Page 12 of Heart of Stone
Daniel had let him stay and had never pushed Stone to sleep with him, but Stone did anyway. It wasn’t love, but gratitude; Stone knew that, because if he’d loved Daniel, maybe he wouldn’t have felt so afraid and ashamed. But the physical pleasure gave Stone a respite from the aching pain and loneliness of knowing that all the family he cared about was gone, and for that, he knew he’d never be able to repay what Daniel had done for him.
It wasn’t meant to last, of course, and Stone figured out he needed to be somewhere else when whispers started up about Daniel and his “Injun boy”. He’d told Daniel he was leaving, and while Daniel hadn’t tried to talk him out of it, he’d given Stone enough money to buy a horse and a saddle, and Stone had bought a much younger Raider, turned eastward, and never looked back.
He’d wondered at times how Daniel had known what Stone was, if there was something he’d given away that indicated he was far more interested in the men who came into the saloon than the women who danced there. He was perfectly well aware that the direction of his interest, especially combined with his mixed blood, was something that could get him killed, and so he’d tried not to think about anyone that way, male or female. He’d slipped a couple of times, when he’d been foolish enough to let himself get near a bottle of whiskey, and he’d ended up in some dark room fumbling around with someone he barely knew just to ease the ache of loneliness. But that hadn’t happened in a long time, not since the last time he’d had a drink, nearly seven years ago, and had ended up with a bullet through his shoulder when the cowboy he’d thought was interested in him turned out to be anything but.
But the situation with Luke was different, just as Stone was a different man, no longer the innocent boy who’d gone knocking on Daniel’s door. For the first time, he had a place to call his own, a chance to build a life that wasn’t based on working for someone else. To be his own man, to steer the course of his own life. This ranch had come to mean more to him than anything else in the two short months he’d been here. He felt a connection to the land, pride and joy in the beauty of it, and he knew he’d protect it with everything he had. This was now hishome, and there wasn’t any place else he’d rather be.
Part of what made up that feeling, though, was one smart-mouthed, grinning cowboy with a gleam in his eye and a teasing word on his lips. A cowboy who seemed quite willing to take Stone as he was and even take him to bed. And that was the one thing Stone knew could never happen.
People talked. He knew it, and Luke sure knew it, since he’d played the role of chaperone for Priss and her Sarah. They’d had to hide things so that folks wouldn’t get the wrong idea and come after them. There were a lot of people in the world who were filled with hate for anything and anyone different, and Stone had run afoul of that attitude far more often than he would have liked. But being part Pawnee would pale in comparison to the condemnation he’d face for doing what he wanted to do with Luke.
No matter what his body was saying, he couldn’t act on it. It would cost too much for him and Luke both, especially for something that could end so badly in other ways. Stone might have been willing to walk away from Daniel, but he had the feeling he wouldn’t be able to walk away from Luke – and it just might kill him if Luke was the one who decided to do the walking.
A sudden gust of wind almost blew Stone’s hat off his head and snapped him out of his reverie. He filled his arms with wood and turned back to the house, and then he stopped and stared at the sight before him. Thick, roiling clouds were pouring over the mountain, and beneath them, the rocks that had been bare only minutes before where completely invisible beneath a blanket of snow.
“Blizzard,” he muttered, dropping the wood and running toward the bunkhouse. The wind was suddenly roaring around his ears, and as he opened the door, a strong gust made it crash against the wall of the bunkhouse. He didn’t really need to say much; the hands could feel the wind, and flakes of snow blew into the room.
“Are the cattle all in the lower pasture?”
“Yeah, we got back less than half an hour ago from movin’ them,” a hand named Mason replied as he tugged on his coat. “But some of the horses are in the field out near the road to town. We’d best bring them back to the stable.”
“Right.” Stone nodded and looked around with a frown, counting heads. “Who went with Luke to work on the fence?”
There was silence for a few moments, and then an older hand whom everyone called Shorty–because he was the tallest of them–spoke up. “I was with him, but he sent me back a while ago. Said he could finish up himself.”
Stone felt his stomach drop to the floor. Luke was at the opposite side of the lake and probably not dressed nearly well enough for a blizzard. As fast as the storm was moving in, he was going to get caught in it unless he’d started back at least half an hour ago. It looked to be a white out, and that could kill even the most experienced cowboy.
“You get the horses. I’ll get Luke.” He didn’t wait for a reply before he hurried back to the house to grab his extra coat and a scarf, donning the second coat over the one he was wearing and using the scarf to tie his hat on his head. Then he was out the door again.
He ran for the stable, saddling up Raider as quickly as he could, and he tied extra blankets to the back of the saddle. Then he mounted up and spurred Raider into a gallop, praying he wasn’t too late as he rode right into the oncoming storm.
One thing that had served Stone well in his life was a natural born sense of direction. He seemed to always know which way he was going, and he never got lost. When he was a child, his mother had said that it was because he came from a long line of trackers whose very survival depended on being able to get where they needed to go, no matter what. The ability had been always been a part of him, and he hoped that it didn’t fail him now as the world blurred out into a hell of frozen white and whipping wind.
He leaned down low over Raider’s neck, guiding the horse with his knees as he peered ahead. The wind was pushing against him and Raider, trying to drive them back, but he pressed on, hoping to meet Luke quickly.
The snow was coming down sideways and piling up fast. In what seemed like no time, Raider was slogging through drifts higher than his knees, but Stone still urged him forward. It was close to a mile and a half from the ranch house to where Luke would have been working, and Stone knew he wasn’t even halfway there.
A few minutes later, however, he saw a dark form against the white, moving erratically off to the south, obviously following the direction of the wind. He altered course toward it, and to his relief, he recognized Mist, her head bent as she pushed forward through the deepening drifts, and he could see Luke’s dark form hunkered down over her back.
“Luke! This way!” he yelled, but his voice was whipped away by the wind. He finally caught up with Mist and reached out to shake Luke’s shoulder. “Hey! Luke! You’re goin’ the wrong way!”
Luke jerked as if he’d been startled out of a dream, and he peered at Stone blearily. “Wrong way?”
Now that he was close, Stone could see Luke was shivering, and his skin was already turning pale from the cold.
“Well, damn.” Luke wavered in the saddle and then slumped forward again, closing his eyes. “I just want to sleep....”
“No, you can’t sleep yet,” Stone shouted. This wouldn’t do; if Luke fell unconscious, he could die. Stone wavered for a moment, and then he came to a decision. It would put a lot of strain on Raider, but he thought the big horse could handle it better than Mist could.
He turned Raider around so that he and Mist were both facing away from the wind, and then he bent and pulled Luke’s left foot out of his stirrup. “You’ve got to help me, cowboy. Come on now. We have to get you home.”
Luke responded weakly, but he managed to help enough that Stone was able to get his left leg lifted over Raider’s saddle, and then Stone steeled himself and used all his strength to heave Luke off of Mist and onto Raider. “Sorry,” he murmured, knowing Luke would probably have bruises later, but it was better than dying from exposure. He settled Luke’s back against his chest and twisted to untie the blankets from Raider’s saddle. It was difficult, but at last, he managed to retrieve them, and he wrapped them around himself and draped them across Luke, shielding him as much as he could from the wind and hoping that maybe his body heat would be enough to keep Luke warm. Then he tied Mist’s reins to Raider’s saddle, wrapped his arms around Luke’s waist, and started Raider back toward home.
“Talk to me, Luke,” he muttered, his lips close to Luke’s ear. “Come on, don’t you have nothin’ to say? That ain’t like you.”
“You’re warm.” Luke leaned heavily against him. “But this ain’t how I wanted to get your arms around me.”
“You ain’t never satisfied, are you?” Stone asked, but there was no heat in his words. He was too relieved that Luke was still alive and breathing. “Just keep talking and don’t go to sleep. Talk about Priss, or the ranch, or Mist. Whatever pops in that foolish head of yours.”