Sexy to Go Volume 5

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  That’s How It Is

  Shiloh Saddler

  August, 1850

  Columbus, Georgia

  James’ ass clenched, the lingering ache of their vigorous lovemaking last night reminding him of his time with Daniel. Memories of their long and sensual coupling passed through his mind. It had been his idea to bring each other as much pleasure as they could before coming to town. He thought it would sustain them if the worst happened.

  Who had he been kidding? A night like that only made him crave his lover more.

  James hurt deep inside like he’d been trampled by a horse—make that a herd of horses. He knew Daniel wouldn’t make enough money from the cotton harvest to pay back the loan on their farm. Of course, telling him ‘I told you so’ wasn’t going to bring the least bit satisfaction when their futures were on the line.

  James glanced at the cloudless blue sky. It seemed too nice a day to spell their doom. Ever since Daniel had sold their harvest and came up fifty dollars short an hour ago, he’d been praying. Likely they’d both been silently praying.

  Maybe money would rain down like manna from heaven. He grunted. That was highly unlikely. Keeping a step behind Daniel as they strode through town, he peeked at the people they passed. Could one of them be sent to help? They’d had so much bad luck in the last few months it was about time something went their way.

  Yes, God helped those who helped themselves. And he and Daniel had worked their asses off. For what? To lose the farm to the bank and be separated? No.

  He gritted his teeth. God couldn’t be that cruel.

  “Bronson?” a man’s voice called out to them. “Daniel Bronson?”

  The voice sounded familiar, but James couldn’t place it until he saw Mr. Moore hailing them from the other side of the street.

  “Just dandy,” Daniel mumbled, before pasting on a smile and crossing the road to greet the man.

  Mr. Moore had been one of Daniel’s neighbors before they moved.

  “At least he’s not snubbing you,” James whispered.

  “I barely look better than a street urchin,” Daniel replied. “Likely he’s going to rub in my disgrace.”

  James pressed his lips together. Daniel wasn’t in a good mood, and he knew when to remain silent.

  “Mr. Moore, what a pleasant surprise,” Daniel said, extending his hand to the older man.

  He was trying to be cordial, but James noticed his tense muscles; seeing their former friend stung. The man wore a typical black business suit, clean and pressed. His stylish chestnut beard recently trimmed, he was the picture of southern success.

  “What brings you to Columbus?”

  Mr. Moore gave a half shrug. “Business. Had an argument with some people back home. Told them I was taking my business elsewhere.”

  “I see. Then I hope your business went well here.”

  Mr. Moore nodded. “It did, thank you. And how is your business going?”

  James held his breath and studied his feet, unaccustomed to the old shoes he was wearing. He’d been barefoot for weeks.

  “I’m managing,” Daniel replied.

  James raised his head slightly and coughed once.

  Mr. Moore’s attention switched to him and then slowly went back to Daniel. A pregnant pause followed. “I know you’ve fallen on some hard times, Bronson. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Daniel cut James a razor sharp glare before offering Mr. Moore a faltering smile.

  James knew it would be hard for his lover to confess his need of financial assistance, but they had run out of options. He hoped Daniel would be able to swallow his pride. Just this once.

  “I’m running short of funds at the moment,” Daniel said as quietly as he could while still being heard.

  Mr. Moore rubbed a hand across his chin. “You need a loan?” he guessed.

  Cheeks reddening, Daniel nodded. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, sir.”

  “How much?”

  “Not a fortune. Just enough to get by. Sixty dollars.”

  “Hmm. That sounds reasonable. I’ve got that much on me.” He pulled out his wallet and counted out six ten dollar bills, placing them in Daniel’s waiting hand. “I expect James will be working off your loan?”

  Daniel pocketed the money and swallowed hard. “How long?”

  James stood as still as a statue, schooling himself not to react to whatever Mr. Moore dictated. Daniel was over a barrel. He could be stuck on the Moore plantation for up to two months, but he’d endure the separation from his lover. At least he knew he’d see him again.

  “One month.”

  James blinked. Did he hear that right? That was extremely generous.

  “Agreed,” Daniel said, and the two men shook to seal the deal. They didn’t bother to draw up a contract. Mr. Moore was trustworthy, and for that James was grateful.

  “I have more business in town,” Mr. Moore said. “You’ll come back home with me when I’m done, James.”

  Being spoken to for the first time, James bobbed his head. “Yes, Master Moore.” He hated saying master, but he knew the word was expected on the Moore plantation.

  “Will you find us then?” Daniel asked. “I have to go to the bank and then to the mercantile.”

  “Take your time. I’m in no hurry,” Mr. Moore replied. “I’ll collect James after business hours.”

  “Yes, sir,” Daniel said. “Thank you.”

  “Collect me,” James grumbled as soon as he was sure Mr. Moore was out of earshot. “I’m not a sack of grain.”

  Daniel sighed. “I know, James. This isn’t going to be easy for either of us.” He left off what they both knew. This was the only way.

  Daniel halted on the boardwalk and shivered as if stuck by a strong wind. It was the height of summer and there wasn’t even a breeze. “Are you all right, sir?”

  “Follow me now.” The hardness in his voice sped James’ heart. Something was wrong. Daniel ducked into the nearest alley and sank to the ground, back against the livery wall.

  James crouched beside him. Was he ill? “What is wrong?”

  “A feeling,” Daniel said. “I have a bad feeling.”

  The hairs on James’ nape straightened. “What kind of feeling?”

  “Of being watched.” Daniel looked both ways down the alley. “Have you seen Whitaker in town today?”

  “No.” He preferred not to run into their bully neighbor. Soon he wouldn’t be able to push them off their land. After Daniel owned it, would he stop trying?

  Daniel held out his hand, silently asking to be pulled to his feet. James didn’t mind obliging. Their palms touched and his skin briefly tingled.

  Straightening, Daniel didn’t look any calmer than before. He took a breath and dug out all his money, handing it to James.

  James stared at it confused. That was a lot of money, what Mr. Moore had given them along with the money from the cotton harvest.

  “I want you to carry it,” Daniel explained.

  James patted his shirt and then his trousers. “I don’t have any pockets.” He wasn’t even wearing a coat.

  “Divide the stacks of bills and stuff them in your shoes.”

  “Are you serious?”

  His narrowed eyes brooked no argument. Feeling as if he’d swallowed a stone, James followed directions.

  “Good. Now we’re going to split up. Meet me outside the bank.”

  “Split up? I don’t think so.” If his lover didn’t feel safe then he needed to be glued to his side. “I want to be able to protect you.”

  “No, James,” Daniel said, clapping his shoulder in a tight squeeze. “We’re going to do this my way.”

  James opened his mouth to protest again.

  “I’m the boss.” Daniel’s words quiet
ed him. “What I say goes.”

  James’ knotted insides looped together even further. If Daniel was going to act that way he was in desperate straits.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Daniel looked like he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. “Go to the bank now. Try to be as inconspicuous as possible. I’m going to wait a few minutes and then take the long way around and go to the bank from the opposite direction.”

  “Be careful,” James said before leaving. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. I love you, he mouthed, afraid to speak the words in public.

  Daniel grinned briefly before waving him on.

  It wasn’t hard to walk to the bank without drawing attention to himself. Now, loitering around the bank and waiting for Daniel without a white person getting irritated by his presence would be another story.

  He debated whether to sit on the bench across from the hitching post. It had been a long walk into town and he wanted to rest his feet. If someone told him to move he’d leave. Sinking onto the wooden seat he tried to relax, but his galloping heart kept him on edge.

  Time crawled by slower than a two legged turtle. James glanced down the street expecting to see Daniel coming. He never did.

  After what felt like forever, but was probably only a half hour, a man in a teller’s uniform stepped outside. “What are you doing here, boy?” he asked.

  James jumped to his feet. “Waiting for my master, sir. He said he’d be coming to the bank shortly.”

  The teller scowled. “How much longer will he be?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I expected him here before now.”

  “James!” Hearing his name, James turned around and saw Mr. Moore striding across the street to join him. While he would have preferred to see Daniel, Mr. Moore would make sure there was no issue with the bank.

  “Is he your master?”

  “No, sir. A friend of my master, though.” That was stretching it a bit.

  The teller grunted. “I’ll give him ten more minutes to show and then you need to move along.”

  James ran his tongue around his dry mouth. “Yes, sir.”

  Mr. Moore reached him and the trouble in his eyes told him something had happened long before his words.

  “Your master’s been hurt,” he said, stepping onto the boardwalk.

  All the air rushed out of his lungs and he felt light-headed. “Hurt?” he squeaked out. “How hurt?”

  “He was attacked and robbed.” Mr. Moore ran a hand down his face. “I was the one to find him lying in the street.”

  Oh God. I never should have left him.

  “Sit down, James,” Mr. Moore said gently. “You’re looking pale.”

  James didn’t argue. If the bench wasn’t supporting him, he’d have crumpled to the ground. Breathe. Gradually the world stopped spinning.

  “How do you know he was robbed, sir?” None of this made sense.

  “Well, I had just given him the sixty dollars, and the sheriff didn’t find it on him.”

  Slowly the information to sank in. “He wasn’t robbed,” James said. “I have the money.” He took off his shoes and pulled out all the bills.

  Mr. Moore’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “You have the money?”

  Suddenly James realized how bad this must look. He needed to choose his words carefully. “Master Bronson gave me the money and sent me on ahead to the bank. He said he’d meet me here.” Anticipating his next question James added, “Master Bronson thought he was being followed.”

  “I see.” Mr. Moore bit his lip. “Did you see who might have been following him?”

  “No, sir.” Silence spread between them. Mr. Moore hadn’t said if Daniel was dead or alive. An acrid taste filled his mouth and he swallowed. “Is, is Master Bronson going to be all right?”

  Mr. Moore stared down the street as if searching for the outlaw. “He’s unconscious, James. Looked like he was struck in the back of the head with the butt of a gun. But he’s alive. The doctor’s tending to him.”

  James didn’t reply. Mr. Moore didn’t offer him any promises. It sounded like it could easily go either way. What was going to happen now?

  Mr. Moore looked back to him and then the money he held in his hands. “I’m not sure if the bank will let me deposit this for Bronson, but we should try.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  After explaining what happened, the bank allowed Mr. Moore to deposit the money on Daniel’s behalf. James breathed a little easier knowing he was no longer responsible for the fortune, but there was still important business to do. Whether Daniel would make it or not, he knew his lover would want him to pay back the loan.

  Mr. Moore signed a piece of paper and turned to leave, but James lingered near the teller window.

  Mr. Moore stopped and glanced at him. “Is there something else, James?”

  “Yes, sir.” He turned his attention back to the teller who had tried to get rid of him earlier. He swallowed hard. “Master Bronson was bringing the money here with intention to pay back the loan. He wants to own his farm free and clear.”

  The teller stared at him and then at Mr. Moore. “Is this true, Mr. Moore?”

  James gritted his teeth. The man didn’t know their business. He hadn’t seen them in months.

  “If James says it is true then it is,” he replied with a slight edge to his voice.

  “Very well, sir. I will handle the transaction and get you another receipt. Please sign this paper.”

  Mr. Moore did as asked, staring at the receipt a moment before signing the other paper presented to him.

  “I’d like to see Master Bronson,” James said as soon as they’d ventured outside.

  “Bronson only has ten dollars in his account now,” Mr. Moore replied in a low voice.

  “Yes, sir,” James replied. “I know.”

  “Damn.” Mr. Moore heaved a sigh. “Your master is just resting, you know; the doctor drugged him up. The first thing I need to do is get you a job.”

  “A job?” James thought he already had a job working for Mr. Moore.

  “Yes, a job in town so you’ll be close to Bronson when he wakes and needs you to take care of him. A job so you’ll be able to slowly pay back the doctor bills.”

  “Oh, I see,” James said softly. It made perfect sense.

  After visiting several businesses in town, the only place willing to hire him was the livery stable. James wasn’t fond of mucking out stalls and pitching hay, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  Mr. Moore shook hands with the livery owner. “You start work tomorrow morning, James,” he said.

  “Yes, Master Moore. Thank you.”

  “Now we can go check on Bronson. The doctor should be done by now.”

  James nodded and followed him down the boardwalk. He didn’t know where the doctor’s office was located. Mixed emotions warred inside him. How would he react to seeing Daniel practically lifeless? Crying in front of Mr. Moore and the doctor was not an option.

  Somehow he had to hold it together.

  His lover needed him to remain strong, strong for both of them.

  After softly knocking on door, Mr. Moore entered the doctor’s office, James on his heels. The doctor came out to greet them, wiping his wet hands on the side of his striped trousers.

  “Doctor Abrams, this is James. He belongs to Bronson.”

  The doctor nodded. “Your master had a cracked skull and a swollen head. He needs to rest. We pray the swelling will go down. If it does he has a good chance of recovery.”

  A good chance of recovery. James repeated those words in his mind. He had to hold onto them.

  James hesitated. “May I see him?”

  “If you make it short, boy,” the doctor replied in a friendly tone. He opened the door to Daniel’s room and James entered quietly. He held his breath afraid even his breathing would disturb him.

  Daniel looked as white as a sheet. Most of his blonde hair was covered by bandages wrapped around his swollen head. />
  The doctor stepped beside him, as if to offer support.

  “He looks to be resting peacefully.”

  “He is now,” the doctor replied.

  James scurried out of the room before the rush of emotion struck him. He chewed the inside of his cheek, reminding himself to hold it together. He didn’t want to leave Daniel. What would happen when he awoke? He didn’t want his lover to be alone.

  Daniel was currently the doctor’s only patient. He glanced from Mr. Moore to the doctor. “Is it possible for me to stay with him?” he whispered. “I won’t be any trouble. I’ll just sleep on the floor.”

  The doctor stared at him for a long time. “Do you have another place to go?” he asked finally.

  James wanted to say no, but Mr. Moore knew that was a lie. “Yes, sir. I’ll be working in the livery stable. I can sleep in a stall.”

  “I think that would be for the best,” the doctor replied. “Of course, you can visit him whenever you want.”

  “I understand, Doctor. Thank you.” James struggled to keep disappointment from his voice. He failed miserably. His heart shattered into little pieces like a dropped mirror.

  “Excuse me,” he said. “I need to get some air.” He hurried outside leaving the two white men staring at his backside.

  Gripping the hitching post hard his knuckles blanched. It had been painful to see his lover so helpless and being unable to help him. Taking slow, deep breaths, he slowly calmed.

  After several minutes of being alone, Mr. Moore joined him. “Are you going to be all right, James?” The softness in the man’s words touched him.

  “Yes, sir. It is Master Bronson we should worry about.”

  The man nodded. “I’ll be praying for him, James. He is a strong man. He’ll pull through.”

  James knew he words were meant to comfort him, but they didn’t ease his fears. They didn’t know if Daniel would live or not. Only God knew.

  He stared up at the sunny sky. God, if I lose Daniel…you might as well take me, too. A single tear stung his cheek and he quickly wiped it away, hoping Mr. Moore hadn’t noticed.