Chapter 8

The weather was cold and blustery outside, but inside the cabin was warm and quiet. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire, the rustle of a page being turned, and the scratch of pencil on slate. The aroma of meat simmering gently on the back of the stove vied with the lingering aroma of the oatmeal cookies Jared had baked earlier, contributing to the homey atmosphere.

Ethan sat in his chair by the fireplace, absorbed in one of the new books he had brought back from town. Occasionally he would pause in his reading to put more wood on the fire, check on Jared, or get more of the rapidly disappearing cookies.

Jared sat at the table, feet hooked around the rungs of the chair, the tip of his tongue stuck out as he laboriously copied letters onto his slate. Writing was a lot harder than he had thought it would be. It looked so easy when Ethan wrote out the letters for him to copy, but the pencil took on a life of its own in his hand, twisting and turning maliciously as he wrote. He came to the end of the row and eyed his attempt critically. The letters looked more like random scribbles than Ethan's elegant script. Sighing, he got up and checked the meat, adding a little more water to it, then added wood to the stove. He looked at the depleted supply in the woodbox near the stove and went to get his coat.

"I'll get it, Jared. You keep studying," Ethan said, rising from his chair.

Sighing again, Jared sat down and absent-mindedly ate another cookie before picking up his pencil and starting another row of shaky letters.

Ethan came and stood behind him, one hand resting on his shoulder. "Much better," he approved, kissing the top of Jared's head. "Finish these and then you can take a break before we work on arithmetic."

Jared groaned. He didn't know why Ethan was so set on arithmetic. Reading was important, he wanted to learn to read and write, but he didn't understand Ethan's insistence on learning to do sums, as well. It wasn't like he was going to be a shopkeeper or something. "Is it snowing yet? Do you need me to help with chores or bring in more wood?" he asked as Ethan put on his coat and opened the cabin door.

"The sleet changed to snow a couple of hours ago," Ethan replied. "We've got a good three or four inches already. You keep working. I can bring in the wood."

Outside, Ethan gathered up an armload of wood from the pile, then paused as the horses in the pasture began whickering and calling, a sure sign that someone was coming down the road. Who would be out on a day like this? Entering the cabin, he hurriedly dropped the wood in the box, then grabbed his rifle off the rack and headed back out the door.

"Ethan?" Jared asked, pushing his chair back and standing up. "What is it?"

"Someone's coming," Ethan told him tersely. "It's probably just someone looking for shelter from the storm, but it's best to be sure. You stay inside."

Ethan felt easier when he saw the heavily loaded wagon. It was probably just travelers needing shelter, as he'd told Jared. He stepped to the edge of the porch as the wagon pulled up, cradling the rifle in his arms. He could make out a Indian man on the seat, his black, shoulder-length hair wet and straggly under his hat. There was another, smaller, figure huddled in a blanket next to him. They looked cold, wet, and miserable, and he relaxed just a fraction.

"Afternoon," he said in a deceptively mild voice. "Bad day to be out and about."

"Tell him we're lost, Damien," a definitely masculine voice ordered from the blanket on the seat.

"Mouse," the big man growled and the small form grew still. "Can you help us? We're looking for the Pederson spread."

"Back up this road, turn left at the T, down about three miles and turn left again," Ethan said. "But there's no one there. They moved into town 3-4 months ago."

"I know. We bought the place from them," the stranger said. "Thanks for the information, though."

As he began to turn the wagon, Ethan reached a quick decision.

"That's too far to drive in this storm. You wouldn't get there until well after dark and have nothing waiting for you but a cold empty house. Put your horses and wagon in the barn, and stay here tonight."

The Indian looked back over his shoulder. "Thanks for the offer, but we'll be all right once we get there."

Just then the younger man erupted in a sneeze that made both men jump. Ethan caught a glimpse of a curly blond head before the Indian covered it with the blanket again.

"The offer is still open," Ethan said evenly.

"Maybe- maybe we will take you up on it," the man said. "It is mighty cold."

"Name's Ethan Montgomery." Ethan stepped to the wagon and held out his hand.

"Damien Silver Fox," the man replied as he shook the offered hand. "This is my partner, Gideon Kuschel."

The mound on the seat made a gesture that could have been a nod and wave.

"Take your wagon on down to the barn," Ethan suggested. "Let me tell my partner what's going on and then I'll be there to help you get your stock put up."

Silver Fox turned the wagon toward the barn, then paused. "Can he wait in the house?" he asked, indicating the man on the seat next to him.

The blond curls reappeared, and this time Ethan got a good look at the face. The man was young, about the same age as Jared, and the look on his face was classic indignation.

"No, Damien!"

"Mouse--"

"I want to stay with you!"

Ethan stepped back into the cabin, leaving them to their discussion. "It's two men, Jared, looking for the Pederson place. I've invited them to stay the night. Can you stretch dinner to feed two more?"

Jared turned from where he had been standing next to the window, rifle in hand. "Here? They're staying in the cabin?"

"Well, it's a little cold for them to sleep in the barn, Jared. They can bunk on the floor in front of the fire."

Jared bit his lip, uncertain that he wanted strangers intruding on the sanctuary he shared with his partner.

"Jared? It's all right, little boy," Ethan said as he saw the look on the young man's face. He lightly brushed his hand across one smooth cheek. "They're our new neighbors, and they're only going to be here for the night. Now put your books away and get supper made. They're cold and hungry."

"Yes, Ethan," Jared replied reluctantly.

Ethan watched him for a moment, until he was certain that he was going to be obeyed, then went back outside to deal with their unexpected guests.

Jared put his rifle back on the rack, eyeing the leather strap that now hung between it and the door. Ethan had put it there the day after his strapping, a constant reminder to carry the rifle any time he left the cabin. He wondered if he could slip it into a drawer until after the strangers had left; he was certain they would immediately know what it was and why it was there. Better not, he decided reluctantly. Bad as it would be to have them see it, having Ethan use it would be even worse.

He cleared his schoolwork off the table, his mood brightening as he realized that they wouldn't be doing arithmetic today. At least there was one positive thing about this invasion.

Now, what to do about supper? If he added plenty of potatoes and carrots to his stew meat and made a big pan of biscuits, he decided, that ought to stretch dinner enough to feed two more. It would take a while to cook, but there were still plenty of cookies to eat if they were very hungry and couldn't wait. He got out a pan and went into the pantry to get the vegetables.

~~~~

Outside, the argument continued.

"I want to stay with you!"

"No."

"But, I don't know these people! They could be killers or outlaws or--"

"No."

"It won't take long, not with me helping you!"

"You've been out here too long as it is--"

"Damien," the young man whined.

"I'm not arguing with you, Mouse."

"I won't go! I won't! I don't want to! Don't--"

Silver Fox saw his host step out the door, and said one soft word, spoken in his native tongue. The tantrum evaporated as if by magic. At another single word, the younger man slid down from the wagon seat and stomped into the cabin. Ethan took his place on the seat, trying to hide a smile. It looked like he wasn't the only one with a headstrong young partner.

~~~~

Gideon stomped into the room and came to an abrupt halt, taking in the braided rugs, the bright quilts on the bed, the two chairs set invitingly before the fire. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make this a home. He hoped theirs would be as nice. Dropping the blanket covering him, he took off his wet coat and hat and stood in front of the crackling fire, hands held out to the welcome heat.

"Oh." Jared came in from the pantry, carrying the potatoes and carrots. "I didn't hear anyone come in."

The figure by the fireplace turned and Jared saw a young man, not much older than himself. He stood paralyzed for a moment, unable to think of anything to say. He had expected two older men, not someone his own age.

"Who are you?" Gideon demanded, startled by Jared's sudden appearance.

"I'm Jared. I live here," Jared replied in indignation. "Who are you?"

"Gideon Kuschel. We came in the wagon." the other young man explained defensively. "I was told to come in here and get warm."

"I was told to cook your supper." Jared started toward the stove with his potatoes, then hesitated. The young man might be rude and arrogant, but he was their guest and he looked cold and miserable. Ethan would expect him to be a good host. He snagged a towel from the hook over the washbasin and threw it toward the young man. "Here. Dry off."

Gideon caught the towel and started drying his hair, keeping a wary eye on the young man moving around the kitchen. He was reluctantly envious of Jared, so sure and confident of his skills. Gideon would bet that he was just as comfortable working outside, chopping wood or tending to the stock. He was the kind of partner Damien needed, not a city boy who didn't know one end of an axe from the other.

Jared kept an equally wary eye on the young man in front of the fire. He looked so sure of himself, not awkward and backwards like Jared felt when there were strangers around.

The door opened, interrupting the covert inspections, and Fox and Ethan came in, chatting easily.

"I brought some clothes in for you, Gideon. You need to change into something dry before you catch cold."

"I'm fine," Gideon said softly, looking at his lover. Damien must have changed in the barn. "The blanket kept me dry."

"Now, Gideon," Damien spoke firmly.

"Damien, I'll dry, I can stay by the fire..." Gideon cast a sideways glance at the two men near the table.

"Jared, why don't we go get some more wood," Ethan suggested as he realized what the young man's problem was.

"We have wood," Jared objected, "and I'm peeling potatoes."

"I'm fine," Gideon insisted.

"NOW, Gideon."

"NOW, Jared." Ethan said simultaneously, handing him his coat.

"What's his problem?" Jared grumbled under his breath as he put it on and went outside. "It's not like he has anything special."

"Jared," Ethan said in exasperation, "just get the wood."

Once they had left, Gideon stripped down to his underwear as quickly as he could and held out his hand for the dry clothing.

"All of it," Silver Fox said, adding a swat to the damp back flap for emphasis.

"Don't know why I couldn't just dry by the fire," Gideon groused.

Damien swatted him again, this time harder. "Hurry up, or they'll be back before you're done."

Quickly, the young man peeled off the wet garment and dried off with the towel Jared had given him, trying to control his shivering. He had just finished putting on the dry clothes when the door reopened.

Jared dropped his wood in the box by the stove, and turned to hang up his coat. His eye caught the strap again, and he looked at Ethan pleadingly.

"Let me take those wet things," Ethan said, holding out his hand to Damien. "We can rig a line for them before we go to bed and they'll be dry by morning. I'll put them in the pantry until then." He took the wet clothes and dropped them on a wide shelf in the pantry, sweeping the strap off its hook and adding it to the bundle as he went by.

"Thank you," Jared whispered gratefully as he returned.

"I won't shame you in front of them," Ethan said softly, gripping his shoulder reassuringly before turning his attention back to the guests.

"Have a seat, Fox," he gestured toward the rocker. "Jared, how about some coffee for our guests?"

Jared already had mugs out on the table, and he filled them with the hot beverage, carrying them over and handing them to Fox and Gideon. He placed a plate of cookies on the small table near Fox's elbow and another next to Ethan's chair, before getting the remaining mugs from the table. Handing one to Ethan, he moved to stand behind the older man's chair, sipping from his own mug.

Fox sat down in the big rocking chair by the fire. "Nice place you have here."

After a moment of hesitation, Gideon settled on the floor between the rocker and the hearth, pressing back as close as he could against Fox's legs.

"Thank you," Ethan replied. "I'm afraid I can't take all of the credit, though. The people I bought it from did most of the work."

"Good, sound structure. Hope the Pederson place is this well-built. We bought it sight unseen, so I don't know quite what to expect" He took a sip of his coffee and passed the cookies to the young man pressed against his legs.

"It's a good place," Ethan assured him. "They let it go a little in the past year, but I was over there a month or so ago, rounding up some cattle, and it looked in pretty good shape to me. The fences need work, though, especially if you're going to be running cattle."

"We will be, come spring. Right now, I just want to get settled in before winter sets in."

"If you need any help, just give a yell," Ethan volunteered. "This is a slow time of year for us, and we'll be glad to lend you a hand."

"Thanks. I'll remember that."

The two young men eyed each other warily and fervently hoped not.

~~~~

"That was an excellent supper, Jared," Ethan praised, as he put down his fork.

"Yes," Damien echoed the compliment. "Not many people have such a hand with bear."

"Bear?" Gideon asked faintly. "That was bear meat?"

"Yes," Damien replied, looking at his partner. "What did you think it was?"

Gideon looked down at his empty plate. "I thought it was beef," he said forlornly, looking slightly ill.

"We'll butcher a steer later on," Ethan said, kicking Jared under the table as he opened his mouth. "We don't have room to store that much fresh meat."

Damien nodded thoughtfully. "Would you be interested in trading bear for beef? It would give us both a little variety."

"Sure," Ethan replied. "Or venison, if you'd rather not butcher a steer right away."

"Would anyone like more coffee?" Jared decided to change the subject. It wasn't that he cared much for Gideon, he thought, but he really didn't want him being sick at the table.

"No, thank you, Jared." Ethan held his hand over his cup. "I think we need to wash up the dishes and get to bed. Fox and Gideon have had a long day."

Fox agreed, and while the younger men washed up, the older ones spread blankets in front of the fireplace and ran a rope from one side of the cabin to the other. After that, Ethan hung the clothes to dry while Jared banked the fire and prepared sourdough starter for the next morning's breakfast.

Fox and Gideon were already wrapped in their nest of blankets, talking quietly to each other, by the time Ethan and Jared were ready for bed. Ethan blew out the lamps, and Jared stripped down to his long underwear by firelight, quickly getting into bed and sliding over to make room for Ethan. He was pressed against the wall, feeling lost and lonely, when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, pulling him up against the older man's chest.

"This is where you sleep, little boy," Ethan informed him softly. "No matter who's in the cabin with us."

~~~~

Jared sat at the table, his book and slate in front of him, carefully reading and copying the simple words. "B-at. Bat." He printed the word as neatly as he could. /Why did the snow have to be too deep for them to leave?/ "C-at. Cat." /He didn't mind Mr. Fox so much, but that Gideon made him nervous./ "F-at. Fat." /Why did F's have to look so much like E's? He could never remember which one had the third line./ "H-at. Hat." /He hoped they all stayed down at the barn all day./

The door slammed against the wall, and Gideon stormed in, too angry at Damien to remember his wariness around Jared. "Damien said it's too cold for me in the barn. I have to come back to the cabin," he raged, "and see if I can help you with anything. What are you doing?"

"Just doing my lessons." Jared hurriedly bundled everything together, anxious to get it out of Gideon's sight.

"What kind of lessons?" Gideon asked, intrigued by Jared's secrecy. He grabbed for the book, attempting to get a look at the cover.

"Stop it!" Jared struggled to keep the primer out of his grasp.

"Come on, let me see. Maybe it's something I can help you with."

"*Let* go!" Jared jerked the book away from him, leaving a handful of pages in Gideon's hand.

"You ripped it!" he shouted, staring down at his precious book in dismay. "You ripped the pages out of my book!"

"I didn't!" Gideon denied vehemently. "You yanked it out of my hands."

"You tore it!"

"It was an accident! And it was your fault!"

"It was not! If you hadn't been trying to take it, it wouldn't have happened! It's the first book I ever owned, and you ruined it!"

He shoved Gideon angrily, and the young man, caught off-balance, fell backwards, landing on his butt with a muffled thud.

"What's going on here?" a stern voice asked from the doorway.

The two young men looked guiltily at the partners they hadn't heard enter the cabin.

"He knocked me down, Damien! I wasn't doing anything but trying to be nice, and he knocked me down!" Gideon blurted as he jumped to his feet, rubbing his bottom theatrically as he tried to get his version of the story out first.

"He tore my book," Jared shouted over top of Gideon's explanation. "I told him to leave it alone and he didn't, and he ripped the pages out!"

"I did not!" Gideon denied vehemently. "I was only trying to look at it and he grabbed it away from me!"

"You did TOO!" Jared reiterated, clenching his fists.

"Enough!" Ethan cut through the uproar. "Jared, I think we need to continue this conversation privately. Go wait for me in the barn."

Jared gave Ethan a look of stunned disbelief, then grabbed his coat and flung himself out the door.

"I'm sorry this happened," Ethan told Damien grimly. "I need to talk to him. Make yourself at home. We'll be back in a few minutes."

"No hurry," Fox told him quietly, never taking his eyes from Gideon's. "We'll be discussing a few things in here, too."

~~~~

Ethan didn't see Jared as he entered the barn, warm and redolent of hay and horseflesh, but he knew where to find him.

"Come here, Jared," he said quietly, stopping at Dulce's stall. Jared had a soft spot for the little brown mare, and could often be found brushing her or sneaking her bites from their small store of carrots.

"No," Jared mumbled, his face buried against the horse's neck.

"Now, little boy," Ethan commanded. "I don't want to upset Dulce by dragging you out of there, but I will if I have to."

Jared gave the mare one last pat and reluctantly left the stall, dragging his feet through the loose straw.

"Now, would you like to tell me why you're hitting our guests?" Ethan asked sternly.

"Why are you taking his side?" Jared asked, bewildered and near tears. "It isn't fair! He wouldn't leave me alone, he wouldn't listen to me, he ripped my book, but I'm the one in trouble. God, you'd think I'd beat him to a pulp or something, instead of just shoving him a little!"

"I'm not taking his side," Ethan disagreed. "He was wrong. I'm not dealing with him, though. I'm dealing with you, and we don't knock our guests down, or even "just shove them a little", no matter how much they offend us or hurt our feelings."

"So if someone knocks on your door and demands to be taken in, they have the right to do anything they want to you and you can't even defend yourself??" Jared's voice rose with frustration and indignation.

"No, I'm not saying that." Ethan sighed, struggling for a way to explain the concept of hospitality to someone who had never had a home of his own, to whom the word 'guest' was frequently a synonym for 'customer'.

"When you invite people into your home, you treat them like they're family. You share the best that you have with them, you put their needs above yours. You might disagree with them, but you don't fight with them or shove them or knock them down. You don't hit family."

"Then why do you invite them in the first place? If it means that you have to let them walk all over you?" Jared asked in bewilderment.

Ethan tried to think of another way to explain it. "Look at it this way, Jared. If we were lost in a snowstorm, would you want someone to take us in and feed us and treat us like friends? Or leave us to manage as best we could on our own? You have to treat people the way you want to be treated."

"Oh, like the Golden Rule," Jared said in enlightenment. "Ma used to repeat that to me. She said that it means that you have to treat people the way you want them to treat you, not the way they deserve to be-- Oh."

"Oh," Ethan agreed. "What did your Ma do when you got into fights?"

"Nothing, when I got older," Jared told him. "She'd just look sad. When I was little, she'd-- No, Ethan!" he protested vigourously as he saw where this was leading. "It's not fair! He started it!"

"Jared--"

"Ethan, you can't spank me! Not while they're still here! They'll know! Please!"

Ethan swiftly considered his options. He had told Jared that he wouldn't shame him in front of strangers, but he couldn't just let this go. If nothing else, he couldn't let Jared think that whining or arguing could make him change his mind. He briefly considered postponing the spanking until after they'd left, but rejected that idea as well. Knowing that he had punishment coming would only make Jared moody and irritable, and even more likely to get into trouble.

"I'm sorry, Jared," he said. "But this has to be taken care of. Now come here." He sat on the closed lid of the metal grain bin and held out his hand. "Just take off your coat and drop your pants. It's too cold for you to strip out here."

Jared slowly removed his coat and hung it on a nail, his expression reminding Ethan of a wounded deer. Standing before Ethan, he made one last desperate appeal. "Please, Ethan. I understand now. I won't do it again. I promise."

Ethan reached up and slid Jared's suspenders over his shoulders in answer, unfastening his young partner's pants and pushing them down as well. Then, drawing Jared down over his knees, he unbuttoned the back flap on the long underwear, framing the pale, rounded cheeks. Jared trembled and grasped Ethan's leg for support as the older man methodically began his task of turning the exposed flesh a warm pink.

Jared managed to remain silent for the first few swats, but as Ethan continued the painful assault on his butt, Jared began wriggling and wailing, sobbing out apologies for the mistreatment of their guest.

Satisified that Jared wouldn't repeat the offense, and with a last hard swat to the center of the upturned butt, Ethan eased Jared upright and began the comforting ritual of love and reassurance. "It's all right, little boy. It's over now," he soothed, rubbing gentle circles on the young man's back. "Come on, now. You're all right."

In the cabin, a similar scene was taking place.

"Mouse."

Gideon studied the pattern in the floor at his feet, refusing to meet his partner's eyes.

"Mouse," Damien repeated patiently. "Look at me."

The young blond shook his head.

Damien reached out and tipped the young man's chin until their eyes met. "Tell me what happened."

Gideon shook his head again.

"Why did you tear the book?"

"I didn't mean to," Kuschel whispered. "He wouldn't let me see."

"It was his book, Mouse. He didn't have to let you see."

"It was rude."

"No. You were rude," Damien said sternly. "We're guests here. You seem to have forgotten that."

"But, Damien--"

"And you know how precious books are. To tear one..." The other man shook his head, a frown marring his face.

"I didn't mean to," Gideon repeated, tears welling in his eyes.

"I know you didn't, Mouse. But you still have to make some kind of restitution."

"But, Damien--"

"You can replace the book with your first pay."

"But Damien--"

Damien crossed his arms over his chest.

"I had plans for that money, Damien!"

"Yes. You had plans. Now the plan is you will replace Jared's book."

Gideon's face began to darken.

Recognizing a tantrum in the making, Damien stepped up to his partner and, without any hesitation, leaned him over the tabletop and swatted the upturned bottom hard.

"Damien!" Gideon squealed, his hands immediately going back to cover the seat of his pants.

"Unless you want the first thing they see to be your naked butt, you'll move that hand."

"Damien," he whimpered, but moved his hands.

And received three more hard spanks, one after the other.

"Damien," he tried again, this time tears coloring his voice.

His partner spanked him again and Gideon began to cry. "I'll pay for the book. DAMIEN!" The last word ending in a squeak, punctuated by a butt-numbing swat.

"Corner," was all the big man said as he released the grip he had on Gideon's neck.

The small blond straightened, wiping the tears from his eyes with one hand and rubbing his bottom with the other. "But, Damien, what if--"

"You want more?" the older man asked, taking a step forward.

"NO!" Gideon cried as he danced out of reach and rapidly made his way to the indicated corner.

Silver Fox eyed the forlorn figure across the room for a moment, then took a place next to the window overlooking the yard.

"All right, little boy" Ethan made one final circle with his hand, then stood up and pulled Jared to his feet. "Pull up your pants and go stand in the corner now. I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Jared demanded apprehensively.

"Just outside. Go on now."

As Jared stood in the corner, sniffling, Ethan found a clean cloth in the rag pile and went outside. Scooping up a handful of snow he carefully wrapped it in the cloth and then returned to the barn.

"Here, little boy. Come lay down and hold this over your eyes for a few minutes." He led the younger man over to a nearby pile of straw and sat down, pulling Jared down next to him.

Jared lay down with his head on Ethan's lap, more than willing to be petted and cossetted a little as the cold cloth removed the swelling and redness from his eyes.

All too soon, though, Ethan gently pushed him upright and stood up. "Come on, Jared, we need to get back to our guests."

"Um, I'll be in in a few minutes," Jared replied. "I want to take a look at... at Dulce's hooves."

"Dulce's hooves are fine," Ethan replied, not deceived in the slightest. "You have to face them sometime."

"I'm not going back in," Jared insisted, digging in his heels. "They'll know. Even if my eyes look better, they'll still know."

"They won't know, Jared," Ethan said firmly, grasping him by the shoulders and steering him out the barn door. "And you have to go back in. You cannot stay in the barn until they leave."

"Yes, I can," Jared muttered half-heartedly.

"No. You can't," Ethan repeated. "Fox and I are riding out to check on the stock, and you're going to have to entertain Gideon while we're gone. That's what I came in to tell you earlier."

Jared stopped dead in the center of the path. "You're leaving me ALONE with him??"

"He's not a wild beast, Jared," Ethan told him. "If you can face down a bear, you can face Gideon. *Without* hitting."

~~~~

Jared laid out his cards on the table as Gideon looked over the books on the shelf. Other than his low-voiced apology to Gideon, and Gideon's equally choked apology in return, the two hadn't spoken to each other. As far as Jared was concerned, it could stay that way until Ethan returned. He sighed, knowing that the older man was going to be disappointed by his behavior, but unable to help himself. Finding the hard chair too uncomfortable, he gathered up the cards and shuffled them, then put them away and got out a mixing bowl. He might as well do something productive with his time.

"What's that?"

"What?" Jared asked, startled that Gideon had broken his silence.

"What are you making?" Gideon asked hesitantly, coming over to the table.

"Cookies. Ethan likes them and the jar is empty."

Biting his lip, Gideon frowned. "Did you make the ones we had yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"They sure were good." Gideon watched wistfully as Jared cracked eggs into the bowl. "I wish I knew how to cook."

"It's not that hard." Jared industriously beat the eggs.

Gideon's frown deepened as he watched his host's labors. "It is for me," he replied gloomily. "*Everything* I make comes out inedible. I tried to make bread once and it was awful. The outside was so hard you couldn't cut through it, the inside was doughy and full of holes, and it tasted terrible. Even the chickens wouldn't eat it."

Jared laughed in spite of himself, then looked stricken. "I'm sorry, Gideon. I didn't mean to laugh."

"It's all right," Gideon said. "It was pretty funny. I thought chickens were supposed to eat anything, but they sure hated my bread."

"I'll tell you what," Jared said impulsively, anxious to make up for his gaffe. "Let me finish the cookies, then we can make bread for supper, and I'll show you what you did wrong."

"You'd do that, for me?" Gideon asked, tentatively. "I...I... That would be great." He paused. "I am sorry about your book, Jared. I didn't mean to tear it."

"I'm sorry I shoved you," Jared said gruffly.

There was a long, awkward pause.

"So, do you like ham and beans?" Jared asked to fill the silence.

"Sure. As long as it isn't bear and beans," Gideon replied with a rueful laugh.

~~~~

Ethan and Damien rode into the yard at dusk, tired but content with their afternoon's work. All of the stock had weathered the storm without a problem, and the one section of fence that had blown down was easily repaired.

"You think they got along?" Damien asked, nodding toward the cabin.

"Well, there's no one sitting out on the porch, and I don't hear any yelling," Ethan replied as he swung down off Lucifer's back and led him into the barn.

"You don't suppose they fought again, do you?"

Ethan considered it. "No, I don't think so. We both made our feelings pretty clear about the fighting. They're probably still ignoring each other. I bet they haven't said a word all day."

"Probably just sat there and stared at each other," Damien agreed.

Jared was standing at the stove frying potatoes as they came in, whistling softly to himself and oblivious to their presence. Gideon was nowhere in sight, but before they had time to worry his voice came from the pantry.

"I found it! It was on the top shelf, toward the back."

He came back into the main room, triumphantly carrying a crock of strawberry jam.

"Oh, hi, Damien," he said cheerfully as he saw them standing in the doorway. "I didn't know you were back already."

"You look like you've been busy, Mouse," Damien said, staring at his partner. Gideon's shirt was covered with flour and there was a large smudge of it on his forehead where he'd repeatedly pushed his hair out of his eyes. "What happened to your hand?"

Gideon looked down at the angry red streak on the side of his wrist. "I burned it taking my bread out of the oven."

"*Your* bread?" Damien asked, as he grasped the wrist and turned it for a closer look.

"Yeah, he made it all by himself," Jared said, turning from the stove. "All I did was tell him how."

"Jared said that he'll teach me to cook other stuff, too," Gideon said happily. "He said our ranch isn't far from here, so we can ride back and forth and visit each other."

"If that's all right with you two," Jared added anxiously. "Is it?"

The two older men looked at each other with profound surprise.

"Is it all right with you, Fox?" Ethan asked.

"Yes," Damien replied. "More than all right."

"Good," said Jared. "Let's eat."