by Jan Irving
LUKE and Jessie had been living under Morgan’s roof a week when the subject of Morgan’s boyfriend came up again.
During that time, Luke had shoved his unsettling thoughts pretty much from his head, successful because of Jessie, who mostly slept through the nights now—but not always— and the hard work of rebuilding Morgan’s barn.
Morgan had hired Leif Gunnar’s local construction company, so his guys worked with Luke during the days, as the autumn sun still had the power to make it pretty warm.
During this time, Luke also tried to make a little room for exercising Sable, though he still wasn’t comfortable riding too far from Morgan’s house and away from Jessie. Most days, he settled for riding back and forth over the unpaved road that led from the log cabin to the turn off onto the local road. It was also a good way to take a closer look at the outbuildings that Morgan wanted restored.
One night, Jessie wouldn’t settle, and Luke was pacing the loft with her, the lamp by the bed providing dim light. He was hoping she wouldn’t wake up Morgan, who had had a long day treating some patients with early flu bugs and a cowboy from a nearby ranch who had fallen off his horse and broken his leg. But when he heard the creak of the step just out of eyesight, he knew he’d failed.
“Sorry we woke you,” he called, letting Morgan know it was okay to come up. Morgan was respectful of Luke and Jessie’s space and never came all the way up the stairs without an invitation.
Morgan appeared, brown hair mussed around his face from sleep, eyes heavy. Luke figured he probably looked the same way. Only Jessie wanted to be up at this hour!
“I could make some hot cocoa for us,” Morgan offered.
“Why don’t you come into the kitchen with her and we’ll have some.”
Luke nodded. Sometimes when he gave up trying to get Jess back to sleep and resigned himself to being awake was that when she fell asleep. Babies were very contrary, he’d discovered.
He followed Morgan down the stairs, the little mobile tinkling softly from the air disturbed by their passage. Since Luke had repaired the gap in the roof, they no longer had bats winging just below the peaked ceiling anymore. The cabin was a little shabby, but sound and comfortable. What Luke liked best about it was listening to the wind moving through the trees beyond his window in the loft; that and the soft starlight that lit his room.
In the kitchen, Morgan poured milk into a saucepan, yawning. He was wearing a blue T-shirt that fit tightly around his chest and some gray boxers. Luke noticed, not for the first time, that his new boss was lean and muscular for a doctor. He looked away from Morgan to his daughter, settling in one of the wooden chairs with her. “Are you sure you aren’t sick of us?” he asked Morgan for the tenth time.
He couldn’t imagine why anyone in their right mind would want to be in the same house with a newborn night after night.
“I told you I’m used to snatching sleep when I can,”
Morgan said, looking peaceful. “And sometimes medicine… it’s damned depressing. Telling someone they have cancer, or stitching them up and knowing they are in pain. It’s nice to be around a healthy baby.”
“Did you ever want kids?” Luke dared to ask. It had to be the late night inviting confidences, since he’d carefully avoided asking Morgan any more personal questions since that first time. He’d felt out of sorts for days afterwards, sometimes unable to sleep even when Jessie didn’t wake him up.
“Yeah, but it’s unlikely,” Morgan said, pulling out some mugs. “I don’t have a partner. I’ll have to settle for vicariously enjoying your Jessica.”
“You’re certainly getting to enjoy her tonight,” Luke said dryly. But Morgan really didn’t seem to mind. The truth was, he was as easy to live with as his house. He spent a lot of his time wearing glasses—doing paperwork or reading in the evenings—so Luke was left on his own. Sometimes Luke brought Jessie down to the great room and sat with Morgan, or walked through the woods near the cabin while Morgan watched her, which offered Luke time on his own.
Morgan never pressed his company on Luke.
“What a way to spend Friday night,” Luke continued. “In a million years, I never saw myself doing this.”
“But you don’t regret it now,” Morgan said. He was mixing the cocoa powder into the milk now, and adding a little sugar and nutmeg, which was his own twist on it.
Jessie had settled in Luke’s arms, blinking up at him, calmer now, as if she liked listening to the voices of the men talking.
“No, just… sometimes. I guess it’s like if you suddenly buy a dog and then you have to go out and walk him in a snowstorm. Times one thousand.”
Morgan handed Luke his drink, settling in the chair opposite him. “Um,” he agreed.
“So… why aren’t you with your, um, boyfriend?” Luke kept his eyes focused on the steam rising from his mug. “It being Friday night.”
“He’s not—” Morgan cut himself off and bit his lip. “It’s casual with us.”
“Oh.” Luke felt out of his depth. He could feel his cheeks heating. “Right.”
“He’s a professor at the local university,” Morgan went on to explain. “So usually we’ll do something cultural, like see foreign films.”
“I’m more into action movies than, um… guess I’m a cliché, huh?” He had so little in common with Morgan. He worked with his back and his hands, not his mind, and he was used to roughing it. He was used to one-nighters. Even if this thing that Morgan had going was casual, it was sure as hell more settled than anything Luke had ever experienced.
“I always had a thing for cowboys,” Morgan confessed, his gaze on Luke’s tanned hands where he held his baby daughter. “Laconic, capable, muscled, hard men in cowboy boots and jeans. There was this one gay stripper I used to….”
Then he put his cup down abruptly. “Excuse me; I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. I think I’m a little punchy.”
“You didn’t,” Luke said. Wow. Did Morgan ever imagine Luke stripping out of his jeans? He swallowed hard. “So will you see your… friend on Saturday night?”
“Actually, I will,” Morgan said. “I invited him here for dinner.”
That freaked Luke out more than the cowboy stripper thing. What would he have to say to a professor, someone into foreign films? Or would Morgan expect the hired help and his daughter to make themselves scarce so he could be alone with the guy?
Morgan gave a rusty laugh. “I invited him here since I thought it might make you more comfortable with me.” He shook his head. “From the look on your face, I missed something. But last week, when you asked me those questions, I could see you were a little… confused.”
“I wasn’t sure what I was feeling,” Luke confessed, trying to match Morgan’s honesty. “You didn’t have to do that, invite him here for me. It’s your house.”
“But I share it with you and Jessie now,” Morgan said.
Then he flushed. “I think I overcompensated.”
“What will I say to him?” Luke asked. “I mean, I have never seen a film where they don’t speak English.”
“You don’t have to impress him,” Morgan said gently.
“Any more than I guess I needed to reassure you. Now I wish I hadn’t invited Steven….”
Luke wished he hadn’t, either, but it was Morgan’s house and his friend. But just how close were they, and would this Steven kiss and touch Morgan?
SPLITTING logs by the barn the next morning, his shirt off, his body getting into the groove, Luke asked himself why he’d had such a dumb thought, about Morgan and Steven kissing in front of him. Why did it bother him so much? He’d honestly not cared when Morgan had told him he was gay, other than hoping he wouldn’t somehow say the wrong thing to him. His father had been a very tolerant man, maybe because he’d been a working man all his life, and he’d tried to teach Luke to respect someone based on their actions, not their differences.
Whump!
Splinters shot out and sections of log fell like slices fro
m an orange. Would Morgan and Steven go into Morgan’s room?
Whump!
The axe got caught in the spine of wood and Luke left it, walking away with his hands on his hips. No, he answered his own question. Morgan was really focused on making Luke feel comfortable. He’d never do that. But would that mean that Morgan would follow his friend home after their dinner?
Luke shoved his hair off his forehead, annoyed with himself. What the hell was he thinking about this shit for all the time? It was none of his business.
“You look like a man with a lot on his mind,” Leif Gunnar noted. The tall, Nordic-looking guy was the owner of the construction company restoring the barn. He came by once or twice a day to make sure that work was going smoothly.
Luke gave the other man a rueful look as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess.”
Leif’s gray eyes moved over Luke’s face. “It must be rough, being a new father,” he said.
That wasn’t what was eating at Luke, but of course, he couldn’t bring up the burr under his saddle over Morgan. It was too strange. “Can be,” he agreed.
“I have the opposite problem,” Leif said. “My father can be a handful.”
Luke nodded, since he’d heard that from Leif’s men.
“Are you finding it… easy living here with Morgan?” Leif asked, his gaze on his work gloves as he tugged them on.
Luke instantly knew it was the gay thing, like when Gena had asked him. But as with Gena, he sensed this wasn’t idle gossip. “It’s different from what I’m used to,” he confessed.
“My partner Mal just moved in for the winter,” Leif said, a quiet glow lighting up his face. And oh, boy, that was why he’d brought up the topic with Luke…. “His cottage needs more work before it’s ready for a long winter.”
Luke understood Leif was letting him know he was someone that Luke could talk to, if he needed. Someone not Morgan. “I find myself thinking about him a lot,” he said.
“Uh, that sounded odd. What I mean is… he has a boyfriend.”
“And that makes you uncomfortable?” Leif asked mildly.
“Yes!”
Leif’s eyes widened.
Luke nudged a log so it rolled toward the woodpile he was building for winter. He was so finished with this topic.
“The corral you built is good work,” Leif finally said. “If you ever want a job, look me up.”
“Thanks,” Luke called, watching the other man walk away. He went back to the axe resting in the log, tugging it free and swinging again.
“STEAKS, salad… French bread,” Morgan was itemizing with Gena when Luke walked in. His hair was cold around his neck since he’d used the hose outside to wash off his head and chest. Now his blue work shirt stuck in damp patches to his skin.
Morgan’s gaze moved over him and then moved quickly away. “You like steak, don’t you?” he asked Luke.
“Sure,” Luke said. At least it sounded like the menu was normal. He’d been worried this guy Steven would expect something fancy that Luke would have to choke down with a name he couldn’t possibly pronounce.
“Jessie’s sleeping here with us,” Gena put in, seeing Luke looking at his daughter. “She’s been an angel all morning.”
“We can’t decide what to have for dessert,” Morgan went on absently.
“How about sawdust,” Luke growled under his breath as he headed for the bathroom. But he heard Gena suggest apple pie.
Chapter Five
“LUKE, can you bring out the steaks?” Morgan called from the wooden patio off the great room. As Luke grudgingly did as asked, he passed the long dining table, made up for company for the first time since he’d come to live with Morgan. Gena had even put reddened wild rose hips, late strawberries, and bright fall leaves in a vase in the center of the table. It did look nice, which didn’t seem to lighten Luke’s mood.
“Here,” he said, handing a big plate to Morgan, who was looking pleased as he fired up what looked like a space-age grill.
“This is the first time I’m cooking like a real country man,” Morgan said.
“Just be sure you don’t put a foot through the decking out here,” Luke said dourly. “I need to get around to replacing it; it’s falling apart.”
Morgan frowned. “Is something wrong?”
“Why would there be?” Luke raised his brows.
“Nothing… you just seem in a bad mood.”
“I’m not in a bad mood!”
“If you say so.”
“I just did.”
Morgan sighed. “Add stubborn to the cowboy thing.”
That made Luke smile a bit. Morgan had said he liked cowboys. “You have to be stubborn, considering all the times you rough it outdoors, get your foot stepped on by a cow or your horse, or wind up on your ass in the dirt.”
“You’re sure you’re not apprehensive about meeting Steven?” Morgan probed, sloshing whisky onto the steaks to marinate them. Despite his grumpiness, Luke was looking forward to dinner. He was damn hungry after cutting firewood and working on the barn.
“Why would I be?”
Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m trying to understand you. It’s strange the way we met in the mission and I just… knew I needed to help you. And it turned out we could help each other.” He looked at Luke, his blue eyes grave. “In just over a week, you’ve made my home much more comfortable. I like having Jessie here, and I like looking out the window and seeing you riding Sable.”
Luke’s stiff shoulders relaxed a little. “I like it too.”
“Do the guys you work with tease you about working for a gay man?”
Luke shook his head. “No, probably because Leif is….”
“Yes.” Morgan nodded. “I had kind of a crush on him, before he met his lover Mal.”
Luke ground his teeth. “Huh.”
There was a knock on the door so Luke gave Morgan a tight smile. “I’ll get it. By the way, what is Steven’s last name? You didn’t mention it.”
Now it was Morgan who looked a little apprehensive.
“Chalmers.”
“Right. Don’t let the steaks burn.”
LUKE liked being the one to open Morgan’s front door, as if this were really his home. He smiled at the sandy-haired man waiting, who had a bottle of something under his arm.
He was wearing glasses over serious gray eyes. His hair was pretty long, almost ponytail length, and he was slender, kind of nerdy looking.
And Luke realized he was looking at the other man in a new light, trying to see what made him attractive. Weird. He held the screen door open. “I’m Luke Walker,” he said.
Chalmers adjusted his glasses. “Yes, Morgan told me he’d hired someone to help around the homestead.”
“Uh-huh,” Luke said. “Morgan’s just getting the steaks started.”
Inside the kitchen, Steven handed Luke the bottle. It was white wine. Geez, who’d want to drink that? Luke always thought the stuff tasted like day-old piss. He didn’t mind red so much, but he was definitely a beer man.
“I hope you like white wine,” Steven said.
“I don’t,” Luke answered.
THE long handmade wooden table had an island of salad mixed by Gena, fresh-baked French bread, and a platter of steaks that Morgan proudly laid down. Jessie was sitting on the chair next to Luke, and that left Steven sitting next to Morgan.
He looked at Luke and Steven and wanted to sigh. Were he and Jessie the only ones having a good time?
Morgan also noticed that Luke was drinking fruit juice while he and Steven had white wine. Probably because he didn’t want to drink anything alcoholic when his daughter might need him, since Morgan did keep some beer in the fridge. For someone who had only recently become a father, he was a conscientious one.
“…There’s a scene in A Room with a View that I really enjoyed,” Steven was saying to Luke, obviously working to be friendly. Morgan couldn’t figure out what Luke’s problem was. He was speaking in monosyllables, li
ke a surly brat. So much for this evening making him more comfortable living here with Morgan.
“Is that in English?” Luke asked, taking a bite out of some of his French bread.
“Yes,” Steven said, laughing. “It literally is English.”
“Oh,” Luke said.
Morgan took a sip of his white wine when Steven raised his brows at him. Yep, his first Western dinner party was turning out really great.
IN THE kitchen, Morgan cornered him when Luke came in to warm some formula for Jessie. His head was thumping and he just wanted to head up to the loft. Morgan and Steven had started talking about cities they’d visited in Europe. Like Luke knew anything about Frankfurt or Paris.
“Why are you being such a jerk to Steven?” Morgan demanded, closing the door softly between the kitchen and dining room so they wouldn’t be overheard.
“I’m….” But Luke couldn’t deny it. He’d barely said two words. No wonder the other two men had started ignoring him. “I don’t know, all right?”
“Something’s wrong. Tell me what it is,” Morgan pressed.
Shit, he looked worried, which raised Luke’s frustration a notch. “Nothing is wrong. I just have a headache and I’m hoping Jessie will let me sleep it off.” And that sounded pissy even to his own ears. Crap.
“I thought this evening would make you more comfortable.”
“I’m not,” Luke said. “Are you going home with him?” He put his palm flat against the log wall next to Morgan’s head.
Morgan’s blue eyes widened.
“Excuse me?” Morgan glared at Luke.
“Just answer the question,” Luke said. This was closer than he’d ever stood to Morgan. He had freckles the same color as his silky brown hair, which was usually in his blue eyes. And there were flecks of gray and green in with the blue of those eyes. Luke had never noticed that before.
“I wouldn’t stay here and….”
“I know that.” Luke’s irritation softened. “I know you wouldn’t play around with him while me and Jess are here in the house with you.”
“Luke…?” Morgan obviously still wanted to know what was wrong.
