by Tinnean
“Yes.”
“So Chris and Charlie are girls.”
“Yes. Chris’s name is really Noelle, because she was born on Christmas.”
“And Charlie?”
“She was always Charlie, short for Charlotte.”
Sharps took a pouch from his breast pocket and rolled a cigarette. “Steve?” Sharps offered it to him, and when he shook his head, Sharps put it between his own lips and lit it. “Sorry, ma’am. If you’ll continue?”
Steve had heard it before, but Sharps sat there and took it all in.
* * * *
“So that’s what that was all about,” Sharps murmured as he spread out his bedroll next to Steve’s.
“It is.” He was surprised at how easily his boy accepted the convoluted tale. “Just remember, you have to keep referring to Georgie as a woman and his sisters as boys.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
“You do?” He’d worried Sharps might think a man pretending to be a woman was too much of a deception.
“Yeah. Until we know if this St. Claire is gonna make another attempt on Mrs. Hall and her siblings, it will pay to be cautious.”
“You’re awfully accepting of this situation.”
Sharps just shrugged, and once again Steve wondered what had gone on in the years since he’d last seen his boy.
“What I’d like to know is how you were able to make sense of that code,” he muttered.
“Really? It was a simple code.”
“I couldn’t break it.”
Sharps sat down on the edge of his bedroll and gave him a saucy smile. “I don’t doubt you would have after you’d studied it awhile, Captain”
“Huh. I do.”
Sharps’s smile broadened to a grin. He removed his boots, set them upside down, then stripped down to his drawers, and climbed into his bedroll. “Never mind.” He patted the spot beside him. “Come to bed.”
Chapter 28
Steve woke up the next morning with someone snug against his back. It was unusual, but before he could wonder what the hell he’d gotten himself up to, he remembered the night before. No, he and Sharps hadn’t done more than kiss and fondle each other’s cocks, but it had been his boy in his arms, and it had been better than anything he’d ever felt before.
“Morning, Cap,” Sharps whispered, his breath warm in Steve’s ear.
“Morning.”
“I could do with some breakfast.” Sharps kissed the hinge of Steve’s jaw. “What do you say we rise and shine?”
“I say that sounds like a good idea.”
They rolled out of their bedrolls, dressed, and took care of the mules and horses. Just as they finished, Georgie sang out, “Come and get it.”
They hurried to the fire and accepted plates of potatoes, biscuits, and bacon. Bart took a bite and moaned in pleasure. “Ma’am,” he said to his wife. “If you weren’t already taken, I’d ask you to marry me.”
“Silly.” She leaned over and kissed the corner of his mouth. “You did, and if you recall, I said yes.”
“You did.” Bart became serious. “And I thank God for it every day.”
Steve was glad those two were so happy with each other. At one point, he would have regretted he didn’t have that kind of happiness in his life. He turned his head, and when he saw Sharps observing him, he grinned and winked at his boy. But now he did.
* * * *
They were just finishing breakfast when Bart cleared his throat. “Georgie and I have an announcement. We’ve decided to stay in the valley at least until we hear what the architect has to say. Then we’ll return to town to make arrangements for lumber and carpenters to get our house built come the spring. But I think we will need to see about renting a house in town for the winter.”
“While you think on that, Sharps and I will explore the land around here.”
“You’ll stay nearby, in the vicinity of Hummingbird Valley?”
“If we can find someplace suitable for a small ranch. Maybe raise a small herd of beef cows?” He cocked an eyebrow at Sharps.
“Whatever you say, Cap.”
It pleased Steve to see how happy that made his boy. And they just might have enough privacy to finally make love. Which gave him an idea.
“Georgie, could I see you a minute?”
“Sure, Steve.”
Steve walked over to the wagon and waited for Georgie to join him.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Do you have some cod liver oil I could borrow?”
A concerned expression crossed Georgie’s face. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, fine. Why do you—Oh. Um…We don’t need to consume it.”
“We?” Georgie suddenly smiled, understanding what Steve was driving at. “I’ve got something better, something that won’t smell as if you’ve been making love with a fish.” He climbed into the wagon, rummaged around, and then returned with a pretty porcelain pot with pink and purple flowers twining around it.
“Roses and violets?” He couldn’t help chuckling. “I won’t smell like a fish, I’ll smell like a—” He couldn’t say a bawdy house, that would be insulting. “—a woman.”
“This was the lotion Mama favored.”
Steve recalled the light floral scent Mrs. Pettigrew wore. He took the pot, unscrewed the lid, and peered into it. “It’s almost full.”
“Yes.” Georgie sighed. “I bought it before we left Pennsylvania, but Bart and I haven’t had much opportunity to use it. You know how it is, with my sisters and brother sharing the wagon with us. And even when we’re sharing a bedroll…”
Steve nodded. He’d noticed himself what keen hearing the Pettigrew siblings had. “Well, I appreciate the offer, but I’d prefer the fish oil if you have it.”
“Oh, very well.” Georgie took the lotion and went back into the wagon. In a matter of minutes he returned with the dark bottle of cod liver oil.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m just glad Bart isn’t as stubborn as you.”
Steve paused. “We’re not heading back to town for a few days, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Suppose you and Bart and your pot of lotion go on a picnic tomorrow? Sharps and I will keep an eye on your sisters and brother.”
“That’s kind of you to offer, but we have the architect coming tomorrow.”
“That’s right, I’d forgotten. The day after, then?”
“As long as it doesn’t snow.”
“Right.” Steve laughed and shook his head. In spite of the previous day’s warmth, the temperature had dropped overnight, and he knew from his own experiences on the California and Oregon Trails there could always be unexpected snowfalls.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
They returned to the fire, and Sharps gazed up from his empty plate, giving him a questioning look.
“You done?
“Yes, sir. Maybe make us a lunch to take with us?” Sharps dipped his head, smiling but blushing a little.
“Sounds like a good idea.” Steve began to fill his saddlebag with coffee, jerky, and hardtack.
“Where are you going, Sharps?” Thomas asked. He’d overslept and was just arriving for breakfast. “Thank you, Georgie.” He took a tin plate with biscuits and gravy from the rabbit stew they’d had the night before.
“Captain Steve and I are going to look for some land for ourselves.”
“That spot we saw yesterday?”
“Shh.” Sharps gave the little boy a smile and a wink. “We’re just gonna look around a bit.”
“I want to go, too!”
Steve could see Sharps was about to agree. His lover had no idea what Steve had planned for the day. “Not this time, Thomas.”
“Why not?” The boy thrust out his lower lip.
“Well, if you want to go, I’m sure Captain Steve will let you,” Georgie said, and when Steve gave him an appalled look, Georgie sent a reassuring wink his way. “T
hat’s too bad, though.”
“Why?”
“Well, you know Bart’s going to pace out the floor plan for our new house. Chris and Charlie will get to pick out their rooms, which will probably be the best ones.”
“What about me?”
“Oh, you can choose whatever is left when you get back. All the good rooms will be taken, but that won’t matter since you’ll be spending the day with Sharps.”
Thomas stared at his older brother, then turned to Sharps, his lower lip thrust out. “I won’t be able to go with you.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, little bit, but you know something? The next time I go hunting, I want you to go with me, because you’re the best shot we’ve got with a slingshot.”
“I am, aren’t I?”
“You bet. You got that rabbit just like you said you would. And I’ll look forward to seeing where your room will be when Captain Steve and I get back.”
“Okay.” Thomas tucked into his breakfast.
“I think I’m jealous at how well you handle my little brother,” Georgie said with a slight chuckle.
“Me? You were the one who came up with the clever idea of him missing out on picking his own bedroom.” He rose easily to his feet, and the sheer grace in his movement left Steve breathless. Sharps picked up his saddle and went to where the stallion seemed to be keeping guard over the two mares. “Ready, Cap?” he called over his shoulder.
“Sure.” Steve slung their saddlebags over his shoulder and fetched his own tack. They saddled up, and once he handed Sharps his saddlebag, they mounted and settled themselves into their saddles. “We’ll see you later,” he called to the rest of the camp, and they rode out.
* * * *
“What did Mrs. Hall give you?” Sharps asked after they’d left the valley and had ridden on a mile or so.
Steve grinned at him, reached into a pocket to withdraw the brown bottle, and held it up. The kid tilted his head and frowned. “What’s that?”
Steve knew he had to look exasperated. His mother had been a big believer in dosing her children with it periodically, and while he wouldn’t swear that was the only reason he’d left to go to West Point, knowing he would no longer have to swallow the emulsion had been an added benefit. “Didn’t your pa ever give you cod liver oil?”
“No.”
That took Steve aback. “What, never?”
“Nope.”
“Well, we’re going to use it. Just not in the way the man who came up with the idea had in mind.”
“And how would that be?”
“Well, I thought I’d use it to slick you up and…and have you ride me like a mustang.” He could feel a hard flush mount his cheeks. He was six feet tall, a former captain in the Army of the Potomac, and as Sharps had noted, a highly commended officer. It wouldn’t seem likely he’d prefer to be the passive partner…but he liked it that way. Those who might question his masculinity if they knew otherwise had never had that spot inside them stroked by questing fingers or even better, a hard cock.
A slow smile spread across his boy’s face. “You’d let me do that to you?”
“I would. That is…if you didn’t mind?”
“Never.”
“You…you don’t think the less of me because I’d let you mount me, do you?”
“Never,” Sharps repeated. “It’s kind of you to offer. Although for you, Steve…I’d even let you ride me.”
Before Steve could question the way Sharps phrased the suggestion, Sharps nudged the gray stallion’s sides.
“When I was out riding yesterday, I found a nice piece of land.”
“The one young Thomas mentioned?”
“Yes.” Sharps gave him a sweet smile. “I’d like you to take a look at it.”
“Lead on, MacDuff.”
“Huh?”
“Sorry. It’s Shakespeare. He wrote plays in England centuries ago.” Steve was sorry he mentioned it when color rushed up Sharps’s cheeks. He was about to tell him it wasn’t important, but then he had a thought. “What do you say to coming with me to London?”
Sharps turned his head and blinked. “In England?”
“Yeah. I haven’t been there in years.”
“You were there?”
Steve smiled as he thought of that time. “My folks took me there just before I was to enter West Point. I was presented to Her Majesty the queen.”
“You met Queen Victoria?”
“Yes. My father’s cousin is an earl, and he saw to the whole thing. God, my knees shook.”
“You met the queen?” Sharps seemed flabbergasted, and Steve couldn’t help being charmed.
“Shall I ask my cousin if he can arrange to present you?”
“God, no. I’m just a…” He swallowed. “Just a drifter. Why would you do that?”
“You’re my…my friend, my partner, and you’re so much more than a drifter.”
“Thanks, Cap.” Sharps reined the stallion closer to Steve and reached out a hand. “Great-great grandpa was from Cornwall, and Pa used to talk about it. I’d like to see England”
Steve took Sharps’s hand and held tight. He cleared his throat. “That settles it then. Now. Where’s this land you want me to take a look at?”
Chapter 29
“My God.” Steve stared out over the land, and Sharps couldn’t help grinning. He’d had pretty much the same reaction when he’d first ridden to the edge of the plateau and gazed down in awe at this little slice of heaven.
It was another valley, not nearly as large as the one Mrs. Hall’s pa had come across, but it would suit two men, if Steve was willing to let Sharps stay with him. A small lake, fed by a stream that cut through a pass at the base of the surrounding hills, reflected the blue of the sky. The grassland spreading from the lake to the hills that protected it was just starting to turn yellow, even though they were into the autumn months. The basin was protected from the cooler weather up here on the plateau, where the breeze held a bit of a bite. Sharps had weathered worse; this wasn’t anything too uncomfortable.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” he asked.
“This place…it’s beautiful. Home,” he whispered, and Sharps thought he’d burst with pride at having found the ideal spread for them. “And you came across this yesterday while you and Thomas were hunting?”
“Yep.” Sharps beamed at him. “I reckon it’s about five or six hundred acres, and while it’s not big enough to run a large herd of cattle on it, we could have some beef cows for…for our own use, maybe raise some horses?”
“I like that thought.” Steve gazed off into the distance. “I’ve seen some Appaloosas when I took a wagon train to Oregon—”
“Appaloosas?”
“Spotted horses. Did you have any particular breed in mind?” He sounded amused, as if he didn’t expect Sharps to know anything about breeding horses. Sharps didn’t really, but he’d picked up some knowledge from Colonel Sebring.
“I thought maybe some Morgan mares? Twilight wouldn’t take it kindly if we brought in any other stallions.”
Steve looked surprised and then thoughtful. “You have a point.” Fortunately he didn’t say anything about gelding the stallion or selling him. “I reckon we’ll have to see how it goes.”
“All right, Cap.” Although Sharps wasn’t too concerned about his stallion’s breeding capabilities. He’d heard a ruckus the night before during his watch and had worried a mountain lion was attacking their animals. He’d been surprised no one else had been disturbed, but figured they’d all been worn out by the weeks on the trail. Anyway, this was his job, and he’d rushed to the corral in time to see Twilight dismounting from Steve’s mare. The long and the short of it was…come next fall, he and Steve could well have a new addition to their herd.
“How do we get down there?” Steve asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“Around this way.” He turned Twilight and let the big stallion make his way to the path Sharps had found. It wasn’t bad going down, although coming b
ack up was a little rough. They’d have to walk their horses up the path, which would be inconvenient if they needed to take it on the run. Odds were there would never be circumstances where they’d have to do that, but it always paid not to take chances. Unless there was an easier way up, it might be a good idea to grade the incline.
They came out through the pass, and once again Steve said, “My God.”
“Why don’t you go take a looksee? I’ll set up a place where we can have lunch.”
Steve nodded, but Sharps could see he wasn’t paying much attention to his words. This was a beautiful stretch of land.
Sharps dismounted from the stallion, unsaddled him, and picketed him on a patch of grass a short distance away. A glance around showed Steve at the far end of the valley—it really wasn’t very large. Sharps paced off a stretch of ground that was in the shade and spread his saddle blanket on the grass, making sure there were no rocks beneath it and taking his usual precautions. With that done, he started a small fire and rummaged through the saddlebag for the coffee, startled when he found more. In addition to the jerky and hardtack he’d expected, he found a couple of sandwiches wrapped in brown paper.
Now, that was right kind of Mrs. Hall, he mused. She’d made them bacon sandwiches.
“Lunch is ready,” he called to Steve. “But it’s not like back in the 14th.” He wasn’t sure if his captain heard his words, so he put his fingers into his mouth and let out a shrill whistle. Steve raised his hat and waved it over his head, indicating he had heard Sharps’s signal. “And the man is mine,” he said softly to himself, smiling.
He prepared a pot of coffee, and when the fire was hot enough, he placed it on the glowing embers. While it brewed, he set out the sandwiches and took out a can of peaches for afterward.
Steve’s mare came loping up. He picketed her near the stallion, unsaddled her, and strode to the campfire with the saddle on his hip. “I don’t know how you found this place,” he said as he laid the saddle down. “But I’m glad you did.”
“It’s perfect, don’t you think?” He offered Steve a sandwich, pleased when the captain sat close enough that their thighs brushed. The valley was sheltered, it had its own water source, and the soil seemed fertile. There was even this small stand of trees similar to the ones growing in Mrs. Hall’s valley. It would be a good place to call home.
