There was no point in thinking about it, Tom knew he couldn’t walk away, not any longer. He bathed quickly, the water was as mercifully cold as he’d hoped, and shaved while crouching near the creek bank, wearing only his pants and under britches. He took the chance to wash out the outfit he’d had on, wringing as much of the water out of the cloth as he could, taking some of his own frustrations at himself out on it.

He pulled on his under shirt and tugged the placket fronted shirt over it. He’d have to think about getting new clothes soon, these were old now and he’d never bothered to replace his suit. What he wore now was fine for riding around aimlessly but if he were to pick a direction he’d have to start looking better than something that had just rolled in off the trail.

His feet would have been happier in the soft spring grass but Tom pulled his socks and boots back on anyway. He figured he’d stalled long enough, the boy was probably a nervous mess by now, so he climbed back up the hill and stopped near the spread blanket.

Alex sat, daintily, on one side of it. He was deftly wielding a knife and cutting the extra linens up into good duplicates of Tom’s bandages. Each section he had rolled up into a tight bundle and set on a pile near his hip.

“What are you doing?”
“Cutting bandages.” He glanced up and had to smile at the clean shaven face. “You look nice.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

Alex shrugged. “I tended to the horses already and fed the pigs but I’m guessing you’ll be turning them loose. I’ve gone through the food they had and sorted out anything that could be taken along on the trail, it’s on the corner of the porch. Also, I’ve pulled out some bottles of their whiskey, seeing that you’re a doctor I figured you could use it.”

“Busy little thing aren’t you?”

“I like to be useful.”

Tom shook his head and tossed his wet clothing over the tree limbs beside the boy’s. “What’s in Memphis?”

“My uncle’s there.” He finished quickly rolling the bandage he was working on and rose to his still bare feet. With a light step he went to the porch and pulled open a leather traveling bag. Having the bag back meant a great deal to him and from inside he pulled out the letter. “He wrote my mother.”

Tom settled onto the blanket and accepted the offered letter. He scanned it, and the envelope it came in. “This is five years old.”

“He’ll be there.”

“You’re sure he’ll take you in.”

“He said, right there, that if mother needed a place to stay, she and her daughter were always welcome.”

Tom shook his head. “Yes, but you aren’t a daughter.”

“It won’t matter.” He sat down and started back in on cutting the bandages.

“So, you’ll lie to him and tell him you’re a girl?”
The knife paused. “I don’t know but he’ll take me in. He’s my only family, he has to.”

“Blood ties don’t always overlook things like boys who rather wear skirts.”

“I know but at least I’ll have tried.” He wasn’t so foolish to think he’d be welcomed with open arms but it was the only hope he had to clung to.

“Well, you’re in luck, boy. I was on my way down to Louisiana anyway before I headed out west. If you don’t annoy me too much you can ride with me to Memphis.” He’d only just now decided to go back south but the idea felt right.

Alex nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t, my mother taught us to never pick up a stray kitten unless you planned on bringing it home with you. Well, boy, you’re about the saddest stray kitten I’ve ever seen, I should have known better.” In spite of the insult, the boy was smiling slightly.

“Did you want to bury them?” Tom asked when silence had stretched between them, broken only by the cutting sounds of fabric.

Alex looked to where he’d dragged the bodies. “If you wish to.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“No,” he imagined their bodies left to wild animals and the spring elements. “I’d rather not, they don’t deserve it.”

“So be it, get together what you want. I’m riding out as soon as my clothes dry.”

“After lunch?”

The breeze was steady. “Yeah, after lunch.”

 

Tom kept a sharp eye on the boy but he could find little to criticize about Alex’s efforts. His sorting of the supplies was clever and skillful. The boy sorted out what he needed and packed up his things tightly. When Tom came back from breaking the stills and turning loose the pigs, Alex had both horses saddled and waiting in the yard. Tom’s freshly dried clothing was folded and tucked under one of the child’s arms and all of the boy’s things were tied to the horse and ready.

“Here sir.” Alex handed over the clothes. “And I found this.” He thrust out a leather pouch.

Tom took it and pulled it open, inside was a good sum of money, paper and hard coin. “Did you count it?”
“Eighty four dollars and twenty six cents, sir.”

Tom weighed the heavy purse and tossed it back to the child. “Figure you need that more than me.”

Alex caught it but his face screwed up unhappily. “I’ll leave it here than. I’m not a whore.”

“That wasn’t what I meant. Sure, they owe you for the wrong they’ve done but I didn’t mean it that way. You’re going to need things and this is a lot of money.” Tom tried not to snap at the boy.

“I’ll not touch their coin.” He dropped the pouch to the ground and moved to his horse.

Tom scooped the pouch from the ground and while muttering shoved it and his clothing away. He pulled himself up easily into the saddle and expected Alex to struggle to ride astride in the skirts he wore. Before he could suggest pants, the boy was in the saddle, the full skirt easily spacious enough to allow him to ride.

“Come on.” He guessed the direction to the road and set off to find it, he didn’t look back to see the three dead men laying out or the pretty boy following him.

 

Billy may have been slow, but he’d been well educated in his landscape. Going just from the scraps of information he’d given Tom, they found the road shortly before dark. Tom nodded, pleased that they had indeed appeared to have gone over the mountain instead of around it. If he’d been riding alone, he would have pressed on but the boy was failing.

Not that Alex had complained, in fact the child had been silent and if not for the sounds of his horse Tom would have thought the boy had turned back. He didn’t need to complain, Tom wasn’t sure how the boy had managed to do so much with how underfed and weakened he had to be. He refused to admire the boy or think about him with any affection, this was an obligation not to the child but to his own selfish pride. It was difficult enough looking himself in the eye while shaving now, it would impossible if he’d abandoned the boy.

“We’ll stop as soon as we reach a good spot.” Tom spoke for the first time all afternoon.

Alex sighed. “Okay.” He was so tired. There just hadn’t been any real chance to rest for weeks and he’d been so wound up with nervous tension for so long that it wasn’t until it was gone that he understood how much energy it consumed. He was simply exhausted and the half day’s ride had drained him.

As much as Tom searched, the first good place to camp for the night was a half hour down the trail. The sun was setting, lighting the sky up in pinks and reds when he slowed the horses to a stop. He slid from the saddle, stretching his legs out and glanced to the boy. Only, Alex’s chin was lolling against his chest, the reins were held in limp, relaxed hands, blonde lashes rested against the boy’s checks in soft slumber.

“I’m a damned fool, I can hear you laughing over this.” He muttered and untied the boy’s roll of blankets from behind his saddle.

They opened with a crisp flick of the wrist and once spread, Tom slid the child from the saddle. He was shocked again by how light the boy was and how soundly he could sleep. Alex stirred a little as Tom laid him on the blankets but if he woke it was only shallowly. He drew the blankets over the boy and went about making camp.

 

Tom shook the boy’s shoulder. The small fire he’d made burned cheerfully against the spring nighttime damp and the simple dinner he’d put together, while not fancy, was filling. It filled the breeze with it’s smell and wrapped a cheerful feel around them.

“No!” The boy started awake, fully awake, and slapped at the hand on his shoulder as he scurried to sit up.

“Supper’s ready, you fell asleep.” Tom explained simply, moving to scoop out the food from the pan.

“I’m sorry.”

Tom shrugged. “You were tired, there’s plenty, eat up.”

The boy served himself carefully, watching Tom across the fire as if he were some odd and maybe poisonous snake. They ate silently, the sound of the fire the only noise that cracked the spring insects and singing frogs.

“How’d you end up out here, boy?” Tom asked, watching the child carefully re-fill his plate with more food.

Alex shrugged. “The wind carries all things.” He answered vaguely.

“I don’t care how skinny you are, the wind didn’t blow you up here. Tell me.”

He frowned. “The truth isn’t kind, I try never to think about such things.”

“Tell me.” He was a bastard, there was no doubt about it now.

“My mama died of fever, the local preacher was the only one who knew I wasn’t a girl. He took me in seeing that I’ve no family. After a time, that caused trouble because people starting talking about what he was doing with the girl he’d taken in so he passed me off to a friend of his who was passing through. He wasn’t a nice man and one day we crossed paths with another man. This man was handsome and kind and I ran off with him but he wasn’t as kind as he seemed.” Alex smiled.

“He was still handsome though and kinder than most. He got himself killed, knifed, by a friend of his who took off with me. He bet me in a hand of poker that he lost which is how I ended up with that old man. He was going to go out west, said he had a daughter out there, and was taking me with him to keep him company on the trip. He promised he’d let me go when we got there.

“Well, after I run off a couple of times he got those shackles. Said they’d been worn by an old negro and they were sturdy. We were crossing the mountains and came up to the brother’s house. The old man didn’t trade me, they killed him. I weren’t sorry to see him gone but it just always seems to go from bad to worse.” His voice trailed off and he had to force himself to keep eating.

“Why didn’t you try to run off from the others?”

Alex shrugged. “You get beat enough times, you listen better. I didn’t fancy the others but they weren’t like that old man or those brothers. It weren’t bad, sometimes it was nice even. You know what I mean, you like men too, don’t you?”

Cocoa eyes caught Tom, so much older than the face they sat in. “Get some sleep. We’re riding out first thing.” Those eyes were too tempting, Tom turned over and settled into his blankets but sleep was a long time arriving.

 

Tom did everything he could to ignore his new traveling companion. They quickly fell into a pattern. Tom would wake up and the boy would be awake before him, both horses were already tended to and breakfast would have been started. He’d grumbled about being able to take care of himself and they’d eat. They’d ride in silence during the morning, stopping for a quick, cold lunch, again in silence before riding until close to sundown. Then, the boy would tend the horses again while Tom fixed dinner, which made Alex fuss about it being his place. They’d eat in silence, go to bed in silence and start over.

The distance was working, the boy was silent and Tom wasn’t nagged by temptation he didn’t need. That didn’t stop him from feeling guilty. As the days passed by slowly in his enforced silence, it became increasingly clear the boy wasn’t happy. He never complained but he’d sit and stare at nothing while he ate. Now that he was well rested he was starting awake several times a night, waking Tom even if the older man pretended to sleep. He watched as the days passed and Alex slipped further into his own thoughts, a place that didn’t seem very happy.

After over a week of the same pattern and the boy’s growing unease, Tom finally broke into it. They sat on a back trail, eating dinner , Alex’s eyes were distant and he’d already pulled a blanket over his shoulders even thought the night air wasn’t more than cool.

“We’ll have to take to main roads soon, we’re only a couple of days out of Owensboro.”

Alex only nodded.

“Can you really fool folks?” He’d gotten used to thinking of the boy as male. He didn’t see a pretty young girl but a beautiful young man, in a skirt.

“You’re a doctor and you thought I was a girl.”

“True. I don’t get it, is it that you want to be a girl?” It was a stupid question. Tom had known several men that liked to dress as women and had treated more than one solider that looked, fought, suffered as much as any man but when he’d pulled away the wool had found a woman underneath. He wanted the boy to talk, he wanted that worrisome distance to fade from the nut brown eyes.

“I like being a boy but this is comfortable.” He smiled thinly, mockingly. “I know, it must bother you.”

Tom pulled out his tobacco pouch and began filling his pipe. “Down in New Orleans, there’s a woman named Annie Mae. Six feet tall if she’s an inch, hair the color of carrots, wears only the finest fashions from Europe.” He lit the pipe with a brand from the fire, puffed on it a few times and got the leaves smoking. “Annie Mae grew up as Andrew Mark, she runs a brothel now. Only a handful of her clients know what she’s got under those silks. I doesn’t bother me in a little bit.”

“You’ve been to New Orleans?”

Tom nodded, oddly pleased to see some life and interest in the child.

“Is that where you’re going after you leave me in Memphis?”

“No, not so far south.”

“I’ve never been.”

“It’s a good place, the rebellion was tough on it but it’s pulling through. I haven’t been in years.” He blew out the fragrant smoke.

“I‘d like to see it, I‘ve never met anyone else like me.” A smile flashed across his face. “And silk dresses from Europe, I bet they’re lovely.”

Tom shook his head. “I wouldn’t know, I’m not a judge of ladies fashion. I don’t know how anyone gets around in skirts.”

“You should try it.” Alex teased, trying to picture the handsome man in a dress. “It feels so nice, the colors. I had a yellow dress once, the color of buttercups, made from fine linen.” The smile faded. “The man I ran off with, he sold it. He sold off anything I had of value, even the silver frame my mother’s picture was in. I got to keep the picture though and that’s all that mattered.” He forced another smile.

Tom wasn’t fooled, the brown eyes were bleak. “Those men didn’t have any right to treat you that way.”

“It happened, nothing I can do about it now.” Alex drew a breath and took a risk, there was one sure cure for feeling blue. “How about you doc? Got a wife and kids up north?”

“No.”

“Than how about some cute young man, sitting pining for you.”

Tom about choked on his smoke. “Are you always so blunt?”

Alex leaned forward, letting the blanket slide off his shoulders. “Only when I want something.” The tip of a pink tongue slipped out to wet lips that weren’t dry.

“No, there’s no one missing me.” Tom answered softly, his eyes lingering over that lovely face. “Why are you doing this?”

The smile that played on Alex’s lips was playful. “I want you to like me.”

“I like you just fine, you don’t need to whore yourself.”

The harsh words didn’t phase him, he’d been called worse. “What if I want to be a whore to you.” He whispered out. Riding behind the other man all day, watching his straight back and sure manner, Alex had never had that sort before and he was hungry to see what it would be like.

Tom forgot how to speak, the pipe was clutched in his hand but he didn’t feel it. He was so hard he had to shift how he was sitting, spreading his legs a little bit, to ease the tightness in his pants.

With slow, graceful movements, Alex reached behind him and pulled the tie from his hair. He ran his fingers into the thick curls, letting the length spring loose to fall in wild disarray about his face. Tom’s grey eyes were smoky and he felt them on his skin, drinking in every move. Alex drew a hand across the side of his face and down his neck and heard Tom’s breathing grow short.

“I’ve been thinking about you.” Alex whispered. “All the time.” His hand slid down over the high collar of his blouse. “You’ve been thinking about me too. That’s why you’ve been ignoring me.”

“You’re just a kid.” Tom’s voice shook.

“Don’t let how I look fool you, I’m no child.” The blanket fell from around him and he stood. He had no petticoats to wear, the skirt was thin and worn and there was no hiding the growing hardness under the long fabric. He watched as Tom’s eyes fell to his groin and smiled at the look of pain that crossed the older man’s face.

The fabric swirled around his hips as he walked the few paces around the fire to stand near where Tom sat, entranced. “Skirts have plenty of advantages over pants, they hide so much and yet,” he hitched up the hem just far enough to show the slender curve of his lower leg. “They can show so much.”

Tom’s hands curled into fists, the pipe forgotten. It wasn’t even like he’d never seen the boy’s legs yet but there was something so enticing about the small flashes of skin. All the conversations he’d over heard from other men about accidentally catching a glimpse of a woman’s ankle under her skirt and how erotic it was to see suddenly made tremendous sense. He wanted to grab the boy, pull him into his lap and run his hands up those slender legs, under the thin fabric.

The exposed leg extended and a bare foot pushed Tom’s ankles apart. Alex knelt down to sit between the older man’s knees, the game was going well. There wasn’t a man alive he couldn’t seduce, if he liked girls, Alex was a girl, if he liked boys, well, that was so much more fun. There was no doubt which Tom preferred.

He soothed the fabric of his skirt over his folded legs. “I’ve been very immodest lately, I haven’t been wearing bloomers. There’s nothing under this skirt but me.”

“This isn’t funny.” Tom’s breath was too fast, his heart was racing. The kid was playing him like a fiddle, he was hitting every erotic nerve.

“I’m not teasing you.” Alex rose his ass from where it had been sitting on his heels and leaned forward. Tom didn’t pull away but he hadn’t reached out either. Alex was used to most men being on him almost as soon as he’d started. This was okay, he knew how to break the cold composure of the doctor.

He leaned closer, his lips growing closer to Tom’s and a strong hand buried itself in his hair. Not quite pulling but not controlled and careful, Alex let the grip pull his head to the side slightly, he closed his eyes to slits. The fingers tightened in his hair and he moaned softly. When his eyes locked on Tom’s gray, they were hungry. He drew his lips close again, not quite touching the thinner pair below his own.

“I’m going to kiss you.” He whispered, the words and his breath brushing in teasing contact when his lips weren’t.

Tom pulled his hand from the soft curls and gripped the boy’s still far too thin shoulder. With the last bit of his will he pushed that shoulder away and Alex stumbled backwards, falling hard on his tailbone. The moment had been seized, Tom stood up and stared down at the confused and slightly hurt look on the boy’s face.

“I told you. I don’t bed children. Don’t do that again.” He felt a muscle in his jaw twitching but he didn’t stay around to debate the issue. Before Alex could react, he’d headed off into the woods carried on angry strides.

He didn’t care where he went so long as it was away. Tom stumbled through the woods, tripping on night shadowed rocks and fallen limps, hurrying a hundred, than two or three paces away from the fire before slowing and continuing deeper. When he finally stopped, the fire wasn’t in sight and he collapsed with his back to a tree and covered his face with his hands.

For the first time in three years he felt like weeping but that was quickly swallowed up in anger. He grew angry at the boy for being so damned sexy, and worse for knowing how sexy he was. He was angry at himself for reacting and getting so aroused, angry that he almost crossed a line. Most of all, he was angry at Sam for leaving him. He’d never been in such ridiculous situations when Sam had been at his side.

From deep in his pocket, Tom pulled out a small tin case and popped it open. He’d been dragged to have the photo taken, grumbling and moaning the entire way. Sam had laughed at him and then told the photographer that they were cousins but the two men in the tin type in his hand didn’t look a thing alike.

One side of the case was the two of them, Sam standing behind a younger, unhappy looking Tom, a hand protectively on his shoulder. Tom’s hair was cut short, just brushing the tops of his ears but Sam had always worn his hair to his collar. The other picture was Sam alone, closer up so it was just his face. The small smile, a smirk really, that he always wore was present, as if he knew some joke no one else did. His light brown hair was combed back from his face and teased the back of his neck. He hadn’t been the most handsome of men, even Tom was willing to admit that, but his personality had been stunning. He’d stolen Tom’s heart with that silly smirk and never given it back.

The case snapped shut and Tom pressed the cold metal to his forehead. “Damned fool, running away from a skinny boy.” But he was really cursing Sam, where ever he might be.

Tom lost track of just how long he hid out in the darkness. His butt had fallen asleep from sitting still for so long and the raging desire that had burned his blood had faded. When he finally returned to the camp, the fire was burning low. Alex was asleep, wrapped in blankets and looking innocent, a look Tom didn’t believe for a moment.

He fed the fire a bit to chase away the night chill and pulled open his own blankets. Inside, sitting nestled safely, was his pipe. It had been tamped out and cleaned. Tom picked it up and wondered if the boy had done so because he felt it was his job or in some small apology for the attempted seduction. Neither motivation made him very happy and he glanced to the sleeping boy again as he tucked the pipe away. When he laid down, he looked forward to slipping away in sleep and forgetting the situation for a few hours.

Sleep was a traitorous friend. Tom knew he was dreaming, he had to be. Sam’s soft breath was on his neck. Moist, hot lips were teasing his earlobe, Sam always knew how much he hated that and always went for the oversensitive spot. A warm voice chuckled against his skin and a body, long and lean pressed into his. Hips rubbed teasingly into his own, hard erection throbbed along hard erection.

“Sam?”

“Shhh.”

The mouth was kissing his belly. He couldn’t recall when he’d stripped naked but he was. The hands that fluttered over his skin didn’t leave him enough time to think about when or how. It had been so long, he’d missed the other man so much. His breath caught in his throat when sharp teeth nipped his hip bone. Those same hips arched up when the teasing mouth slipped around his aching cock, wet, velvety perfection.

“Oh, God, Sam,” He reached out as he had a hundred times before. Needing to feel the soft, fine hair sliding like silk between his fingers, needing to connect with the amazing man that could make him feel so much. The hair that tangled around his hand wasn’t fine, it wasn’t loosely wavy.

Tom opened his eyes and it wasn’t laughing hazel that met his but rich warm brown. The hair around his fingers wasn’t light brown but sunshine blonde. The thick curls wove around his grasp, the length spilled around his hand and down the slender back.

“Sam!” Tom cried out, startled and now coldly awake. He was hoping he hadn’t actually voiced the name but a glance to the other blanket wrapped shape told him he had. Sleepy, brown eyes locked with his for a moment before lazily shutting. Tom bundled himself back up and rolled over, putting his back to the boy. This time, sleep took forever to arrive.