Brothers in Arms Ch. 08

"What doesn't make sense about it. You are attractive, accomplished, intelligent, much younger than I. You have started a successful business, are admired by all the good people I know and hated by all the bastards I know. And you are hung like a horse. Anything else you want to know?"

"I am extremely flattered. I also have been with one other person, but that was , well,huh huh, that was with Prest. So I ....."

"Woah, hold on, with Prest, you mean three people?"

"Well, yeah, it just sort of happened. I mean we didn't. . ."

'It's okay, I am not scandalized, but jealous. I have had dreams like that, but never, Oh my!"

"For tonight, let's just try to get some sleep. We might need to have our wits about us tomorrow."

As the two rolled over and snuggled in to rest, Neal laid his arm across Sean's shoulders tentatively and Sean responded by placing his arm over Neal's waist. Soon they were both snoring gently, tucked together like spoons.

At their lookout, Prest and Jeff had said little for several hours. Nonetheless, the budding friendship between them continued to grow. As the time for their watch to end drew near, Jeff suddenly spoke. "So Preston, can I ask you another personal question?"

"Sure, why not?"

"About you and the Negro girl. What's going on there? I thought you, you know, liked men. And, and how is it that a rebel like you can, you know. And her, a freed slave girl?"

"Ah'll never understan' it ma self. der is jus' dis attraction dere Ah kaint 'splain. As fer the Niggra part of it, well, evah since Ah met dis one slave on Sean's en ma travels, well ma outlook kind er changed. When Ah ran ma han's over the scars he had on his back from being whipped. Ah mean Ah knowed about dat, about da whippin', Ah had actually seen it from afar off, ya know, but somehow, dat night, close up en all, seein' the scars, well, it changed me. En also, seein' the kind of folks what are all 'vovled in slavin' en huntin' down slaves, Ah mean Ah were raised ta be able ta tell dey is the lowest kind a trash."

"Den when ya talk 'bout Cassie, well she-it. Neegro or not,she is jes' 'bout da sweetes' gentles' thang Ah ever did see!"

"What I was really asking, Prest, was about her being a woman. How does that fit with you having, er, whatever it is you have with Sean?"

"Damned if'n Ah know. One smart man I once met he said he wer a , lemee thank, am-by-sexual. Mebee das what Ah am, but Ah don' know. Ah still don' know ifn Ah lak boys, 'cept fer Sean."

"But you love him? And you have to like, er love what you do together, you know what I mean?"

"Well, yeah, Ah reckon Ah does, but Ah also don' think dat's all der is."

"So, let me ask what I have been trying to get around to. Do you , er, I mean, are you? Oh shit! Do you and Sean, see, that is, be with, other people, or just you two?"

"Why are ya askin' me? Ya got sumthin' else ta ask?"

"Well. . . I have never, well that is except for customers a long time ago, (Jeff blushed hotly) and they don't count, I have never been with anyone but Neal and I thought maybe, well. . . When this is all over if , well, maybe. . . You and me, or maybe even Me and Sean could, well, you know what I mean?"

"Boy howdee, ya do have a way a takin' a long way round ta askin' a question. Ain't yer paw ever taught you ta jes' ask a straight out lak? Oh crap Ah am so soree, Jeff, I fergot."

"That's okay. It isn't the first time I suffered from not having a mom and dad."

"Ah'll tell you what, Jeff. After this thang is ovah, How 'bout all four of us get together fer supper er sumthin' and we'll see what comes aroun'. Kay?"

Raht now it's tame ta wake up Neal an Sean an fer us ta go ta bed!"

As the walked toward the shelter, taking care with their footing in the near total darkness, Prest did not hear Jeff murmur under his breath, "Don't I wish it was together?"

Several hours later, Prest was awakened by a soft shake of his shoulder. The dim false dawn filtering grayly through the improvised shelter allowed him to identify Neal as the one who was waking him. Too late he realized that he had thrown off the blanket in the warm Missouri autumn night. While Neal was not exactly staring, his eyes told Preston that he was very interested in the pale naked form stretched out before him and the semi-erect state of his penis.

Sean had fanned the embers of the previous night's fire and the coffee was already boiling. Prest helped himself to a cup, while still clad only in trousers and suspenders. Within minutes Jeff joined them by the fire. Neal wandered over, cup of strong joe in hand and the four began discussing the day's plan. They assumed their prey was already in motion, for, with the day of emancipation drawing ever nearer, the slavers would undoubtedly be moving south as rapidly as possible. That meant that the four had to somehow make the right decision or they might lose their targets. As usual, it was Sean that came up with the plan. "About three quarters of a mile from here, toward the river," Sean announced, "there is a high ridge that runs almost straight north and south. Parts of all three roads should be visible from up there at one time or another. On this hand drawn map here," Sean went on, "I have assigned each road a number. For simplicity I have started with one for the westernmost, two for the middle and three for the easternmost road. What we need is someone up there with this spyglass, who can keep an eye on all three and somehow signal to the rest of us which road our kidnappers are on. That way we don't have to split up and can respond as a team. Even the fourth, whoever that is, will only be a mile at most from the rest of us. I don't think Preston should be on the ridge, because he can handle himself best with a gun. I also am not too bad with my sharp's carbine. That leaves the two of you, Neal and Jeff. I'll let the two of you decide. Then we need a method by which to signal."

"I'll go," Jeff volunteered. "Um. I could have three small fires ready, the it could be one fire for the west road, two for the middle and so on."

"I don't know," Neal put in. "What if it rains or one fire goes out, there could be pandemonium."

"Gunshots, one, two, three?" Prest suggested.

"I wonder if gunshots would warn them?" Sean asked.

Neal said, "Lots of shootin' going on these days, with the war and all, and the shots would be pretty far away from them, maybe not."

"Okay," Sean decided for everyone, "gun shots it will be. Now let's get to a place where we can see the top of that ridge."

"One problem," Jeff said, "I don't own a gun."

"You have a gun, don't you, Neal, Sean inquired.

"Yeah, but just the one rifle."

"It's okay, I have a handgun you can use. Sean unbuckled his gun belt and handed it over to Jeff as they rode. You at least know how to work it right?"

"I am not a complete innocent," Jeff replied.

As the ridge loomed into sight, Sean finalized the plan. "Jeff, you get the best horse. After you signal, get your ass moving and catch up with us. We will move as slow as we can. If you hear any confrontation, or any shooting, don't come running up and get your ass shot off. Let's do this without anyone getting hurt. If anything goes wrong, if we get separated, anything at all, everyone goes back to the smithy where the spare horses are. Any questions? Okay, get moving Jeff and good luck!"

As do all seeming adventures, this one entailed a long period of doing nothing and so it was as the three waited and watched for a signal from the fourth. They quickly ran out of topics of conversation and sat quietly and nervously waiting for the coming action which could prove fatal to any or all of them. In the idle time, Prest began to think of the way Neal had looked at him that morning. Like he and Sean, Neal seemed to lack any sense of morality when it came to sex. Preston wondered if being, what was it Jeff had said they were called, homo, sumthin' er other, automatically meant you were more likely to have looser ideas about sex. Neal was so much older, like an old man. Prest wondered if maybe he knew things, had done things that were still unknown to him. He wondered if he was like Sean or like him. Was this division that he and Sean had the same for all, homo. . . hom. . .homo sexual couples? Where one seemed to be the sort of giver and the other the receiver? An image sprung to his mind of Neal kneeling behind him and he began to wonder what Neal's penis might look like. His face blushed as red as the hair that now hung to his shoulders.

Neal spoke. "You all right Preston?"

"Yeah, uh. . . Why woun't Ah be?"

"Well you seemed kind of flushed."

"Nah, Ah jes got a bit hot, tha's all."

Suddenly three shots rang out in the distance, echoing down the long expanse of the Mississippi valley.

"Well, that's it," Sean said, "let's get moving."

They began to cut cross country to intercept the route of the eastern trail, moving quickly enough to access the trail ahead of the kidnappers, but not so quickly as to lose Jeff. It was a delicate thing and Sean decided that it was more important to find the road ahead of their prey than to lag behind for Jeff. They kept space between them and moved as quietly as they could. It was important they not be discovered. After about one hour of travel, they found their route and turned North, looking for a good spot to ambush the kidnappers and stalling a bit to give Jeff an opportunity to catch up.

About twenty minutes later, Jeff came dashing into view behind them. Sean held up his hand so everyone waited for Jeff to catch up. "Well done Jeff!" Sean said. "Are you sure it was our guys?"

"I'm sure. I used the field glass you provided. I saw her clearly. She was giving them a hell of a time, fighting and pulling every step. They weren't treating her very well. Using a riding crop to try to keep her in line."

"What?" Preston yelled.

"Not now, Prest," Sean said, his jaws set in anger. "Quiet for now. Sense for now. Anger and perhaps vengeance later. Let's ride on, we don't want to meet them accidentally."

About 2 miles farther along, they came to a narrowing of the highway, between large old groves of sweet gum trees, heavily hung with garlands of Spanish moss. "Okay", Sean said, "this is our spot. We'll split up. Jeff and I will move down about fifty yards. Prest and Neal, you conceal yourselves here. Jeff and I will move a little ahead. Nobody moves, nobody acts until I give the signal. No killing unless absolutely necessary. Our main objective here is to rescue the girl. If they grab her they could out maneuver us just by holding her hostage. I am hoping she will be tied, on foot and behind them. If that's the case I'll try to grab her first thing. If not, the person closest to her grabs her first, gets her to safety before any shooting begins. We need her safe first. Okay we will have a rifle and a pistol at each end. In any case I won't do anything until they are all well past me and between us. Everybody clear. Don't just start shootin' or you'll hit one of us. Jeff says he thinks there may be only three of them, but we don't know that for sure. That's why we have to make sure the last one is past Jeff and me before we do anything. We don't need to be surprised by an unknown."

"Okay take your places, they must be getting very close by now."

The four disappeared into the woods as arranged. Just before they all settled in, Neal shouted a warning. "Don't snuggle in the Spanish moss, its full of chiggers." In moments all was still save the whistling of a black and white mockingbird high in a tree. The air was redolent with the minty, turpentine smell of sweet gum and the wet, earthy smell of the hanging moss. Time seemed to drag on interminably. In only minutes of stillness, the mosquitoes began the work of trying to suck the blood from the four. It was nearly impossible to stay still with the hoards of mosquitoes, gnats, and blackflies swirling around their faces so thickly that it was impossible not to inhale them. They turned up their collars and hunkered down inside their shirts and tried desperately to control the nickering of the horses. Their prey was not so quiet in their movements and the four heard them coming from afar. It was easier then to remain still and quiet.

They sat horses, but moved languidly. They looked dog dirty and desperate and dangerous as bothered bears. They moved slowly but not cautiously, their stride said they were arrogant beyond all need for security. The first went by Jeff so closely that he could have tapped him on the shoulder. There were three of them. The first was obviously the leader. He was followed by a small evil looking man whose smell Jeff could detect even above that of the horses and who lead Cassandra by a rope around her waist. Her hands were tied behind her and she stumbled along and nearly fell at each step as they dragged her cruelly along. Her face was covered with bruises and dried blood adorned the corner of her mouth. She was followed by the third kidnapper, a tall thin string bean type with a coon skin cap who jabbered continually as they went along. "An' I says ta her, honey, if'n ya don' lak the smelly ol' thang, why you keep comin' back fer more and she says: 'it's the money honey, did you think it were yer good looks?' har har har. An' dishere li'l thang, even tho she be a niggra, I bleve i'se gwan tap me a bit o that this ev'nen. You here dat ya pretty lil thang? Y'all get ready fer another big hunk o' what meat. Har har har."

Preston could barely control the impulse to step out and gun down all three of them. Just drop them in their tracks. His gun hand quivered near his holster.

The second man went by Jeff, the rope trailed by. Jeff stepped out one step, grabbed the rope and pulled the girl toward the bushes. He had hoped that the outlaw would be startled and drop the rope, but it was apparently tied to the man's saddle. Jeff got her more or less to the bushes, but both fell to the ground when the horse stood on its hind legs and whinnied. The last horseman began firing immediately and Sean, only two feet away, blew him off is horse. The lead rider turned and began to fire. Preston stepped out of the bushes and felled both remaining kidnappers.

The scene devolved into total pandemonium. Horses bolted every which way in confusion, kicking and whinnying loudly. The middle horse ran, dragging Cassandra along behind. Jeff, too was dragged because he refused to release the rope. Preston jumped in front of the racing horse, but was knocked down. Neal managed to momentarily stop the horse by rapping it sharply on the nose. In the few seconds that earned him, Jeff pulled out his knife and cut the lead. "I did it," he shouted, then tumbled by the road side, unconscious and bleeding from a wound low on his left side.

Sean, too had been hit. A trail of blood ran down the side of his face from a long ugly crease just above his temple about five inches long from front to back. All three kidnappers were dead. The one Sean had shot had a huge gaping hole in his innards, the two others had small round holes in their foreheads. Neal and Sean rushed to Jeff's side. Preston knelt by Cassandra who lay unconscious and limp.

Sometime later, after they had gathered all the horses and moved off to a wider spot where they could set up a temporary campsite and tend their wounds, Sean surveyed the results of their activities. Jeff would survive. Though the bullet had grazed his hip bone and was therefore extremely painful, it had apparently not struck any major organs or arteries. Cassandra had bruises all over her body, only some of which were caused by being dragged by the horse, but luckily nothing was broken. Her demeanor seemed unusually depressed for someone recently rescued, but Sean surmised without asking, that she had suffered great abuse at the hands of the desperadoes. He thought they had probably raped her. His own wound was superficial, but hurt like blazes.

They had gained three horses, which would become Neal and Jeff's property. The kidnappers had had forty-seven dollars and change in their pockets. Plus various guns and knives and gear. The question of the day was, could they keep any of it? How would they handle the situation? Sean guessed they would have to take the bodies of the dead kidnappers back to New Madrid. That meant turning them over to the Union Army there. They could not trust that a local lawman might not be sympathetic to the cause of the slavers. He wasn't at all sure that he wanted to meet with a federal officer who might question why he was not in the army himself. Neal and Jeff were locals and known in Cairo and New Madrid. Prescot was obviously a southerner. The four, now five, decided to rest up and head back to New Madrid in the morning. Between now and then they had to get their story straight. Perhaps he could merely fade away and let the four of them pretend he never existed.

"You all right," Neal asked, ambling up and laying his hand on Sean's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine. How are the others?"

"Cassandra and Preston are together, Jeff is sleeping soundly. I had some whiskey in my pack and I fed him the whole thing."

"Your hands are shaking. You really love him don't you?"

"More than my own soul. I swear before I found that boy my life was a dead end. I thought I was doomed to a life of traveling around looking for others like me to, er, you know, to be with. He brought youth and joy and life and yes, love into my life."

The tears started then. Obviously he had held them back until this moment, kept his feelings in check until he had handled everything and Sean felt honored and privileged that Neal trusted him enough to share his tears.

"I was so scared, am still so scared. Jeff could still die. We have to get that bullet out of him, get him to a doctor," Neal sobbed.

That was all Sean could bear. He turned and folded Neal into his arms, which barely went around the huge man. "Easy, easy, Neal," Sean murmured as he patted Neal's back. "He ain't gonna die. He's gonna be fine We're all gonna be fine. I promise you."

The older man slumped in Sean's arms, weeping uncontrollable. Sean whispered encouraging words and held Neal tighter and tighter. Soon both men became aware that their bodies sought more than consolation As Neal's tears subsided, he became aware of a large presence, pressing insistently against his own groin. "My god, he said to himself, "Is that all him?" His own penis began to respond, growing tumescent in spite of his worry and grief.

"I'm sorry," Sean said, noticing the other man's response and pulling away. "I don't know what's got into me at a time like this"

Neal responded by puling Sean back into his arms. "Oh Don't be sorry, Sean. Don't ever be sorry for that, not for that." He hooked his index finger under Sean's chin and lifted the younger man's face to him, laying his lips softly on Sean's, whispering, "Hold me Sean, just hold me."

The two men stood then, face to face and body to body, worry about those they loved united them. But in their deep concern for each other, in the consolation they sought in one another, there was need. And in their need for oneness, for joining, for comfort, there was also heat. Each man reacted by pulling the other closer. Their hands patted and caressed each others backs comfortingly, but their fronts, their groins, rubbed hard against each other. Sean was the first to react, reaching between their bodies to lay the flat of his hand on Neal's hardening manhood. Neal sighed deeply in response and laid his head on Sean's shoulder. Sean, not willing to remove his hand, asked softly, "Is this okay?"

"I. . . I. . . don't know. . . yes. . . maybe. . . I. . . yes."

"I am not so sure either," Sean said. "Let's just sit together and talk."

*** *** ***

Preston was so filled with anger and hatred it seemed he would never breathe again. He held Cassandra in his arms and murmured to her that everything would be fine. Her fine cafe au lait skin was covered with bruises. She would not show him all her wounds, but he could tell by the dried blood down the inside and back of her thighs that the miscreants had done much more than beat and drag her. His rage made him wish he were not so good a shot. His mind dwelt for a few seconds on what he might do to them if any had remained alive. He shuddered.