Cabin Fever: A M/M Western Romance Page 3
“Good man, Sheriff Jameson.” Mikael leaned back behind his desk, a smile stretching across his face.
* * *
John’s discovery of the carcass was his moment of excitement in an otherwise normal day. While the incident was fresh in his mind, he wrote up a full report for his own records. The thunderclouds outside continued to gather and darken; John wondered to himself if the barn-raising would end in a deluge. Figuring his work clothes would suffice for the gathering, he dampened a spare kerchief from the water pump outside and wiped the dust of the day from his face. Returning his hat to his head, he made to climb on Azure, only to be stopped by Sarah Sawyer, who hurried his way. The hem of her flowered dress swept the boards of the walkway, creating tiny puffs of dust as she moved. A ruffled bonnet hid her red hair from view.
“Sheriff Jameson! I’m glad I ran into you!” She beamed. “I was wondering if you’d been invited to the barn-raising at the Thompson’s this evening?”
“I surely have.” John smiled, finding Sarah’s pleasant demeanor hard to rebuff. “I was just about to head that direction.”
“Wonderful!” Sarah clapped her hands together and smiled even wider. “I shall see you there, then. I’ve been put in charge of the lemonade, so I’ll be sure to save a glass for you!”
With another bright grin and a wave of her hand, Sarah swept back to the general store, where her father waited with their carriage. John watched them leave, then mounted Azure and ambled off after them.
* * *
In a sleepy town like Lockwood, a barn-raising was enough to bring out the whole populace, eager to exchange gossip with neighbors and partake in a shared feast afterwards.
John found himself stuck in with a crowd of men erecting supports for the walls. The air outside was humid and still, the oncoming thunderstorm making it hard to breathe. Women bustled around them, setting up tables laden with food. Chili and cornbread, roasts dripping with fat, boiled potatoes and vegetables, and a separate table with assorted cakes and pies created a feast for the eyes and nose. John felt his stomach gurgle as he worked up a sweat putting up the walls of the barn. He spotted Sarah among the women working at the food tables as she dished out glasses of lemonade to anyone who approached. She waved at John as their eyes met and he couldn’t help but wave back.
He also caught the eye of Ian Lofte, who stood by Mikael as they conversed nearby with some of the elderly council members of Lockwood. John felt Ian’s gaze on him before he turned to look, the blue eyes boring into his back with intensity. Ian blushed and looked away when John met his eyes. John couldn’t explain why his stomach did a flip when he saw Ian. The young man wore a deep blue shirt with a band collar and tan canvas pants held up by suspenders. A lighter blue kerchief was knotted around his neck and a black hat with a cattleman crease perched atop his dark curls. His shiny black lace-up shoes were dust-free, a sign that he’d not attended the barn-raising to work. John swallowed hard as he imagined Ian’s lithe muscles working beneath the fabric of his shirt to help raise the walls of the barn. He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head, trying to banish the mental picture. A reprimand from one of the men beside him as his part of the wall almost slipped was enough to focus John’s mind back on the task at hand.
Distant rumbles of thunder could be heard by the time they finished the barn. John mopped his brow and gratefully accepted a glass of lemonade from Sarah. He sipped at the cool, tart drink as he moved through the throngs of people milling around. He stopped several times to greet familiar faces and answer questions about his first weeks in Lockwood. While he talked with a grizzled farmer from the outskirts, Mikael Lofte came up behind him and slapped him on the back.
“Good to see you here, John!” Mikael said in a jolly tone. “It’s nice to see our new sheriff getting to know his town.”
“Happy to participate.” John replied, smiling. He saw Ian hovering behind Mikael, looking uncomfortable. “And how is your brother enjoying the evening?”
Ian’s face turned pink at being acknowledged, but Mikael turned and smiled tightly at his brother. “Ian, I’m afraid, wasn’t able to help with the barn-raising. His constitution isn’t as strong as some of the other men in Lockwood.”
Blushing harder, Ian looked at his feet and muttered something so quiet, John couldn’t make out the words. He looked between Mikael and Ian, feeling rankled at the older man’s treatment of his obviously shy brother.
“That’s all right, isn’t it?” John said, keeping his voice friendly. “There were plenty of people to help. Have you had some of the lemonade, Ian? It’s quite good.”
Ian glanced up at John, his gratitude at the change of subject clear. “I have not. I shall have to rectify that.” He aimed a slightly wobbly smile at John and swept over to where Sarah still doled out glasses of lemonade.
“My brother is, I’m afraid, rather different from most men in this part of the country.” Mikael said. “I questioned whether he would survive in a place like this, but I did not feel comfortable leaving him to fend for himself in the city alone.”
“Well.” John wanted to keep his working relationship with Mikael a friendly one, but he felt his hackles raise when Mikael spoke about how different Ian was. “He seems to hold his own, doesn’t he?”
“Perhaps.” Mikael mused, his sharp eyes still trained on Ian’s back. “Ah well, I see a few people I must greet. Enjoy the evening, John.”
Relieved he was away from Mikael’s company, John drifted closer to Ian. He raised his glass of lemonade in a toast of greeting and offered a friendly smile to the young man.
“Azure’s doing well, if you were wondering.” John said, picking a subject he felt comfortable discussing. “She’s the easiest horse I’ve ever worked with.”
“I’m glad.” Ian’s voice was deep and smooth, like rich, buttery leather. “I used to help care for her, when I wasn’t teaching. I miss her.”
“You know you can come visit any time.” John said. “It’s no bother. The paddock is behind my cabin, but there’s a gate into the yard, so you can go in without going through the cabin.”
“I’ll remember that.” Ian allowed a small smile to touch the corners of his mouth. “I just don’t want to be a bother.”
“No bother. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.” John watched Ian intently for a few moments.
“How are you enjoying your time in Lockwood?” Ian asked, obviously emboldened by John’s friendliness.
“It’s good.” John said quickly. “I like the people I’ve met so far and the work is enjoyable. Did your brother tell you about the cow I found this morning?”
Ian nodded. “Terrible. I hope you’ll be able to bring whomever did it to justice.”
“You spend a lot of time outdoors, don’t you? When you’re not teaching? Have you noticed anyone strange nearby?”
“How did you know I spend time outdoors?” Ian’s eyes sharpened and became guarded.
“I-I saw you, one day. Near the lake.” John realized he’d overstepped as Ian closed off from him. “I just… I didn’t stay for long, I just noticed you sketching something.”
Ian nodded stiffly. “I enjoy observing nature. But I’m afraid I haven’t noticed anything unusual.”
John rocked back on his heels, trying to figure out how to return the conversation to its earlier ease.
Before he could, however, Sarah approached.
“John! They’re about to start the music! Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” She asked, head held high as she flicked a disinterested gaze at Ian.
“Oh! Um, sure.” John looked around and set his glass on the edge of a food table. “Good evening, Ian. Nice talking with you.”
A few party-goers were unpacking instruments and tuning them. John gaped as Ian joined them, taking a fiddle out of a battered case. Soon the merry strains of music filled the air and John found himself dancing with Sarah. But he couldn’t shake his interest in Ian as he watched him balance the fiddle on his shoulder
and use those thin, graceful fingers to dance the bow across the strings. John’s throat went dry as he imagined the same fingers fumbling at the buttons of his shirt.
“John? You okay?” Sarah’s question brought John’s mind back to the present. He must have stumbled to cause Sarah’s concern.
“F-fine.” John said shakily, trying to find the rhythm of the dance again. “Just tired, I think.”
The party continued well into the night, lanterns being lit to illuminate the darkness. The thunderclouds over the mountains flashed with lightning, but the storm came no closer. John and Sarah danced several more times before John bowed out gracefully, allowing a younger, more eager man to take his place. Now he hovered at the edge of the dance floor, contemplating how to make a quiet exit. Mikael was deep in a serious conversation with several of his cronies, his points being illustrated by a stabbing finger on his palm. John decided he would be safe to slip away unnoticed. As he approached where he’d tied Azure off, he discovered Ian standing next to his mare, running his hands over her mane and whispering softly to her. John slowed to a stop and leaned against a nearby tree, just watching Ian. When he was alone, Ian’s demeanor relaxed, his limbs loosened. John lost himself in watching Ian and Azure, his eyes greedily taking in the way Ian’s clothes clung to his body.
“Watching me again?” The voice, still soft, was just loud enough to reach John’s ears.
John straightened, his face instantly turning red. “I, uh… I didn’t mean… umm….”
Ian chuckled, but didn’t turn away from Azure. “I suppose you want to leave.”
“I did, but it’s okay. I can go back to the party.”
“No, don’t.” Ian said, turning his head a fraction to look at John. “I just wanted to say hello to her.”
“She’s special to you, isn’t she?”
“She is.”
“Why isn’t she yours, then?”
“I don’t ride, actually. And my brother would think it a waste for me to have a horse I didn’t ride.” Ian wound his fingers in Azure’s mane again. “She is a good companion, though. She listens well.”
“I’m sorry I took her from you, then.” John said softly. “I know how important it is to have someone who will listen.”
“Not your fault.” Ian stepped back, untangling his fingers from Azure’s hair. “But I appreciate your understanding. I think I will take you up on your offer to visit her.”
Ian turned to leave and, on impulse, John reached out and grabbed his hand. Ian’s skin felt smooth and cool, delicate like a china teacup. His fingers flexed in surprise beneath John’s calloused hand. John felt heat build in his stomach and he watched Ian.
“I hope you will.” John said.
Ian’s mouth opened slightly and John found himself fascinating with his pink lips, a perfect bow that complimented his delicate features. Though the moment lasted mere seconds, John felt like time slowed for him. He was aware of Ian’s every breath, his heartbeat, the sweep of his lashes as he blinked his eyelids. Just as quickly as the moment began, it ended. John dropped Ian’s hand and stepped away, towards Azure.
“You’re welcome any time, like I said.” John’s voice was rough as he tried to quell the feelings coursing through him. “Good evening, Ian.”
He climbed on Azure’s back and squeezed his knees, urging her away. Though the darkness swallowed him up, he knew Ian stood behind, watching his back as he rode away. As he rode, the skies finally opened up and fat drops of rain hit the dry dust with a soft hiss. John urged Azure faster down the lane to his cabin, eager to escape the soaking that would surely come if he stayed out in the storm.
4
Chapter 4: Gone A'Courting
The rain continued into the next week, a lazy drizzle that left the roads muddy and coated everything at ankle-height with a layer of dirt. John discovered his cabin roof leaked the first night it rained and now he slept to the tink-tink of raindrops filling the dented tin pans he scattered around to catch the leaks.
The rain made his daily patrols a miserable affair, hunched down in his coat, his hat tipped over his face. Azure proved capable in the bad weather , navigating the mud and damp without complaint. John spent extra time each night, wiping her coat free of any mud and running a brush through her mane. He’d grown excessively fond of his horse and he couldn’t deny that part of the reason was because he saw the face of Ian Lofte in his mind’s eye every time he looked at her.
John hadn’t needed to dine at the Lofte’ Ranch since the barn raising. His appearance - and his friendly attitude - seemingly engendered fondness for him in the wives and mothers of Lockwood. He had received home-cooked food almost every night, brought to him by smiling women who thanked him for protecting the town. John knew he couldn’t count on these gifts to continue, but he’d decided to appreciate them all the same. He would be lying if he denied looking forward to returning to the Lofte’ Ranch for another encounter with Ian. Though he admonished himself each time the fae, lithe young man flitted into his brain, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the night of the barn-raising and the feel of Ian’s soft hand in his own work-roughened one. He imagined what it would feel like, to have the skin of Ian’s neck beneath his lips, to tangle his hands in those black curls. John cursed his wandering mind each night when these thoughts intruded. He refused to acknowledge the heat it brought to him, the ache between his legs. Instead, he tossed, sleepless, in his bed until exhaustion claimed him, the sunrise arriving too soon afterwards to signal the beginning of another day.
* * *
The invitation to attend church, followed by dinner with Sarah Sawyer and her father came on the first day without rain in over a week. It took the form of a handwritten note, slipped between the supplies John picked up at the general store. The promise of a roast beef dinner on Sunday proved too tempting for John to refuse, even though he knew Miss Sawyer’s motives were far from innocent. How quickly his aim for a simple, country life became entangled with emotions and complications. John made a mental note to stop at the store and accept the offer and tucked the invitation in the pocket of his jeans. It would do no harm to dine with the Sawyers and keep his mind open to his options.
The clear, sunny skies and already-drying ground made John’s patrol that morning easier than it had been all week. As the clock crept towards noon, John found himself without much to do. No more cattle mutilations had happened that week and the trail to finding the culprit of the original crime ran cold. Almost without thinking, John guided Azure to the little white building in town that served as the one-room schoolhouse. Because of the warmer weather, the door stood propped open to let in fresh air. John clambered from Azure’s back and tied her loosely to the gate leading to the schoolhouse. He could hear the deep rumble of Ian’s voice drift out to him from inside the building.
The schoolhouse was small inside and lined with worn benches filled with all ages of children. They clutched their slates as they paid attention to Ian, who faced the large chalkboard at the front of the classroom. He had shed his light gray jacket and maroon waistcoat, leaving them on his desk chair, and wore a loose white shirt and gray trousers held up by suspenders. John leaned against the doorway, trying to make no noise. His eyes instantly drew to the v-shaped thatch of curls at the nape of Ian’s neck and he felt his breath hitch slightly. Perhaps this had been a mistake, but by now some of the children had noticed his presence and it was too late to leave.
Ian finished writing a series of equations on the chalkboard. With his back still turned, he stepped away. “Class, these are the equations I would like you to work on for the remainder of today. I’ll be around to help anyone who needs it.”
He turned and John saw he wore a small pair of spectacles perched on his nose, giving him a studious air he found intensely appealing. Ian’s eyes immediately tracked to John and he stilled, eyebrows raising.
“Sheriff Jameson?” Ian asked. “Is there a problem?”
“Not at all. I apologize for inte
rrupting your class. I simply found myself with some free time and wanted to see what the schoolhouse looked like.” John felt a brush creep over his cheeks as he struggled to find a good excuse for his appearance.
“Ah, well, I hope you find it to your liking, then.” Ian replied. “Class, please say hello to our new sheriff.”
A chorus of voices rose in greeting and John tipped his hat to the small faces turned his way. “I’ll go now, leave you to your work. Good to see you, Mr. Lofte.”
That he did not stumble and break his neck in his efforts to leave as quickly as possible was a miracle, John thought. He only stopped himself from taking off at a full run towards Azure because he didn’t want to give away just how nervous Ian Lofte made him.
As he reached Azure and began untangling her reins, a voice called out behind him. “Sheriff Jameson, a moment?”
John turned to find Ian striding towards him. In the sun, his curls flashed like raven’s feathers and his eyes took on the same color as the clear sky. “Something the matter?”
“No, not at all.” Ian said, drawing close to him. “I only wanted to see if you’d mind if I stopped by this evening and spent some time with Azure?”
“That would be fine,” John replied, his heart thrumming at the idea of seeing Ian on his own. “I usually arrive about an hour and a half before sundown. Any time after that, she’s all yours.”
Ian allowed a small smile to play at his lips as he bent his head in gratitude. “Then I shall see you both this evening.”
He returned to his classroom and John swung his leg up and over Azure, seating himself firmly on her back. He paused for a moment longer, listening to the voices resume inside the classroom. A smile stretched across his face, his eyes crinkling, as he savored the warm, happy feeling in his chest that kindled each time he stood near Ian Lofte.
* * *
Ian Lofte
Lockwood, Montana