Chapter 15

Jared shifted restlessly on the hard wooden chair, scowling fiercely at the shaft of sunlight highlighting the logs in front of him. It wasn't fair!

"Sit still, Jared," Ethan ordered calmly from across the room, and the young man sighed a deep, audible, slightly indignant sigh.

It wasn't fair! It had been almost a month since he'd been hurt and he was sick and tired of being stuck in bed. And there wasn't any reason for it! Maybe his knee wasn't well enough to chop wood or work with the horses or even to go outside, but he could do his part inside. They had been doing exercises to strengthen it and he was sure he could hobble from the bed to the table or chair and back, if only Ethan would let him. And he could do a lot of stuff one-handed, even more if Ethan would only loosen the bandages a little. But, no! Doc Baker had said don't walk on the leg, don't use the arm, and Ethan was bound and determined to follow those orders until the doctor came back and said otherwise. And God only knew when Doc was going to have time to come all this way and check on him again! He could be stuck in that bed for years! He kicked the wall mutinously.

"You know, little boy," Ethan commented from his seat at the table, "it would be difficult to spank you with your arm strapped across your chest like that, but not impossible. You keep it up and we'll figure out how real fast."

That figured, Jared thought bitterly. Ethan couldn't think of anything to help him be more active or useful, but when it came to punishment he was the most inventive man on earth. He folded his good arm across his chest and glared at the wall. His dark thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the mares in the pasture as they scented a strange horse and began trotting along the fence, whickering and calling to it. He tensed, his fist clenched, muscles tightening involuntarily.

"Ethan?" he whispered apprehensively, discord temporarily forgotten.

"It's all right, little boy," the older man replied reassuringly, getting up to look out the window and recognizing the horse coming up the road. "It's only Dash. Let's get you back into bed, all right?"

He helped Jared get settled back on the bed, then got his hat and coat and stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. The late morning air was crisp and cold but the sky was clear and the sun shone brightly, a change from the series of small storms they'd been having. Snow from the latest storm still streaked the yard and lay drifted in the shade but there were rich brown patches of earth showing through on both the road and the path to the barn. As the sheriff rode into the yard, Ethan could see that the horse was splashed with mud to his knees and Dash was liberally daubed with it as well.

"Morning, Dash," Ethan said as the man rode up. "What brings you out this way?"

"I'm on my way back from Marston," the other man replied. "I delivered a prisoner to the federal marshal there yesterday. Since I had to pass by here on the way back, I thought I'd drop in and see how everything is going."

Ethan made a face and Dash laughed. "That well, huh?"

"Put your horse up and stay for dinner," Ethan invited. "My cooking isn't as good as Jared's, but it's edible."

"Don't mind if I do. Breakfast was a long time ago," the sheriff replied as he swung down from his big gray gelding. "So Jared's giving you some grief?" he continued as they walked to the barn.

"He did real well right after Christmas," Ethan sighed. "Fox and Gideon were able to come over and he had new things to keep him entertained. But he's fretting to be active again now and I swear I don't know what mischief he's going to think up next. And he's so irritable there's no living with him."

"How's he healing?"

Ethan chose an empty stall and put an armful of hay into the manger, then poured a ration of grain in on top of it as Dash unsaddled the gray and began wiping the mud from its legs. "Not too bad. The infection is gone. The cut Doc made is all but healed, and the gunshot wound is healed over but the skin is still pretty thin."

Dash nodded, familiar with the process. More like a deep burn than a cut, the wound had to form new skin, not just knit old skin back together as it had in the knife cut on his back. The area would be tender and fragile, susceptible to re-injury, for a long time. "How's the collarbone and knee?" he asked as he led the horse into the stall and turned it loose.

"I don't know," Ethan admitted. He hung a bucket of water on a nail and closed the stall door. "The collarbone seems to be mended, but I don't want him to use the arm until Doc can take a look at it. The knee is better, but it's a long way from healed."

They walked back to the house together, and Dash hung his hat and coat on the rack before stretching his hands out before the crackling fire. "Ahh, that feels good," he commented. "How are you doing, Jared?"

"Pretty good. But I'd be better if Doc Baker would come so I could get out of this bed," he added with a dark glower.

"Jared," Ethan warned as he dumped biscuit dough on the scarred wooden table and started patting it out. "Don't start."

"Sorry," the young man apologized repentantly. "What's new in town, Dash?"

"Not a whole lot," the sheriff replied. He sat down in the rocker and stretched his legs out in front of him with a sigh. "The Frasiers are packing it in and moving back to his folks in Ohio. Estelle has a new girl working for her. They're having a dance at the schoolhouse Saturday night." He continued to share the town gossip with them while Ethan put the biscuits in the oven and fried ham and eggs to go with them.

"Dinner's ready," Ethan announced. While Dash washed up he helped Jared over to the table and cut up his food for him.

"How's Doc Baker doing?" the young man asked casually once they were all seated at the table together.

"He's been run off his feet, lately," the sheriff replied. He took a large bite of ham and took time to chew and swallow before going on. "Seems like half the town has either been hurt or sick in bed. And the weather has been so unsettled that he doesn't dare get too far from town, in case he can't get back."

"So that means he won't be out any time soon," the young man said glumly.

"Why don't you come into town?" Dash suggested to Ethan. "Doc can take a look at Jared, Estelle would love to see him and fuss over him a bit, and you can come to the dance on Saturday night."

"That's a great idea!" Jared approved enthusiastically. "Can we do it, Ethan? Please?"

"Whoa, wait a minute," Ethan said, getting up to pour more coffee. "First, we have Doc's problem in reverse. We have stock to take care of. We can't chance getting stuck in town during a snowstorm. And second, how are we going to get you there? You can't ride and it's too cold for you to be out, anyway. Your coat was ruined when you were shot, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess we'll just have to wait until the weather is good enough for Doc to come out here then." Jared sighed and pushed his plate back, no longer hungry.

"Now, wait," Dash said, touched by the forlorn look on the young man's face. "Jared can't ride, but what if you made a bed for him in the back of the wagon? You could wrap him up good and put hot bricks in with him and he'd stay warm enough."

"We still can't leave the stock," Jared replied sadly.

"What about Fox?" Dash asked. "They don't have much stock, do they? Maybe they'd be willing to ride over every day, or even stay here while you're gone. It would only be 3-4 days."

Ethan hesitated. "I hate to ask them for any more favors after all they've done for us."

"Maybe we can make a trade," Jared suggested eagerly. "I know they didn't get in as many supplies as they'd wanted to and Fox didn't want to make another trip to town right away. Maybe they'd be willing to stay here if we pick up supplies for them."

"We'll see," Ethan replied noncommittally. "What's happening with those outlaws, Dash? Do you think you got the whole gang this time?"

"I think we have. And even if we haven't, with Barstow dead, there's nobody else strong enough to take up the leadership. The ones we don't have in custody will quietly drift away." Dash deftly picked up the change in conversation and the rest of the meal was spent in an easy discussion of other topics.

"Do you think Fox and Gideon would do chores for us?" Jared returned to the subject as they prepared for bed that night.

"I don't know," Ethan replied as he unbuttoned Jared's shirt - actually one of his - and eased it over his shoulder. "We'll have to ask them. Stand up, little boy."

Jared stood, taking most of his weight on his good leg and resting his hand on Ethan's shoulder for balance. "I think they might. Gideon likes our cabin and it would be kind of like a vacation for them, too. Right?"

"I don't know. We'll have to ask them," Ethan repeated as he slid Jared's pants and long johns down over his hips. "Sit, please."

Jared sat, his mind still on the trip to town. "We could stay at Ma Bryson's. And we should make a list of supplies to pick up as long as we're going to be in town anyway. We're running low on a few things, too."

"Whoa, Jared," Ethan told him. "I haven't talked to Fox yet." He maneuvered the pants and long johns past the bulky bandage around Jared's knee and pulled them off, then helped Jared swing his feet onto the bed and settle back against the pillows. "Don't go counting your chickens before they're hatched."

"But you think they'll do it, right?" Jared asked as the older man barred the door and banked the fires.

"I don't know, Jared. I'll ride over and ask them tomorrow," Ethan repeated patiently. He undressed and blew out the lamp before crawling into bed behind Jared and pulling the quilts over them.

"I think they'll do it," Jared said confidently as he carefully turned on his side and eased back against Ethan.

Ethan tried to keep the impatience out of his voice. "Jared, it’s late. Let’s talk about the trip tomorrow, all right?"

"All right. I’m sorry."

"We’ll talk about it tomorrow," Ethan assured him again.

A few minutes later, drifting on the edge of sleep, he was jerked awake by the sound of Jared’s voice.

"I think they'll do it, though."

"Jared!" Ethan sighed, now wide-awake. "I thought we agreed to talk about this tomorrow?"

"I'm sorry," Jared replied repentantly. "I was just laying here thinking about it and it slipped-- OH!" his explanation was cut off as Ethan’s hand snaked over him and gently teased one of his nipples. He laughed breathlessly. "What are you doing? I thought you were tired."

"I'm trying to give you something to think about other than a trip to town," Ethan replied matter-of-factly, his smile clear in his voice. He continued to lightly tease the exposed nipples, quickly bringing them to small tight points.

"Oh," Jared repeated. "So if I keep talking, you’ll keep trying to distract me?"

Ethan leaned forward to gently kiss his bare shoulder. "Yes," he replied simply.

"So, do you think... Fox and Gideon would... be willing to come stay?" Jared’s question came out in a series of gasps as he tried to squirm away from Ethan’s other hand, now running down his side, lightly tickling, making his skin quiver.

The older man didn’t answer as he continued his exploration of his partner’s body, planting small, butterfly kisses on the bare skin.

Jared’s squirming did little except to cause the quilts to slide down, exposing even more of him to Ethan’s eyes and fingers. "Do you think they'll want to stay here or just come over for chores?" he managed to get out. "Ethan, stop! It *tickles*!"

Pulling Jared close so that he was lying almost spooned directly in front of him, Ethan gently stroked the bare butt and the younger man groaned softly, arching his back and opening himself up to the exploring fingers.

"Hush," Ethan ordered softly, stopping and giving the bottom a small pat just before his fingers dipped into the opening cleft. Turning over, he snagged the oil kept on the chest by the bed, quickly uncorking the bottle and pouring a small amount into the palm of his hand, allowing it to warm slightly before spreading it on his hardening cock. He replaced the bottle on the chest and turned back to his partner, pulling him close again.

Jared bit down on his lip, trying to stay quiet as the fingers began to move again. Reaching down, he started stroking his own cock in rhythm with Ethan’s fingers.

Ethan smiled at the soft contented sounds his lover was making and positioned himself behind the younger man, the tip of his penis barely touching his lover’s opening. "I said hush," he whispered, punctuated by a soft nip on the back of his neck.

Jared tried to wiggle back against Ethan, but the big man's hand held him firmly in place. "Please,

Ethan" he begged, frustrated by the continued lack of movement.

"Hush, little boy. I’m not going to say it again."

"What if I don't? Jared asked mischievously. "Will you do something else if I keep talking?" He turned his head to look back at his lover. "So, do you think …" The rest of his question was cut of as Ethan roughly kissed him until he couldn't breathe.

As Ethan ended the kiss, he leaned in and whispered softly in Jared's ear, "Do you think you can hush now?"

Jared nodded. "For that kind of reward, I can," he agreed breathlessly.

"Brat," Ethan said with a laugh, kissing him again. Pulling back from the kiss, he cut off Jared’s protest by sliding deep inside of him with one smooth hard thrust.

Ready for the invasion, Jared’s body allowed the hard cock to slide home with little resistance. His breath caught for a minute, as he adjusted to the almost overwhelming sensation of fullness. A moment later, he began to move slightly, allowing Ethan’s cock to rub against his prostate.

Putting one hand on Jared’s waist, the older man kept his movements slow so that each stroke left Jared moaning with pleasure and attempting to thrust back eagerly. The restraining hand on his waist, keeping him still, only added to his growing frustration and arousal. "Lie still," Ethan ordered softly. "We have all night." Gently nipping at the sweaty neck in front of him, he buried himself fully into his partner, and then slowly withdrew before repeating the motion.

"God, Ethan, move!" Jared moaned. Unable to reach back or break Ethan's grip on his waist, he used his good hand to stroke himself and, rapidly losing himself in the overwhelming sensations, gave a soft cry as he came. Feeling the tightening of Jared's muscles surrounding his cock, Ethan gave four hard thrusts and, with a low groan, shot deep into his lover.

A short while later, cleaned up and spooned together again, Ethan listened to his lover's deep, quiet breathing with satisfaction. He'd have to try this method of distraction more often, he thought drowsily. It definitely had its advantages.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"So are you going to talk to them now?" Jared asked as soon as Ethan came in from doing chores the next morning.

"No, I'm going to make breakfast now," Ethan replied. What he didn't say was that he had some reservations about this trip. It would be a long, cold ordeal for Jared, even with a bed in the back of the wagon. The road was rough and rutted and he was going to be jolted and jostled about. He was afraid the young man was going to be tired and sore long before they got to town, and that was if the weather cooperated. He didn't even want to think about snow, or even worse, rain.

On the other hand, he could sympathize with Jared's desire to get out of the cabin for a while and to see some of his old friends. As he looked at the eager, happy face, he didn't have the heart to say they couldn't go.

He thought about it off and on as he made breakfast and did some cleaning around the cabin, worked with the stock a little, and brought in wood. He'd go over and talk to Fox, he finally decided. They might not be able to come take care of the stock or the weather might turn bad, and it would be out of his hands. And if everything worked out, he'd take it as meant, and they'd go and have a good time.

"Jared, I'm leaving now," he said a little while later. "I'll only be gone a couple of hours."

"All right," Jared replied, looking up from his card game. He was in his customary position on the bed, leaning up against the pillows, an extra pillow under his knee, and his cards laid out on the board across his lap.

"You have your book, your slate and pencil, and your cards. You've had your tea, there's water on the chest next to the bed, and I added some biscuits and jam in case you get hungry."

"Yes, Ethan."

"Don't get crumbs in the sheets or jam on the quilt."

"Yes, Ethan."

"I've built up the fire and put extra wood next to it. That should hold you until I get back."

"Yes, Ethan. I'll be fine."

"Stay in bed. I don't want you getting up unless you need to use the chamber pot or put wood on the fire. Understand?"

"Yes, Ethan."

"Or if you hear someone coming. Then you get up long enough to bar the door."

"Yes, Ethan."

"But I don't want you putting weight on that leg otherwise."

"Ethan!" Jared exclaimed. "You're only going to be gone two hours, not two days! Would you go already?"

"Yes, Jared," Ethan mimicked with a laugh. He opened the door, then paused and went back to the side of the bed. "I love you, little boy," he said, bending down and kissing the younger man good-bye.

"I love you too, Ethan," Jared told him, returning the kiss and adding an awkward hug. "And yes, I'll behave while you're gone!" He laughed as he forestalled the next comment.

"I'll see you in a couple of hours," Ethan said with a chuckle

After Ethan left, Jared prepared himself for the long wait. He practiced his math skills by dividing the time in his mind, figuring out what time Ethan should arrive at the other cabin, how long he would spend there, and when he should be leaving for home. Then he divided his activities up. He'd play cards until Ethan arrived, do his schoolwork while they visited, and eat his biscuits and read his primer while the older man was on the way home.

It was hard to keep his mind on his cards, though. It had been so long since he'd been in town. He wondered how much it had changed. Would there be a lot of new buildings? How many people had left and how many new people would be there? Would the girls at Estelle's remember him? What supplies should they get? And he hadn't spent all the reward money on Christmas presents. What should he buy with the rest of it?

When he realized that he'd placed his cards black on black three times in a row, he gave up. Stacking the deck neatly to one side, he pulled his slate over and began a grocery list, sounding out the words as best he could.

They had enough flour and beans, but they could use more canned milk. Maybe they should just give in and buy a cow. He probably had enough reward money left for a cow. And they could make butter and cheese, too. He liked cheese. What else? They could use more salt, since he'd spilled part of the last bag. Maybe they could get a pig. Salt pork was good in a lot of dishes and they could smoke the hams. Did he have enough money for a cow and a pig? Canned peaches. Ethan liked canned peaches so they went through a lot of them. Maybe they should buy fruit trees. Was canning hard? And maybe they should get more sugar. Once Doc Baker looked at his shoulder he could start baking again.

After a half hour of diligent writing, he leaned back and absent-mindedly ate a biscuit while he surveyed his list.

milk

cow

cheez

sallt

pig

peechs

trees

seeds

shuger

sinmin

mlassess

He tapped his pencil against his teeth thoughtfully and added one last item. 'Soks'. All of Ethan's had holes in the toes.

He set the slate to one side and ate another biscuit, tidily wiping the crumbs away when he was done, and then looking guiltily at the large dollop of jam on the quilt. Oops. He swiped it up on his index finger and licked it off, then wet a corner of the sheet and scrubbed at the spot until it was gone. Or at least blended in with the pattern of the quilt block. More or less. He glared at the offending splotch for a moment, and then shrugged philosophically. Oh well, it was hardly noticeable unless you knew where to look. And it would probably look better after it dried.

The sudden thud of boots on the porch interrupted his thoughts. Hell! He hadn't gotten up to bar the door! His frantic search for a reachable weapon was halted by a familiar voice.

"It's me, little boy. Did you behave yourself while I was gone?"

Jared sagged back against the pillows in relief. "You're early," he croaked as the door swung open to reveal his partner. "Did they say yes?"

"No, I'm not. I'm right on time," Ethan replied, stepping into the room and removing his coat. "Jared, it's freezing in here! You're going to catch a chill. Didn't you add wood to the fire?"

"No. I guess I got busy and didn't notice." Jared shivered, suddenly realizing he was cold, and slid down to huddle under the quilts. "Did they say yes?" he poked his head out to ask.

Ethan swiftly built up the fire and then removed his chilly clothing and got under the covers as well, pulling Jared to him and enveloping the younger man in his body heat.

"What did they say?" Jared repeated persistently, leaning back into Ethan, savoring the older man's warmth.

"They said yes. They'll be here early Friday morning. Easy!" he cautioned with a laugh as the young man bounced excitedly against him. "Don't hurt yourself. Day after tomorrow," he anticipated the next question.

"Thanks. I lose track," Jared admitted. "Oh, I started making a list of supplies." He snaked one hand out from under the covers and snagged the slate, holding it so Ethan could read over his shoulder.

"I see. Very good," Ethan approved, his lips twitching at some of the spelling. "I have a few things to add and then you can reprint it on paper and we'll take it to town with us."

Thursday night, Ethan helped Jared bathe, then wrapped him in a quilt and set him in the rocker by the fire.

"I don't know if we should go to the dance," Jared said as the older man roughly toweled his hair.

"Why not?" Ethan asked, running a comb through the silky blond hair.

"I don't know. Maybe they won't want us."

"They'll want us," Ethan told him confidently. "And I think you'll enjoy it. Cover up for a minute."

As Jared pulled the quilt tightly around himself, Ethan hoisted himself through the trapdoor into the attic and tossed down a dusty carpetbag, then jumped down and pulled the door closed again. He dusted the bag off and set it next to the bed, then started laying out the clothing they would be taking with them. After he had everything else laid out, he knelt by the chest and got out a package carefully wrapped in paper.

"Is that what you're wearing to the dance?" Jared asked him.

"Yes, it is," Ethan replied, unwrapping a fine black broadcloth suit.

"I don't have a suit. I guess I'd better not go."

"We'll get you one," his partner told him firmly. "I'm sure Carson's Mercantile has some ready-made ones that will fit you."

"What if it doesn't?"

"Then you can wear your best pants and shirt. Not everyone there will have a suit on." He packed his suit into the carpetbag along with the rest of their clothes.

Jared continued to think about it as Ethan dumped the dirty water, refilled the tub, and took his own bath.

"I guess we can go, if you think it's all right," he said at last, watching appreciatively as Ethan stepped out of the tub and dried off in front of the fire.

"Good. I'm glad you agree," Ethan told him, going to hang his towel over a chair back to dry. "Now, are you ready to go to bed?"

"Oh yeah," Jared agreed whole-heartedly, unconsciously running his tongue over his lower lip as Ethan turned to face him. "More than ready."

Friday morning dawned clear and cold. Jared was awake well before daylight, but lay as still as he could so he wouldn't wake Ethan. He didn't want anything to spoil this day. He tried to be patient while Ethan changed his bandages and helped him dress in warm clothing, and while they ate breakfast and Ethan packed a lunch for their trip. He couldn't help sighing, though, when Ethan settled him in the rocker by the fire, then sat down in his own chair and picked up a book.

"Shouldn't you go hitch up the wagon?" he asked anxiously.

"Not yet, little boy," the older man replied. "I'll do it when they get here."

Jared drummed his fingers on the arm of the rocker, then stopped guiltily at Ethan's look. "What about making the bed in the wagon?"

"I filled it with straw already and the blankets are warming by the stove."

"Did you pack my clean shirts?" he asked next. "And my cards? And our book?"

"Yes, I packed everything. It's in the satchel by the door. And it sounds like they're here." Ethan gave his own sigh of relief as he heard the approaching wagon. "I'm going to go help Fox put their stock in the barn and hitch up the wagon. You stay put until I get back. You can tell Gideon where things are, but don't get up and show him."

"Yes, Ethan," Jared replied obediently. He wasn't going to do anything to make Ethan change his mind at this point. "How long do you think it will take?" he added anxiously. "It's getting late. We should be leaving soon."

"It isn't that late and it won't take that long. We'll still be to town by mid-afternoon." He put his coat and hat on and stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

Jared remained in his chair, waiting impatiently for what seemed like an eternity before he heard the lighter footsteps of Gideon on the porch.

"Hey, Jared," the young man said as he came into the room. "Ethan's almost got the wagon ready." He put two bundles down on the table and took his coat off. "I wanted to say good luck at the doc's."

"Hi, Gideon. Thanks. It's good to see you," Jared replied with a grin. "I'm glad you're over your cold. How does the rug look on your floor?" he asked, referring to the bearskin rug that he and Ethan had given them for Christmas.

"It looks good. Except for the head. And the teeth. Did Ethan have to make it snarl like that?" he asked half-jokingly. "And I swear, those eyes follow me around the room!"

"Just face it away from you," Jared advised. "And keep thinking about how much warmer it is than the bare floor."

"That's what I do," Gideon laughed, as he wandered around the room aimlessly, picking things up and setting them down again.

"Thanks for staying here, too. It's been such a long time since I've been to town. I feel kind of bad that you don't get to go, though," he added with a frown.

"I don't really like town, though. Too many people," Gideon said with a small shudder. "And this way I get to stay in a nice cabin with a roof that doesn't leak. Our place still needs a lot of work." He fingered the bright quilt on the bed wistfully. "Damien says next winter will be better."

"It will be. I think you know where everything is, or if not you can find it easy enough," Jared said, his mind skipping to the next subject. "If you need clean linens or towels they're in the chest under the window and all the food supplies are either in the pantry or the cellar. Use whatever you want. The wood box is full and Ethan emptied the ash bucket this morning. The egg basket is on the shelf. We generally scatter feed for the hens twice a day and gather the eggs in the afternoon. I'm taking my cards and cribbage board, but the checkers and backgammon boards are in the box over there and there are books on the shelf." He frowned, trying to think what else to tell Gideon.

"We'll take good care of everything," Gideon assured him. "You'll be back Monday evening, right?"

"Yeah, unless the weather is bad. Do the bricks on the stove seem like they're getting hot? We're going to wrap them in those cloths and put them around me. Ethan's afraid I'm going to get cold since I can't move around much."

"I don't know," he replied, going over to the stove and looking at them doubtfully. "Damien always drops a bit of water on them to test them." He flicked a droplet of water on one of them and watched it dance across the surface. "They seem hot enough to me."

"All right, they're ready then. And the blankets should be warm enough and our bag is sitting by the door and the lunch and supplies for the trip are there next to it."

"Seems like you're ready to go then," Gideon told him as he moved back over to look out the window.

"I wish they'd hurry up," Jared fretted. "How long can it take to show Fox how to feed the horses and clean out the stalls?"

Gideon put both hands on the glass and stood on his toes to see better. "Here they come now," he announced to his friend, excitement in his voice. "You should be leaving in just a few minutes."

"Hi, Fox," Jared said as the door opened and the two men came in.

"Hello, Jared. You are mending well," he replied, and then turned to Gideon. "Help Ethan, Mouse," he told him, ruffling his hair affectionately.

"All right, we're ready for you, Jared," Ethan said after everything had been taken out and stowed in the wagon. He helped the young man stand and wrapped a quilt around him, then picked him up and carried him outside. With Fox's help, he lifted the young man over the side of the wagon, settled him into the warm nest they'd created and covered him with more blankets. "All set?" Ethan asked as he climbed onto the wagon seat.

"All set," Jared repeated. "Bye, Fox. Bye, Gideon. See you on Monday."

"Bye, Jared," Gideon echoed. "See you on Monday."