Heart of Stone

by Ari McKay

  He’d tried to deny it, telling himself Luke was trying to get a rise out of him; just because Luke had admitted he preferred male company didn’t necessarily mean he was looking at Stone that way. Nor did Stone want him to. Some things were dangerous and best left alone, and Stone had long ago learned he could ignore his physical needs if he tried hard enough. And damn, he’d been trying hard ever since that day in the stable when Luke had turned around and looked at him like he’d wanted to devour Stone whole right then and there.

  That look had told Stone he’d been fooling himself. Luke wanted him, and he’d felt his own desire rising to meet Luke’s with sudden, almost overwhelming power. No one had ever made him feel like he could lose control and not care about the consequences. Not even Daniel, the first man he’d been with.

  He hadn’t thought about Daniel in almost a decade, and he didn’t want to think about him now, but it seemed inevitable that his desire for Luke would stir up those long-denied memories. Daniel had been nearly thirty, and Stone had been only eighteen and vulnerable after the death of his mother. Daniel was the owner of a saloon in Moapa, and he’d rented an upstairs room to Stone and his mother during the last year of her life. Daniel had been kind, and somehow after the funeral, Stone had ended up drunk and miserable at the door to Daniel’s room, which had been right down the hall from his. He couldn’t bear to sleep in that room and not hear the quiet sound of his mother breathing, and Daniel had opened his door, letting Stone in without question and then taking him to bed and showing him life went on. He’d not even minded when Stone had wept for his mother afterward.

  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, 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. Stone had bought Raider, turned eastward, and never looked back.

  He 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 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 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 his home, 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 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 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 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 were 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. He didn’t really need to say much; the hands could feel the wind, and flakes of snow blew into the room.

  “Are all the cattle 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 whiteout, 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 hurrying 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, tacking up Raider as quickly as he could, and he tied extra blankets to the back of the saddle. Then he mounted and spurred Raider into a gallop, praying he wasn’t too late as he rode 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 it was because he came from a long line of trackers whose survival depended on being able to get where they needed to go, no matter what. The ability had always been a part of him, and he hoped it didn’t fail him now as the world blurred 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 th
e wind. He altered course toward it, and to his relief, he recognized Mist, her head bent as she pushed through the deepening drifts. 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 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 he and Mist were 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 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 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 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 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.”

  For a moment, it seemed as if Luke had nodded off, but when Stone jostled him a little, he began to talk, rambling from one thing to another, beginning with his first day working for Priss and moving on to tell Stone about how he was there when Mist was born. By the time they made it back to the barn, Stone knew more about Luke than he’d ever thought to know about a single person, but at least he’d kept Luke from falling asleep.

  The barn door opened a crack as they rode up, and then it was pushed wide enough for him to ride inside. A couple of the hands were within, tending to the horses they had rounded up from the field.

  “Was hopin’ you’d make it back, boss.” Shorty grinned up at him as he untied Mist’s reins. “Luke okay?”

  “He’s been better,” Stone replied. A couple of men helped get Luke out of the saddle, and then Stone dismounted. “Can you take care of the horses? I need to get him into the house and warmed up.”

  “I’m okay.” Luke batted away the men who were helping him stay upright, but when he tried to walk and nearly fell flat on his face, he didn’t protest a second time. “’Cept for not bein’ able to feel my feet,” he added, sounding sheepish.

  Shorty shook his head. “When you do start feelin’ them, you’ll wish you couldn’t. Go on, boss. We’ll take care of this. You need any help gettin’ him to the house?”

  “No, I can manage. Thanks.” Stone lifted Luke’s arm across his shoulders and slid his arm around Luke’s waist. “You’ll be home in no time, cowboy. Just hang in there a few minutes longer, okay?”

  True to his word, he got Luke into the house, sighing with relief as the door slammed closed behind them and the warmth of the kitchen blocked out the wind. He lowered Luke carefully into a chair. Luke was a lot paler than Stone would have liked, and he knew he had to get Luke warmed up quickly.

  “I need to get your shoes and gloves off and have a look, all right?”

  Luke slumped in the chair, still seeming drowsy, but he wasn’t so out of it he couldn’t muster up a cheeky response. “You can take off whatever you want, boss. I don’t mind you lookin’.”

  “I’ll look, all right. You just better hope I like what I see.”

  He got Luke’s boots and socks off, and then leaned in to peer closely at Luke’s toes. They were pale and cold, and Stone removed his gloves and gently touched them, pleased he couldn’t see any damage. Then he did the same thing with Luke’s hands, finally sighing with relief as he pressed Luke’s cold fingers gently between his palms to warm them. “Looks like we won’t be callin’ you Stumpy, after all. But I need to get you upstairs and out of those wet clothes. You aren’t going to want to be on those feet when the feelin’ comes back.”

  Ten minutes later, he had Luke upstairs, undressed, and tucked between the covers of his bed. He went downstairs and rummaged in the cabinet until he found a bottle of whiskey. With a little help from a bleary Luke, he managed to get a good amount of whiskey down Luke’s throat. He hoped it would help blur the awful, stinging sensation once feeling started coming back to Luke’s numb feet.

  Each ranch bedroom had a fireplace, and before long, it was almost too warm. Stone looked closely at Luke, but he seemed to have gone to sleep, and so he shrugged out of his coat, took off his boots, and sat down in the chair by Luke’s bed. Stone closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, and then he started to tremble as his emotions kicked in now that Luke was safe.

  Luke had come within minutes of losing his fingers and toes and within maybe a half hour of dying, and it was all because of him. This wouldn’t have happened if Stone had been out there with Luke and doing his part. He’d let his fear stand in the way of doing his duty, and Luke had nearly paid a terrible price because of it.

  Guilt made Stone want to cringe with shame. Luke was probably going to be angry at him for what had happened, but he couldn’t be any angrier than Stone was at himself. It didn’t matter that Luke was the foreman and was just doing his job. Stone was the boss, and that made him responsible for everyone, even Luke. Perhaps especially Luke.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured, opening his eyes and looking at Luke’s face, relieved to see his cheeks beginning to lose their pallor. Luke didn’t move, and Stone reached out and rested his hand against Luke’s cheek. I’m just checking that he’s warming up, he told himself, though he knew it was a lie. He’d been lying to himself a lot lately, it seemed, about a lot of things, and it made him hurt in a way he’d not felt in a long time.

  Luke moved, and Stone snatched his hand back, not wanting Luke to catch him in a moment of weakness. Then his eyes fell on the whiskey bottle, and he shivered. He was cold, too, and not just from the weather. One sip couldn’t hurt, right? He was at home, and Luke was sleeping. Just a little sip of whiskey to help dull his pain.

  He picked up the bottle, sloshing the liquor into the same glass he’d used for Luke, and then he tilted his head back and downed the alcohol before he could think better of it. It burned all the way down his throat, but it felt good, too. It warmed him, and soon enough, it would blunt the edges of his guilt and help him get through this night so he could face whatever happened tomorrow.

  Would Luke be angry enough to leave? Stone stared into the glass and shivered again. He didn’t want Luke to leave. He couldn’t do anything about the attraction that seemed to be pulling them together, and he didn’t want Luke out of his life. But if Luke wanted to leave, what could Stone do to stop him? And Luke had a right to be angry, whether he realized it or not. He poured more whiskey; he wasn’t numb enough yet. The second glass burne
d less, and warmed him more.

  “That’s all,” he said, putting the glass on the table. He looked at Luke again and shifted the chair closer to the bed. He needed to close his eyes for a few minutes, but he wanted to make sure he would hear if Luke woke up. So he lay his head down on the mattress by Luke’s shoulder, and as the guilt was dulled by the alcohol, Stone drifted off to sleep.

  9

  THE feeling of someone stroking his hair roused Stone, and in the twilight state between sleeping and waking, he thought it was his mother, soothing him once more as she had so many times when he was a boy. But then he woke enough to remember she was gone, and he lifted his head to find Luke watching him with what seemed to be affection, not the expected anger and recrimination.

  “You could’ve gotten in here with me,” Luke drawled, the teasing gleam appearing in his eyes. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

  Stone relaxed, his worries about everything seeming to fade before the warmth in Luke’s eyes. “Yeah?” He gave Luke a lazy smile. Why had he fought the attraction between them? He couldn’t remember, and he really didn’t care. “And what would you do if I did?”

  Luke’s smile took on a decidedly wicked tilt. “Whatever I could get away with.”

  “That sounds like it could be interestin’.” Luke was irresistible when he smiled like that, and Stone licked his lips, wondering how that smile would taste. “What would you do first?”

  Luke was silent for a moment, a questioning look in his eyes. “You really want to know?”

  “Yeah.” Stone sat up and stared at Luke challengingly. “What would you do with me, cowboy? If I said you could do anythin’ you wanted.”

  “Oh, that’s easy.” Luke’s voice was low and husky, and Stone saw a heated gleam in his eyes. “I’d want to kiss you first. I’ve been dyin’ to know if you taste as good as you look.”