Chapter 16

Jared moaned wretchedly as the wagon hit a rock, and tried to curl into a tighter ball. The trip was as long and miserable as Ethan had feared it would be. Even with the thick cushion of hay he could feel a continuous vibration from the wheels, while every bump and pothole sent a new surge of pain through his chest and knee. Curling up seemed to help, but that moved him away from the warmth of the bricks set at intervals around him, and his fingers and toes were aching with cold. He'd long since given up any attempt at conversation with Ethan. He was keeping his head covered, trying not to let any drafts in to make him even colder, and half the time Ethan couldn't hear him over the noisy wagon, anyway. They pulled to the side of the road and stopped and he cautiously stuck his head out to see what was going on.

"How are you feeling?" Ethan asked, half-turning on the wagon seat to look down at him.

"Fine," Jared lied. "Where are we? Why are we stopping?"

"Rest stop." He jumped down from the seat and went around to open the tailgate of the wagon. "It isn't quite time to eat yet, but I'm getting a little stiff and the horses could use a breather. Come on, you look like you need to stretch, too." He helped Jared slide down to sit on the tailgate and draped his sheepskin-lined jacket over the young man's shoulders.

"No, Ethan, you'll be cold," Jared protested, trying to hand the coat back to him.

"Leave it, little boy." Ethan pulled it back into place. "I'm wearing a heavy wool shirt over long johns. I'll be fine for a few minutes." He dug out a stone jug that had been wrapped in a thick cloth and buried in the straw and poured out a mug of hot willow bark tea. "Drink this. It'll warm you up and ease the aches a bit."

Jared wrapped his fingers tightly around the mug, savoring the heat it provided. "What about you?" he asked in concern. "Don't you need something hot to drink?"

Ethan was digging around in the straw again and soon came up with another jug. "Coffee," he explained. "Drink that, don't just warm your hands on it."

Jared sipped the tea, grimacing at the bitter taste, but appreciating the way it warmed him from the inside out. After he had finished, Ethan helped him stretch and go through the exercises they'd devised for his knee, and, all too soon, it was time to get back on the road again.

They stopped twice more, once for a longer break and a lunch of cold meat and biscuits, and again, about mid-afternoon, for Jared to stretch again.

"Can I ride on the seat now?" Jared asked as he finished the last of the tea. "It's warmer now and we only have a mile or so to go."

"I think you can manage that far," Ethan agreed. He lifted Jared up onto the wagon seat. "Put a blanket around yourself for now and you can push it back over the seat when we get into town."

Jared smiled gratefully at the older man's understanding. It wasn't that he was ashamed of having a bed in the wagon or being wrapped in a blanket like a little kid, but-- As Ethan climbed onto the seat and gathered up the reins, Jared leaned into him for a quick hug and kiss. "Thank you," he murmured.

"The day is warming up a little," Ethan observed, pulling the quilt higher around the young man's shoulders. "Stay under it until we get into town, though. I don't want you taking a chill."

A short while later they pulled up in front of the boarding house and Jared faced another blow to his pride. As Ethan swung down from the seat and strode easily into the boarding house to see about a room, he suddenly realized that there was no way he was going to be able to get down by himself and hobble into the building. Ethan wouldn't let him even if there was. Being carried around the cabin was one thing, but out in public, with everyone gawking-- his face burned at the thought and he dolefully wished they could just turn around and go back home.

A few moments later, Ethan came back out, a broad smile on his face, followed by Percival Rogers and another man, who was pushing a strange wheeled contraption.

"Jared," Rogers exclaimed, hurrying to the wagon and reaching up to shake his hand vigorously. "It's good to see you. I don't think I ever thanked you properly for saving Agnes from that terrible ordeal."

Jared muttered something unintelligible, looking to Ethan for help, but the banker continued without pausing for breath. "I have a gift for you. I saw one of these at a convention when I was in Chicago last year and thought how practical it was. When Dash said you might be coming in to see the doctor and that your leg was still troubling you, I had my men throw one together. It's a wheeled chair. Preston!"

The other man pushed the chair up to the wagon and Jared got a good look at it. It looked like they had taken an ordinary ladder-backed, cane-seated kitchen chair and added large, spoked wheels to either side. A smaller, castor wheel in the back kept it from tipping over and added a rough method of steering. A flat board had been added to provide a comfortable place to rest his feet, while large wooden pegs had been hammered into the back near the top, providing handles for pushing the chair about. The whole contrivance had been stained a deep walnut and polished to a high gloss.

"I don't know what to say," Jared admitted slowly, his eyes wide. "It's... it's great. Thank you." This was the answer to his earlier dilemma. There would be nothing shameful or embarrassing about being pushed around in a chair like this, not if they used them in a big city like Chicago.

Rogers beamed. "Preston, why don't you leave that for Ethan and carry their luggage inside, then take the wagon down to the livery stable for them?"

"Thank you," Ethan replied, lifting Jared down and seating him on the chair. "Just the carpetbag needs to go in. The rest can be stored at the livery for now."

The man wordlessly carried the bag in and then got into the wagon and drove off.

"Let's get you inside, Jared," Ethan suggested.

"And I need to get back to the bank. I just came down to give you the chair. I hope you like it."

"I do," Jared replied sincerely. "Thank you."

As the banker left, Ethan turned the chair and wheeled Jared up to the porch of the boarding house. With a little maneuvering, they managed the two shallow steps and entered the main hall where the boarding house owner was waiting to show them to their room.

Ma Bryson was a widow in her early 30's, with 6 living children between the ages of 7 and 17. She provided room and board for a number of the bachelors in town, and board - breakfast and supper every day for a weekly fee - for several more. She also kept a couple of rooms in reserve for travelers and Ethan had rented one of these for the couple.

"Dash said you might be coming into town this afternoon, so I kept the downstairs back one for you. It's one of the larger rooms," she told them now. She led the way along the hall, talking as she went. "Some packages came from the Mercantile for you and I put them on the bed. Supper is served from 5:30-6:30 in the evening and breakfast is from 5:30-6:30 in the morning. There are clean towels on the washstand and they'll be replaced every other day. If you need more, there will be a 5-cent charge for them. You're welcome to entertain female guests in the parlor, but they aren't allowed in the bedrooms. I lock the front door at 10, so if you're going to be out later than that, you need to make arrangements in advance. I'll have one of the boys bring your bag in a few minutes. Enjoy your stay, gentlemen." She unlocked the door and opened it, handed the key to Ethan with a smile, and disappeared back down the hall, leaving them to enter the room alone.

Ethan pushed the chair into the room and closed the door. It was a good-sized room for a boarding house, with clean, whitewashed plaster walls and frilly calico curtains at the window. It was furnished with a double bed with an iron bedstead and a washstand with bowl and pitcher and a small mirror hanging over it. A straight-backed chair sat next to the window, which looked out into a small backyard currently occupied by 3 children, a dog, and a small flock of chickens. A curtain across one corner of the room with nails driven into the wall behind it provided a place for hanging their clothes, and there was just enough room left over for Jared's new chair to be parked next to the bed.

"I wonder what the packages are," Jared said, fingering one of the brown paper-wrapped parcels.

"I don't know. Why don't you open them and see?" Ethan asked as he answered a knock on the door. He took their carpetbag from the small boy holding it out bashfully and placed it on the chair by the window.

Jared tore the paper from the largest parcel as Ethan hung his coat up, then opened the bag and started removing clothes and shaking the wrinkles out of them. "It's a new coat," Jared exclaimed, holding up a sheepskin-lined coat identical to Ethan's. "Just like my old one!"

There was another knock on the door, and the same bashful little boy silently held out two notes. "What do they say?" Jared asked, looking up from the second parcel he was untying.

"I took the liberty of replacing the clothing that was ruined last month," Ethan read. "'I cannot thank you enough for your care of Beth Ann or for returning her safely to us. If there is anything else I can do, please let me know.' It's signed Jeb Carson."

"There's a new shirt and pants in this package," Jared announced, holding them up. "And a new hat in that box. And boots. My boots are fine," he added in confusion.

"Those are the boots I ordered for you," Ethan told him, going over to inspect them. "I hope they still fit. You've grown since I ordered them last fall."

"I hope they do, too." Jared stroked the satiny black leather appreciatively and then set them to one side. "What's the other note say?"

"It's from Estelle. She'd like us to come for lunch tomorrow. Did Dash tell everyone in town that we were coming today?" Ethan wondered.

"Sounds like it," Jared replied with a grin. "What are we going to do now?"

"How do you feel?" the older man asked. He snapped open his pocket watch and checked the time. "We have two hours before supper. Do you want to lie down for a while?"

"No. I spent most of the day laying down," Jared objected. "Can we go out and look around town for a while? Please?"

Ethan smiled at his eagerness and helped him get his good arm into the new coat and pull it over his other shoulder. Placing the new hat on his head, Ethan handed him the mirror and let him admire himself while he got his own coat and hat back on. He pushed the chair out into the hall, closed and locked the door, and placed the key in his pocket. "Where to?" he asked.

"Down Main Street," Jared ordered. "I want to see what's changed."

Their first stop was at the livery stable to check on the wagon and team, then they spent a pleasant half hour strolling down the boardwalk on one side of Main Street. "Do you want to go into the Mercantile now or wait until tomorrow?" Ethan asked, pausing outside the big two-story building on the corner.

The store was crowded with people bustling in and out before rushing home to supper, and Jared hesitated. "Why don't we wait until tomorrow?" he suggested. He took a deep breath and then made his own proposal. "Do you think we could go see Doc Baker now?"

"I don't know, Jared. It's late and you're tired. Wouldn't you rather wait until tomorrow when you're fresh?" Ethan asked.

"No, I'd kind of like to get it over with," the young man confessed. "I don't want to lay awake all night worrying about what he's going to say."

Since Ethan knew that Jared would do exactly that, he agreed without further debate, continuing to push the chair down the street until they reached the doctor's office.

"Wait." Jared held up his hand as Ethan reached for the doorknob, and the older man stopped and waited patiently.

"All right," the young man said after a moment. He took a deep breath. "Let's go."

A bell over the door jangled as they entered the outer office - a long, narrow room across the front of the building, sparsely furnished with a couple of hard chairs and a coat rack. "Be with you in a minute!" the doctor called from an inner chamber, and a moment later he appeared, rolling down his shirtsleeves as he came into the room.

"Ethan, Jared, good to see you," he welcomed them. "Dash told me you might be coming in today."

"Yep. He told everybody," Ethan murmured under his breath as Jared returned the doctor's greeting.

"Hi, Doc. See you finally managed to get your hair cut," the young man said, eyeing the short blond hair with a grin.

"You remember that, do you?" The doctor smiled at him affectionately. "It finally got so long I looked like a sheepdog and I couldn't see to operate. I told them they had to give me a break long enough to get it cut or I wouldn't be responsible for what I cut off. They saw the sense in that for some reason," he chuckled. "Come on in the back and let me see how you're doing."

He led the way into one of the smaller back rooms and he and Ethan assisted Jared up onto the wooden examining table. As Ethan leaned against the wall out of the way, the doctor helped Jared undress, and then removed the bandages binding his hand to his shoulder. He placed one hand on Jared's shoulder and felt his way along the length of the collarbone with the other, closing his eyes as he let his sensitive fingers do the examination. "Hmmm," he commented.

"Is that good?" Jared asked.

The doctor didn't reply for a moment, engrossed in moving Jared's arm through its range of motion, the other hand now resting delicately against the broken collarbone. "It's mending well," he finally said. "I think you can go ahead and start using it again. Try not to be too rough with it at first, though."

Next, he turned his attention to the gunshot wound in Jared's chest. The area surrounding the ugly wound was deeply indented, the fragile new skin a deep, shiny crimson. Once again, he moved Jared's arm through its range of motion, watching the way the chest muscles and skin moved and pulled, listening to Jared's small grunts of pain. "You've done a good job with this," he commended Ethan. "I think it's going to heal fine, without impeding his movement at all. Keep a soft cloth over it while the skin is still tender, so his shirt doesn't rub and irritate it, and rub it with lanolin or goose grease, something like that, to keep it supple. You don't have to bandage his arm down anymore, but I'd keep it in a sling for a while, especially while you're in town."

He smiled slightly at Jared's outraged protest. "I know it feels fine, Jared, but the sling will keep you from doing too much and pulling or tearing open that new skin," he explained. "And it will keep people from bumping it or jostling you while you're in town. They'll be more cautious when they see the sling. Once you're home, Ethan can judge how well it's healing and how much you need to protect it."

Jared groaned and the two men exchanged amused smiles over his head.

Doc Baker took a triangular piece of fabric for the sling from the tall wooden cabinet against one wall and laid it on the table next to Jared, then had a brief look at the healed incision where he'd removed the bullet. He hmmm'ed in satisfaction, then went on, "All right, let's take a look at that knee and then I'll let you go. I'm sure you have better things to do with your time in town."

He kept up a stream of inconsequential small talk as he unwrapped the knee and probed and manipulated the joint. Ethan rested his hands on Jared's shoulders, offering gentle encouragement as he tensed and fought the effort to pull away whenever the doctor hit a tender spot.

"I can't tell enough by the feel," the doctor admitted at last, standing up and brushing off his hands. "Can you walk on it, Jared?"

Jared stood, leaning on Ethan until he was sure of his balance, then slowly limped over to the door. He turned, his face flushed with triumph, and took two steps back toward the others before the knee buckled and he pitched forward. Ethan caught him before he hit the floor and lifted him back onto the table.

"We've been doing exercises to try and strengthen it," he told the doctor as Jared gritted his teeth against the waves of pain coursing through the battered joint. He squeezed Ethan's hand tightly as the doctor replaced the bandage.

"Tearing it like this is worse than a break," the doc replied. "At least you can set a broken bone. There isn't a whole lot you can do for this except stay off it and give it time to heal on its own. Keep up the exercises, Ethan, and let him start taking a few steps on it; from the bed to the chair and back at first, then around the cabin. When he can manage that, he can go outside, but stay off of rough ground for a while. Every time he injures it, it's going to do more damage and take longer to heal."

"But it will heal, right?" Jared asked anxiously.

"Yes, it will," Doc Baker replied confidently. "I won't lie to you - it's going to take some time and you might end up with a slight limp, especially when you've been overdoing it. But don't get too fond of that chair, because you aren't going to be in it forever."

Jared heaved a deep sigh of relief. He wasn't going to be a burden to Ethan after all.

"We're done here. Go ahead and get dressed," the doctor told him. "Are you going to be at the dance tomorrow night?"

"We plan on it," Ethan replied. "Are you going to be there?"

"Unless somebody decides to break his leg or have a fit," the doctor replied half-jokingly. "They seem to be doing that a lot lately." The bell over the door jangled again and he sighed. "Right on cue. I'd better go take care of it. You can find your way out, I think." He turned to Jared. "No dancing tomorrow," he ordered sternly. "I don't think you're quite up to it yet. You sit in that chair of yours and eat cake while Ethan takes a turn with the young ladies."

Jared laughed. "I can probably handle that. Thanks, Doc," he added seriously.

"You're welcome," the doctor replied. "I wish all my patients were as good as you are. Coming, coming!" he shouted as the bell rang again. "I'll see you two tomorrow night."

"Feel good?" Ethan asked softly as he helped Jared dress and get his arm into the sling.

"Yeah," Jared admitted. "I was kinda worried."

"I wasn't. You're a strong young man." Ethan smiled down at his partner. "We'd better get back to the boarding house or we're going to miss dinner."

Back at the boarding house, dressed in his own shirt for the first time in over a month, Jared waited nervously while Ethan combed his hair.

"I know it's a lot of strangers, but just use your best table manners and you'll be fine," Ethan told him understandingly.

They entered the dining room and found their spots at the long table. A chair had been removed to leave a space for Jared and Ethan pushed the wheeled chair into it, then sat down on his left. Most of the other places were full and as they sat down, the few remaining men hurried in. Ma Bryson's two oldest girls waited table, and as soon as the last men were seated they started carrying in platters loaded with thick slices of roast beef and serving bowls heaped with potatoes and carrots. The hungry men started passing them down the table and the girls returned with steaming pitchers of gravy and baskets of hot rolls. As fast as the serving dishes were emptied they were whisked away and full ones were brought in to replace them.

"Coffee or tea?" One of the girls stood by Jared's shoulder, a pot in either hand.

"Coffee, please," Jared told her, and she filled his cup, then moved on to the next person.

He placed his napkin in his lap, waiting nervously for the food to come to him, uncertain how he'd pass the serving dishes one-handed. He needn't have worried, though. As the platter of meat reached him, Ethan forked a slice onto his plate, and the man on his right reached for the platter.

"Looks like that might be a little heavy for you," he said matter-of-factly.

The move was repeated with the rest of the dishes, then Ethan calmly cut Jared's meat as if it was the most normal thing in the world, carrying on a conversation about range conditions with the man next to him at the same time. Ma Bryson's reputation as a fine cook was well-deserved and Jared slowly relaxed and enjoyed the meal. When he thought he couldn't eat another bite, the girls cleared the table and brought in dessert - thick wedges of apple pie and slices of cheese.

Afterwards they sat in the parlor and played cribbage for a short time, but Jared's wide yawns soon sent them to their room. "I'm sorry," he told Ethan, yawning yet again. "I don't know why I'm so tired. You don't have to come to bed; you can go out if you want. You might see someone you know at the saloon."

"No, I'm tired, too," Ethan replied easily. "I think we could both use an early night." He parked the chair near the bed and helped Jared with his nightly routine, then got undressed and got into bed next to him. "Good night, little boy."

"Good night," Jared echoed, turning to rest his head against the broad chest. He meant to lie awake and think about the day but he was asleep almost before he felt Ethan's arm go around him.

"Ethan. Jared!" Carson signaled his clerk to take over with the other customers when they entered the store the next morning. "Good to see you! Did you have a good trip? I see that you got the coat I left for you."

"It's a generous gift. Thank you," Jared replied awkwardly, unused to such personal attention.

"It's just a small token. Nothing compared to what you did for our Beth Ann. Now, what can I do for you today? Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"A suit for Jared, first," Ethan said, taking the lead in the conversation.

"For the dance tonight." Carson nodded knowingly. "I have some nice ready-made ones right over here. Do you have his measurements?"

After some discussion, they chose a nicely-cut gray suit, and Ethan brought out the two shopping lists.

"Do you mind if I look around a little bit while you do that?" Jared asked diffidently.

"No, go ahead," Ethan replied. "Can you manage on your own?"

"Yeah, I can turn the wheels with my hands, I think," Jared told him. He demonstrated, moving the chair forward and backward a few inches.

"You'll get your hands dirty that way," Carson interjected. "Here." He reached behind the counter and pulled out a pair of tan leather work gloves. "Why don't you use these?"

"Thank you." Jared pulled the gloves on, then carefully wheeled himself over to a display of dishes and other kitchen utensils. After a time, he noticed Beth Ann peering out at him from around the end of the shelves and smiled at her.

"My dog, Duchess, had puppies," she said, timidly approaching him. "Would you like to see them?"

"Sure," Jared replied.

"George!" Carson, who had been watching, called to his clerk. "Keep an eye on things. I'll be in the small storeroom if you need me."

He led the way back to the storeroom and Ethan followed, pushing Jared's chair, while Beth Ann walked along beside them.

The small storeroom had been converted into a nursery for the puppies. The upper shelves still had inventory on them, but all of the shelves within the puppies' reach had been cleared of stock. There was a shallow wicker basket with a bright cushion in one corner, while food and water dishes occupied the space under the window and several sticks, rag balls and other toys lay scattered across the floor. A dainty black and white spaniel lay in the basket, keeping a watchful eye on the furry pile of puppies sleeping nearby. When Beth Ann entered the room the pile exploded as they all leaped up and hurtled toward her, jumping and jostling each other in the struggle to be closest to her. She knelt down, trying to gather them all to her at once, laughing as they wriggled and attempted to lick her face. One of them, tumbled over onto his back by a bigger puppy, noticed Jared and immediately rushed over to him, followed by all the others.

"Careful, honey," Carson cautioned his niece. "Don't let them jump on his hurt leg."

"I'm sorry," the little girl apologized remorsefully as Jared grimaced in pain and attempted to guard his knee against the onslaught of puppies. She started pulling them away, introducing each one as she distracted it and set it to playing with its littermates. "This little black one is Princess and the other girl is Beauty. This is Patch... and Rascal... and Digger."

"And who's this?" Ethan asked, as a black and white puppy, slightly bigger than the rest, escaped and headed back to Jared. Standing on its back legs and resting its front paws on his knee, it looked up at him and yipped inquiringly, clearly asking to be picked up.

"That's Yip," Carson replied with a laugh. "He's the leader of the pack."

The puppy yipped again, more demandingly this time, and Jared awkwardly scooped it up. Once on his lap, it smugly surveyed the other puppies, gave Jared's chin a quick wash, then curled up and went to sleep.

"You can have one of them if you want," Beth Ann offered shyly, looking from Jared to Ethan and back again. "They're ready to leave Duchess now."

"I don't know. Ethan?" Jared looked to his partner for guidance.

Ethan hesitated. "Do you know who the father is?" he asked Carson. He didn't mind having a dog around the place, but he wanted one big enough to be useful, not a pampered lap dog.

"He's that big black mutt of the blacksmith's. We were going to breed her to Agnes Rogers' purebred, but she got out early one morning and was already with the mutt when we found her," Carson replied in disgust.

Ethan nodded, his eyes on Jared, who was absently caressing the silky fur as he listened to Beth Ann extol the virtues of each puppy. The blacksmith's dog was a giant coal-black mongrel of unknown parentage, known both for his size and his even temperament around strange animals. He knelt by the chair and picked the puppy up by the scruff of its neck, looking it over appraisingly. It was a small furry black bundle with a white muzzle, chest and feet, its nose a small black gumdrop in the expanse of white. It didn't fight or struggle as he looked it over, simply stared back at him with friendly interest. "What do you think?" he asked Jared, placing it back on his lap. The puppy yipped, vigorously scratched its neck until it fell over, then closed its eyes again. "You think we should take him home with us?"

"Sure," Jared agreed, gently fondling the sleepy baby's ears. "Thank you, Beth Ann."

Ethan pulled out his pocket watch. "We need to get going, Jared, or we'll be late for lunch."

They made arrangements to pick the puppy up with the rest of their order on Monday morning, and set out for Estelle's. To his surprise, Jared directed him around to the back door when they got there.

"Front door's for customers," the young man explained off-handedly.

Pots bubbled merrily on the stove and a savory aroma filled the kitchen, but the room was unoccupied when they entered. Before they had time to call out, an attractive blonde in her early twenties entered the room, clad only in a frilly white chemise and ruffled panteloons.

"Hi, Merry," Jared said softly. "I'm back.

She stopped short and stared, then squealed, "Jared!" and flung herself at him, throwing her arms around him and embracing him enthusiastically. In moments, Ethan was jostled out of the way and Jared was almost lost from view as a bevy of women in various stages of undress surrounded him, patting his shoulders, hugging and kissing him, and chattering excitedly.

"Girls! Girls!" Estelle said from the doorway, clapping her hands sharply. "Be careful with him. Remember, he's been wounded."

They backed off reluctantly, but continued to chatter, filling him in on what had been happening in their lives, asking for news about his. For a few minutes, Ethan, standing back out of the way, saw a different Jared. On familiar ground, totally at ease with the women, he was talking to all of them at once, laughing and smiling, exchanging what were obviously personal jokes with them. As Ethan watched, the young man reached out and put his arm around Merry's waist, drawing her closer to him, and Ethan felt an unexpected surge of jealousy.

"He's known some of them for years," Estelle explained quietly, coming to stand next to him. "They're like family to him. My turn, girls," she said in a louder voice. "I'm sure you all have things you need to be doing. Go on now."

There were small murmurs of protest but they all did her bidding, and she took their place, hugging Jared gently and kissing his cheek. "Hello, sweetie," she said, ruffling his hair. "You look much better than you did last time I saw you."

"I feel better, too," he replied with a grin. "It's good to see everyone again."

"And you can see them again later," she promised. "But right now, I want to hear what Doc Baker had to say."

"You mean you don't know?" Ethan asked in mock astonishment. "He must not have said anything to Dash then."

The others laughed. "Dash is out of town," Estelle explained. "He'll be back sometime this afternoon. Come into my sitting room. We'll have lunch and you can tell me everything."

With Ethan pushing the chair, they followed her into her plushly decorated private parlor. "Now," she said, seating herself on a sofa upholstered in burgundy brocade, "tell me what Doc Baker said. How's your leg? Are you healing all right?"

"It's good," Jared told her. "He said I'll be walking again in no time. Well-- almost no time," he amended, glancing up at Ethan with a sheepish grin.

After a lunch of soup and hot rolls served at a small table in the sitting room, they rejoined the other women in the main parlor. Ethan sat back and listened to the conversation, taking part when someone drew him in, but willing to let Jared be the main focus of attention. As he listened, he realized what Estelle had meant. Jared fit into this group like a beloved younger brother, laughing and teasing his older sisters and being teased in return. No wonder he was bored at being cooped up in the cabin, Ethan thought, if he was used to something like this.

The clock struck three and Jared turned to him. "We should probably be getting back to the boarding house," he told the older man. "Maybe we could come back and visit more tomorrow?"

"That's fine with me," his partner replied. "If that's all right with Estelle."

"We'll look forward to it," she told them cordially, and they left amid a cheerful chorus of good-byes.

"Are you tired, little boy?" Ethan asked as he pushed the young man back to the boarding house.

"No, not really," Jared answered. "But they needed to start getting ready for work. We would have been in the way if we stayed any longer."

~~~~~

Jared pulled his suspenders up over his shoulders and settled them into place. "I need help with the tie," he told his partner. "I've never done one before.

"Are you ready to go?" Ethan asked as he tied the narrow black tie for the young man and then helped him into his coat and adjusted his sling.

"Do I look all right?" Jared asked nervously.

"You look very handsome," Ethan told him, looking him over. The gray suit had been a good choice, he thought. The color went well with Jared's dark blond hair and gray eyes, and the formal attire made him look older and more mature.

Jared wasn't sure he'd use the word handsome to describe himself, although it definitely fit Ethan. The black suit fit him to perfection, showing off his fine horseman's build, and Jared didn't think he'd ever seen a more attractive man.

"Are you ready to go?" Ethan asked again, flattered by the obvious admiration in the young man's eyes.

"I think so," he replied doubtfully. "What do I do if people won't talk to me? God, what do I say if they do?" he asked in sudden panic.

"It will be fine, little boy," Ethan assured him. "They're going to talk to you, and you can just nod and smile if you can't think of anything to say."

The dance was held in the schoolhouse, a large one-room building with an enclosed porch in front and a lean-to on the back. Jared had never been inside before and he looked around with interest as Ethan went to hang their hats and coats on hooks in the entryway.

It was a large, rather plain room. There were four tall narrow windows spaced evenly on either side of the room with pictures of past presidents hung between them. A small platform at the front of the room was evidently for the teacher's des; at the moment four or five musicians were warming up on it. Behind them was a large chalkboard with a tray beneath it holding sticks of chalk and a long pointer. A potbellied wood stove stood in one corner with a screen around it to keep both the ladies' swirling skirts and the small children from brushing against it.

All of the desks had been taken out and stacked in the lean-to for the night and chairs and benches had been lined up along the walls, providing places for people to rest when they weren't dancing. Across the back of the room, on either side of the door, two tables were loaded with an assortment of cookies and cakes, coffee, tea, and punch.

Coming back from hanging up their coats, Ethan found a quiet, out of the way spot where he could sit beside Jared, and they watched as the room filled with people. Nobody appeared to notice them at first, and Jared had time to relax and look around. Everyone was dressed in their Sunday best. All of the women wore their finest gowns and while not all of the men wore suits, he noticed that the more prominent men in town did. He fingered the fine material of his suit contentedly, thankful that Ethan had insisted on it.

Soon, a tall thin man with a droopy gray mustache, fiddle tucked under one arm, stood up on the platform and called for everyone's attention. The room got quiet and he gave a short speech thanking them all for coming, the music started with a grand flourish, and the center of the room became filled with stomping feet and whirling skirts.

There were twice as many men as women, so a lot of the men socialized while waiting for their turn to dance. The children ran and played among the crowd and Jared soon spotted Beth Ann. She seemed to have lost her shyness and was having a good time playing with the others.

"Would you like some punch and cookies?" Ethan asked, leaning close to be heard over the rising noise level.

Jared nodded, his eyes on the throng before him. This wasn't so bad after all, he thought with enjoyment.

"Jared! Good to see you!" a hearty voice called, and he looked away from the dancers to see Ross Delaney approaching him, his daughter Rose following close behind.

"Hello, Mr. Delaney," he said. "Hello, Rose. How are you this evening?"

"We're fine," the big, bluff man replied. "The question is, how are you doing? I hope that chair isn't permanent, young man."

Jared sat tongue-tied. /How did you nod and smile in reply to that?/ he wondered frantically.

"No, Doc Baker says that it's temporary," Ethan assured him, coming up behind them and taking the burden of conversation from Jared. "He should be back on his feet in a month or so."

"Good, good. Glad to hear that. I hope you don't mind talking a little business tonight," he continued to Ethan. "I have some young horses..."

"I'm glad you're going to be all right, too," Rose said quietly to Jared. She was dressed in a deep rose gown this evening, a color that complimented her dark hair, which was drawn back and confined in a gold mesh net. "I was worried about you."

"Thank you," Jared replied awkwardly. "I hope you didn't suffer any bad effects?"

"I've had a few nightmares," she confessed. "But we're very fortunate that you were there to help us. One of the horses my father is talking about is a buggy mare for me," she added, smoothly changing the subject. "Do you and Ethan train carriage horses, or just riding horses?"

"It's up to Ethan," he replied. "But I know he's trained teams before, so it shouldn't be a problem." He continued making polite conversation with her while listening with one ear to the conversation about horse training until Banker Rogers came up to introduce his wife, his daughter Agnes in tow.

Jared decided he liked Mrs. Rogers. She was a quiet, unassuming woman, content to remain in the shadow of her more flamboyant husband and vivacious daughter. While her husband was explaining to Delaney how he had seen a wheeled chair at a banker's convention in Chicago and Agnes was explaining to Rose that her pale blue gown had come all the way from Paris, she quietly thanked Jared for saving her daughter's life, asked how he was feeling, and recommended a tisane to help with the pain in his knee.

Soon a young man came up and asked Agnes to dance, followed by one seeking Rose. She declined, explaining that her first dance was always with her father, and Delaney, reminded of his duty, excused himself, promising to finish the conversation later. Rogers led his wife onto the floor and Ethan and Jared were left alone for a few moments. Not for long though; as if some invisible standard had been met, others stopped to converse as well. They weren't the center of attention, but they received their share of it, and Jared basked in the obvious approval of the townspeople. In between conversations, Ethan watched the dancing with Jared, tapping one foot in enjoyment.

"Why don't you dance?" Jared asked him.

"No, I'm fine." Ethan smiled down at him. "I don't mind watching."

"But you'd dance if I wasn't here?" Jared asked shrewdly.

"Probably," Ethan admitted. "But I can have fun without."

"Go on and dance then," Jared urged him. "I can sit here by myself for a few minutes. Go ask Rose. I know she'd like to dance with you. Or Agnes," he added wickedly. "I'm sure Agnes would love to dance with you. She thinks you're an eligible bachelor."

"All right," Ethan smiled. He set his cup down on the windowsill behind him and walked over to the bench where Agnes sat with her mother, delicately sipping a cup of punch.

He was going to do it, Jared thought in astonishment. He was going to ask Agnes to dance. He watched as the girl smiled invitingly at the big, handsome rancher and as Ethan kissed the hand she held out and said something obviously charming to her. Her smile soon faded, though, and Jared understood why as Ethan led Mrs. Rogers out to join the Virginia Reel that was forming, Agnes looking after them in amazement. He hastily bit back a grin as Agnes looked his way and turned to accept the cup of punch that the schoolteacher was offering him.

Ethan danced twice more, once with Rose and once with the schoolteacher, sitting with Jared and talking between dances. Shortly after the second dance, Dash came in, spotted them and made his way over to talk.

"Hello, Dash," Ethan greeted him. "I see you made it back."

"Yes, finally," Dash replied, drinking a cup of punch thirstily. "I see you made it to town."

"Good thing, since you told everyone we were coming," Ethan said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Were you that sure of me?"

"Nope." Dash laughed as he set his empty cup on the windowsill. "I was that sure of Jared."

They stayed until the dance was drawing to an end, then went back to the boarding house, talking to Dash and Doc Baker as they walked along.

"Did you have a good time, Jared?" Doc Baker asked.

"Yeah, I did," the young man replied. "Everyone was real nice. And nobody broke their leg or had a fit, either," he couldn't resist adding.

"Even I get lucky once in a while," the doctor laughed. "I probably won't see you before you leave town," he said as they arrived at the boarding house. "Take care of yourself and don't do too much. Give yourself time to heal."

"Yes, Doc."

"I'll see to it," Ethan assured him at the same time.

"Somehow, I believe Ethan more than Jared," they heard Dash say with a laugh as the two men continued down the boardwalk, and Ethan chuckled as well. "I think they know you, little boy," he said.

Sunday was a quiet, lazy day. They visited Estelle and her girls again, and called on Mortimer Fuller, the owner of the feed store. He also dealt in livestock, both his own and on consignment, and they purchased a gentle fawn-colored Jersey cow, Daisy, and reserved two piglets from a litter that would be born later that spring. Daisy was dry now but would calve in a couple of months, and Fuller assured them that she was an excellent milker. They would pick up the bare-root fruit trees from Carson when they made a trip into town for the piglets.

After supper, Jared spent some time in the kitchen with Ma Brewster, getting some of her recipes, but once again they were in bed early. Monday was going to be another long day.

They were up and about early Monday morning, packing their belongings, eating breakfast, and getting ready to leave town. Ethan left Jared in the boarding house parlor while he took the wagon to be loaded, then came back for the young man. By the time they reached the Mercantile together, most of the wagon had been loaded.

"I left a spot for him to lie down in if he gets tired," Carson told Ethan in a low voice as they were going over the bill. "There was hay and blankets still in the wagon, so I assumed that's what you did coming in."

"Yes, it was. Thank you," Ethan replied. "Got your puppy, Jared?" he asked as the young man wheeled himself over to them.

"Not yet," he replied, just as Beth Ann came out of the storeroom carrying Yip in her arms.

"Bye, Yip," she said, her voice trembling as she hugged him to her chest.

"Thank you for giving him to me. I'll take good care of him." Jared promised. "Can you carry him out to the wagon for me?"

They went out to the wagon and Ethan hoisted Jared up onto the seat, and then handed him the puppy while Carson and his clerk loaded the wheeled chair in the back and attached Daisy to the tailgate by a long lead rope.

"Better pull a quilt over Yip. He isn't used to being outside," Ethan advised, and Jared gave him a knowing look as he complied.

They rode in silence at first, as Ethan steered a path through the other horses and wagons on the road, and Jared soothed the frightened puppy. Once they were out of town and Yip had gone to sleep, Ethan took the reins in one hand and put his other arm around Jared.

"Did you have a good time, little boy?" he asked.

"Yeah, I did." Jared rested his head on the older man's shoulder. "I'm glad we came. And I'm glad we went to the dance."

"I told you it would be all right," Ethan couldn't help pointing out.

"I know," Jared admitted. "Everybody was real nice to me and it felt good. Only..."

"Only what?" Ethan prodded when he didn't finish the sentence.

"Only they weren't nice to me because I'm me," Jared replied, struggling to put his feelings into words. "Most of them wouldn't have given me the time of day before. Mrs. Fuller used to yell at me for playing with Tommy, and that clerk of Carson's used to follow me around the store to make sure I didn't steal anything. They were only nice to me at the dance because of what happened with the girls and because I was with you, not because they thought I was anything special."

"Some of them were," Ethan agreed. "But not all of them. Dash likes you and so do Doc Baker and Rose. And some of the others do, too. Delaney told me I was lucky to have a good hand like you around. The other ones-- well, they're like sheep. They wait to see what the strong ones are doing and then they run bleating along behind."

Jared couldn't help laughing at the comparison. "I love you, Ethan," he said.

"I love you, too, little boy," Ethan replied.

From under the quilt there came a shrill yip as if the puppy were agreeing, and they both laughed.

"You seemed to have a good time with Estelle and her girls," Ethan observed after they'd driven a little farther. "Do you miss being around them all the time?"

"Yeah, I did have a good time," Jared agreed. "It was fun to see them and find out how they're doing. And show you off," he added with a wicked grin. "But I'll be glad to get home."

"I will, too, little boy," Ethan replied, his heart warmed by the use of the word 'home'. He chirruped to the horses and flicked the reins, urging them to move a little faster. "I will, too."