each one, pressing them in between the pages of the books he’d brought from the ranch. Each day John’s shoulder became less painful and he grew stronger. Though Ian rejoiced in this, he also despaired, because he knew it would mean their time together was drawing to a close.

  “Hmmm?” John rolled towards him, burying his face in Ian’s neck and inhaling.

  “Your dreams,” Ian insisted. “You have them every night. What are they about?”

  A shadow flickered across John’s face as he pulled away. “You don’t want to hear about that.”

  “I do, though! I want to know everything about you.”

  “They aren’t happy dreams, Ian.”

  “I gathered as much, based on the sounds you make in your sleep.”

  John rolled to lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes.

  “I dream of the last battle I fought. In the Army. The one that gave me the bullet wound in my shoulder.”

  “Was it terrible?” Ian splayed his fingers across John’s stomach, feeling the tense muscle beneath.

  “It was chaos and horror. Everything you’ve ever imagined in every sermon about hell, that was the battlefield.” John’s voice hitched a little and he stopped to swallow. “The government was seizing Lakota lands in South Dakota and we were sent to… to disarm the Lakota and take their land. There was… a misunderstanding. One of the indians was a deaf man and he didn’t want to give up his rifle. One of my cavalry wouldn’t listen when they said he was deaf and couldn’t hear orders given. There was a scuffle, the rifle went off… and we all started firing.”

  John’s face twisted as he told the story, a
look of great pain crossing over it. “There were….” He

  stopped, his voice breaking. “There were women and children there, as well as Lakota braves. We killed them all, indiscriminately.”

  “You were just following orders.” Ian whispered, his stomach clutching at the images his imagination created.

  John nodded. “Oh yes, just following orders. Of course. But that doesn’t make it right. Well over two hundred people died in that battle on both sides. The only reason I didn’t was because the bullet caught me in the shoulder instead of the heart.”

  “And thank God for that.” Ian uttered harshly.

  “No, God wasn’t with us on that battlefield.” John said. “It was luck and, perhaps, a punishment. That I should live on with the memory of the screaming and the smell of gunpowder in my nose.”

  Ian rested his head on John’s chest, listening to the heartbeat beneath his ear. “You are a good man, John Jameson.”

  John’s hand stroked Ian’s hair absentmindedly. “I am a man. And I try to do good. But I don’t know that I am a good man. You are, though, and I think perhaps you show me how to be a better man.”

  “We do that for each other.” Ian tilted his head and John rewarded him with a kiss. “You dream of the battlefield, then?”

  “Yes. And the hospital afterwards. Not pleasant memories. Ones I would gladly forget, but that is a mercy denied me.”

  Ian sat up in bed and pulled his knees close, his face darkening as he brooded over his thoughts.

  “Hey,” John said, sitting up as well and running a knuckle over Ian’s jaw. “Don’t think of it. I certainly try not to. It is enough that I wake from those dreams to find you with me.”

  “It won’t always be that way, though.” Ian pointed out. “Your shoulder is healed and my classes will soon resume.”

  “And you will have to go home, and we will have to pretend we are nothing more than acquaintances.” John nodded. “I know this. I do. But it is my fervent hope that we might continue to meet - you can come and visit Azure, and I can stop at the lake on my patrols. It won’t be as comforting as feeling you against me while I sleep, but it will be enough. Don’t you think?”

  “No, it isn’t enough.” Ian scowled. “It will never be enough. I could be with you every moment of my day and it would not be enough.”

  John laughed and pulled Ian closer to him, settling him in his lap and kissing the top of his head. “I know, dear one. I know. But we will make it work for us, won’t we?”

  “I suppose.” Ian huffed. “If that is the only way.”

  “You know it is. I could not bear it if harm came to you because of me. So you must behave as you always have and we will keep our courting secret.”

  “Will it be like this forever?”

  “I wish I could say for sure, but I don’t know. I hope not, though. I hope we will find a way to be together, away from prying eyes and gossiping tongues.”

  They stayed together for a moment longer, enjoying the quiet of the morning, and then Ian rose to dress. John followed, happy to find his shoulder moved smoothly and with only a slight ache at the joint. He would be able to resume full patrols soon, as well as taking care of the matter of the cattle mutilations.

  Ian busied himself at the stove, frying johnnycakes for their breakfast. After he’d finished dressing, John came up behind Ian and leaned into him. His hands stole to Ian’s waist and rested there, lightly. What he would have done after that remained unknown, for at that moment the sound of a throat clearing from the front doorway interrupted them.

  John jumped apart from Ian and Ian’s pan of johnnycakes clattered to the floor. They spun around to see Mikael casting his shadow in the doorway.

  “Sheriff Jameson,” he said, stiffly. “I would speak with you.”

  He turned on his heel and walked outside. John looked at Ian, who looked back at him, terrified.

  “It will be okay,” John reassured Ian. “I promise. I’ll make it okay.”

  He left Ian to clean up their aborted breakfast and went outside to find Mikael sitting on the porch, gazing out over the mountains.

  “Mayor?” John asked, cautiously.

  “There have been more mutilations this morning. Three calves, barely weaned.” Mikael said sharply. “I came to see if your shoulder was healed.”

  “It, ah… it is, yes. I was planning to come see you today and let you know I would be resuming my duties.”

  “Good. That’s very good.”

  “I’ll do an overnight patrol, then, with Frank and Percy. Tonight?”

  “That would be appreciated.”

  “Then I’ll make the arrangements.” John paused, waiting for Mikael to continue, but the silence stretched between them. “Sir, about what you walked into back there….”

  “My brother,” Mikael interrupted. “Is to be married this summer. Did he tell you that?”

  John’s stomach twisted. “N-no, he did not.”

  “He’s betrothed to a young lady he was friendly with back home. It’s quite a fortuitous pairing as her family is well-off. Between the two of them, they will both secure a good future for each other.”

  John nodded. “I imagine so, yes.”

  “You take my meaning, then?”

  John’s jaw tightened and he looked away from Mikael and nodded. “I do.”

  “Good man, Sheriff Jameson.” Mikael stood and brushed nonexistent dust from his clothing. “Do let me know if you need anything while arranging things this evening.”

  John watched Mikael ride back to the ranch, his face hot and his thoughts jumbled.

  “John?” Ian appeared in the doorway. “Everything okay?”

  John closed his eyes tightly. Summer. He isn’t marrying until summer. We have until then.

  He turned, smiling brightly at Ian. “It’s fine. He didn’t see anything.”

  “R-really?” Ian looked hesitant.

  “Really. We’re fine. I’ve got to get back to my duties, though. There’s more trouble with the cattle on your ranch.”

  Ian nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “Of course. I’m sure Mikael is eager to get it all cleared up.”

  “He is. Were you able to save breakfast? I’m starving.”

  “I’ll make us some more.” Ian said, pulling a face. “I had to throw the others out.”

  “I’ll help.” John pushed past Ian and continued pretending everything was fine, even though the earth felt as though it were crumbling beneath him. “Let’s enjoy a last breakfast together.”

  9

  Chapter 9: Beat the Devil Aroud the Stump

  Western Union Telegram

  Mrs. Caroline Hooper, Boston, Mass

  I find it necessary to accelerate our plans. Train tickets and itinerary arriving soon.

  M. Lofte.

  * * *

  Ian was quiet as John cleared away breakfast.

  “Are you certain my brother didn’t say anything?” He asked.

  “N-nothing,” John tried to keep his voice steady.

  “Because you know he only sees what he wants to see. You know that, don’t you?”

  John nodded, turning around and folding his arms. “He’s just eager for me to get back to work.”

  Ian watched John for a few moments more and then nodded, looking away. “I suppose that’s understandable. If you’ll be busy today, perhaps I’ll go by the schoolhouse and get things ready for classes to resume.”

  “I’ll take you there before I head to the ranch.” John offered. “That takes you a little out of your way,” teased Ian. John grinned. “I don’t care. C’mon, let’s saddle up Azure.”

  Ian followed John to the stable and soon Azure was saddled and they rode towards town. Ian leaned his head back against John and smiled, closing his eyes and enjoying the soft, warm breeze that ruffled his hair.

  The muddy roads had dried to dust and the heavy rains left behind blossoming wildflowers . John kept Azure at a slow pace, despite the need to get back to work. He wanted this
moment, alone with Ian, to last forever. But all too soon, the schoolhouse came into view. John reined Azure to a stop next to the fence and dismounted. He reached up to help Ian down. They stood, face to face, John’s hands resting on Ian’s waist. They shared a secretive smile with each other and John leaned in to brush his lips briefly against Ian’s, which brought the color flooding to Ian’s cheeks.

  John reached into the pack strapped to Azure’s side and withdrew the daisy he’d carefully tucked into it that morning. He held it out to Ian, twirling it between his fingers.

  “So you’ll think of me while you work.” John said.

  “I think of you every moment of the day,” Ian replied, but took the daisy and touched it to his cheek. “Thank you.”

  “I won’t see you tonight,” John scrunched his face in disappointment. “But perhaps tomorrow, if my overnight patrol is successful?”

  “Please be careful, John.”

  “Don’t worry, Ian. This is my job, after all.”

  “I know, but be careful for me, anyway?”

  John relented. “Of course.”

  He lifted Ian’s hand to his lips, brushing them across his knuckles, and then moved to mount Azure once more. As he turned, he caught a flash of red disappearing around the corner of the row of stores across the road.

  “Something wrong?” Ian asked, when John froze in his movements.

  “I thought I saw….” John shook his head. “No, nothing. Trick of the light.”

  He tipped his hat to Ian and then turned Azure towards the Lofte ranch and rode off.

  * * *

  John spent the rest of the afternoon arranging things at the Lofte Ranch. He, Frank, and Percy each chose strategic hiding places around the corral John surmised would be hit next. He saw Ian briefly that evening, when he returned home. John was too preoccupied with planning to do more than wave at Ian, something that caught Mikael’s sharp gaze. After that, Mikael suggested sending men to fetch Ian’s things from John’s cabin, as it was clear that John no longer needed assistance at home. Ian disappeared to his quarters shortly after that and John was left waiting for sunset to begin his patrol.