Winter Hearts (11 page)

Luke wanted it so badly, but how could it work with men like Morley dropping by? The town wouldn’t be happy until they saw Sam married. “Let’s just see how we go.”

“I miss you whenever you’re out of my sight,” Sam said softly. He kissed Luke’s ear.

Unable to respond, Luke lay silent. What was the point of getting in too deep when there was no future for them? “We can get started on your barn tomorrow. We have to start planting soon. Planting is already late this year.”

“How about we plant your claim together and then do mine together?” Sam asked.

A little chuckle escaped Luke. Sam was persistent; he had to give him that. “That could work. Then I can show you how to plant. Unless you already figured it out from a book.”

Sam poked him in the side, making him squirm. “You ticklish, big man?” Without warning, Sam pushed Luke onto his back and straddled him, digging his fingers into Luke’s sides, squeezing and poking. Luke let out a scream and threw him off, tickling him back.

When he finally came to his senses with Sam screaming with laughter, he stopped. “What the hell’s wrong with us, acting like a couple of kids when we have to be up at dawn to work!”

Sam giggled. “You’ve changed, just in the last three months since we met. Changed for the better.”

That was because he was happy for the first time in years.

Quietly Luke lay down again, pulling Sam into his arms. “Go to sleep. We’ll be tired tomorrow.” He drew the quilt over them against the cool night air.

“Luke, who’s in those pictures in the envelope? You’re in one of them looking very handsome. Is that your family with you?”

“Looking handsome?” he repeated with a laugh. “Yes, my four sisters and my younger brother. Violet, Petronella, Rose, Alice, and Adam.”

“And what about the one of the older lady?”

“You had a good look at those pictures, didn’t you?” He kissed Sam’s cheek softly.

“Sorry. I didn’t know they were so private.”

“I guess they’re not. The older lady was my grandmother, Violet Watson. Ma’s mother. She died a while back. She lived with us for most of my life. I don’t remember my grandpa. He died when I was young.”

Sam hugged him tighter. “Are you really close to them all?”

“You ask a lot of questions. Yes, I’m fond of them all. I was especially fond of Grandmother. She made this quilt.” He lifted the edge. “It was supposed to be my wedding quilt.”

“Did she know?” Sam asked carefully.

He didn’t need to say more. Luke knew exactly what he was referring to. “Yes, she knew. We were so close. I loved her so much. I thought if I could tell anyone, it would be her.”

“What happened?” Sam asked gently.

“She didn’t understand at all. She didn’t want to hear about it. It was never the same between us after that. You see? You think you can trust someone, but you can’t. You think you know them, but you don’t know them at all.”

“You can trust me,” Sam said. He sounded like a child trying to convince a doubtful grown-up that he was an honest boy. “What about the other picture?”

Holland Endicott. He was a snake. “That was a man in Boston I thought I was in love with. He was older than me.”

Sam poked him in the side, saying, “You mean you don’t just go for handsome young bucks like me?”

Luke chuckled, but it was subdued. “I thought I loved him. I thought he loved me.”

“What happened?” Sam asked quietly.

Luke couldn’t decide whether to tell him or leave it where it belonged in the past. Maybe he’d feel better if he said it out loud. “His name’s Holland Endicott. He was rich as hell. I was twenty-four, and he was ten years older, maybe eleven; I don’t remember. I was still thinking it was possible to have a life with a man. He sure led me to believe he didn’t care what anyone thought and we’d be good together. I had no idea he was rich.”

“So you were living in Boston at the time?” Sam asked.

Luke nodded even though it was dark. “My father got ill with the rheumatic fever. He’s never recovered properly. Anyway, he couldn’t manage the butcher shop anymore, even with Ma helping, and my brother was only twelve and the girls were married or getting married, so Ma wrote and asked me to come home to help out. I went willingly enough.”

He sighed heavily before continuing. “I met Holland in a workingman’s tavern one night in River Street. A place men like us go. He was dressed like he worked on the docks or somewhere, so I thought he did. I thought he came from the same place I did. He didn’t, but for months he led me to believe he did. I never went home with him or met his family. He had a rented room in a house, and we’d meet there. I thought he lived there.”

“But he didn’t?”

“As it turned out, no. I started talking about us maybe living together, but by then he was getting bored with me. He told me about his family being wealthy and how they couldn’t ever know about him liking men. I kept on seeing him anyway because I was in love with him. All he wanted was the sex. I thought eventually he would love me like I loved him and he’d say to hell with his family and that he wanted me no matter what the cost. To cut a long story short, he was married the whole time, and I wasn’t the only man he was stringing along. He liked working-class men, rough around the edges. He even changed his way of speaking to sound like me, but after he told me about his family, that uppity accent of his came out. I only saw him a few times after that.”

“I’m sorry, Luke,” Sam said.

“He strung me along for a year while I fell in love with him; then he tossed me aside like I was trash. After that I stayed in Boston until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Then I asked Violet’s husband if he would take over the shop till Adam was old enough. Eventually he agreed, and I went to the mines in Canada.”

“Have you ever loved another man since then?”

Luke detected the hope in Sam’s tone.

Not till you
. “No. That shit’s for the birds. Now I just want to farm my land and live a quiet life.”

“So do I,” Sam said.

“You’re young. You’ll soon get tired of it.”

“Guess I’ll just have to prove it to you, then?”

He’d noticed Sam’s accent before and commented on it now. “You know, you sound a bit like Holland, the way you say certain words.”

“I must have picked it up working in the hotel.”

Luke kissed him on the forehead. “Go to sleep, boy. We’ll be up at dawn building you a barn.”

With Sam nestled in his arms, they fell asleep.

Chapter Ten

“Enjoy yourself in church.”

Sam kissed Luke tenderly on the lips. “Are you sure you won’t come?”

“I’m positive. Church ain’t my thing. Anyway, you’re going to Morley’s house for dinner to get eaten up by his wife and daughters, and they sure as heck don’t want me there.” He laughed, but Sam could see he wasn’t really amused.

“I’ll be home in plenty of time to make supper for you.” Sam pecked him again and went outside into the bright morning sun and cool, pleasant breeze. “Come on, Pip!”

The horse had wandered a hundred feet away, grazing on the soft prairie grass. He pricked up his ears as he trotted to Sam, who had put a bridle and saddle on him so he wouldn’t look like such a wild man in town. He mounted and set off at an easy trot under the arc of clear blue sky.

The ride would have been pleasanter had his conversation with Luke last night not been troubling him. Luke and Holland! He’d had no idea Holland liked men. It seemed he was one of those dishonest men who married to create a public face of respectability while being adulterous to his wife and disrespectful to the men he engaged with.

I lied to Luke about my circumstances, but I’m not and never will be an adulterer. I would never betray Luke with a secret marriage.

The little town was busy with people. Wagons lined Main Street from the folks who had driven into De Smet from their claims to attend church, which was being held in the schoolhouse, a stone’s throw outside town, until a proper building could be constructed.

Sam was tying Pip to the hitching post outside Fuller’s when Linden Morley hailed him. The man must have been watching out for him. “Sam, how are you this fine Sunday?”

“Very well, Mr. Morley, and yourself, sir?”

“Good, good.” The man looked around before saying, “Chandler not come with you?”

Sam shook his head, unwilling to discuss Luke with this man or anyone.

“It’s for the best. Some men don’t belong in church.”

“That’s true, some men don’t.” Sam smiled. “More often than not the ones who are there.”

A small sneer crossed Morley’s face. He clearly caught Sam’s meaning.

“Hey there, young Smith!” a voice hailed him. Mr. Fuller walked out of his hardware store waving at him. “You got some mail.”

“I’ll see you in church, Mr. Morley.” Sam excused himself and went inside Fuller’s. “I didn’t realize the mail came here.”

“Yes, I deal with the mail until we get a post office in town, which should be pretty soon.” Mr. Fuller pulled a stack of letters from under the counter, sorting through it until he found Sam’s bundle. “There you go. Three letters. Someone’s popular.”

Sam took the mail, looking at each letter in turn. Courtland Choate’s flowery handwriting was instantly recognizable. Groaning inwardly, Sam thought, I told him it was over. The second letter was from his grandmother, who was in England just then, and on the last he saw his mother’s writing. All three bore the name Sam Smith and had no return addresses. At least they had abided by his wishes to be plain Sam Smith for a while. He crushed all three into his pocket.

“Thank you, Mr. Fuller.”

“News from your folks?” he asked, smiling.

“Yes, sir.

“That’s nice.”

Sam nodded, forcing a smile, though he expected nothing but recriminations from his mother and dreaded reading her letter.

Fuller walked outside with him, locking the store behind him. “We’d better get over to the schoolhouse, or we’ll miss the start of the service.”

The desks in the schoolhouse had been moved outside to make room for benches. It was warm from so many people crowded into such a small space. Sam stood at the back with the young men, leaving the benches for the ladies and older men. There was no room for the children, so they were allowed to play outside during the service. By the sounds of their whoops and hollers, they were happy with the arrangement.

“How are you, son?” Mr. Ingram, a naturally thin man, looked much better now that he had a few good meals inside him, a little fatter and much brighter. He shook Sam’s hand with much more strength than he had in January.

“Very well, thank you, sir. How’s your family?”

“Doing much better.”

The service went on for two hours, and Sam enjoyed it, especially the sermon during which the reverend preached love thy neighbor. Sam had grown up in the Episcopal Church and had always found comfort through prayer. He wished Luke had come with him to perhaps find comfort also.

Though he preferred men and came from a very privileged background, Sam had never thought of himself as set apart from his fellows, not by his preferences nor by his wealth. To him all people were equal—the only thing separating them being a conscience and a sense of decency. Some had both and some had neither.

Several times Sam found himself distracted during the hymns.

What was he going to do about the Holland Endicott situation? Sam hadn’t seen him since before he’d gone away to Harvard, and right now he felt like he never wanted to see him again, though Holland had always been kind to him in the past. He had never guessed the man was a liar, but then wasn’t Sam a liar for the things he’d told Luke about his family? He’d never told a lie before in his life, and he hated doing it now. He needed a few more months for Luke to really learn to trust him. Then he would tell him everything. Just by Luke’s tone when he’d told him about Holland, Sam knew his man was still hurt.

The minute the service was over, Linden Morley had him by the elbow. “Come along and meet my wife and girls.”

Sam felt himself being propelled out of the building and down the steps. Standing beside a brand-new carriage were three ladies. Sam had to admit the two daughters were pretty. All three women were dressed in silk with elaborate straw hats, unlike the other townswomen, who wore their best calicos and sunbonnets to church.

It was plain they were wealthier than most of the town and not averse to showing it. So why was Morley determined to get friendly with him when he was playing the part of an ordinary man? Why weren’t they looking for a suitor of more substance for their daughters? As far as they knew, he was ordinary Sam Smith, not Samuel Porter-Smith the third, heir to Porter-Smith Shipping and Investments.

Mrs. Morley couldn’t stop smiling at him while the girls remained silent.

“My good wife, Clara, and my daughters, Josephine and Veronica.” Sam took off his hat and bowed to the ladies. “You get your horse and follow us,” Morley ordered.

“Yes, sir.” He’d get this dinner over with, and then he’d be free to refuse further invitations on the excuse of being too busy on the claim. Sam was sure that Luke hadn’t wanted him to go, though he hadn’t said it.

Sam followed the Morley carriage out of town to a very nice two-story house that must have been built last summer. Everyone new in town had only claim shanties. The Morley house had a big front porch with a rocking swing, comfortable chairs, and flowers outside. Lace curtains hung in every window. Sam was ushered inside and shown the house, both upstairs and down by Morley while Mrs. Morley and the girls set out the dinner. Morley pointed out the modern furniture, all new, the paintings—some of which looked old—and the expensive ornaments. While Morley might be up and coming, he’d never be of the Brahmin class. His boasting alone made that apparent.

The dinner, when they finally sat down, was very good—ham and salad greens with cold potatoes in mayonnaise. “Eat up, Sam. Enjoy,” Morley said magnanimously.

“Thank you, sir.” Sam ate polite portions, not taking more until he was encouraged. The girls smiled at him, speaking only when their father directed a question at them. Morley appeared to have a tight control over his women.