Cabin Fever: A M/M Western Romance

by Emilia Loft

  The cook fed them a quick dinner before dark and then John headed out to the corrals to wait. He didn’t look forward to the long night ahead, having only his rifle for company.

  Predictably, the hours crawled by at a snail’s pace. John found his mind wandering and he made a conscious effort to focus on the task at hand.

  The moon took its time traveling across the night sky as John fought to keep his eyes open. As he stared into darkness, waiting for any disturbance, his mind turned to Ian.

  He pictured Ian, standing in his cabin, his smooth skin highlighted by the sunlight filtering through the window. His hair shone as the beams caught it, and his face was cast in a landscape of shadow and light. John wanted to press his body against Ian and remove his clothes, piece by piece, mapping Ian’s body with his lips. John had never felt this intensely for another human being, not even for James. Ian awakened a hunger in him that he couldn’t satisfy.

  This is how he passed the night, thinking of Ian while trying to remain awake. As dawn colored the sky, John realized there would be no attempt by Moran and stood. Frank and Percy blinked tiredly from their positions and John waved them over.

  “Sorry,” John said, pulling an apologetic face. “We’re going to have to do this until we catch someone.”

  Frank and Percy grumbled halfheartedly, but nodded. John sent them back to the ranch house to get some rest . He briefly considered stopping by the schoolhouse to bid Ian good morning, but his exhaustion won out and he turned, instead, to his cabin for a few hours of sleep before setting up for another night of surveillance.

  * * *

  The second night went much as the first, as did the third. By the time morning dawned after the fourth night of no activity, John felt ready to give up. He was exhausted from his disrupted sleep schedule; he couldn’t remember when he last ate and he’d only seen Ian in passing. He trudged back to the ranch house with Frank and Percy to give his report to Mikael.

  “No activity, again?” Mikael arched an eyebrow in response to John’s report.

  John shook his head. “How would you like me to proceed, sir?”

  Mikael stayed silent for a long moment of contemplation before answering. “Do you feel up to one more night of surveillance?”

  He didn’t, but John couldn’t let Mikael know that. “Of course.”

  “Give it one more night. If there’s no activity still, we’ll begin forming a new plan.”

  John nodded and tipped his hat. “I’ll be back this evening, then.”

  * * *

  Mikael must have sensed their exhaustion, because when John arrived for the night’s last patrol, he found the dining room laid out with a proper dinner.

  “I thought you all could use some bolstering up.” Mikael said, smiling.

  Frank and Percy were already tucking in to baked ham and cornbread, so John pulled up a chair and gratefully dug in. Ian sat at his normal spot and John caught his eye and winked. As he’d hoped, Ian’s cheeks flushed pink and he hid a smile behind his napkin.

  A full stomach made the night’s surveillance seem not as daunting. John settled himself in his hiding spot and prepared for another night of waiting. A cool breeze blew through, ruffling his hair beneath his hat. Off in the distance, he heard a coyote yawp to its mate. The normal sounds of nighttime acted as a lullaby and John felt his eyes close. He blinked them open, only to close them again. Each blink took longer and longer for him to open his eyes. In his mind, Ian waited for him, hand outstretched. John sunk deeper towards unconsciousness, his head dipping forward and his hat falling low over his eyes.

  * * *

  The crack of a twig startled him awake and John stiffened, his eyes flying open. It was pitch dark, the slim sliver of a new moon the only light source. Another crack sounded and then John heard harsh whispers.

  “There she is!”

  “Give me the knife. Seb, you take the rope.”

  “Why I gotta take the rope? You always do the cuttin’!”

  “Shut up and do what I say!”

  John peeked around the corner of his hiding spot and the dim light of the moon caught the silver edge of a knife as Sebastian Moran’s brother took it and held it against the neck of a terrified cow.

  “You’d best drop the knife, if you know what’s good for you.”

  John stepped from behind his hiding spot, rifle raised to his shoulder. He saw Frank and Percy emerge from their own spots, rubbing sleep from their eyes and trying to look intimidating.

  Sebastian Moran whirled around and glared at John. His brother turned, slower, a smile spreading across his face. He raised two fingers to his lips and let out an ear-piercing whistle that caused the cows nearby to break into a run across the corral.

  John felt the crack of something against the back of his head and he pitched forward. He cried out as the heel of a boot ground against his fingers before leaving him floundering on the ground. Frank and Percy’s yells could barely be heard over the pounding cattle hooves. John struggled to sit up. His fingers throbbed and he felt wetness at the back of his head. He squinted, trying to find sense in the chaos in front of him. Sebastian’s brother whistled sharply again and two horses trotted from behind the tree where they’d been hidden. It all happened so quickly, amidst the chaos of cattle and Frank and Percy’s struggles to get through the fray. Sebastian swung himself up on one of the horses and pulled his wife - for it was she who’d struck John from behind - up beside him. His brother mounted the other and they took off in a cloud of dust. Frank and Percy aimed rifles and shot at them, but the shots went wild and only agitated the cattle more.

  It took more than an hour to get the cattle settled down. By the time they returned to the ranch house, all the lights were blazing and Doc Miller waited to take a look at John’s head wound.

  “The head always bleeds like a stuck pig,” Miller said, peering at the back of John’s head. “This isn’t too deep, but I’m sure it hurt like the devil.”

  “I’ll be fine.” John snapped, but stayed still while Miller cleaned the wound and checked his fingers for any breaks.

  “That didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.” Mikael observed from the doorway.

  “I didn’t expect the wife to be with them,” John said. “My mistake. I’ll ride out to their homestead and see if that’s where they fled.”

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Mikael snapped. “Sheriff Jameson, you’re exhausted and injured. Pushing yourself will do you no good. Go home, get some sleep. I already sent two of my men to check the Moran homestead - abandoned. No sign of children or adults. I doubt that will soon change.”

  John’s shoulders sagged in defeat and he nodded. “I suppose… well, I guess I’d be more likely to catch them if I was at my best.”

  “Indeed. I’ll assign some of my men to patrol the corrals at night from now on, until we solve this.”

  John nodded. “Very well. If you need anything, I’ll plan to be in the office tomorrow.”

  Head throbbing, fingers aching, and feeling thoroughly defeated, John returned to his cabin to sleep for the rest of the night. He would tackle the Moran problem head on when he felt fresher.

  * * *

  The result of focusing so much time on the Lofte ranch and apprehending the Morans meant that things had fallen behind at the sheriff’s office. John arrived in the late morning, his head still aching dully, to put a dent in reports and return to his regular patrol. Shortly thereafter, a note arrived from Mikael, requesting a meeting after he’d finished patrols.

  John worked through the morning before putting aside his reports and getting up to stretch his stiff limbs. He went outside where he’d tied Azure and climbed up in her saddle.

  “Let’s go, girl,” John clicked his tongue. “Time to get back to routine.”

  As he rode through Lockwood, he tipped his hat to several groups of townspeople. A cluster of young women looked at him steadily and then turned away, giggling. A man and his wife stared straight ahead, ignoring his gre
eting. John’s brow furrowed in confusion as he rode past them.

  Drawing close to the general store, he caught sight of Sarah standing in the doorway. He lifted his hand in a wave, but she only lifted her chin haughtily and swept back inside. John felt worry gnaw in the pit of his stomach, but there wasn’t anything he could do at the moment. He continued towards the outskirts of town to finish the rest of his patrol.

  * * *

  His patrol didn’t go as smoothly as John hoped. He’d stopped to help one of the local farmers with a horse that wouldn’t budge, only to find his offer rebuffed.

  “Nah, I’ll be fine.” The farmer waved John off. “You go on about your day, Sheriff.”

  John protested, but met stony silence. No one he encountered during his patrol offered so much as a friendly smile and when he finally finished, he was starting to feel like the bad penny no one wanted turning up. He rode to the Lofte ranch, where Mikael waited in his study.

  “Sir,” John took off his hat and nodded a greeting.

  “Sheriff Jameson. How’s the head?”

  “Sore, but I’ll be fine.”

  “Good, good.” Mikael leaned back in his chair. “And your patrol today? Everything fine after your absence?”

  “Er…. yes….” John said, hesitantly. “The townspeople seem a little… unfriendly… towards me. But

  there were no problems.”

  “Ah, I’ve heard a few rumors flying.” Mikael’s hawk-like gaze pinned John to where he stood. “I’m sure you know what those rumors might address?”

  John felt his heart sink to his boots. “Oh.”

  “Nothing more than the idle gossip of idle minds, of course.”

  “O-of course.”

  “Good.” Mikael glanced behind John. “Ah, Ian, you’re home.”

  Ian edged into the study, his face drawn into a pout. “What’s this about idle gossip?”

  “Nothing more than a few rumors floating around about our dear Sheriff, here.” Mikael said. “But John’s assured me there’s no reason the gossip will ever be more than just that. I’m sure the townspeople will soon forget those rumors.”

  John glanced nervously between the two brothers and cleared his throat. “Could we address the Moran trouble, sir? How would you like me to proceed on that?”

  Ian moved to peruse Mikael’s bookshelves. Mikael watched him with narrowed eyes and then focused back to John.

  “I fear we may have lost our chance, don’t you?”

  “I’m not sure I think they’d turn tail and run so quickly.”

  “Perhaps. But there’s no sign of them at their homestead.”

  “So we wait? Bide our time?”

  “I think the men I have on duty at night will suffice in scaring them away.”

  John wasn’t sure he agreed with Mikael, but he nodded. “Very well, then. Is there anything else?”

  “Yes, actually. Since my brother’s here, I’ll share the good news with you both.”

  Ian turned, suspicion darkening his features. “What good news?”

  “I’ve just had a telegram,” Mikael waved a slip of paper over his head. “From Mrs. Caroline Hooper. She and Molly are arriving in Lockwood earlier than planned.”

  The color drained from Ian’s face completely and his back stiffened. “Molly… here? So soon?”

  “Her mother seems to think everything is in place for the wedding.” Mikael turned to beam a too-bright smile at John. “We’ll have a happy occasion to celebrate within a month’s time, I should think.”

  Ian turned to John, his face ghostly. “Y-you know? About Molly?”

  John, his stomach roiling and his head aching sharper than it had all day, nodded imperceptibly. “I suppose congratulations are in order… S-Ian.”

  John barely managed to choke the words out. He wanted to die, right there, on the spot. Mikael looked between them, his grin taking on a malicious edge.

  “John….” Ian murmured, taking one step towards him.

  John shook his head and swallowed hard. “If there’s nothing else, Mayor Lofte, I’ll be off now?”

  “Nothing of importance. Have a good evening, Sheriff Jameson.”

  John took one last look at Ian, who looked as though he’d been slapped. “Good evening to both of you.”

  He turned sharply and left, practically breaking into a run once he cleared the office.

  * * *

  Ian turned slowly to face his brother. His blood felt like molten iron pumping through his veins. “What the devil was that?”

  Mikael’s calm exterior didn’t break. “Simply letting the Sheriff know his place.”

  “His place?!” Ian sputtered. “Who are you to dictate his place?”

  “I’m the Mayor,” Mikael snapped. “And your brother. I have responsibilities to uphold.”

  “Hang your responsibilities, Mikael!”

  “I’ll caution you to keep a civil tongue, Ian.” Mikael stood up and walked around his desk until he was nose to nose with Ian. “I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of what happens to men with… proclivities… such as your own and Sheriff Jameson’s.”

  Ian’s face turned red and he swiped at his eyes, which threatened to overflow. “It’s none of their damn business!”

  “I think you’ll find most people disagree with that.” Mikael’s voice softened. “Really, Ian. Is it such a bad life I’m trying to provide?”

  Ian’s chest heaved as he stared his brother down. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “No matter what you do, you’ll never change me.”

  Mikael sighed and stepped away. “Regardless, Miss Hooper will arrive with the next train. I expect you to do your duties, as I do my own.”

  Hatred bubbled up the back of Ian’s throat and his fingers itched to wrap around Mikael’s neck and wring the calm superiority from him. Instead, he turned and stormed out of the office. As he left, Mikael’s voice followed him.

  “If you leave the ranch tonight, I’ll know.”

  “Ask me if I give a damn,” Ian muttered, stalking towards the front door.

  Gregory, Mikael’s right-hand man, stepped from the shadows and put himself between Ian and the front door. “You’re not to leave tonight, Master Lofte.”

  Ian glanced away, squaring his shoulders, and when he turned back, he head-butted Gregory square in the face and kneed him in the groin. Gregory doubled over in shock and pain and Ian shoved him aside, pushing through the front door.

  He took off at a sprint as he heard Mikael and Gregory yelling behind him. Rather than taking the most direct route to John’s cabin, he cut around the back of the ranch house and through a swath of trees. He could hear Gregory thundering in the wrong direction and he allowed a small smile to quirk at his lips. But he would have to hurry - they would know where he’d go and he had to reach John first.

  John, he thought, feeling desperation rise in his chest. Will you believe me, when I tell you the truth?

  Aiming himself towards John’s cabin, he ran through the brush, taking a shortcut that should have him there before Gregory reached John’s cabin. And it would have worked, if he’d seen the rope stretched across his path. Instead, his toe caught the rope and he went flying, landing in the dirt so hard his breath whooshed out in one, great gasp. Ian groaned and turned on his back, squinting up at the tall figure that emerged from the trees.

  “Well, well,” Sebastian Moran said, grinning. “What have we here?”

  “Looks to me like the Mayor’s baby brother.” Sebastian’s brother stepped out from the opposite side of the path. “All on his own.”

  Sebastian’s wife, Mary, came out of the trees right by Ian and grabbed at his arm, her nails digging into his skin until he cried out. “Tie him up, boys. Looks like we have some collateral to work with.”

  10

  Chapter 10:Stand-Off

  John paced the length of his tiny cabin, his stomach roiling with a mixture of emotions. Though he’d known about Ian’s engagement to Miss Hooper, he h
ad hoped they’d have more time before an actual wedding took place. John knew he should have left well enough alone and not allowed himself to get involved. When would he learn?

  Even as he berated himself, a part of John defiantly resisted the guilt. Why should he deny himself happiness with Ian, when it was what both of them wanted?

  His war between anger and grief came to an end with the pounding of footsteps on his porch. Someone banged on the door. John scrubbed at his face and crossed to answer it. One of Mikael’s men, the foreman - Gregory, John thought he was called - stood outside, a stormy expression on his face. A bruise formed over one of his eyebrows and John thought he could see the traces of blood beneath his nose.

  John scowled. “I thought Mikael was finished with me for the evening?”

  “I’m here for Ian.” Gregory said, his tone carrying an edge of anger.

  “What about Ian?” John felt himself grow more belligerent with each passing second.

  “Don’t play games, Sheriff, I’m not in the mood.” Gregory snapped. “I know he’s here. Is he out in the barn?”

  “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about and frankly, I’m in no mood to argue with anyone. Ian isn’t here. I haven’t seen him since I left the ranch.”

  Gregory stepped back, momentarily speechless. “He… didn’t show up a little while ago?”

  “No, he didn’t.” John felt a tickle of worry up his spine as he watched Gregory. “What’s going on?”

  “Ian and Mikael argued,” Gregory began. “Ian left the ranch after… well, he became violent.”

  John raised his eyebrows and his eyes went to the bruise above Gregory’s eye. “Ian did that?”

  Gregory nodded, sheepishly. “I underestimated him. Didn’t think he’d lash out like that. I would have sworn he headed to your place.”

  The tickle of worry increased. “Has anyone checked the schoolhouse?”

  Gregory shook his head. “I’ll go back and send someone to check.”

  “I’ll come with you.” John reached for his coat and hat as he followed Gregory out the door. “Did you check the woods around my place?”