Chapter Twenty
Preston stepped out of the stagecoach office which held the postal and telegram services as well. He'd sent word to his family, letting them know that he was just fine, telling them about his traveling companion, the ways he was learning to defend himself, and the fun he was having. He left out any mention of his most recent breathing attack and the healer they were going to go see. That would only cause his parents to worry and hope and neither were things he wanted to cause them. He didn't mention the possibility of bounty hunting either... He could only imagine the reaction his overprotective papa would have to hearing that.
Preston glanced up and down the crowded town streets but didn't see Xavier. Where could the man be? They'd already put the horses and mule up at the livery so he knew he wasn't busy doing that. Preston adjusted his saddlebags over his shoulder and swatted at a fly buzzing around his head.
He needed a bath.
Preston headed down the road toward the bathhouse, pausing when he saw the tailor shop. He picked at the hole in his sleeve and rubbed at a stain in his trousers. A new set of clothes wouldn't hurt anything.
As he stepped out of the bathhouse a short time later in a set of fresh stain free clothes, Preston still didn't see Xavier.
Where the hell was his man at?
Preston's stomach rumbled angrily. He was starved. He didn't want to eat without Xavier but if the man didn't show himself soon, Preston wouldn't have a choice.
He saw a bench nearby and decided to have a seat and let Xavier find him. Laying his saddlebags beside him on the rough wooden seat, Preston stretched out his legs, laid his hat over his face and cross his arms over his chest. Might as well rest a bit while he waited.
Preston hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until Xavier's voice jerked him awake. "You really shouldn't fall asleep in the middle of town. I don't reckon a sleeping man can defend his damn self."
Preston shoved his hat up on his head as he looked sheepishly up at the dark silhouette above him. "I wasn't sleeping."
Xavier crossed his arms over his chest as those dimples deepened in his cheeks. "You weren't, huh?"
"Nope."
"Yes, you were. I'm not the only one who snores."
Preston felt his face redden as he got to his feet and hefted up his saddlebags. "Yeah, well, let's go get something to eat. I'm starving."
Preston started walking, nearly becoming tangled up in his own feet when Xavier's breath blew across his neck. "Damn you smell good."
Preston took a big step to the side, placing distance between them so he could focus on those words he knew so many of. "I took a bath. You could stand to have one yourself."
Xavier chuckled. "I'll get one after we eat. I wouldn't want to stink up our first night in a real bed."
The two men ate their lunch in the crowded diner before making their way to the hotel. Preston wished he could walk closer to Xavier. He wished he could hold his hand. But this wasn't home and home was the only place Preston knew of where folks didn't get uptight about two men being together.
Preston felt a pang of homesickness. He really did want to get back there soon. He missed his family. And he wanted to show Xavier how life could be when you didn't have to hide who you were—who you loved.
"Hello gentleman, could I interest you in a couple of rooms?"
Preston shook his head as he pulled his money pouch from his saddlebags. "Just one room, sir."
The middle-aged man pulled off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt before placing them back on his face. "Only one room?"
"Yes sir," Preston replied, feeling his face heat.
The clerk frowned. "Are you quite sure?"
Xavier growled and laid his hand on the counter in a method very similar to slamming. "I reckon you heard the goddamn man the first time."
The man stuttered several times and nodded. "Yes.. Yes, of course." He pointed at the registry and handed Preston a pen. "Just sign here, sir."
Preston quickly scribbled his name. "How much will it be for two nights?"
The man appeared ready to say something less than polite about two men getting a room for two nights but Preston saw him glance at Xavier and it had him swallowing hard. "A dollar fifty." After Preston paid him, the man laid a key in his hand. "Room 10A."
Preston took the key and led a tense Xavier from the front desk. Once they were safely inside their second story room, Xavier threw his saddlebags down. "You're too nice, Preston."
Preston simply rolled his eyes and chose a book from his saddlebags. "There's no reason for me to be an ass. You seem to have that roll covered."
Xavier stalked toward him as Preston stood there on trembling legs, holding his book to his chest. "I'm your ass," Xavier assured him. His voice became a low growl. "And I can't wait to have yours in that bed."
Somehow Preston put his hands on Xavier's chest and held the man at bay. "Bath. You said you'd take a bath."
It was clear Xavier wasn't pleased with Preston's rejection but the man backed down. "Fine. But then you're mine."
Trembling at the promise in Xavier's voice, Preston handed him some money. "A bath and clean clothes. Drop your dirty ones off at the laundry in town. Then you can come back and do whatever it is you have in your mind to do."
"I thought I was the bossy one?" Xavier grumbled, shoving the money in his vest pocket.
Preston pointed to the door. "Go."
With one last hungry scan of Preston's body, Xavier left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Preston took several deep breaths to steady his racing heart. He laid his book on the bed before slipping off his gun belt and boots. Never had he felt anything as comfortable as the bed and soft blankets he climbed into after so many nights of sleeping on the ground.
He opened his book and buried his nose inside of it, losing himself in the pages.
***
Xavier's nerves were getting the better of him as he headed back toward the hotel smelling like soap in a fresh set of clothes. He laid his hand over his chest feeling the necklace dangling there, hidden beneath his shirt. Then tapped the matching one in his pocket.
He'd sold an old silver pocket watch to buy these two pieces of jewelry and he felt more than a little awkward. Hell, Xavier had never in his life purchased jewelry.
His feet were heading for the hotel and his mind was filled with Preston when footsteps came awfully close behind him. "Well, hell, it is you, Xavier."
Xavier stiffened as he turned slowly. He knew that voice. "Yeah, I reckon it is, Clarence."
Clarence rubbed at his thick neck and rocked back on his heels. "Been a long time since we've run into each other."
"Not long enough."
Amusement lit the other man's dark brown eyes. "Still just as ornery as ever, aren't ya?"
With a shrug, Xavier shifted his weight. "I'd hate to change now. If that's all you wanted to say, I'll be on my way now..."
"Not so fast," Clarence insisted, causing Xavier to pause. "Where you rushing off to? It ain't got nothing to do with that boy, does it?"
Xavier bristled. "What boy?"
Clarence pointed the hotel. "The one you rode into town with. It ain't like you to be riding with someone."
"I'm not riding with anyone," Xavier lied. Clarence was an untrustworthy bastard and Xavier didn't much care for the man getting into his business. "I found that man out in the wilderness lost and half-starved. Just didn't seem right to leave him there so I brought him to town."
Clarence ran his hand over his thick black mustache. "You eat lunch and walk real close with every man you rescue from the wilderness?"
Xavier's brow rose. "Why you wanna be rescued?"
Clarence simply shook his head. Xavier pulled a cigarette from his pocket and struck a match to light it. "You spying on me now, Clarence?"
"Not spying. Observing."
Xavier nodded and took a slow draw off his cigarette as he watched a woman leading her three young children down the road. He blew the smoke out into Clarence's face. "Well go do your goddamn observing somewhere else. I ain't the kind of man who appreciates being observed."
Clarence raised his hand in mock surrender. "Okay. Okay. But I need to let you know that Franks is aware you've been chasing him."
There it was. The real reason that Clarence was sniffing around. "I ain't worried about Franks." Xavier thought about Franks whose likeness adorned the five-hundred dollar dead or alive bounty that Xavier had been hoping to collect on when he'd met Preston. "So, tell me Clarence, does Franks have you doing his threatening for him now?"
Clarence chuckled, the sound cold and humorless. "I ain't much for threatening, Xavier. Men like you and I, we don't waste time with threats."
Xavier tossed his cigarette down and snuffed it out beneath his boot. "Am I supposed to believe you're telling me about Franks out of the goodness of your heart?"
Clarence shook his head. "I'm telling you because he's damn mad and I'd hate to see you take a bullet in the back. You know Franks ain't above putting one there. He ain't the type of fight fair."
Xavier scratched at his shoulder. "Like I said before I ain't worried about Franks. Why don't you just go on back to him and let him know I ain't chasing him no more so he gets to breathe a bit longer. He can forget about me and I'll forget about him—and the threat he had you deliver to me."
"Now dammit, I told you I wasn't delivering any threats for that man—I'm just warning you. I'd hate to see anything happen to that boy you're riding with."
Xavier tensed. His eyes narrowed as he stared Clarence down and fought the urge to wrap his hand around the man's neck and keep it there until he stopped kicking. "That man I rode into town with ain't nothing for anyone to be concerned with. He's just someone I found on the plains and nothing more. Now if you're doing with your warnings and your observing, I've been traveling a long time and would like a bit of rest."
"Sure, Xavier. Sure, you go get that rest."
Xavier watched Clarence walk away, in no hurry to turn his back on the man until there was a good distance and plenty of bodies between them. Xavier hadn't been completely honest with Clarence. He was worried about Franks. Not because of anything Franks might do to him, but because of Preston.
If Franks or Clarence harmed a single blond hair on that man's head... Xavier clenched his fists. He'd kill anyone who dared attempt to lay a hand on the man he loved. Xavier hadn't ever had a single good thing in his life. He wasn't about to let cold-blooded murdering bastards like Clarence and Franks take the good he'd finally found away from him.
Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding watching Clarence walk away, Xavier turned his feet back toward the hotel. He'd keep Preston safe. He wasn't going to let outlaws or a sickness take his man away—Xavier simply wouldn't allow it.
A/N: I am so in love with Preston and Xavier and it's making this story so much easier (and harder) to write. I hate putting them through any kind of struggle! But, alas, a story isn't truly a story without it's share of threats and danger! How about some warm fluffiness next chapter, yes? No sickness, no bad guys, no sadness... just pure fluff and smut? Sound good?