Chapter 5

We're almost out of kerosene, Ethan," Jared said as he came into the barn where his partner was bent over, cleaning Lucifer's hooves. "And I opened the last sack of flour this morning."

"I know." Ethan straightened up and stretched to ease the cramp in his back. "We're getting low on grain, too. I need to go to town for supplies before the weather gets bad; I've been putting it off for a month."

"When we gonna go?" Jared asked, both excited and apprehensive at the idea of being back in town.

"We're not, Jared. I am," Ethan broke the news to him. "I want to you stay here."

"What? Why? I wanna go, too!" The apprehension instantly vanished, and town became a mecca that he was being denied.

"Not this time, Jared. I want you to stay and take care of things here."

"That's not the real reason, is it?" Jared asked shrewdly. "You've left the stock alone while you went to town before."

Ethan sighed. He had hoped to avoid this conversation; it was one reason he had put off going to town. "No, Jared, that isn't the only reason. Your knee is still giving you trouble, you limp whenever you get tired, and you don't have the right clothing for--"

"I KNEW it!" Jared raged. "You're ashamed to be seen with me! I thought you were different, but you're just like all those other men! My ma was plenty good enough for them in bed, but God forbid they be seen in public with her! I thought you were different!" The words ended in a half-sob as he whirled and raced out of the barn.

Ethan shook his head and went after the impetuous young man. He caught up with him halfway across the yard, grasping his shoulder and turning him around.

"Let *go* of me," Jared shouted, pummeling the big man's chest. "I don't want you to touch me!"

Ethan grabbed both of the smaller fists in his big ones. "Stop it, little boy! Now!"

Jared immediately began kicking Ethan repeatedly in the shins as he struggled to pull his hands free. When Ethan swore and heaved him up over one shoulder, he kicked and struggled, almost catapulting both of them into the dirt.

"I *said* STOP!" Ethan punctuated the word with a solid THWACK to the upturned butt.

Jared subsided as Ethan carried him into the cabin, but as soon as his feet hit the floor he began struggling again.

"That's ENOUGH, Jared!" Dragging him over to the chair by the fireplace, Ethan sat down and pulled the raging young man down onto his lap.

"Now, you sit here, little boy," he ordered sternly, "and when you've calmed down, we'll talk."

Jared continued to struggle against the iron grip for a few moments, then gave up, sitting stiffly upright, gazing straight ahead as if Ethan didn't exist.

"Are you ready to listen?" Ethan asked.

He took the icy silence as assent, and continued, "I am *not* ashamed of you. I'd be proud to be seen with you."

"You're ashamed of me," Jared reiterated. "Because I limp and my clothes are old and ragged."

"Oh, Jared," Ethan sighed in exasperation, "that's not what I meant, and you ought to know that. I said your knee is still giving you trouble and you limp when you get tired. If you try to sit on a wagon seat for five or six hours, it'll stiffen up until you can't even walk when you get there. I don't want to see you in that kind of pain, little boy. And I don't care what your clothes look like, but you don't have enough of them. You don't even have a coat. I'll have to leave at daybreak and there's ice on the water trough in the early morning. You'd freeze, sitting up on the wagon seat in the wind. I want you to stay here, where you'll be safe and warm."

He waited while Jared thought about what he'd said, knowing that the explanations were hitting home as the tension slowly went out of the smaller body.

At last the young man heaved a sigh and slid down to rest his head on Ethan's shoulder.

"How long do you think you'll be gone?" he asked forlornly.

"At least three days." Ethan wrapped his arms around the younger man. "It'll take me most of one day to get there. If we're lucky, the mercantile will have everything on hand and can put together the order the second day, and I can come home on the third. If we have to wait for him to get in supplies, it will be longer."

"When are you going?"

"Probably in the next day or so," Ethan decided. "There's no point in putting it off any longer."

"I'll miss you," Jared softly admitted. "Are you sure I can't go?"

"I'll miss you too, little boy. I'll be home as soon as I can." Ethan held him close and stroked the silky blond hair.

Jared nestled against him, worn out by his tantrum and content to be held and petted. At last he raised his head. "I guess I'd better go finish my chores, huh?"

"Not so fast," Ethan gripped his wrist when he would have gotten up. "We need to discuss the small matter of you kicking me."

"Ethan!" Jared stared at him in horror. "That isn't fair! I was angry! I misunderstood!"

"Get them off, little boy. Now."

Later, as Jared sniffled quietly in the corner, Ethan thanked heaven that the young man had given in so easily. There were ways around both of his excuses for leaving Jared at home - they could have taken frequent breaks for him to walk around, and he could have worn one of the big rancher's heavy shirts or even wrapped himself in a quilt during the cold morning hours. The truth was, Ethan wasn't letting him anywhere near town until he had talked to the sheriff. He needed to be sure that there was no chance Jared was wanted in connection with Fletch Dutton's gang. He really didn't feel up to breaking the young man out of jail, and he'd invested a lot of time and money in the ranch. He wasn't ready to abandon it all in the dead of night, or to try to move all those horses with a posse on his tail. He didn't think Jared would understand that, though, and he didn't want the young man to worry the whole time he was gone or, worse, come home to find that he'd had taken off.

~~~~

"I packed you a lunch," Jared said a few mornings later, handing Ethan a neatly wrapped package.

Ethan, who had just finished an enormous breakfast, chuckled as he hefted the parcel. "There's enough here for the whole three days, Jared. They do have food in town, you know."

"I just didn't want you to get hungry on the trip," the young man replied with an embarrassed flush. "You don't have to take it if you don't want to."

"Of course I want to take it." Ethan told him. "It's a long drive, and I'll be glad to have a bite along the way. Now, I want you to stay around the cabin while I'm gone. Don't go wandering off."

"Yes, Ethan," Jared said obediently. "Don't forget to take the rifle."

"It's in the wagon. And bar the door at night."

"Yes, Ethan. You got enough ammunition?"

"It's in the wagon. And if anyone comes, you bar the door and stay inside, no matter what."

"Yes, Ethan. You better stay at Ma Bryson's boarding house. It's cheaper than the hotel."

"I'm only going to be there two nights. Make sure you keep the wood box full."

"She has better food, too."

Ethan's lips twitched. "Make sure you take care of the stock."

Jared's eyes danced. "Watch out for those poker games in the saloon. They get mean sometimes."

"Don't set the cabin on fire."

"Don't drink too much."

"Don't stay up all night."

"Don't-" Jared couldn't keep a straight face any longer, and his laughter rang out, drawing a deep chuckle from Ethan.

"I'm going to miss you," Jared told him, wrapping his arms around the big man and resting his head against the broad chest.

"I'm going to miss you too, little boy." Ethan lifted the younger man's chin and kissed the full trembling lips. "I'll be back as soon as I can. You behave yourself while I'm gone."

"Yes, Ethan. You be careful. Stay safe."

Another hug and kiss, and then he stood shivering in the doorway as the rancher climbed into the wagon and drove off, waiting until he could no longer see the wagon in the distance before going in and closing the door. His first instinct was to throw himself on the bed and bawl, but he restrained himself. He wasn't a little kid, and he wasn't going to start acting like one.

Work, he decided. Ma always said that hard work took your mind off your troubles. He'd start by cleaning the pantry and cellar, getting them ready for the supplies that Ethan would be bringing back.

~~~

Ethan took his whiskey to an unoccupied table and sat down. He had left an order at the feed store and taken the list Jared had dictated to Carson's Mercantile before dutifully getting a room at Ma Bryson's and eating supper. Jared was right; the food there was better than that served at the hotel. He wondered briefly what Jared was doing right now and if he had eaten.

The saloon was already crowded. A scantily clad young woman sat at the rickety old piano banging out a raucous melody, while others were circulating and drinking with the loud boisterous men; and traffic to the rooms upstairs was brisk. The nightly poker game was in full swing and, as he listened to the chink of coins and clamorous, sometimes angry conversation, he remembered Jared's admonition about it with a smile. He wondered how the young man was doing on his own.

"Montgomery, I heard you were in town." A big well-built man in his mid-thirties stopped at the table.

"Dash, good to see you." Ethan stood and shook hands with the sheriff. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Much obliged." Sheriff Dashman sat down at the table, taking off his hat and running his hand through his dark curly hair as Ethan signaled the bartender. "So how have you been? I haven't seen you for a while."

"Not too bad. How's it going with you? I heard you had some excitement a couple of months ago," Ethan remarked casually. "Did you really take out Fletch Dutton and his gang?"

Dashman shook his head. "Not me. That was Brannigan, over in Lone River. They hit his bank and killed two tellers, one of them his son-in-law. He hired himself an Indian tracker and found Dutton's hideout. Wiped out most of the gang."

"Most? Not all?" Ethan tried to keep his voice even and unconcerned. "Are you still looking for the others?"

"He got all the important ones," Dash said with a puzzled look. "Why? You been having trouble of some kind?"

"Not at all," Ethan denied hastily. "Just passing the time. What else is new?"

"Did you hear that Saul Morris died last month?"

"No, I hadn't. What happened?"

"He took a fall, trying to repair his barn roof. His widow is selling out and going to her relatives back East."

"Really?" Ethan said with interest. "Is she selling his horses too? He had some good stock."

"Yeah, he did. I have my eye on that big appaloosa of his, but I don't know. It's real skittish around gunfire, and that's not a good trait in my line of work. Is there any chance you could break it of that?"

"I might be able to." Ethan thought about it for a minute. "As I recall, it's pretty even-tempered otherwise. It could take awhile though."

"That wouldn't be a problem," the sheriff replied. "I'm buying it for a backup and I won't need it until spring."

They discussed the terms and agreed to meet the next morning and go to the widow's, then Dashman stood up. "I'd better get on with my rounds. Thanks for the drink. I'll meet you at Ma Bryson's right after breakfast."

Ethan spoke to one or two other acquaintances, then left the noisy, smoky saloon. He stood in the cool air outside, and debated what to do next. It was too early to go to bed, but there wasn't much else to do in town on a weeknight unless he wanted to go back in and join the poker game or go upstairs with one of the girls. Remembering that Jared had mentioned knowing Estelle, he decided to visit her establishment. Maybe she could tell him a little more about the young man or his background.

As Ethan entered the parlor at Estelle's he couldn't help noticing the sharp contrast between it and the saloon. The room would never be mistaken for his mother's drawing room, but an effort had been made to imitate its style. The dresses the women wore were provocative, but they had an elegance that lifted them far above the tawdry costumes worn by the saloon girls. There was a piano here too, but the properly dressed young lady was playing Mozart, and the women carried on quiet conversations with the men before they finished their drinks and led them to the privacy of the rooms above. A lush, full-figured redhead dressed in burgundy silk and showing an ample amount of cleavage, came forward, stretching out both hands in greeting.

"Mr. Montgomery, how nice to see you again." She looked around the room appraisingly, "I'm sorry, Claire is with another client right now. Merry is available or, if you'd like to wait, Claire shouldn't be too much longer."

"Actually, I wanted some time with you, Estelle," Ethan said, doffing his hat.

Estelle frowned. "I don't normally-"

"Just to talk," he assured her. "If we could go somewhere private?"

Estelle led the way into her private parlor. "Sit down, please." She poured him a glass of whiskey and handed it to him before sitting down herself. "What can I do for you?

Ethan hesitated, unsure where to start. "Do you know a young man named Jared? I understand that his mother used to work for you."

"Jared? Do you know him? Have you seen him recently?" she asked anxiously.

"He's out at my ranch. I didn't want to bring him into town until I was sure he wasn't wanted."

"Thank God," she said, sighing with relief. "Is he all right? Does he need anything? After we heard about Alyssa, we were so worried. We thought he would come here if he was able. When he didn't, we thought the worst."

"I'm sorry," Ethan apologized. "I didn't realize anyone would be worried about him. He said he didn't have any family."

"None that I know of," Estelle admitted, "but he seems like family to us."

She looked Ethan over, as if wondering how much to share with him, then continued. "Alyssa never gave many details about her past. I know that she came from a good family, somewhere in New England, I think. She said once that Jared's father was from Virginia, that he was visiting relatives up North when they met.

"I'm sure you know the story," she continued. "They swore undying love, he went home to break the news to his family, she found out she was expecting a child, and he was never heard from again. Her family sent her away to have the baby, then cast her off when she refused to give it up. She had trouble finding work with an infant to care for, and she was almost starving when the house where I worked took her in. She helped out in the kitchen and then as a parlor maid until Jared was old enough for her to work upstairs."

She rose and went to a desk in one corner of the room. Taking a small package from one of the drawers, she handed it to Ethan. "One of the men on the posse knew her. He took this before they buried her and passed it on to me. He thought she might have kin that would want it."

Ethan opened the package and took out a silver locket engraved with the initials AM and BD. Inside, a lock of pale gold hair lay entwined with one of deep brown.

"Jared's father gave it to her. The blonde hair is Alyssa's. The dark hair was from him. Would you give it to Jared? And tell him that if he needs a job or a place to stay, he's welcome here."

"I'll tell him, but I think he'll be staying where he is," Ethan said as he stood to leave.

"Claire should be available by now." Estelle walked him to the door. "Would you like me to call her for you?"

Ethan considered it. The evening stretched ahead of him, long and empty, and Claire was a charming distraction. Then an image of clear, trusting grey eyes rose in his mind, and he suddenly found the idea distasteful, even repulsive. "No, thank you. It's been a long day. I think I'll head on back to the boarding house."

Estelle nodded. "You take good care of him, you hear? He's headstrong and a little hot-tempered

sometimes, but he's good boy and I'd hate to see him hurt."

"Nobody's going to hurt him while I'm around," Ethan assured her vehemently.

"I don't think they'd dare, Mr. Montgomery," she smiled. "You tell him we all asked about him, all right?"

Ethan debated stopping back at the saloon for another drink, then decided against it. It had been a long day and he was bone tired. He returned to the boarding house and prepared for bed, but he found it difficult to sleep in spite of his tiredness. He lay awake for a long time, thinking about Jared and the woman who had sacrificed so much rather than give him up; Jared had inherited her strength and courage. He wondered again how the young man was doing, and how he had filled his day.

~~~~

Jared had spent the day cleaning. By sundown he was too tired to cook a meal for himself, but the pantry, cellar and a good part of the cabin were clean. Mindful of Ethan's orders, he took care of the stock and filled the wood box, then barred the door before rummaging through the pantry for something to eat. He settled for cold meat and biscuits left over from the lunch he had packed for Ethan and decided that the rest of the cabin could wait till the next day. Banking the fires, he put on his nightshirt and crawled into bed. As tired as he was, he couldn't sleep, tossing and turning in the big, lonely bed. At last he got up and put on the black wool shirt he had taken from Ethan that first day. Wrapping himself in a quilt and taking Ethan's pillow, he padded over to the big chair and curled up in it. Soon he was sleeping soundly, a single teardrop soaking into the pillow he hugged.

~~~~

After a restless night, Ethan rose early. He was just finishing his breakfast when the sheriff came in.

"Morning, Ethan. You about ready to go take a look at those horses?"

They walked to the house on the outskirts of town, toward the Widow Morris'.

"I hear you picked up a stray, have him working for you now. I'd keep an eye on him if I were you," Dashman said on the way.

Ethan looked at him warily, wondering how - and what - he knew about Jared.

"I have a young man working for me now. Is there something wrong with that?" he asked, remembering too late that Estelle and the sheriff were rumored to have a relationship.

"No, I don't think there's anything wrong with him. Estelle says he's a good boy," Dash unknowingly confirmed Ethan's suspicion. " But rumor has it that Fletch Dutton had quite a hoard stashed somewhere. Some people might think that he told his woman where that hoard was, and that maybe she passed it along to her son."

"I really don't think he knows anything," Ethan replied without hesitation. He had never even considered that possibility.

"I doubt that he does," Dashman replied. "But there's some mighty vicious men out there, and there's no telling what they'd do, trying to get the information from him."

"I'll keep a close eye on him," Ethan promised.

"Good. God knows what Estelle would do if something happened to him," Dashman replied with a grimace. "Now let's look at them horses."

Ethan looked the horses over, but his keen interest in them had vanished, and his mind wasn't totally on what he was doing. Jared was alone, without even a pistol or rifle to protect himself. He absently looked over the appaloosa and agreed to take it on, then came to a decision.

There was going to be a full moon that night. He'd get the feed loaded, then go to the mercantile. If they had his order ready, he could get it loaded and be on the road by mid-afternoon. Part of him was aware that he was overreacting, but another part was unwilling to take any chances. He had a strong compulsion to get home and assure himself that Jared was all right.

"Carson, you think you can get that order finished today?" he asked the storekeeper a little while later.

"It's ready to be loaded now, if you want to bring your wagon around."

Ethan browsed the store while he waited for the wagon to be loaded, picking out clothing, school books, and a few other necessities for Jared. Leaving the new packages to be placed with the other supplies in the heavily loaded wagon, he collected his things from the boarding house, then paid the storekeeper and headed for home, stopping only long enough to collect the appaloosa on the way.

In spite of the full moon, travel was slow after dark, and more than once he questioned his decision to leave that day instead of early in the morning. What difference was that few hours going to make? Jared was going to think he was crazy. Finally arriving home, he drove the wagon into the barn and unhitched the horses, rubbing them down and giving them and the appaloosa a bait of grain before putting them all out to pasture. Grabbing his rifle, he strode to the cabin, eagerly looking forward to seeing his young lover.

The door was barred, he noted approvingly. He knocked on it first, then pounded on it, calling Jared's name. Damn, he had forgotten how soundly the young man slept. Wouldn't it be his luck to drive all this way in the dark, then end up sleeping in the barn?

Just as he was about to give up, the door opened, and Jared stared groggily at him, clad only in an oversized black wool shirt.

"Ethan, you're home," he said, his sleepy grin interrupted by a huge yawn. "Early," he added intelligently, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

A wave of love swept over Ethan at the childish gesture and he set the lamp the young man was carrying on the table, then held him close, lovingly cupping the bare rump under the shirt with both hands. Jared put his arms around the big man's neck and held his face up to be kissed, and Ethan obliged, lifting the young man as he did so. Jared wrapped his legs around his lover's waist and Ethan carried him over to the bed, frowning as he saw that it was still neatly made. Where had the young man been sleeping? Looking around, he spied the pillow and quilt lying in a heap on the floor by his chair.

"Oh, Jared," he murmured, touched by the sight.

"The bed was too big," the young man explained sheepishly.

Ethan put him down next to the offending bed and pulled the covers back. "It won't be too big tonight," he whispered huskily as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Jared lay back on the bed, watching his lover undress. His admiring gaze swept down the strong muscular chest, the flat abdomen, the trail of fine dark hair that disappeared into the longjohns he had pushed down to his hips.

Ethan finished stripping, got into bed and pulled Jared to him for a long lingering kiss, then half-stifled a groan.

"What's wrong?" Jared asked anxiously, rising up to look at him.

"Just a cramp in my shoulder," Ethan reassured him. "It was a bit of a strain, driving home in the dark."

"You should have stayed in town another night, and come home in daylight," Jared scolded. "Roll over and let me rub it out for you."

Ethan obligingly rolled over onto his stomach, wondering if he should tell Jared why he had come home early. There would be plenty of time in the morning, he decided, as the young man straddled his hips and reached for the oil on the chest next to the bed. Capable hands warmed the oil and began working at the knots in his back and shoulders, and he relaxed under their soothing ministrations. It could definitely wait until morning. Tonight he just wanted to enjoy. . . his thoughts hazed as his eyes drifted closed.

"Back's done, Ethan," Jared said with a last, loving pat. "Roll over and let me do the front now.

"Ethan... Ethan?" he repeated, when there was no answer.

He peered down into the face of the sleeping man, then sighed and got up to bar the door and blow out the lamp. Sliding back into bed, he pulled the quilts over both of them, wrapped himself around the big man, and philosophically planted a kiss on one enticing bare shoulder before closing his eyes. Oh well. At least he'd be warm.