Cabin Fever: A M/M Western Romance

by Emilia Loft

  “What if the flood surges again?” He asked. “Surely this is too dangerous!”

  “The family needs to get to safety. Huntley’s in the flood plains. If it’s flooding here, the town could be underwater by tomorrow.”

  Ian bit his lip and nodded. “Please be careful.”

  John caught Ian’s eye and nodded. “I will. I promise.”

  He draped his coat and hat over Azure’s saddle. Thinking, he also removed his vest and pocket watch. Divested of unnecessary weight, he began the slow process of crossing the river. The water battered at his legs and swirled around his waist and then his chest as he reached the deepest part. He had to stop several times to regain his balance and wait for a surge of water to roll over him, soaking him to the bone. The trip across the river seemed endless, but he finally reached the other side.

  “The flood took out our pasture.” Sarah’s brother-in-law said before John could greet them. “It was threatening to flood the cabin before I sent Gordy out on the horse.”

  “How’s your wife? Is she in labor?” John nodded to the uncomfortable looking woman in the wagon.

  “Not yet. She’s close, but not yet. I think she twisted her ankle trying to get in the wagon, though.”

  “All right, this is what I want to do.” John said. “I’m going to tie the rope around you, just like I’ve got it around me. You need to help your wife to cross the river. I’ll follow with one of the children. I’ll come back and get the others until we’re all over on the other side. Can you do that?”

  The man nodded. “I think so, yes.”

  John secured the rope around the man and he helped his wife from the wagon. She cried out when she put weight on her foot, so her husband took most of her weight in his arms. John collected the youngest child - a girl with red braids - and they began the trip back across the river. Each time they had to stop to weather the surges, he pressed the child’s face to his shoulder to keep her from swallowing the entire Yosemite river.

  John had never been more grateful to touch solid ground as they reached the river’s edge. Ian rushed to take the girl from John and help him out of the water. John squeezed the excess from his clothes and then moved to head back.

  “At least catch your breath, John!” Ian snapped. “You’ll be no good if you’re worn out.”

  “I’ve got to get back over.” John said. “I’ll catch my breath when I’m done.”

  Two more trips back and forth across the river left John winded and feeling weak, but he steadfastly headed back to get the last child, a boy with a shock of brown curls and his father’s serious face. He bade the child to hold tightly to him and began crossing once more. He reached the other side and lifted the boy to his father’s arms. Ian moved to grab John’s hand when a wave of water hit him, sweeping his feet out from under him and sending him down the river. John cried out and was rewarded with a mouthful of river water. He coughed and sputtered, trying to get his head above water. The current swept him away from the edge and tumbled him against the rocks at the bottom.

  Then John’s shoulder exploded in pain as it caught on a branch sticking up from the water. John screamed at the pain, but instinct had him clinging to the branch as the water buffeted against him.

  “John!” Ian’s voice carried to him, edged in panic. “John, try to stay there! One of Mikael’s men will get you!”

  John tightened his grip on the branch and managed to get his feet under him, planting them in the silt at the bottom of the river. His shoulder burned, but he ignored it in favor of survival. A ranch hand he didn’t know edged slowly into the river, a rope secured around his middle. It seemed to take forever, but he finally reached John and pulled him out of the water. He half-stumbled and was half-dragged out of the river, coughing up mouthfuls of water and trying not to pass out from the pain in his shoulder. Ian helped him to his feet once he was out of the water.

  “I said you should have rested!” Ian’s reprimand came out in a sob. “You could have died!”

  “I didn’t, though.” John said, trying to smile but managing only a grimace as his shoulder sent another stab of pain up his neck.

  “You’ve hurt yourself.” Ian said accusingly, his eyes moving to the shoulder. “I can tell by the way you’re holding it.”

  “It’ll keep until we’ve got everyone safe.” John said. He leaned close and clapped Ian on the shoulder. “Thank you, Ian. For looking out for me. I’ll be fine.”

  If they hadn’t been in front of a crowd of people, John might have tried to kiss Ian’s frown away. At the very least, he would have wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes with his thumb. Stop. He commanded himself.

  He turned back to look at the wet, bedraggled band of children and adults. “There’s still the wagon to worry about.”

  Sarah’s brother-in-law stepped forward. “The wagon’s our old spare. I didn’t want to risk taking my good one out in this. If we can just get the horses, the wagon can stay until the weather clears.”

  “You’re sure?” John asked and the man nodded. “All right. I can’t go across, I’m afraid. This shoulder’s paining me pretty good. Are any of you up for it?”

  Mikael’s men conferred with each other and chose the strongest of the group to cross. Sarah’s brother-in-law took his place at holding the rope while he forded the river one last time to lead the two horses across. By some great miracle, the surging water calmed a little so that the return trip went off smoothly. Once the horses were across, John took to assigning people to horses. Each of the ranch hands took one of the children. Sarah’s brother-in-law and another child rode on one of their horse’s, and Sarah’s sister had a horse to herself. John let Ian help him mount Azure and then Ian climbed clumsily on himself. He batted John’s hands away from the reins and took them up in his own.

  “Just tell me what to do.” Ian breathed. “And rest your shoulder.”

  John nodded and wrapped his arms around Ian’s waist. He stiffened at John’s intimacy, but relaxed soon enough.

  “Give it a little tug and click your tongue.” John said. “Then nudge her a bit with your heels.”

  They had to move slower on the return trip owing to John’s injuries and Sarah’s sister’s condition. But an hour later they found themselves back at the Lofte ranch just as the last of the sun was setting behind the western mountains. Sarah ran out of the ranch house, crying in relief when she saw her sister.

  “Mariah!” She cried, helping the pregnant woman from her horse.

  “Is Gordy all right?” Mariah asked, hugging Sarah tightly as she tried to balance on one foot. “Please tell me he’s all right.”

  “He’s fine, he’s back at home with Pa. Oh, your ankle! We’ll get a doctor to look at that.”

  The next half hour was a chaos of people coming and going as they arranged transport for Sarah and her family to go home. A doctor was summoned to the ranch to look at Mariah’s ankle, which was pronounced sprained, but not severely. John’s shoulder was also examined, despite his protests.

  “You’ve wrenched it good.” Doc Miller said, probing at the tender joint. “Nothing to be done but rest. Use liniment on it and don’t keep it so still that it locks up. It’ll be better in a few days.”

  “I can’t be away from the job that long….” John started to say, but was cut off by Mikael.

  “Patrols can hold off for a few days, Sheriff Jameson. You can rest up in your office, if it makes you feel better. And if there’s any emergencies, you may direct them to me.”

  “But the flooding may continue and there’s damage to repair….”

  Again, John was cut off by Mikael’s assurances. “I’ve sent word to Coulson that we’ll need assistance in Huntley and the surrounding areas. This isn’t a job for one man, Sheriff.”

  John gave in, realizing that Mikael was right. “All right. I’ll just… head home, then.”

  Mikael turned to Ian. “I believe this weather is enough to close the school for a few days, is it not?”

/>   Ian nodded. “Most of my students won’t be able to get to the schoolhouse in these conditions.”

  “Then I think you should make sure Sheriff Jameson gets home safely and stay there to help him with anything while he recovers. Is that all right with you, Sheriff?”

  John felt his throat grow dry. Inside, he was leaping up and down in excitement. He glanced nervously at Ian, whose face had grown pink.

  “I, uh, don’t have accommodations for him, Mayor Lofte.”

  “My brother is perfectly capable of sleeping in a seated position. If I recall, that cabin is equipped with a rocking chair? I can send someone over with extra blankets, if need be. Talk to my housekeeper before you go.”

  They did just that, arranging for blankets and some of Ian’s things to be brought to the cabin.

  Then Ian followed John outside, his face awash in worry.

  “I’m sorry, John. I didn’t know he’d ask me… if you’re not comfortable with this, I can argue it with him.”

  “Oh, no!” John, taken aback, tried to reassure Ian. “It’s fine, I promise. Unless you’re uncomfortable with it…?”

  “No, I’d like to see that you’re well.” Ian replied shyly.

  “Then we’re good?”

  “Yes, I suppose we are.” Ian smiled. “Shall we ride together, or do you want me to walk alongside?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, we might as well ride together. I’ll give Azure extra food to make up for all the work she’s put in today.”

  They rode front to back just as they had earlier, Ian again taking the reins.

  “You’re a natural at this. Why don’t you ride?” John asked curiously. The rain had finally stopped, so the ride to John’s cabin was dry, at least, even if they were both still soaked through.

  “My brother has always felt I am too delicate to ride.” Ian said ruefully. “He fears I will fall and hurt myself.”

  “Your brother doesn’t seem to have much confidence in you.” John grumbled.

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  “He should. You’re brilliant. And you’re obviously good in an emergency.”

  “I almost fell to pieces today when the river took you away.” Ian said, his voice wavering.

  “But you didn’t. You helped with the children and you knew to listen to my instructions. Mikael would do well to get to know the real you.”

  “Do you think you know the real me?” Ian asked.

  John shifted so that his hands rested at Ian’s waist. “I know I do.”

  Ian shivered and leaned back against John. They stayed silent for the rest of the short ride.

  John allowed Ian to help him dismount.

  “Will you take her to the barn, see that she’s dried off and fed? I’ll bring some sugar cubes out for a treat.” John asked.

  “Only if you’ll go in and get out of those wet clothes.” Ian said. “I’ll help you with the liniment when I finish.”

  John, too tired to argue over anything, nodded and limped towards the cabin. He stripped his soaked clothes off and wrapped one of his blankets around himself. Feeling his bones ache with exhaustion, he sat on the bed and fought to keep his eyes open. The battle was lost; John leaned gingerly against the bedpost and let sleep overtake him.

  A short while later, John jerked awake to hear Ian talking to someone outside - one of Mikael’s ranch hands had brought the blankets and Ian’s things. Ian came into the cabin carrying the stack of linens and a small bag with his things.

  “You’re awake.” He said. “I didn’t want to disturb you. How does a hot bath sound?”

  It was then that John noticed the horse trough standing in the middle of the cabin. Ian must have dragged it in from the barn and it already steamed - half full with boiling water.

  “It sounds… heavenly.” John slurred, still trying to think through the fog of sleep. “But it’s so much work.”

  “It will help that shoulder loosen up.” Ian said, obviously using his stern teacher’s voice. “The water’s almost ready.”

  John watched Ian pour more boiling water in, along with several buckets of cold water to take it down to a temperature that wouldn’t scald him. He withdrew a toiletry case from his bag and added a splash of fragrant bath oil that reminded John of Ian’s own clean scent.

  “In you get.” Ian commanded, turning around so John could climb in with a modicum of privacy.

  John dropped the blanket and slid into the bath, groaning as the warm water worked at loosening his stiff limbs. “Oh, God… that feels good.”

  Ian turned the rocking chair around so he could sit without watching John. He passed John some soap and a flannel. “If you need me to help with anything, just let me know.”

  John was able to wash most of himself with his uninjured arm, but found it impossible to get his hair clean. “Erm… Ian? I’m having problems washing my hair.”

  Ian got up and came to the tub’s edge. His face was carefully arranged in a neutral expression as he kept his eyes away from John’s body as much as possible. He took the soap and lathered his hand, massaging it into John’s head with gentle fingers. John closed his eyes, the feeling of Ian’s hands sending jolts of electricity straight to his groin. He tried to think of something, anything, but the way Ian’s hands felt and what they might feel like on… other parts of his body.

  Ian retrieved the tin cup John used at his wash basin and carefully rinsed the soap from his hair, making sure to keep the suds from running into John’s eyes.

  “Ian?” John croaked, his voice coming out a little high-pitched and strangled. “Yes?”

  “Think you could help me get rid of this?” John pointed to his beard. “I haven’t been able to shave all week because of my shoulder. I don’t know how long I can stand it on my face.”

  “Don’t all rough and tough cowboys have a beard?” Ian teased.

  John pulled a face. “I’ll trade rough and tough for not itching all the time.”

  Ian laughed. “It’s true, I prefer you clean shaven, anyway. Where’s your shaving kit?”

  John pointed out the kit and Ian retrieved it and lathered John’s face with shaving cream. John tilted his head back to give Ian an easy angle. Using the straight razor, Ian drew it carefully across John’s face, rinsing in between swipes. When he was done, he helped John rinse the remains of the lather to reveal his face, now smooth and free of whiskers.

  “You look like yourself again.” Ian smiled, drying off the razor and putting it back in the kit. “I feel closer to myself, too.” John said, returning the smile. “Mind turning around while I get out?”

  Ian obliged and John clambered out of the tub, using the blanket he’d wrapped himself in to dry himself off. He rummaged in his chest of clothing and withdrew the long underwear in which he slept. He pulled those on with only a little struggle when it came to putting his injured arm in the sleeve.

  “Can I help?” Ian said, half turning.

  “I’ve got it.” John grunted, screwing up his face as a jolt of pain hit him.

  “Here.” Ian turned around and grabbed the liniment John kept by the side of his bed. “We need to put some of this on.”

  John gave up and sat on the bed, letting Ian perch next to him. He scooped out some of the liniment and gently massaged it into John’s shoulder. John gasped when Ian hit the sorest spot and Ian paused.

  “It’s fine.” John groaned. “Keep going.”

  The longer Ian massaged, the less John felt the pain. Soon he was able to put his arm through the sleeve of the underwear and finish buttoning it up. Ian helped him into bed, extinguished the lantern that illuminated the cabin, and then went to the rocker where he wrapped a blanket around himself and curled up, his feet drawn up to his chin.

  “I feel guilty making you sleep over there.” John said into the darkness.

  “I’ll survive.” The smile could be heard in Ian’s voice.

  “Ian?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Thank you. For everything.”


  “I simply did what was necessary.”

  “I think we both know that’s not the whole of it.”

  The silence stretched and then Ian spoke again. “You’re welcome, John.”

  John listened to Ian’s breaths grow even and deep before he, too, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

  7

  Chapter 7: Pretty Saro

  This time John’s nightmare placed him back in the hospital, surrounded by his fellow soldiers. The air was rife with moans and screaming and his nose filled with the smell of rotting flesh. John blinked his eyes open and saw a doctor hovering over him.

  “I’m sorry, we’re going to have to take the arm.” The doctor said, brandishing a bone saw.

  “N-no… no!” John felt himself going under just as the saw touched his skin, causing the pain in his shoulder to bloom.

  “John? John!”

  John jerked awake and grimaced, his shoulder stiff and sore. Ian stood over him, a look of concern on his face.

  “Are you all right?” Ian asked.

  John had obviously interrupted him while he dressed. He wore black breeches, black riding boots, and a white shirt that was only half-fastened. Suspenders hung at his side.

  “You were moaning for a while.” Ian still watched John with concern. “I was about to wake you when you cried out.”

  “I’m fine.” John insisted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. “How is your shoulder this morning?”

  John swung his arm to prove he felt better and his knees almost went out from under him at the jolt of pain that went down his arm. Ian moved to grab him by his good arm, steadying him. John sat back on the edge of the bed and waited for the pain to pass.

  “It’s a little stiff.” John grunted. He glanced up and caught Ian’s eyes, twinkling with humor.

  “Only a little stiff, eh?” Ian said, turning away and fastening the rest of his shirt. “Well, then, I may as well send you out to clean your barn.”