Chapter 3

Jared thought they slept sinfully late the next morning. The sun was already well over the horizon and he was sure they had missed breakfast but Ethan laughed when he expressed his concern.

"Nobody will be up before 7, if then," he explained as he led the way down the backstairs to the kitchen. "And breakfast won't be served until 8:30. We'll stop by the kitchen and get something to tide us over until then."

In contrast to the hushed, deserted feel of the rest of the house, the kitchen was a bustling hive of activity. A trio of young girls scurried about under the direction of a short, plump black woman in her late 50s or early 60s. Her turkey red calico dress was almost hidden by an immaculate white apron, a kerchief of the same red print covered her hair, and she was using a large wooden spoon like a baton to punctuate her sharp commands.

"Lilah, you stop teasing Rachel and get those trays set up before I take this spoon to your backside! Miz Constance ain't going to like it if her tea is late again. Rachel, get those breakfast rolls out of the oven and put out the butter and preserves and then take the nursery trays up. Kenzie! Where is that girl with the eggs? We won't have breakfast 'til dinnertime if she don't hurry up." As she turned to look for the errant young girl, she spotted the two men standing in the doorway and dropped her spoon, exclaiming, "Mr. Ethan! Welcome home! Ain't you a sight for sore eyes!"

"Eliza!" In a rare public display of affection, he ignored her outstretched hands to envelop her in an enormous bear hug. "It's good to see you again."

"Now don't be carrying on so, Mr. Ethan! It ain't seemly," she scolded as he released her, both pleased and flustered by his action. She smoothed her kerchief with one hand and her apron with the other, looking him over at the same time. "I swear, you get more like your granddaddy every day. He was a fine figure of a man and fine-mannered, too."

Ethan flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Eliza. I'm proud that you think so. I'd like you to meet Jared." He drew the younger man forward. "Jared, this is Eliza."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am" Jared said shyly, handing her the wooden spoon she had dropped. "Ethan has told me a lot about you. He says you make the best cookies he ever tasted."

"He surely did have his hand in the jar enough," she replied with a warm chuckle. "I never saw a boy pack away cookies the way he could. Now, you'll be wanting some breakfast to take to the stables with you." She turned to the girls, who had stopped work to watch the byplay. "Rachel, you quit gawking now and pour coffee for them. Lilah, you get me a couple of biscuits and then fetch some ham. Hurry now! Mr. Ethan don't have time to stand around waitin' for you, not if he's ridin' this morning."

Ethan and Jared walked down the lane to the stables, drinking coffee and eating biscuits spread with fresh butter and filled with ham while Ethan pointed out the various buildings and their functions. As they passed the smithy, a huge, muscular black man raised a hand in greeting and Ethan waved back but didn't pause to talk. "That's our farrier, Luke," he explained. "He knows everything there is to know about shoeing horses. He's the one who came up with the technique we used on Banjo's hooves."

Jeb caught up with them just before they reached the stables, mumbling good morning as he stuffed a last bite of biscuit into his mouth and brushed the crumbs from his shirt. "Sorry about that," he apologized after he swallowed. "I overslept a little."

There seemed to be a lot of people around the stables when they arrived, more than Jared thought would be necessary, even with so many horses. Ethan seemed to know most of them and, after a moment, Jared realized that they were all there to greet him and welcome him home. He stood quietly in the background, watching as Ethan shook hands and asked after the men and their families.

Jeb had disappeared and now reappeared leading a bay mare. Following him were two stable boys, one leading a chestnut mare and the other a huge black stallion, bigger even than Lucifer.

"Jojo, sir," the first boy explained shyly as he held out the reins of the mare and then gave Jared a leg up.

"Careful, Mr. Ethan, he's in a mood this morning," the other stable boy warned as he handed Ethan the reins of the stallion.

Ethan gestured for him to release the headstall and the stallion immediately plunged forward, bucking and squealing, fighting to rid himself of the unwanted rider. When that didn't work, he reared, almost going over backwards in his fight to dislodge the man on his back. Ethan promptly threw his weight forward, forcing him down, then as the horse's forefeet hit the ground, he pulled the reins hard to the right, forcing the animal into ever-tightening circles, until his nose was almost touching his own flank. The stallion wasn't giving up, however, and plunged forward again as soon as the reins were loosened.

"That's Black Phantom," Jeb explained from the chestnut's back as they backed off to give Ethan plenty of room. "They can trace his blood lines back to Bulle Rock and he's sired more foals than any other stallion around. People have brought mares more than fifty miles to be covered by him. He's real high-strung, though, and has a temper to match. They say nobody can handle him but Hoke and Great-Uncle James."

"Ethan can ride him," Jared replied confidently, eyes on his partner as the stallion continued the battle.

"How long has it been since he's been ridden?" Ethan demanded irritably when he had finally brought the stallion to a stand, removing his hat and wiping the sweat from his brow.

An old black man came forward, gaunt and grizzled with age and Jared realized this must be Hoke, the man who had kept the horses safe during the war "Nearly four months," he replied. "Since your daddy had that last fall and his leg got too bad to handle the strain. I'm too old to ride him anymore, Malachi broke his arm trying and the boys are all too light. None of them can stay in the saddle more than a couple minutes."

"Why didn't Aaron--" Ethan began, then bit back an obvious oath as he took in the number of gawkers. "Are you boys ready to go?"

As Jeb and Jared nodded assent, he led the way out of the stable yard and down the lane, Jeb and Jared following behind. There was little conversation at first as the stallion continued to test Ethan, shying and the sidestepping at every opportunity. Ethan had his hands full and the younger men studied his actions, both attempting to learn from his talent and experience.

As they left the lane for a bridle trail leading through the woods, Phantom finally seemed to accept Ethan as his master. He settled down and pranced sedately along the trail with Jeb close behind and Jared bringing up the rear.

From this position, he could watch both Ethan and Jeb as they chatted and admire their ease in the saddle. He had come a long way under Ethan's tutelage, but he was still more at home in the deep Spanish saddle used in the West than the light English type they used here.

As he followed the other men, half-listening to their conversation, he felt more relaxed than he had in days. The morning was crisp and cool, the dew still sparkling on the grass and he didn't think he had ever seen so many shades of green. The trail wound through sun-dappled woods, crossing and recrossing a narrow creek. The air was filled with the chirps and twitters of a myriad of birds, gray squirrels chattered in the treetops overhead and several times he caught sight of a plump cottontail frozen under a bush, hoping to go unnoticed as they passed. It was no wonder Ethan missed it sometimes; it was beautiful.

They returned to the stables about an hour later and found Hoke and Luke waiting for them while a stocky young man in his early twenties hovered nearby. As they dismounted a trio of stable boys hurried up, took the reins from them and led the horses away to be groomed and turned out to pasture.

"I'll see you at breakfast," Jeb said hurriedly before following after them.

"See you then," Ethan replied, then turned to introduce Jared to the waiting men. "Well, Luke," he said after Jared had tipped his hat and murmured a greeting to them, "you ready to give up on this place and come west yet?"

"No, suh. They cain't run this place without me yet," Luke replied with a grin, then turned serious as he indicated the young man behind him. "But Caleb here sure would like to. He's got his heart set on bein' a cowboy. Me and his mama don't want him goin' west on his own, though." He twisted his fingers in his leather apron, looking to Hoke for support before continuing, "We was hopin' you might have a place for him or know of one close by you. He's a hard worker and real good with the horses."

"If you and Hoke trained him I'm sure he is," Ethan agreed, "and I'd take him in a heartbeat, but we're not big enough to need extra help yet and nobody else is hiring this time of year." He raised his hand as the young man's face fell. "Hold on, that doesn't mean we can't help you out, just that it might take a little time."

"What about Ross?" Jared suggested diffidently. "He'll be cutting hands after roundup but he'll be hiring again in the spring."

"Ross would take him in the spring if we recommend him." Ethan nodded. "Do you have an outfit, Caleb? A horse and saddle," he explained as the young man looked puzzled, "rope and chaps, a bedroll and the other gear you need."

"No, not all of it yet. But I've been savin' my money and I'll have it come spring," Caleb said determinedly. "Just tell me what all I need to get."

"Don't buy it here and carry it all that way," Ethan told him. "Take the train out to our place in the late spring and we'll have everything waiting for you."

"At a fair price," Luke warned him. "We don't aim to take no charity."

"Don't worry, I'll make a profit on the deal," Ethan assured him. "Jared can run the figures and give you an estimate before we leave."

Thank you," Caleb replied gratefully, then hesitated before shyly adding, "Do you think you could take a look at my ridin' and ropin', tell me what I need to know and maybe give me some pointers? I been practicin' but I'm not doin' it all right and I don't know how to fix it."

"Of course." Ethan glanced at the sky and then at his watch. "But it will have to be after breakfast. We need to get back to the house or we're going to be late."

"I'll be waiting," Caleb assured him.

"Can you do the figures for me?" Ethan asked Jared as they walked back to the house together.

"Now?" he asked doubtfully. He had expected the question and even been proud when Ethan told Luke he would be doing the figuring. It made him feel like a real partner. It also made him a little apprehensive.

Ethan had been teaching him to figure profit and expenses and often used the calculations in his lessons, but doing the calculations when Ethan gave him the numbers and he had a slate in hand was one thing. Figuring them out for himself and doing mental arithmetic while he was walking up the road was a lot harder.

"You can do it," Ethan encouraged him. "Start by picking the horse."

"Um... Scrubs?" Jared went over their current inventory in his head and chose an animal Ethan had picked up cheap and planned to winter over for sale in the spring. He wasn't a top cutting horse but he was steady and reliable. He was also the type who could cope with an inexperienced rider and show him how to get the job done at the same time. Jared was rewarded by Ethan's approving nod.

"Good choice. Next, you'll need to figure what we paid for him, how much it will cost to keep him over the winter and how much profit we want to make. You can do that part later, though," he said as they arrived at the house. "Right now, we need to get washed up for breakfast. Father is a stickler for punctuality and it used to be that coming in after grace meant you had to stand in the hall until everyone else had finished eating. I'd rather not see if the rule is still enforced."

Jared grinned at the idea of anyone making Ethan stand in the hall now but obligingly picked up his pace.

To his surprise, breakfast was served neither in the dining room where they had eaten the night before or in the kitchen. No wonder they needed such a big house he thought critically as he followed Ethan into the breakfast room. They had a different room for every meal.

Still, the breakfast room was nicer than the more formal dining room he had seen the night before. It was smaller and cosier, facing east so the bright morning sun streamed cheerfully through windows framed by white muslin curtains. The wallpaper in this room was the most sensible Jared had seen yet, a plain pale blue background with small white flowers scattered across it.

They entered the room with moments to spare and hastily seated themselves as the clock struck the half hour. Everyone bowed their heads and James said a short grace.

As soon as he finished, servant girls entered the room with heaping platters of sausage, biscuits and eggs, followed by bowls of gravy and grits, while Joseph moved about the table filling cups with coffee or tea. Conversation was desultory at first and Jared used the time to review the family members yet again.

With only the immediate family at the table, it was much easier for him to identify people. James sat at the head with Ethan and Aaron on either side of him. He seemed taciturn, eating very little, preoccupied with the newspaper that had been delivered from town that morning.

Alice May, Margaret and Constance were clustered in quiet conversation at the other end of the table and Jeb, seated next to Jared, seemed lost in a world of his own. Across the table, Seth and Henry were also quiet, eyelids drooping, looking like they would rather still be in bed.

A little shy about starting a conversation on his own, Jared made steady inroads on the sausage, biscuits and gravy instead, comparing their taste and texture with his own recipes. He was wondering what kind of seasoning Eliza put in the sausage and if she would share the recipe with him when James folded his newspaper, handed it to Joseph and spoke.

"Did you ride Phantom?" he asked abruptly.

"Yes, I did." Ethan put his fork down as he replied and, although his tone was calm and even, Jared could feel the tension radiating from him.

"I thought you would." He smiled in satisfaction and then added, in an obvious slap at his elder son, "He needs a rider he respects, someone who can show him who's in charge."

"He needs to be properly trained," Ethan contradicted bluntly. "Not allowed to pick and choose his riders."

James froze, along with everyone else at the table. There was a small gasp of outrage from Alice May and then dead silence.

Before James could respond, Constance intervened, addressing Seth and Henry in her calm, tranquil way, "What do you boys have planned for today?"

"We thought we'd go rabbit hunting this morning," Henry mumbled around a mouthful of eggs. "If that's all right."

"I'm sure Aaron can arrange that for you," she replied.

"I'll unlock the gunroom for you after breakfast," he told them, following Constance's lead, and there was a collective sigh as the explosion was averted.

"You want to come along, Jared?" Seth asked.

"I don't know." Jared hesitated, unsure what to say. "I don't know what Ethan has planned."

"Nothing special. You can go if you want to," Ethan said as he picked up his fork again.

"All right. I'd like to, then. Oh," he thought of something else, "what about Caleb? Won't he be waiting for us?"

"Why would Caleb be waiting for you?" Aaron asked suspiciously.

Jared bit his lip at the tone, realizing too late the mistake he had made. He should have waited to ask Ethan privately, not blurted it out at the table. He just wasn't good at this family thing, he thought miserably.

"He wants to move out west and find a job on a ranch," Ethan explained. "He--

"Came to you for advice. Naturally," Aaron interrupted bitterly. "Some things never change, do they?"

"Well, in this case it makes sense," Ethan replied evenly. "It isn't like you know very many ranchers who are looking for new hands."

Aaron's fists clenched as his voice rose. "That's because I stayed home and took care of my responsibilities instead of having a tantrum and running off when I didn't get my own way!"

"If you were taking care of your responsibilities, I wouldn't be the only man on the place capable of riding that stud!" Ethan swiftly retaliated. "So don't take that self-righteous tone with me!"

"Enough!" James' voice easily cut through Aaron's angry reply. "I will not have this behavior at the breakfast table!" He roughly shoved his chair away from the table and stalked out of the room, his cane thumping forcefully with every step.

He left an uncomfortable silence in his wake, everyone studiously contemplating their plates or staring out the window, looking anywhere but at the two combatants.

"I'm sorry, Aaron," Ethan apologized stiffly. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Forget it." Aaron got up and stalked out after their father.

After a few moments, Ethan dropped his napkin on the table and, with a murmured apology to the ladies, left as well.

Jared immediately abandoned his breakfast and followed. "I'm so sorry, Ethan," he miserably offered his own apology as he caught up with the older man in the hall.

"About what?" Ethan stopped and turned to face him.

"About making your father and Aaron angry and causing a fight. I didn't mean to make trouble."

"It's all right, little boy. You didn't do anything wrong," Ethan ran his hand through his hair. "I made my father angry, not you, and Aaron was looking for a fight. If it hadn't been that it would have been something else."

"What are we going to do now?" he asked, determined to support Ethan in any way he could.

"You're going to go rabbit hunting, little boy," Ethan told him affectionately. "And have a good time with some young men your own age."

"But what about you? What are you going to do? Do you want me to stay with you?"

Ethan smiled. "Don't worry about me; I'm going to look around the place, get reacquainted with some people, visit my mother's grave. You go on, have some fun with the boys."

"If you're sure..." Jared began doubtfully.

"I'm sure."

"What about Caleb?"

"I'll take a look at him this morning and then you can give us a hand later if need be."

"All right. If you're sure." Jared started to turn, then hesitated again. "Ethan?"

"Yes?"

"I need to change my boots if I'm going to go tramping through the woods." His riding boots, in addition to not being suitable for long hikes, were getting too small. His toes were badly pinched and he hated wearing them for any amount of time.

"All right." Ethan obviously didn't see what the problem was.

"I don't know how to get to our room," he confessed sheepishly. "Can you show me again?"

Ethan laughed but obligingly led Jared to their rooms, waited while he changed his boots, then escorted him back down to the gun room. It was open and he could hear Aaron's voice within, giving advice to Seth and Henry.

Not wanting to deal with his brother just yet, he left Jared at the door and went on down the hall and out into the garden. He wandered idly at first, selecting a rose here and there until he had a sheaf of them, then ended his walk at the small family cemetery.

This situation would never have happened while his mother was alive, he thought as he laid the flowers on her grave. She had been the family peacekeeper then, much like Constance was now. She had never directly contradicted his father but somehow she had seemed to ease his temper and soften his dictates, just as she had managed to soothe tempers and quell arguments between her sons..

He knew his father hadn't always been the harsh, demanding man that he was now but he barely remembered the man who had left for the war. James had never been very demonstrative but he had returned from the war almost a stranger, wounded in both body and soul, scarred by the loss of so many of his men - men that he had been responsible for, friends and family members that he had known all their lives.

Then, instead of being allowed to grieve in peace, he had been forced by the death of his own father to take up the reins at home, to humble himself before the damned yankees in order to take care of the many people who now depended on him. The final blow had come with the death of his beloved wife and Ethan could see why he had become obsessed with the permanence and continuity of the family and its traditions. Since the advent of Jared, he could more readily understand his father's loss and sympathize with the depths of his grief.

But not enough to sacrifice his own life. He briskly shook off the introspective mood and, with a short detour by the kitchen for more coffee and a handful of cookies, headed down to the stables.

He spent some time sitting on the paddock fence watching Caleb and offering advice, praising the younger man's horsemanship as Caleb dismounted next to him. "I think you could benefit from a couple of roping lessons," he continued, "but I'd like to have Jared assist with those."

"May I take part in them as well?" Jeb asked from his spot on the fence railing.

"If you want to," Ethan agreed. "Are you thinking of becoming a cowboy, too?"

Jeb shook his head. "No, I'd never leave Virginia; I just want to learn everything I can about horses. I'd like to have my own farm someday."

"You should talk to Hoke, then," Ethan recommended as he jumped down from the railing. "He's forgotten more about horses than most men learn in a lifetime."

Jeb nodded his assent and, after Caleb had willingly agreed to the roping lessons and returned to his work, they went to help move yearlings to new pasture. The place was looking good, Ethan acknowledged as he helped with various tasks around the farm. Aaron might not do any of the hands-on work but he was excellent at administration.

Unfortunately, it took not only good administration but someone who had a talent for horses, and for the ins and outs of breeding and training, to reach its full potential. And, no matter what his father thought, that someone wasn't going to be him. He shook his head irritably and went to ask Hoke what he should do next.

By lunchtime his mood had greatly improved and he was wondering if their bank balance would run to a couple of the promising 2-year-olds they were training. He regretfully decided it wouldn't. They had already spent a lot on the trip, he and Jared both needed new boots, and he wanted to buy some tack a little more advanced than he could get in Solitude. He sure would like to have the 2-year-olds, though.

He was sitting outside the stables eating cold fried chicken and biscuits with Jeb when the rabbit hunters came tramping by. "How did it go?" he asked as Jared handed his gun and game bag to the others and came to join him.

"Fine," Jared replied with a slight grimace, sitting down on the wooden bench next to Ethan.

"More talking than hunting?" Ethan guessed shrewdly as he selected another piece of chicken.

"Yeah," Jared admitted. "But I had a good time anyway," he hurried to add with a sidelong glance at Jeb.

"It's all right," Jeb told him cheerfully. "That's why I don't hunt with them. They talk so much they scare all the game away. You want something to eat?" He waved a hand at the plate of chicken.

"No, thanks," Jared declined the offer. "Eliza packed a lunch for us."

Jeb grinned. "Then you won't need to eat for the next week. I need to get back to work. Talk to you later." He tossed his chicken bone into the trash, wiped off his hands and disappeared into the stable yard.

"What did you do all morning?" Jared asked after the other man had left. He stretched his legs out in front of him and absently-mindedly took a biscuit to nibble on.

"Talked to Hoke and Luke, worked with Caleb a little, spent some time with the horses. I want to give Caleb a roping lesson later on and I'll need your help with that."

"Sure," Jared agreed obligingly. "You want to do it this afternoon?"

"No." Ethan tossed his chicken bone into the trash and wiped off his hands. "I'd like to clean up and go into town this afternoon. We need to order our boots so they'll be ready before we go home and before I give into temptation and spend the money on horses."

Jared laughed. "We can always ride the new horses barefoot," he teased.

"It would get a little cold when we have snow on the ground," Ethan pointed out. "And if we don't get your new boots soon, we'll have to cut off the ends of your old ones to make room for your feet. You ready to go? We need to leave if we're going to be back in time for dinner."

"Sure," Jared agreed again. "Lead the way."

He had enjoyed the morning, though; Jared's thoughts returned to the earlier conversation as he tossed his hat on the bed, stripped off his shirt and poured water into the wash basin. It had been a little confusing at first, until he figured out that rabbit hunting wasn't the primary purpose of their little expedition.

Seth and Henry had sauntered along, laughing and talking, much more interested in their stories than in looking for tracks or finding promising burrows. At first, Jared had wondered if they could really be that inept but he gradually realized that they simply didn't take hunting seriously. It was entertainment here, not something required in order to put food on the table. After that he had relaxed and had a good time, laughing and telling his share of stories.

Gideon had been right, he decided as he finished washing up. They had been thrilled by the most mundane aspects of his life, almost as thrilled as he had been to come back to find his room tidied and the bed made, along with clean clothing that he hadn't washed and ironed. He guessed it all depended on what you were used to.

After buttoning his clean shirt, he sat down on the neatly-made bed, making a face as he squeezed his feet back into his riding boots. He wished they didn't have to ride again today or that he could wear his work boots.

According to Ethan, though, Aaron was taking the single-seat buggy on business and the women would use the carriage for their afternoon calls. He already knew that Henry and Seth would be using the second buggy to pick up their sisters because they had complained bitterly about it while they were hunting. That left the wagons, which apparently weren't considered appropriate transportation, and riding as their only options and Ethan didn't like him to ride in work boots unless he had to.

"Ready to go, little boy?" Ethan asked as he came through the door connecting their rooms.

He had also washed up and changed into clothing more suitable for a trip to town and Jared took a moment to admire his handsome partner before replying, "I think so." He tucked in his shirt, adjusted his vest and picked up his hat. He went out the door ahead of Ethan and hesitated, then turned right.

"Other way, little boy," Ethan told him and he sighed as he turned around. Their cabin might be small but at least he could find his way from the bed to the door.

Their first stop in town was Higgin's Shoe Emporium and Jared looked around with interest as they entered; he had never seen a store that sold only footwear before. Higgins sold factory-made shoes as well as custom-fit and there were shelves of boots and shoes in every imaginable size and style for men, women and children. A couple of men were browsing the shelves and they lifted their hats when Ethan and Jared came in, while a lady looking at children's shoes nodded and smiled at them.

Mr. Higgins, a short, stout man with a short gray fringe of hair surrounding his bald pate came bustling through a curtained doorway in the back of the store. "Ethan! It's good to see you again!" he greeted them warmly, and immediately led them back to a private fitting area.

He and Ethan chatted easily as Jared took off his boots, unable to resist a sigh of relief as his toes were released from their prison. He stood patiently while Mr. Higgins drew around his feet to make a pattern, measured his ankles and calves, and filled Ethan in on the current doings of a seemingly endless number of progeny.

He listened quietly as they discussed the modifications of heel and sole that Ethan required on their boots, but when it was Ethan's turn to be measured he quietly excused himself and went out into the main shop once more. While it was all very well to have custom boots made to fit his exact specifications, he didn't intend to have his toes squashed for however long it took to get them done.

He returned to the back room as Ethan was negotiating a price for the two pairs of boots and caught his eye. "Ethan?" he said hesitantly, holding up another pair. "I think these would fit me."

"Good idea," Ethan praised his forethought. "Add those to the bill, Mr. Higgins. He can wear them until the new ones are ready."

"But, Ethan--" Jared objected. He had been going to suggest that they buy the second pair of boots instead of the custom ones, not along with them. What was he going to do with two pair of riding boots? His protests were overruled, though, and they left the store with his feet in new boots and an assurance that the others would be ready before they left for home.

Their next stop was West's Saddlery where Ethan and the owner were soon deep in conversation that seemed to mix gossip going back twenty years with the pros and cons of the various tack. Jared ignored the gossip but listened intently as they discussed what was considered essential, what was a luxury, and how many luxuries Ethan could afford.

As they dickered, Jared began to see a pattern emerge. Mr. West would put an item on the 'essential' end of the counter and Ethan would move it to the 'luxury' end. They would debate it vociferously and then sometimes the item would move to the essential end - with a slightly lower price attached - and sometimes it would go back on the shelf or, occasionally, onto a new luxury pile.

By the time they had finished there was a large pile of essential items and a much smaller one of luxury goods. Ethan weighed these carefully, moving one or two to the essential pile, then moving one back, picking up another and looking at it thoughtfully before he decided on the ones he wanted.

"I spent more than I wanted to but I think it was worth it," Ethan commented after they had finally placed their order and left the shop. "I would have liked that other breast collar but I got everything I intended to."

Jared paused in the middle of the walk. "Did we spend too much? Do we need the breast collar? We can cancel the order for my riding boots if we need to, Ethan. I don't need two pairs of boots; I wear my work boots most of the time and these ready-made ones fit me just fine."

Ethan put a hand in the middle of Jared's back and gave him a small push to get him moving again. "No, we aren't canceling your boots; the ones you have on are fine as a spare pair but I want you to have the custom-fit ones, too. I said I spent more than I wanted to, not more than we can afford."

Jared stopped again. "But this trip is costing a lot of money," he pointed out stubbornly. "And we won't be able to make very much over the winter."

"It is," Ethan agreed, "but, thanks to you, we were able to put extra money in the bank this year and we won't be spending very much over the winter either. We have more than enough for the trip and to tide us over until spring. Now, come on. There's another store I think you'll like."

He led the way down the street to a store with a sign hanging over door that read, 'Giles Broughton, Bookseller'. A small bell jingled as they pushed the door open and Jared paused in the doorway, eyes widening in amazement. Books, old and new, of every size, color and description, covered in bindings from the cheapest paper to the most expensive leather, filled and overflowed the heavy wooden bookshelves. It would take a lifetime to read all these books. He didn't even know where to begin.

Ethan gently pushed him into the store and he flushed, hoping no one had noticed his gawking. A dark-haired man perhaps thirty years old sat behind a high desk near the door, attending to two demure young ladies, and he gave a nod of his head as they entered. To Jared's relief, nobody else seemed to be paying attention to them.

They looked around the store while waiting for the proprietor to finish with the girls and, as Jared looked more closely, he realized it was divided into sections separated by the bookshelves. One secluded alcove held several comfortable leather chairs scattered about where they would receive the best light. Two or three men sat in this area, reading newspapers or paging through monthly journals.

Ethan quietly explained that this was a reading room. For a small yearly subscription, the men could come in and read newspapers and periodicals from all over the country. Some even came from other countries, although the news was slightly out of date by the time they arrived.

The store also boasted a lending library, where, for a similar yearly fee, one could choose a book, take it home to read and then exchange it for another one. While you couldn't keep the book permanently, Ethan explained, it was much cheaper than buying each book and gave one access to a wide variety of reading material.

Off to one side, Jared could see a workroom evidently used for bookmaking and mending, and the rest of the store was devoted to the sale of books, both new and used.

Ethan showed him how these were organized according to their subject and author and Jared, after looking to him for permission, picked out a book by Mark Twain, leafing through it and then putting it back and looking at another.

"Can we buy one?" he whispered hopefully. "To take home with us?"

"We're going to buy several," Ethan told him with a quiet chuckle. "You pick out two or three for us to read this winter while I find more schoolbooks for you."

The proprietor finished with the young ladies and came over to them. "I heard you were in town, Ethan!" he exclaimed, shaking hands vigorously. "Why don't I ever hear from you? Don't they have pen and paper out west?"

Ethan returned the hearty greeting with one of his own and Jared couldn't help noticing a subtle difference between his attitude toward this storekeeper and the others they had met that day. He returned to his perusal of the book he was holding, stealing sidelong glances at the two men as he tried to figure it out.

Giles was taller than Jared, about the same height as Ethan but narrower through the shoulders and chest than Ethan was. His dark hair needed to be cut and was disordered, as if he frequently ran his hand through it, and he wore small silver spectacles that he kept pushing back into place . His clothing was neat but not ostentatious and Jared couldn't see anything about him that was different from the other men he had met that day. But there was something...

"But I'm forgetting my manners," Giles said suddenly, looking courteously toward Jared. "Introduce us, Ethan."

"This is my partner, Jared Mercier," Ethan explained, drawing him forward. "Jared, this is Giles Broughton, one of my oldest and closest friends."

"I'm pleased to meet you," Jared said politely, while wondering if he had imagined Ethan's slight emphasis on the word partner.

"I'm pleased to meet you, as well," Giles told him with a warm smile. "What kind of books are you looking for?"

"I don't know, really," he replied hesitantly. "I liked Tom Sawyer and Treasure Island."

"Both authors have new books." He showed Jared copies of 'The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn' and 'The Black Arrow'. "You might also like Sir Walter Scott."

The bell over the door interrupted him. "Excuse me a moment, please. I have a translation of Homer you might be interested in, Ethan" he said over his shoulder as he went to wait on the ladies who had entered, "both 'The Odessey' and 'The Iliad' done by William Cullen Bryant. It's on the bottom shelf on the right."

While he was gone, Jared chose both books as well as used copies of 'Rob Roy' and 'Ivanhoe'. "Can you look at these?" he asked softly. "I can't decide between them."

"Get all of them if you want to," Ethan told him. "It will be awhile before we have this much selection again." He had set aside several books himself, including history and geography books for Jared, the Homer and a volume of plays by Shakespeare.

"Sorry about that," Giles said as he rejoined them. "What--" The bell jangled again and he rolled his eyes.

"Maybe we should come back another time," Ethan suggested.

"It's almost time to close," Giles told them, glancing at the clock. "Why don't you come to the house for supper? That would give us all evening to talk."

Ethan hesitated. "I told Joseph we would be home in time for dinner."

"You could send them a message," the bookseller suggested. "Stephen will still be at the office; he could stop by the house and tell them on his way home. Please? There's a full moon for your ride home and Tilly was making a chocolate cake when I left," he added persuasively.

Ethan hesitated a moment longer, looking toward Jared as if seeking his opinion, and Jared nodded. "All right," he decided. "We'll see if Stephen will carry the message and then meet you at the house later."

After he paid for the books, he and Jared walked to the law firm where they asked Stephen to pass on the message. Ethan lingered for a few moments to talk to his former associates and then they went on to Giles' home.

It was a modest house on a quiet side street and Jared immediately felt more comfortable in the bachelor's quarters than he did in the huge, pristine Montgomery home. The sitting room Giles led them into was clean but cluttered. There were books everywhere Jared looked, jumbled together with papers on most of the horizontal surfaces and piled in untidy stacks on the floor around the fireplace and window.

"Please excuse the disarray." Giles moved a stack of periodicals from the sofa so they could sit down. "I bought these at an estate sale last week and I'm trying to value them before I take them into the store." He picked up a small stuffed horse from a wing chair and set it to one side. "My son's," he explained absently and Jared could feel Ethan stiffen beside him.

"Your son's?" Ethan repeated, his voice showing only polite interest.

"Yes, I married Melanie Adams shortly after you left," Giles explained with a melancholy sigh. "She died giving birth to Tobias a year later. He lives with her sister but visits here often. But you aren't interested in that." He visibly shook off his mood. "I assume you've found a place to raise your precious horses?"

"And some cattle," Ethan replied with a smile. "But mostly our precious horses." He obviously didn't mind the description and talk of the ranch took them through the awkward moment.

Jared greatly enjoyed the rest of the evening. They were served chicken and dumplings for dinner, the best Jared had ever tasted, followed by thick slices of a rich chocolate layer cake. Afterwards, they moved back into the sitting room, where they drank coffee and continued to talk. It seemed as if Ethan and Giles were determined to catch up on six years of news in one evening.

Their conversation ranged over a wide variety of topics, from the ranch to the bookstore, from hometown affairs to national politics, from current news to reminisces about their boyhood escapades. Both included Jared in the conversation, drawing him out when he would have been content to sit back and listen to them talk.

"Ethan was a terrible law clerk," Giles told Jared with a twinkle in his eye. "You would think someone who enjoys reading as much as he does would make a good clerk but not Ethan. Do you remember the time you were supposed to copy Mr. Eaton's will, Ethan? According to his account," he told Jared, "Mr. Eaton left his eldest son the house and the farm. He left the younger one - what was it, Ethan? Chickweed mixed with warm beeswax, to be vigorously massaged into the underside of his tail?"

"Goldenseal and comfrey," Ethan corrected through the laughter. "I was copying a salve recipe for the foals at the same time. But at least I didn't set the barn on fire trying to read Shakespeare while milking. Or throw rocks at a bear."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Jared protested weakly as Giles demanded the full story.

"Look at the time," Ethan said at last. "We need to be getting home."

"It was good seeing you again, Ethan," Giles said as he walked them to the door. "And I'm glad I got a chance to meet you, Jared."

"Are you coming to the barbeque?" Ethan asked. "It should be a good party."

"I wouldn't miss it," Giles declared. "I'll see you then."

"See you then."

Jared was quiet during the ride back to the farm, both because shadows were deceptive in the moonlight and because he was thinking about the evening.

"He's the one, isn't he?" he asked bluntly as they were preparing for bed later on.

"The one what?" Ethan asked. He tossed his pillow on the bed, blew out the lamp and opened the draperies, allowing moonlight to flood the room.

"He was your lover, the one you spent the night with after your engagement party." Jared hung his clothes neatly over the chair and got into bed.

"Yes, he was," Ethan replied honestly. "But that was a long time ago."

"But he still would be if things had been different, if you hadn't left."

Ethan got into bed and plumped up his pillow before replying, "He was my lover, little boy, but you're my partner and you always will be."

"But if things had been different--"

"Jared," Ethan said patiently as he settled down and pulled the younger man into his arms. "He wouldn't be my partner, even if things had been different. He doesn't like horses."

"Oh." Curiously reassured, Jared curled up against his partner's side and went to sleep.

tbc