Fizz?”
Flynn shook his head. “I don’t think they have anything like that here.”
“No. Prohibition’s spoiled everything.”
When the waitress came back, Flynn ordered two Juniper Jennies, which were gin and tonics by any
other name.
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The Dark Farewell
Flynn watched the small back door of the bar and noticed a tall, short-skirted lady open a door in the partitioned area and smile over her shoulder at the young man who followed her in and closed the door behind. He didn’t doubt stairs in there led up to the former hayloft. They were making hay all right, though it was doubtful any bales remained.
The thought of sex with Julian caused heat to pool in his belly, made his groin ache.
He looked across the table and Julian was watching him steadily with those dark and knowing eyes.
Julian smiled and turned his gaze back to the dance band.
Their drinks arrived and they sipped them, Flynn with sudden and uncharacteristic self-consciousness.
It was increasingly warm inside the barn as people got up to dance. Half the men were in their
shirtsleeves by now, and Flynn loosened his tie and slipped out of his jacket, hanging it on the back of his chair.
Julian raised eyebrows at this lack of decorum.
“Half the fellas in this place have their jackets off,” Flynn observed.
The people around them seemed like a cross-section—although there were no old people—an even
mix of middle-aged couples and bright-eyed kids. Some of them, especially the girls, looked way too young to have been served hooch in a saloon, but nobody was asking questions at the Dance and Dine Inn.
Scattered here and there were a few single guys hoping to meet the girl of their dreams or getting up the nerve to shell out cash to the ladies of the evening casually strolling about or demurely seated by twos and threes near the edge of the room.
Flynn could easily pass for such young men. Julian…Flynn glanced across the table. Julian was
staring alertly at the crowded dance floor as though these were the fascinating customs of South Sea Islanders.
Flynn felt an odd surge of emotion. Amusement? Affection? He wasn’t sure.
A muted cornet sang out over the chattering crowd, and a good imitation of Paul Whiteman’s version
of “If I Could Be With You” rang off the rafters of the old barn.
The drinks were strong and the music was good but suddenly Flynn was wondering what the hell they
were doing there.
Julian sipped his drink. His lashes lifted and he gave Flynn such a direct, naked look that Flynn’s
heart seemed to leap and then seize.
A scream—more of a squeal—broke the spell. Flynn spotted two young men at the edge of the dance
floor flailing away at each other. Close by was a would-be vamp in a red dress wringing her hands and yelling at them.
Before the knights errant could do much damage, two rough-looking country boys in their first ties
and jackets came sailing across the empty dance floor and yanked the combatants apart.
www.samhainpublishing.com
59
Josh Lanyon
One of the portly Saint Louis-type gangsters, cigar clamped tightly between his teeth, joined them,
and it was clear even from across the tables what was happening.
Flynn opened his mouth and Julian said, “Yes. Let’s go.”
Flynn shrugged back into his jacket, and they made their way through the crowded tables.
The tenor on the bandstand started a song made familiar to Flynn from the war. A few of the boys at
the tables began to sing. That impromptu male chorus sent a funny chill down his spine as he and Julian strolled out through the wide doorway into the warm moonlight. The voices faded behind them.
There’s a long, long trail a-winding
Into the land of my dreams,
Where the nightingale is singing
And the pale moon beams.
There’s a long, long night of waiting
Until my dreams all come true,
Till the day when I’ll be going down
That long, long trail with you.
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Chapter
Flynn shook his head. “I don’t think they have anything like that here.”
“No. Prohibition’s spoiled everything.”
When the waitress came back, Flynn ordered two Juniper Jennies, which were gin and tonics by any
other name.
58
www.samhainpublishing.com
The Dark Farewell
Flynn watched the small back door of the bar and noticed a tall, short-skirted lady open a door in the partitioned area and smile over her shoulder at the young man who followed her in and closed the door behind. He didn’t doubt stairs in there led up to the former hayloft. They were making hay all right, though it was doubtful any bales remained.
The thought of sex with Julian caused heat to pool in his belly, made his groin ache.
He looked across the table and Julian was watching him steadily with those dark and knowing eyes.
Julian smiled and turned his gaze back to the dance band.
Their drinks arrived and they sipped them, Flynn with sudden and uncharacteristic self-consciousness.
It was increasingly warm inside the barn as people got up to dance. Half the men were in their
shirtsleeves by now, and Flynn loosened his tie and slipped out of his jacket, hanging it on the back of his chair.
Julian raised eyebrows at this lack of decorum.
“Half the fellas in this place have their jackets off,” Flynn observed.
The people around them seemed like a cross-section—although there were no old people—an even
mix of middle-aged couples and bright-eyed kids. Some of them, especially the girls, looked way too young to have been served hooch in a saloon, but nobody was asking questions at the Dance and Dine Inn.
Scattered here and there were a few single guys hoping to meet the girl of their dreams or getting up the nerve to shell out cash to the ladies of the evening casually strolling about or demurely seated by twos and threes near the edge of the room.
Flynn could easily pass for such young men. Julian…Flynn glanced across the table. Julian was
staring alertly at the crowded dance floor as though these were the fascinating customs of South Sea Islanders.
Flynn felt an odd surge of emotion. Amusement? Affection? He wasn’t sure.
A muted cornet sang out over the chattering crowd, and a good imitation of Paul Whiteman’s version
of “If I Could Be With You” rang off the rafters of the old barn.
The drinks were strong and the music was good but suddenly Flynn was wondering what the hell they
were doing there.
Julian sipped his drink. His lashes lifted and he gave Flynn such a direct, naked look that Flynn’s
heart seemed to leap and then seize.
A scream—more of a squeal—broke the spell. Flynn spotted two young men at the edge of the dance
floor flailing away at each other. Close by was a would-be vamp in a red dress wringing her hands and yelling at them.
Before the knights errant could do much damage, two rough-looking country boys in their first ties
and jackets came sailing across the empty dance floor and yanked the combatants apart.
www.samhainpublishing.com
59
Josh Lanyon
One of the portly Saint Louis-type gangsters, cigar clamped tightly between his teeth, joined them,
and it was clear even from across the tables what was happening.
Flynn opened his mouth and Julian said, “Yes. Let’s go.”
Flynn shrugged back into his jacket, and they made their way through the crowded tables.
The tenor on the bandstand started a song made familiar to Flynn from the war. A few of the boys at
the tables began to sing. That impromptu male chorus sent a funny chill down his spine as he and Julian strolled out through the wide doorway into the warm moonlight. The voices faded behind them.
There’s a long, long trail a-winding
Into the land of my dreams,
Where the nightingale is singing
And the pale moon beams.
There’s a long, long night of waiting
Until my dreams all come true,
Till the day when I’ll be going down
That long, long trail with you.
60
www.samhainpublishing.com
Chapter
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