Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage © Copyright Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward, 2009 Published by Dreamspinner Press 4760 Preston Road Suite 244-149 Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover Art by Paul Richmond http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com Cover Design by Mara McKennen This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ Released in the United States of America December 2009 eBook Edition eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-343-8

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward

S HORTER days and colder nights made for slow going on the trail, but Gideon Makepeace didn’t mind, and he knew his companion didn’t either. Any excuse to be out of doors and away from the judging eyes of civilized white folks was reason for celebration for Jedediah Buffalo Bird, even with temperatures cold enough to nip at their toes through leather boots and wool socks and bite hard at his wrists where they were bare between coat and gloves. The winter chill in the air made this part of the Arizona territory even more crisp and clear; every morning they woke to white frost that blanketed the barren ground like snow and blue skies so clear it made his eyes hurt to stare up into them. The icy frost hollered “Winter!” at him, and he thought of Christmas coming. It might almost be upon them now, though Gideon had lost track of time since they’d left the Pacific coast, and he didn’t know exactly what day it was. He glanced over at his companion and felt his heart go all mushy at the serene look on those handsome, foreign features. The eastern sun had only just climbed high enough that it wasn’t in their eyes any longer; Jed’s hat shaded his face, and that squinting scowl had faded now that the man wasn’t half-blinded. “Storm coming in,” Jed said, his first real words since they’d broken camp this morning. He’d hummed for a while, those deep 2

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward guttural words of his people that meant nothing to Gideon’s head but somehow still spoke to his soul. The Injuns, they’d had something that Gideon’s white culture lacked; that “something” was a big part of what made Gideon love this man so. “I reckon,” he said, agreeable. “Cold,” Jed added. “We might see snow.” Gideon didn’t care overmuch. If they were caught in the wild they’d dig in, find a cave or make a lean-to under a tree, build themselves a nice big fire and have the weather as an excuse to cuddle close together. Not that they looked for excuses; they were still too new to each other, and just a look or a smile could inspire want in the other. But they’d picked up a stage route on the east side of the desert, and the excuse would be helpful if they ran into people. “We’ll bump into a town soon enough,” he said. He was itching to know what day it was. Itching for a hot bath, too, if there was one to be had. Jed frowned at him. He smiled back, fascinated by his beloved’s expressive features. “Don’t be like that,” he chided gently. “We’re just passin’ through; they won’t give you any trouble.” Jed’s mother had been a Sioux, his father an unknown white man who’d visited the worst of crimes upon the woman. It was the rape that had given Jed his Indian name, Buffalo Bird—for the birds that planted their eggs in the nest of another for the other family to rear. Jed might be a half-breed, but he carried his tribal blood high, with thick black hair and warm brown skin, and the flatter face that reminded Gideon a little of them Chinese. His eyes, though, were blue like a stormy sky, and when Gideon looked at them for too long, he forgot everything hard about the world. Jed honored his Indian 3

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward traditions too, wearing his hair long and keeping his eagle feather carefully tied to his saddle blanket. “Give us both trouble,” Jed said flatly. Gideon didn’t argue; it was a waste of breath he could ill afford in this chill, and he honestly had no idea how townsfolk in these parts would treat his man. “If they do,” he said simply, “we’ll move right on.” Jed frowned again, and Gideon flashed him a smile that he’d been assured could charm the birds right out of the trees. It seemed to have little effect on Jed, just increasing the furrow between his dark brows and deepening the lines beside his mouth. Gideon secretly thought that Jed resented being appeased, but before he could tease, he heard the barely audible hum from the back of Jed’s throat, hyuh-uhn-uhnnya, and he wondered what ghosts or spirits Jed was calling on. Not much later, Gideon started seeing signs of civilization: dirt tracks veered off this main road, wide enough for wagon ruts, and cleared fields along both sides of a swollen river lay fallow this time of year. “Where do you reckon that water’s coming from?” Gideon asked. They hadn’t seen rain since they’d turned away from the roads at the stagecoach stop in Victorville. “Sky,” Jed said. Gideon felt a grin tug at his lips. Jed’s outlook on life was simple, pure, even, and it went a long way to calm Gideon’s youthful energies. Before he could get to asking Jed to be serious with him, he heard that barely audible hum again, hyuh-uhn-uhn-nya. Didn’t seem right that Jed had so much faith in the unseen when his gods had done so little for his people. The temperature continued to drop over the next hour even as a 4

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward watery sun climbed toward its zenith, and soon enough they lost even that faint heat; the clouds Jed had remarked on had caught up to them, thick and dark and moving in fast from the west, bringing with them a chill that ate right through the back of his oilskin coat. The thought of rain made him glad they had a chance of a roof over their heads; Jed would call him soft, and he was. He’d grown up in luxury, compared to Jed. Life in a traveling show had been hard and lively, but you carried your wagons or train cars with you, so you never had to sleep too rough. “Won’t make it,” Jed said quietly. Still, the threatening rain was barely spitting at them by the time the outskirts of a town revealed themselves through sheep-mown grass and straight fence posts. When they passed the city limits sign that read, “Welcome to Kingman, Population 375,” Jed’s chanting faded until Gideon could just barely feel it in his bones. At the first picket fence, it stopped altogether. Gideon kneed Star over just long enough to tap a lean thigh and promise with his eyes that together they’d take whatever came. Not five minutes later the road bent alongside another branch of the river, and he saw buildings up ahead, and a passel of kids huddled out front of what must be the schoolhouse. This wasn’t some halfabandoned stage stop, but a real city, and the kids who’d just been let out of school lagged despite the icy rain, talking about Christmas and avoiding the work that waited for them at home. He felt a thrill of excitement, because real cities had real bathhouses. “Hey!” he called as they pulled alongside the school. “Where’s the livery around here?” Three boys broke from the gaggle of kids and ran for the fence, and the biggest one pointed down the street and volunteered, “Right that way, mister. Other side of town.” His eyes were big and wide and 5

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward glued to Jed’s dark skin and his long, black hair. “You a real Injun?” he asked, hushed. Gideon grimaced while Jed nodded. “Yeah,” Jed said. Then he flicked the reins and rode on. “Thanks, kid,” Gideon said, and he clucked Star into a trot to catch up. This town’s main street curved with the riverbank forty or fifty feet away. Even that distance looked too close, with white water running high. Right fine buildings all stood on the eastern side of the street, some of brick or stone, others of wood. He smelled the livery, or the manure pile sure to be in back of it, before he saw it, and tilted his head. “There you go,” he said when it came into view. The thick, black smoke of burning coal competed with the clean smell of horse manure, and he heard the rhythmic, heavy clang of steel on steel: must be a smithy here. “Could get Pony shoes while we’re here,” he said. “Never needed shoes yet,” Jed repeated his oft-worn phrase. “Never lived in a real city before,” Gideon reminded him. Jed’s pony was smart and as well-schooled as his own trick mare he’d raised and trained from a yearling. “I keep telling you, you leave it unshod on cobblestone streets and it’ll go lame.” Jed blinked. “No promises he’ll be on cobbles long enough to go lame.” Gideon sighed; whenever Jed felt the pressure of too many white eyes on him, he got snippy. But it wasn’t like Gideon could blame him.

6

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward He kicked his foot over the pommel and slid to dismount, tossing Star’s tied-together reins up over her head in a practiced move. The rain was getting heavier, as cold as a witch’s tit, but the smithy had a tin awning that stuck out a good twelve feet, plenty of room for them to ease their horses in out from under the weather. Jed stood back, though, and waited in the light, cold rain. “Afternoon,” Gideon said. The smith, a short brawny man at least twice Gideon’s twenty years, barely paused in his beating of orange-hot steel. “Stalls rent for a quarter a day,” he said. “That’s for hay, no oats.” Gideon took a step closer. “I’m more interested in a bath, to be honest, for me and my friend here.” He watched the smith look up, caught the narrowing of his eyes. “Bath around here might be too expensive, if you know what I mean.” “I’d pay just about any price I can afford,” he said, keeping it friendly. “Been on the trail a week now, and it’s damned cold.” He shivered involuntarily and rubbed his gloved hands together to warm them up. The heat from the smith’s forge almost reached to where he stood. The smith nodded. “Water in the corral’s free, if you pump it yourself. Store your tack in the shed alongside. Bathhouse is on Denney Street, thataway,” he directed with a nod of his head. “Might be a boarding house that’ll take him on Alder, but maybe not.” He sighed and stretched tall, and then used his tongs to pick up the hot steel off the anvil and drop it into a tub of water. Steam hissed and sizzled. “If not, come back by after you’ve ate and cleaned up. He can stay here in the loft, if worse comes to worse. Wouldn’t put man nor beast out on a night like tonight.” 7

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward “Thank you kindly,” Gideon said sincerely, “but I’d rather keep him with me.” At the smith’s frown, he went on, “I heard a rumor there was trouble here and there. Don’t want him to get caught on the wrong side of someone’s worry.” The smith’s frown faded a little and he nodded. “What with rumors of uprisings down ’round Fort Apache, people are a little more het up than they need to be. And we don’t see too many red-uns this far into the mountains. Best stay close to him.” Gideon flashed a grin at Jed, who was sure to have heard every word, and on whom this kind of generosity was almost completely wasted. “Much obliged. I’d be happy to bring you back some biscuits from wherever the best place to eat around here is?” At that the smith grinned, and even Jed would admit that they’d reached a friendly understanding. “Mrs. Colton’s, two doors from the bathhouse, other side of Denney Street.” Gideon reached to shake the man’s hand and tried not to wince at the firm grip, and then he followed his pointing finger to the corral at the side of the stable. The rain looked thicker now and felt even colder for his brief respite. “Jed, hurry it up,” he said as he stripped off Star’s saddle while Jed walked on over to open the corral gate. “Hate to put you out there, girl, but if we stay the night I’ll pay for a dry place for you,” he promised her. The smithy looked at him like he was loony, but he got that a lot; saddle and bags over one shoulder, he tugged off her bridle and stepped back. “Thank you,” he said, giving her a sign. She lowered her head almost to the ground and pawed lightly with her right hoof. “Back up. One, two, three….” She backed up a step each time he spoke, which always entertained folks who wanted to believe she could count. “Good girl. Follow Pony.” He smiled when she tossed 8

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward her head and turned away at a trot. “I’ll be.” The smith whistled low as Star trotted over to where Jed stood and through the open gate. “I ain’t seen the likes of that since….” “Since the last wild west show you saw? That’s right.” Gideon smiled proudly. He knew he was a nice tall drink of water himself, but the blacksmith was clearly more impressed by his mount. “She’s a trick horse.” “How’d you come by her?” the smith asked, his eyes bright with curiosity. Gideon hefted his gear and rubbed at his nose. “Well, sir,” he said easily, “I’m her trick rider.” “I’ll be,” the smith said again, and he looked at him with friendlier eyes. “He a showman too?” he asked, pointing at Jed’s back. Gideon hesitated. “He’s got his tricks. Thanks again.” He hopped over to open the shed where Jed had brought his saddle blanket, bridle, and leather bags, and they stepped in to drop their tack. “Plenty of water in the trough,” Jed said, and then he tilted his chin up toward the sky. “More on the way.” Gideon just barely resisted clapping him on the back. “Let’s see about that hot bath and some food, then.” It turned out that anything they could buy in daylight hours was easy to come by, as long as Jed had him a white man willing to be responsible for his behavior. They refilled their saddlebags at the general store, but Gideon managed to talk Jed into a bath before they tried for a restaurant. “I promised the smith I’d bring him back some biscuits, and I’d like ’em to still be warm,” he said. “He seemed like 9

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward good people.” Jed, his smooth face giving nothing away, simply nodded toward the bathhouse sign. The bathhouse was simple wood clapboards, but inside the walls had been plastered. Insulated, too, by the warmth of it; his nose started itching the second they closed the door behind them, and his skin tingled. The chaperone was a prim-looking young man who turned out to be a local preacher’s son. The kid stared at Jed, and Gideon saw him doubling the price in his head. But he paid it, trying to be pleasant even as the boy said shortly, “Half price for him to use your tub once you’re out of it, but you have to use the little one in the corner. They can’t use any others.” Gideon glanced to the smaller, rickety tub and sighed. Jed wouldn’t even think of it as much of a slight. That nixed any plan Gideon might have had of helping Jed get clean too. “No, thanks, he can have his own.” At Jed’s quick glare, he added, “I don’t want to wait for him when I’m done.” He took the tub next to Jed and stripped down behind a curtain, hanging his clothes on a hook and wrapping himself loosely in the bath sheet while the kid filled first his tub, then Jed’s. Steamy water made him forgive the presence of the preacher’s boy, and he sank into the warmth with a groan as little chills of pleasure raced over his skin. He listened intently for Jed to enter his own bath, heard just the quiet splash of water and not a peep to indicate pleasure, even though Gideon knew Jed was just as cold as he was, and even though he knew Jed loved being clean and free of tiny boarders even more. The gauze curtains that separated them were almost like a peep show tease. Gideon tried to ignore it, and soon enough the water 10

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward started to cool, so he set to scrubbing, watching Jed’s shadow move across the thin fabric. When Jed stood, leaning to get his bath cloth, Gideon could see the curve of his small ass and the shape of his legs through the seam of the curtains. Jed wasn’t tall, but he was perfectly formed and was easy on the eyes, and what bits Gideon was able to catch a glimpse of made him think of the other bits he’d get to see when they were alone. Gideon had to let Jed leave the bathhouse first, just so he could will his gallant reflex down. His long coat only hid so much, and the preacher’s kid would get a glimpse of him before he’d donned it anyway. His body scrubbed clean and wearing his fresh set of clothes, he thanked the kid and shrugged on his coat, took a quick glance in the mirror, decided he might want to get a shave before they left here, and then stepped back into the cold to find Jed. Jed was coming out of a side street, his head down and his coat pulled tight around him. His hair was wet but loose, hanging down the back of his coat and steaming in the cold air. There was a bright spot on one cheek, and Gideon thought at first that the cold must have wormed back into his bones already. He had his coat buttoned up tight and his hands under his arms, and after a quick glance to Gideon’s face, he dropped his eyes to the boardwalk, falling easily into the subservience everyone expected to see in him. Too easily. Gideon wanted to catch his chin and force him to stare forward, to act the proud man Gideon knew he was. Then he noticed thin dark line of blood at the corner of Jed’s lip. “What happened?” he asked, low and angry because he knew already what had happened. And they’d hardly been in this town an hour. “Nothing you need worry on,” Jed said just as softly. “Let’s go.” “Jed,” he pushed, stepping in close—too close. Jed backed up a 11

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward step, and Gideon had a second of worry that Jed was actually scared of him. He felt it sometimes, Jed’s natural wariness of white folks extending unreasonably to him. But Jed went on, his voice tight. “Not here,” he said, cutting his eyes to one side then the other, to see who was around. “Let it be.” Gideon stared at him, barely curbing the urge to argue. Somebody had pushed Jed around on his way to or from the outhouse, from the smell wafting out of the alleyway. Damn all small towns. This was why they were headed to New Orleans, a huge, sprawling port city with so many different kinds of people, folks wouldn’t think much about one half-blood Indian and his white horseman friend. He needed to get Jed somewhere safe like that and away from western towns like this one whose city fathers likely still remembered the last of the Indian wars and still panicked at every sign of struggle even now. He thought about going back there himself, finding the bastards who had tried to shame his lover, but not only would that make Jed angry with him, it could endanger them both. Reluctantly, he drew a breath of the cold air and got himself under control. “Lead on, Jed,” he said. “But we’re getting something hot to eat, first.” Jed barely nodded at him, but he stepped off the boardwalk and together they sprinted across the street. The restaurant was busy but not too crowded, and the woman running it recognized that Jed’s money was the same color as Gideon’s. They were allowed a table in the back corner, but that was all right with Gideon. Actually, it was pretty fine, since it shared a wall with the kitchen and was pleasantly warm. He leaned his shoulder against it, soaking in the heat while he looked around at the local folks and passed the time. He didn’t try to 12

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward talk to Jed. Jed wasn’t much of a talker at the best of times, but the man flat-out wouldn’t converse in a crowd like this—especially after whatever had just happened. There must have been twenty-five people in this big room, and any one of them could take issue with Jed even being here. So Gideon honored his wishes and listened in on strangers’ conversations instead, learned who was about to have another baby and who was spending too much time in the saloons. There was plenty of talk about Christmas three days’ hence, so he decided to buy a sheet of paper and send his folks a letter before they moved on. When their dinner specials arrived he dug in and forgot about the other patrons, because the food was hot and rich and tasted better than anything they could have put together over an open fire on the trail. He could tell that Jed enjoyed it too, even though he made not a sound and barely lifted his eyes from his plate. The dark splotch on his cheek was fading, and he’d wiped the trickle of blood away with his napkin. “Good food,” Jed said as they ate, which was almost more than Gideon had expected. “Got to ask the waitress to wrap up some of those biscuits,” he said as they finished up, and Jed nodded again, took his knife, and split three open, slathering butter over them before he set them on the edge of Gideon’s plate. When the girl came by, Gideon nodded. “I’ll take these with me, if you’ve got something to put them in?” “Be happy to, sir,” she said, grinning appreciatively. She was young and pretty, clearly confident in her bearing and, from the look in her eye, confident about men too. He smiled back, showing his even teeth, because you caught more flies with honey and because Jed liked to pretend he was jealous, now and again. She swept the plates away, 13

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward and Gideon caught Jed’s tiny frown and grinned wider. The girl returned with the smith’s biscuits in a scrap of cheesecloth, and Gideon paid their bill, adding a little extra for their waitress who had been fair with Jed, keeping his coffee mug as full as she’d kept Gideon’s. As they stepped out onto the boardwalk and into a harder rain, Jed turned and started back toward the livery. Gideon caught him by the arm of his jacket then stepped in close to say quietly, “We’re checking out that boarding house.” Jed looked up at him, his face unreadable in the gloom. “Waste of time,” he said shortly. “We should get back on the road before it grows too dark to see.” “We’re not living rough tonight,” Gideon said flatly. He’d be damned if he’d let some son of a bitch intimidate Jed into a night in the cold and wet. “I’m clean and dry and I intend to stay that way. Warm would be nice too.” Jed didn’t argue; he rarely did. But he wasn’t happy, and Gideon knew that by the tension in the straight shoulders. He could hear Jed’s words in his head—waste of time—but Jed followed him along with little more than a sigh. “Well, where do you expect him to sleep?” Gideon asked several minutes later when it was clear that the woman who ran the boarding house was not going to be swayed. “Outside with the other animals,” she said shortly, glaring at Gideon with a distaste he recognized. It was one directed at show people from time to time, usually when the local folks were drunk and rowdy, and often as not by the good Christians who’d stared wideeyed at his mama’s show the night before. He and Jed had that look in 14

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward common, he thought passingly as he tried to get his temper under control. “I run a respectable establishment,” she went on, her voice as cold as the sleet coming down outside. “No dogs, no drunks, no heathens. If you want a room, that’ll be—” “I don’t, thank you,” he said shortly, turning away before she could finish. Jed had the good grace not to say “I told you so,” but what he did say hurt far worse. “You should have stayed.” “And left you out in the rain?” Gideon groused. “You in the rain too gonna make me dryer?” he asked reasonably. Always reasonable, which Gideon had to admit, was likely the way Jed had stayed alive to reach the ripe age of twenty-seven. “Besides, I heard the blacksmith. I’ll be dry tonight.” In a livery loft. Gideon wanted to spit. Except really, it probably wouldn’t be so bad. It would have to be dry for the hay, and the horses below would help to warm the place up. If they layered hay around them, he’d be warmer than he would have been alone in the boarding house. He grinned. “I’ll take a loft with you over the best hotel, any day,” he whispered, just to get a rise out of the man. He got it, and he “oofed” when Jed whapped his belly with the back of his hand. “Come along, Jed, ’fore something I value freezes and falls off of me.” They ran along close to the buildings, staying under as much cover as possible because the sleet was coming down hard now. It collected on the ground in slushy puddles, slick against their boots’ leather soles and shining in what lights shone out the glass windows of storefronts that were still open: saloons and a gambling hall, the restaurants and what must be a whorehouse at the end of the street, 15

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward well past the livery. Jed didn’t say anything, but his head came up and he eyed it in silence. “I wouldn’t let you bed down there even if they would,” Gideon said, no little jealous himself. When they approached the livery, Jed picked up his pace. “The horses,” he said by way of explanation, and he broke into a run that took him across the street in the rain and right through a puddle of mud. Gideon turned up his collar, tugged down his hat, and then followed just in time to see Jed climb up on the corral gate while the blacksmith waved madly at them from a gap in the big barn door. He’d closed up shop, it looked like, and stood ready to leave in a ten-gallon hat and a too-long oilskin coat. Gideon saw the anger in the set of Jed’s shoulders, but Jed didn’t risk any words. Turned out, he didn’t have to. “They’re all right,” the smith said when Jed and Gideon slid through the door and out of the rain. “I put ’em up when the sleet come down. Mister, I never did see a horse schooled like yours. I thought maybe the Injun’s had some schooling too, since it stuck close, so….” He shrugged. “I had an empty stall.” Gideon shot Jed a victorious smile, the one he reserved for proof of decency among white people. He didn’t get to use it often, but he always enjoyed when he did. Jed ruined it by saying, “I have coin,” which earned them both a frown. “Wasn’t tryin’ to hoodwink you boys.” Gideon pulled out the biscuits he’d brought back. “How about we pay you with the gift I already promised?” he asked as he flashed a grateful smile. “Don’t mind him,” he said a little lower, but plenty loud 16

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward for Jed to hear. “He ain’t used to good people.” The smith nodded without comment and took the cheesecloth with the biscuits. “See you got your baths.” “You said you might let us bed down in your loft tonight?” “Said he could,” the smith replied. “Missus Barder’ll take you.” Gideon’s jaw was starting to ache, he’d been clamping it so tightly since his exchange with the biddy in the boarding house. “If it’s all the same to you, sir, I’d rather pay you twice her going rate for your very fine loft than pay that woman a penny to piss on me if I was on fire.” The smith was already chewing on one of the biscuits, and the short guffaw he let out sent a little spray of crumbs out to dapple his beard. Gideon shrugged while Jed tried to look like he didn’t know what the hell was going on. The smith flicked his beard a time or two and carefully combed his fingers down its front, clearing most of the crumbs. “Yeah, she’s got some mouth on her. But you can’t hold it ag’in’ her, boys. She had a son in the army, lost him over Wounded Knee.” Jed’s head swiveled back around. “I heard about that,” he said quietly. “Many dead.” Gideon used a finger and thumb to work his jaw back and forth. The dead could have been Jed’s relatives—on either side. “Condolences, but I wasn’t there. I’ve never killed any man,” Jed went on. The smith looked up at Gideon before he cut his gaze to Jed, who was standing still in the doorway, head turned to watch the sleet. “Good to know,” he said, and he took another bite of his biscuit. “All right. Just don’t go tellin’ folks or I’ll hear about it from half the town. 17

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward Tomorrow, if y’all decide to stay on, there’s a place couple of miles up the road, just off the track northeast of here. Some old boy thought he’d struck it rich, but we get more gold out of that river over there. Half a dozen buildings, a few miner’s shacks, it’s all abandoned. People camp there from time to time, when the weather’s like this, but I reckon you can find a place that’d be warm and dry.” He looked out at the weather again. Gideon looked, too; the sleet had picked up. “Thank you kindly,” he said. “I don’t fancy being out in this tonight, and I don’t reckon Jed does, either.” He turned to his lover, hoping he was right. “Thank you,” Jed said to the blacksmith, and slowly, warily, he extended his bare hand. The smith looked surprised, but he shook, more gently it seemed than he’d taken Gideon’s. “Your horses are in the stall in the back corner. Ladder’s just inside the door.” The smith cut his eyes to Jed once more and said more quietly, “He’ll be all right here if you want to try another boarding house. Don’t nobody bother folks I let under my roof.” It was a sincere offer of protection and Gideon smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate the offer, but I’d just as soon stay close to Star. You know how these smart horses can be.” The smith grinned, understanding worry about a good horse probably far better than he’d understand worry about an Indian brave in a cowboy hat and duster. “No lanterns up there, once you boys settle in,” he ordered briskly. “Take the one by the door to find a place. Makes sure the wick’s out and hang it back by the door for me.” They gathered up their gear before heading up the ladder to the loft. As he had hoped, the hay was packed high along the eaves, and 18

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward the place was free of rats. It took little effort to make up a big bed, and it was cold enough that if anyone got up the ladder before they woke, the person would think little of them sharing body heat and blankets. As Jed was spreading the bedrolls, the smith called up from the lower floor. “We’re closing up for the night, but I’m going across to the saloon for a drink or two and some chow. If anyone comes in, they can reach me there. I’d be obliged if you’d let them know.” “Least we can do,” Gideon called back truthfully, walking back to the ladder so he could peer down to the other man. “You’ll be back here later?” The smith grinned up at him then pointed to the back of the livery. “Room’s nice and cozy. Nothing as warm and comforting as my horses.” Gideon couldn’t help but grin, and despite himself, he glanced over his shoulder toward his lover. “I can’t argue that.” The smith waved a hand and walked out of sight. A few seconds later, Gideon heard the side door to the barn squeak open then closed, and the thunk of the small wood brace dropping into place. He shook his head, wishing more people could be like their good Samaritan down there. Then he pushed himself up and walked lightly back to Jed, ducking his head to avoid the rafter beams. He set the kerosene lamp carefully on the wood floor, moved his saddle bags to one end, and dug around, pulling out a few things for the night before he knelt down beside the makeshift bed. “Full belly,” he said, pitching his voice low. He dropped down to his ass and tugged off one boot. “Dry place to lay our heads.” He pulled off the other boot and shrugged out of his coat, throwing it atop their oilskin to hold in more heat. “Warm,” he 19

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward added, and he stretched out on the soft-piled hay, wriggling to get comfortable. “Mmm hmm,” Jed said. “I’ll sleep well tonight.” Gideon hoped they both would. “Settle in. I’ll take the lantern back.” “Your boots are already off,” Jed said as he bent to pick up the lantern. Gideon watched him go, the stark, narrow shadow that was his body, his hand that carefully held the lamp aloft looking more golden than usual. The image made him think of what he’d heard earlier. Wounded Knee. He knew about the battle—more like a slaughter, though, from what he’d heard. Over a hundred Indians killed, women and children too. Far fewer Army men, maybe twentyfive. And that rooming house lady had the bad luck to be the mama of one of them. He sighed, aching for the pointlessness of it all. Jed disappeared down the ladder, and a second later the darkness settled in, heavy and welcome. Boots thumped back up the ladder, and he heard stumbling and stifled a snicker when a loud thump was followed by curses in Sioux. “Not funny,” Jed said from very close by. “Very funny,” Gideon replied, and he moved forward to make room. Somehow Jed managed to crawl over him without falling down a hay chute or damaging any part of Gideon that he particularly liked and soon enough was settled in behind him. A strong hand slid down his back, familiar and gentle, before moving away. “Don’t ask me,” Jed said before Gideon had drawn a full breath. Warm, familiar man behind him, the smell of lover and hay… he wriggled around until they 20

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward lay face-to-face and rested his hand gently on Jed’s hip. “If we were in a bed, I could skin you right out of those clothes and roll you onto your belly and love you like you deserve,” he whispered. Jed huffed a breath and whispered back, “If we were on the trail, I could do the same.” But he edged a little closer, and his nose brushed Gideon’s just before his lips did. He tasted of coffee and butter and the spicy flavor of Jed himself, of passion and heat and home. Gideon had never expected to find that, and to have found it here in this man— well, he couldn’t have planned for a more dangerous discovery. But lying next to his lover, he just didn’t care. Gideon tangled his fingers in long, coarse hair as he plundered, taking that flavor and the essence of the man, this man, into himself. When they broke for air, he held Jed against him, feeling the quick beat of Jed’s heart through the shirts and underclothes that separated them. For a few seconds, he admitted to himself that he’d been stupid not to go on and find someplace private to hole up; nothing was finer than having Jed’s skin against his, holding Jed against him, and losing his sense of where he ended and Jed began. “I need you,” he murmured, “bad, Jed.” Jed tensed, and his heart beat even faster. “Not here,” he answered, pushing Gideon away. “You’ll have to go one night—” “No,” Gideon interrupted him and pressed in for another kiss. As their lips met again, he pushed against Jed, rolling him onto his back. He worked a hand between them, managing a good tug on the edge of the worn twill pants Jed wore. The buttons came loose, and Gideon wormed his fingers into the opening and through the layers of 21

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward underdrawers to touch warm skin and soft, fine hair. “Gideon.” Jed pushed at him, trying to draw away. “Not here.” But the words caught as Gideon touched the rising column of warm flesh and his hand found the grip that would make Jed writhe. “You can be quiet, hell, you don’t ever make noise,” he said against Jed’s ear. “Roll onto your side, and I’ll just spoon in right behind you.” As Jed started to protest, he tightened his hold on the cock in his hand and Jed jerked, pushing up into his grip. There were some things that not even Jed could be calm about. He did try to resist, protesting as well as he could between the hisses and gasps for breath that he drew around Gideon’s kisses and tugs on his cock. “It’s dark as the grave, Jed,” he whispered, trying to plead and reassure his lover all at the same time. “Somebody could walk right over us and not see.” Jed’s hand finally found his wrist in the dark, pulling hard on it. “No,” Jed hissed. His grip was tight enough to hurt, surprising Gideon. “Nobody’s here,” Gideon pressed, trying to pull free of Jed’s hand. “Nobody will know—” “Gideon.” The word was low and hard, a pitch that only Gideon’s mother had ever used with him. Perhaps it was the memory of her that made him stop abruptly, which gave Jed time to wrench away from him and scoot out of reach. In a whisper so low even Gideon barely heard it, Jed said, “You know what strangers would do.” “I know it’d almost be worth it,” he whispered back, not quite meaning it but more than willing to take this small risk. Not many 22

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward folks would venture out in this storm when they didn’t have to, and even if they did, he was sure they’d hear the creaky barn door blow open long before anyone could make their way inside and up that ladder. “Fool,” Jed hissed, and Gideon hesitated. Jed sounded real mad. “Jed?” he asked, brushing his fingers against Jed’s arm. “Shut up,” Jed replied, putting himself back together with quick, hard movements that rustled the hay around them and let in enough cold air between them to take the edge off Gideon’s need. He sighed, wondering if he should just roll over and bring himself off, but he wanted Jed, willing and warm against him, naked and welcoming. He wanted to make up for what had happened in that alley, whatever it was that Jed wasn’t going to talk about. He wanted to protect his lover and reassure him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, rolling onto his back and drawing his hands onto his belly. “I just—I need you.” Jed was still now, his clothes apparently righted. “You have me,” Jed said, and his tone was less sharp. “But not for that, not here. Too dangerous.” “All right,” Gideon sighed. “I hear you, Jed.” He stayed still, thinking about that cold, cold rain to try and quell his defiant loins, not even reaching out. After a while, Jed eased back over, closing the space between them, and pulled the cover up over his head. Gideon turned his head so he could smell Jed’s hair, pulled the stiff blanket up over his ears, and let out a deep sigh. Jed was probably already sleep, and Gideon had best join him. Dawn would come cold 23

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward and early. * * *

HE

WOKE slowly to cold feet and the sounds of voices, the smells of

hay and horses. Still more asleep than awake, he thought about his daddy’s horses and riding in front of noisy crowds, and dreams almost dragged him back under. But something wasn’t quite right, and the not-right of it tickled at the edges of his mind. First he sniffed, taking in more horse and hay, then he shifted, and his morning erection brushed against his soft winter underdrawers, reminding him of what he hadn’t had last night. He winced and reached out, but all he found was empty bedding, more hay, and the bare boards of the loft floor. And that brought him out of sleep and into morning. Tossing the blanket down, he drew a fresh, deep breath and coughed as cold air shocked his lungs and pretty much every other part of his body. The temperature had dived in the night, freezing the water right out of the air and leaving it dry and painfully cold. The light didn’t help; it was well past dawn and the loft was far too bright after the darkness and warmth under the blankets and burrowed into the hay. But Jed was out there somewhere, and he had never edged in close last night, that he remembered, but he vaguely remembered Jed’s restlessness. That was worrisome. He stomped into his boots just to get some feeling in his toes and stuck his hat on his head before hurrying down the ladder. Seemed like quite a few people about for such a cold day; two boys oiled tack in light of the barn’s open double-doors, and a girl in coveralls swept 24

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward the packed earth of the barn hall. Jed was mucking stalls, his long hair braided back and his sleeves rolled up. He’d been working long enough to have a light sheen of sweat even in this weather, and his coat was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t seem to be aware of Gideon, and as Gideon drew closer, he understood why: Jed hummed, the soft rhythms of one of his songs. He said those chants cleared his head for honest labor, and Gideon had no reason to doubt it. He stood for a few seconds, just listening and watching. He could do this for… too long, he realized as the crunch of heavy boots on the dirt floor finally permeated his ears and he turned to find the smithy nearing him. “I can see why you’d want to keep him close,” the man said, tilting his head toward Jed. “Good worker, damned good.” At the sound of the smith’s voice, Jed had turned, straightening when he saw Gideon. Gideon smiled at the smith, looking past him to catch Jed’s eyes, noticing the dark circles under them. “Yes, he is,” he said quietly. “Better than I deserve, I reckon.” Jed’s lips twitched; Gideon saw it because he knew to look for it, but no one else would have. The smith shrugged doubtfully. “Name’s Clement, by the way. If you work like he does, I could use you boys for a day or so.” “Doing what?” Clement hooked his thumb backward. “My place is back there. Roof damned near blowed off in the storm last night. If he gets this place cleaned up and you and my girl see to the horses, me and my boys there could patch up the roof before the next storm blows in.” “You know when you’re expecting it?” Gideon asked. 25

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward “Doc Taylor’s rheumatism says we’ll have a sunny Christmas,” Clement said, “but not long after we’ll see a lot worse than this.” “I’ll—” he hesitated and changed “ask him” to, “I’ll tell him. Jed,” he called, and he waited for Jed to give him that look. “You close enough to done here that you’ll come eat breakfast?” “Bring something back, you don’t mind,” Jed said, and he turned back toward the stall, keeping more than his usual distance. He was really pissed about last night. Gideon didn’t waste time over breakfast, ill at ease that he was here while Jed was working. He grabbed biscuits and bacon for his lover and headed back to the livery to find Clement and his boys already at work on the roof. The sound of nails biting through tin made Gideon’s teeth hurt, and he hoped it wouldn’t take long. “Those for me?” Jed asked, pointing his chin toward the biscuits. He was spreading fresh straw in the stalls and loose stalks had caught in his hair and clothes. It was an effort not to reach out and touch, but Gideon managed to settle for just brushing Jed’s hand as he handed him the food. “Beautiful day,” he said as Jed ate. “Almost too nice, bright enough to blind you. Cold, though. Reckon the ice is going to stay on the ground for a while.” Jed nodded and swallowed then said softly, “Nice day to be traveling.” There was a sharpness in his tone, either a demand or a rebuke, Gideon wasn’t sure which. “Soon enough,” Gideon said. “What needs doing?” Clement came back by the time he and Jed had worked the man’s 26

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward six horses and then haltered and walked the horses being boarded here. “You boys about done?” he asked. Gideon looked up at the bright sun, noted how high it was in the sky, and nodded. “Reckon so. Good horses you’ve got here, Clement.” Clement smiled, proud. “Yep. So what’ll you boys be doing today?” “Well,” Gideon said, “you said there might be some place to hole up for a bit?” “Yeah.” He looked around to where Jed was brushing one of the other horses. “You’re welcome to stay here.” Gideon tried to think how to say it but in the end, he just gave up. “Christmas is coming,” he said lamely. Clement blinked. “You boys don’t seem like the type for celebratin’ Christmas.” “The angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.’,” Jed quoted, and Gideon could see Clement stiffen, could tell the man didn’t quite know how to take that. Jed saw, too, and trailed off. “Catholic missionary school,” Jed said. “Got introduced to God when I was thirteen.” Gideon didn’t smile; he’d heard Jed say “your god” before, plenty of times. But Jed didn’t say that to strangers, out of respect or healthy fear, Gideon didn’t know. And he realized he ought to ask about that too. Clement seemed surprised but thoughtful, and in the end he just 27

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward nodded and offered a puzzled smile. “Well, I reckon that abandoned mining camp would be all yours.” That would be good. If they found a place dry enough with a chimney for a fire, they could settle in comfortably for a few days. “If it don’t work out up there, you’re welcome back here,” he said. “And my offer stands; I’ll pay you for your time if you want to work a few days. Or just his, if you’d rather rest up.” “Thanks,” Gideon said, glancing to where Jed stood watching them over the back of the horse. His face was expressionless but his eyes, tired and red, held worry. “But I think he could use the rest more than me. I’ll check in with you in a couple of days. After Christmas.” Jed blinked and the worry was gone, replaced with the calm acceptance Gideon was used to. They made their way to the local store, picking up a few things they didn’t normally keep on the trail: eggs, a couple of potatoes, and an onion. The storekeep told them where they could buy a chicken, if they were of a mind, and Gideon nodded his thanks. “Chicken?” he asked when they left the store. “Been a time since I had a good piece of chicken,” he added hopefully. “Waste of money,” Jed said, and Gideon sighed; Jed wasn’t wrong, and they had two thousand miles of road between them and New Orleans. The money he’d deposited at the Wells Fargo branch in Sacramento wasn’t going to last forever. “All right then,” he said, trying to be agreeable. “Let’s go.” He swung up on his horse while Jed grabbed his own horse’s halter and started out on foot, his boots a quiet shuffle through the rocks on the 28

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward road. It was a beautiful day, still bright, but cold enough to leave ice on the ground and sprinkled along the landscape. It glittered from shadows and the limbs of trees, giving the world a sparkle that seemed just right for Christmas time. He blew into his palms and glanced over to Jed, who had stuffed his hands, reins and all, into his pockets, and pursed his lips. He didn’t know whether to sneak back into that town and buy Jed a new pair or beat the tar out of whoever’d done this and take Jed’s gloves back for him. Either way, he reckoned Kris Kringle knew what to deliver for Christmas morning. They found the place easy enough, just off the track, as Clement had said, a collection of low buildings set close enough to the river to hear the constant rush of it. The banks and surrounding hills were steep and rocky, which explained why some farmer hadn’t homesteaded this place. As they neared the compound, Jed walked ahead, his hand on the knife he carried at his hip. Gideon stayed back, still mounted, his rifle across his thighs but easy to aim if he had to. Jed walked along the fronts of the buildings, peering inside but never moving out of Gideon’s sight. As he walked back toward Gideon, he nodded. “Just us, I think. Smells of wood smoke, and there’s manure over there that doesn’t look too old. Reckon someone camped here a few nights back, but they’re gone now.” As he caught up Pony’s reins, Jed nodded toward the building farthest away and in the worst state of decay. “Not sure about that barn,” he said. Gideon grinned. “I’ll keep Star with me. You?” “Same,” Jed said. “I like that place.” The house must have belonged to the owner of the mining claim, 29

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward because it was clearly better built than the five shacks around it, and the front window even had real glass in it, just like in town. He was surprised nobody had scavenged that for themselves. Jed shouldered open the front door, and they peered around inside, found bits of furniture too worn or heavy to have been carted away, and the signs that whoever had passed before them had picked this place too; a mattress in decent repair lay near the chimney, and a heavy iron pot sat on the hearthstones. “For you,” Jed said as he rolled it over. The afternoon sun was high in the sky by the time Gideon had the place tidied up and suitable for living. When he stuck his head out the front door, Jed’s horse and rifle were nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was hunting grub. More plundering of the nearby shacks yielded a straw broom and old rags, and two main rooms of the house were as clean as they could be when Jed returned. Jed stopped in the doorway and looked around, his eyebrows climbing in surprise. “You were gone a long time,” Gideon replied without censure. He worried though, when Jed went hunting alone; too many folks saw an Indian with a weapon and imagined raiding parties and dead bodies. The Indians he’d known, three men and a woman who traveled with Bill Tourney’s Traveling Western Show, a few he’d bumped into up north, and now Jed, had less interest in killing than most white folks did. More respect for life too. Gideon shook his head and turned back to the fireplace where he’d lit up a sticky pine bough to test the draft on the chimney. “Got rabbits,” Jed said, but he stepped up close and knelt behind Gideon, laying one hand on his shoulder.

30

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward “Rabbits’ll be damned fine,” Gideon offered in return, reaching to cover Jed’s hand with his. It was cold. “So what are we going to do about your gloves?” “Nothing to do,” Jed said, and Gideon sighed. “You should have told me then,” he griped. “We’ll get ’em back.” “It’s not—” “We’ll get ’em back,” he said, harder. Letting someone steal from Jed felt worse than letting some son of a bitch steal from him, because Jed couldn’t really even defend himself without seeing the inside of a jail or worse. “Next time we go into that town, you show me who took ’em.” Jed nodded and pushed his cold hand up under Gideon’s collar, leeching warmth from him that Gideon was only too glad to give. “You should’ve told me,” he said, tilting his head forward to give Jed more bare skin to touch. “Wasn’t important.” “It’s important to me, Jed.” “No, it’s not.” “What? I—” “No,” Jed said, a harder word than he’d spoken in weeks. “If it was, you wouldn’t risk everything just to get your leg over. You wouldn’t risk folks dragging me through the streets behind a horse, maybe getting yourself hanged, just because you want to come!” “I…” he paused, realizing just how mad Jed was at him for last night. “It wasn’t that much of a risk,” he said stubbornly. “And I 31

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward needed you, Jed.” Jed’s lips thinned into a hard line. “No man needs anything enough to risk that.” Gideon couldn’t quite argue, but he couldn’t quite agree, either. He’d never felt for anyone, man or woman, what he felt for Jed, and sometimes Gideon felt like he did need to consummate it just that badly. “You should have—” “What?” Jed asked. “Told you it was stupid? I did. I was ready to hit you, if that was what it was going to take.” “Well, I didn’t know you were that mad.” He was ready to go on, to let Jed know he really was that sorry, but Jed moved his hand off his neck and around to cover his mouth. “You know now. And you won’t do it again.” Gideon sighed. It was hard, loving a man, and one older and wiser than him. Hard too that the man he loved was a half-breed, hated or feared by whites who had no damned right to feel either, not when it was the white folks who’d caused all the trouble, running Indians off their land. He hadn’t really thought about it much, and he’d been real friendly with the braves and the squaw in the traveling show. He hadn’t believed any of the shit most people did about Indians, that they were good for nothing, violent heathens. He’d never known folks more civilized. But he hadn’t thought much about how hard it was for them, either, worse than for the darkies, in some ways. Hell, a black man could carry a gun and own property these days. “I won’t do it again,” he said, meaning it. “You tell me, and I won’t do it again.” Jed nodded once, satisfied. “And if I tell you the gloves aren’t 32

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward worth a fight?” Gideon grinned. “I ain’t that nice.” Jed sighed but nodded his acceptance, and Gideon turned on the hearth to gather his man in close. Jed had to give up some things, too, for this thing they shared, like his acceptance of the way too many people thought they could treat him. Not if Gideon Makepeace had anything to say about it. The pine bough flared at that moment, and the smoke drew nicely up the chimney. Well before sunset the room was warm enough that Gideon had his coat off and a tin mug of fresh coffee in his hands. Jed had skinned and cleaned two of the rabbits, and they were cooking in the small fry pan he carried, along with some potatoes and onion. They had spread their bedrolls over the mattress and carted in enough wood to keep the fire going strong through the night. Jed was in the old kitchen settling the horses now; through the door into the kitchen, Gideon could hear his partner’s low voice and slow words, the tone of affection he used on animals and Gideon and little else. Outside, dusk was falling, and if he stood by the window and craned his head back, Gideon could see the first of the stars through the glass window that faced out toward the river. They should cover this window, he thought, for warmth and for privacy should anyone else come along, but the view was something else. He’d found Jed standing before it three times already, just staring out at the steep hillside and spindly trees that climbed up the river’s banks. When he heard the shuffle of booted feet on the rough board floor, he grabbed up the potholder and poured another mug of coffee for his lover. Jed came through the door, closing it behind him to keep 33

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward in the heat. His hair hung loose now, one side falling over his shoulder. It gleamed in the soft light of the fire and the light off the two candles Gideon had lit, and Gideon thought of how it would look spread out on the mattress, thick and cool and soft. Even better was the thought of what Jed would look like naked and spread out on the mattress, his dark skin warm under Gideon’s hands. No way Jed could object to it here, in the middle of nowhere with no one around. “Horses are set for the night,” Jed said, coming to stand near the fire. He held out his hands to it, reminding Gideon of the theft of his gloves. He wondered what else the bastards had taken from his lover and the unfairness of it sparked his temper again. “Here,” he said, holding out the mug of coffee. “Hot and fresh.” Jed took it with a nod of thanks, his long fingers wrapping gingerly around the warm metal as he sipped. After he swallowed, he leaned forward, catching up the wooden spoon he used for cooking and stirring the food in the skillet. “You need to move it around,” he chastised, pulling the pan back from the flames. “It will burn.” Gideon watched him toss new herbs that he’d collected somewhere out there into the pan, fascinated as he always was by the many things Jed knew. “Where’d you learn to cook?” he asked, sitting back against the warm bricks of the hearth. Jed didn’t cook often unless they were on the trail, but when he did it was always good, and hearty too. Jed shrugged, turning the skillet with a sort of skill that came from practice. “This isn’t cooking,” he said. “This is keeping you from cooking.” He looked over with a tiny grin, but Gideon just raised his eyebrows expectantly. “My ina—my mother—mostly,” he answered 34

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward quietly, and Gideon squirreled away the new word. “Prepare everything first, ready it for a short fire,” he said like he was quoting someone. “In the winters, we learned how to make food fast and make it last as long as possible, so we tried to make it taste as good as we could.” “On the res?” Gideon asked, even though he knew already. Jed only used the word “we” when he referred to his years with his family. “You miss being there?” Jed was quiet for a while, and Gideon wondered if he was going to answer. Eventually, Jed stood and unbuttoned his coat, sliding it off his arms, and said, “I miss many things about that life. But it is of little value to miss something that can no longer be.” Practical, so damned practical, but it made Gideon’s heart ache at what his lover had lost. It wasn’t much, to hear Jed tell of it, but there had clearly been love there, and having had so little besides that didn’t seem to make the missing of it any less. Gideon pushed himself up and moved to Jed, taking him into his arms. Jed startled at first, but he settled quickly as Gideon pulled him close. “Value ain’t the issue,” he said quietly against Jed’s hair. “I can’t be a kid again, but I can still miss those times with my folks, after a show, when they were wound up on a good performance and happy and everything was a joke.” Jed tilted his head up so that he was looking at Gideon’s face. “Tell me,” he said, as he often did. “Tell me about your family.” Gideon smiled down at him and bent his knees a little to kiss him on the lips. He brushed their cheeks together, tickling Jed’s smooth face with his three-day growth of beard. “You know more than you want to about them already,” he said as he drew back. 35

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward “No, I don’t,” Jed said, and rested his hands on Gideon’s hips. “Tell me.” Gideon smiled, all too happy to share a good story—to say anything, really, that made Jed’s eyes light up with interest, like he was making pictures out of Gideon’s words. “Let’s see. I ever tell you about Coaldale?” Jed shook his head and eased out of Gideon’s arms to shake the frying pan, and Gideon sat back down to the warm hearthstones. “Big place, run mostly by the Panther Valley Mining Company, I think. Thing I remember most about the men in the audience was how pale they were, from working underground all the time; that was the first time I really put that together, I think. They had skin like little boys, and I remember thinking that they were prettier than the gals.” Jed cocked his head, a sure sign that he was listening intently. “I guess I was nine or ten, first time we rolled through there. Bill Tourney’s Traveling Western Show must have been the first of its kind to hit that there town, the way the audience acted. They were as excited by the horse-riding shows as they were by the peep show Mama was in.” He smiled fondly in memory and looked across to Jed, who watched him so intently, he didn’t even blink. “Daddy was working these two white horses, one mare and one gelding. Theresa Miller, the costumer, had torn up some dancehall dress she’d run across and used the feathers for a shaft on the browband of each horse’s bridle, made ’em look all dandy, like circus horses. Daddy had schooled them real good so they’d lope easy and of a pace, and he’d jump from one to the other. Toward the end of his performance, he stood up on Brandy and stretched one foot out for Miller—he was gonna have one foot on each horse’s back, see. Well, I 36

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward don’t know if it was somebody in the audience or what, but Miller shied away, and Daddy ended up straddling him but facing his assend, while Brandy danced sideways alongside them.” He laughed at the memory, at his own fear over something gone wrong and the cheers from an audience who thought he’d meant to do that. “So he saves it, right? He just goes with it, and still holding Brandy’s rein— which was damned dumb, if you want my opinion—he does a handstand on Miller’s hindquarters, whistles at them both to stop, and throws the reins off so he can somersault off the back to land on his feet. Brandy practically sat on her haunches to stop for him, and Miller did the same.” He chuckled a little, remembering. “That mare loved him almost as much as Mama and I did.” He looked over to see how his story had landed, glad to find a soft smile on Jed’s face. His eyes were shining, too, a lot like Gideon’s daddy’s had when he’d gotten those two horses out of the ring. “The crowd went crazy, jumping up and stomping their feet on the boards, cheering like it was the second coming, and Daddy—” he paused, overcome by his own laughter. “Daddy was doing pretty much the same damned thing. Mama’s show was the last event of the evening, so she was there with me before she headed on over to the peep show tent, bundled up in one of Daddy’s raincoats with her show dress on underneath, her face painted so pretty...” He stopped to draw in a breath and get his own amusement under control. “I don’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry, but she wound up doing both.” “That must have been a sight,” Jed agreed. “It was,” Gideon said, remembering. “You know, that trick went over so well with the crowd, he worked on it for a month after, and he never could repeat it.” 37

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward “Why not?” Jed asked, near breathless, and the sound of pleasure in his lover’s voice made Gideon’s heart swell. “Brandy wasn’t much for sideways running, for starters,” he said, trying to remember the details. “Mama said she figured Brandy’d done it that night just to save Daddy from looking like a fool out there. And Miller got to hating the feel of Daddy’s hands that near his tail when he was loping along, so he took to slowing down to a walk every time he felt any weight back there. Daddy fell ass over end a few times, landing in the dirt and staring up at Miller’s hindquarters, until he finally gave up trying.” “Were you able to do it?” Gideon blinked innocently at him, and for that he got a flash of white teeth, Jed’s smile stretched so big. “Yeah, all right,” he admitted, waving a hand as he came clean, “I tried it a few times too. Until Daddy caught me and took his belt to my backside. Told me I was lucky Mama hadn’t been the one to catch me and that Miller or Brandy hadn’t stomped me, and that a whipping was all I was gettin’.” “Bob was a very wise man,” Jed commented quietly. “He still is,” Gideon assured him. His daddy was only forty-four and still worked the horse arena. Something in the frying pan sizzled over and made the coals hiss and spit, and Jed jumped to pull it away from the fire. Which ended a damned fine private moment, at least until Jed decided he was ready for another. Gideon had been thinking real hard on what Jed had told him, about taking risks with himself and with them. What had stood out the worst, though, was that he’d taken a risk with Jed, that his need had overpowered his good sense and he’d put Jed in danger, 38

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward made Jed fear during a time when he should have only felt pleasure or love—like Jed had said, just to get his leg over. For that, his little stallion was going to stay in the pen for as long as it took for Jed to need him back. They ate dinner soon after, the food as good as anything Gideon had had at a restaurant. Jed didn’t talk when he ate, something else Gideon suspected he’d learned growing up, but when he was finished and the dishes wiped and cleaned and stacked near the fire, he settled with his back against the mattress and his legs stretched out before him. Gideon studied him for a while before asking, “What you said earlier, about what would happen to us if we got caught. You weren’t guessing, were you, or just saying something to scare me?” Jed looked across the short distance between them, his eyes shining in the firelight. “No,” he answered quietly. “I wasn’t guessing.” He stretched out a hand and caught up one of his saddle bags, digging in it until he found his pipe and tobacco pouch. As before, Gideon waited, knowing that Jed would tell him in his own time. After Jed lit the pipe and the smoke was rising lazily toward the ceiling, Jed started slowly, “My ina’s people do not worry as much about what happens between people under the furs. I did not fully understand the way of things when we were taken from our parents to the school, and the nuns did not explain such things.” Gideon smiled, amused by Jed’s understatement. “I… they separated us in the school, boys in one dormitory, girls in another. Sioux children learn from each other, when our parents cannot teach us, and most of us thought it was the way of things, and like all things about our way of life was something that the nuns and 39

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward the whites thought was bad and wrong. So we were careful, and even more careful when we could find time with girls.” He stopped to draw on the pipe, and Gideon wondered passingly at how much time his lover had spent in the arms of women. Surely if he found pleasure in them, it was a life that would be easier than the one he and Jed had chosen. But then, Gideon didn’t feel much like it was a choice, to him; he loved what he loved, and what he loved was Jed. “By the time I left the reservation as a man, I knew that I was not to be married, not in good faith,” he went on. “I left with a friend, a good friend who was like me.” Gideon frowned, letting the words tickle around in his head before asking, “Like you, as in half-white? Or…?” Jed met his gaze. “Or,” he said. “He did not wish to take a wife, either. Not yet.” His tone was even, but Gideon saw the sadness in his eyes. He moved over to sit next to Jed, taking the pipe first and drawing a smoke before stretching his arm along Jed’s shoulders. “He at school with you?” Gideon asked as he passed the pipe back. Jed nodded, once. “We… we were close. Not like I am with you,” he said, looking down at the pipe, “but in that way that young men are when it is all new and exciting. Heyoka was joyful, too much so. He laughed at everything, believed that nothing could touch him. Or hurt him. His father had seen a black bear run off an intruder the day before his birth, you see.” Gideon didn’t see, but he understood how important nature signs were to Jed and his people, so he nodded anyway. “What happened?” he asked, even though he had a fair idea. 40

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward Jed sighed and drew once more on the pipe. He turned away to blow smoke before he answered, and his words were distant. “Nothing, at first. We traveled for a while, taking work where people would have us, mostly hard work for little pay. We enjoyed the world, enjoyed those women who would have us, and enjoyed each other. To Heyoka, everything was a joke, and he laughed even when people spat on us or took what was ours. His spirit totem was strong, and he rarely saw danger in men. We lived off the land as we knew how, and we did well, for the most part. But when we came to any new town, Heyoka could not resist the pull of white comforts. We would go in to get what we could afford, supplies, bullets for hunting, and to sell furs if we had them. No matter how hard I tried, Heyoka would always find a bottle of liquor. White men loved to get him drunk, loved to get us both drunk, if they could.” That thought was worse, and Gideon tightened his hold on Jed. “Could they?” he asked. Jed tilted his head, resting it against Gideon’s jaw as he answered, “Only once,” he said softly, “but that was enough. I never took their offers again after that, and I always tried to get Heyoka away too. But he… he wanted that, like too many of my people do. I tried to make him see that it wasn’t good for him, but he said I worried too much.” He drew away, squirming a little, and Gideon relaxed his grip. “It was nothing more than a trading post,” he went on, setting the pipe aside carefully. “We had taken our furs in to the merchant, and we were talking price when another man, a trapper, saw them and came over. He asked where we found them and then told me he would pay me to show him. It wasn’t far, half a day, but Heyoka wanted to 41

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward stay behind.” He pushed away from Gideon, and crawled to the fire to add another log even though the blaze was already high and strong. “The trip took longer than I expected; when we arrived at the area, the trapper wanted to set traps. I helped him; it was worth more coin. But it was close to dark when we got back to the trading post and—and it was too late for me to stop it.” He was staring into the fire, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. “He was drunk, too drunk, I hope, to know what happened. He had been caught in bed with a woman, a whore, from what I heard. She had taken Heyoka to bed, but someone had come into the room, another man who fancied her. He’d claimed Heyoka had raped her, because, he said, ‘not even a whore would sleep with a dog, no matter how much he paid her’,” he said, distant like he was quoting. “She did not disagree.” Gideon ached to go to his lover, but he knew Jed needed the distance between them. His voice was calm, carrying the peace of the pipe, Jed would say, but Gideon heard the pain in it—and the fear. “They had lassoed his ankles and dragged him around behind a horse for… I don’t know how long. By the time I saw him, he was… I did not know his face. The trapper held me, made me stay back. He said they would do the same to me if I tried to stop it. He was kind, though, and kept me away from the hanging. Later, he helped me cut Heyoka down. I made a tent for him as far from that place as I could, cut his hair and held it for a year, to honor his spirit, but I wonder sometimes if his spirit still roams there.” He sighed and sat back on his haunches, wrapping his arms around his knees. “The trapper told me that many white men had no forgiveness. I knew that even before Heyoka was killed.” 42

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward Gideon swallowed, watching his lover and hearing the words and understanding. Heyoka had died a horrible death because he wanted to get a leg over. Because he had done something stupid—not even something as stupid as Gideon had tried to do last night. He’d never thought of his life as being blessed or good or anything other than what it was. Like most people he knew, he’d had good things happen, and bad. But he’d never seen a friend of his or anyone he cared about get killed because of something as harmless as wanting a poke. It was hard for him to understand, but he knew Jed wasn’t lying to him or even stretching the truth. This thing had happened. He remembered Jed looking at the whorehouse last night as they’d rushed past it, remembered his own comment about not letting him stay there, and Jed’s response. After what had happened to Heyoka, Gideon knew Jed had never walked into another one. The distance between them was wider now, not just the physical divide but the past and all the things that it held. “It won’t happen again,” he said softly, needing to touch Jed. He’d known Jed was older, had laughed at it when it suited, and been frustrated when, like last night in the loft, Jed had used it as an excuse. But it wasn’t an excuse. It was a hard-won knowledge that had come with a price Gideon hoped never to pay. After a time, Jed shivered and pulled his legs closer. “In my dreams last night, it was your face I couldn’t see,” he whispered. “Your hair I cut while my spirit cried.” He lowered his head so that his forehead rested on his knees and his face was hidden. Gideon moved before he thought, rising to his knees and 43

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward reaching for Jed, but even as he did, the lesson of the tale exploded in his gut. He pushed to his feet and grabbed up his coat from the mattress and walked over to the window. Outside, the moon was up, casting light on the water and the ice, creating a glittering picture, like something made of glass. He draped the coat over the window, hanging it on several nails that someone had placed for just this thing. With a little more effort, he pushed the remains of a heavy wardrobe in front of the door, so that no one could get in without them hearing. When he was satisfied that they were safe, he turned to find Jed looking at him, his face expressionless in the firelight. “I’ll never do that to you, not again,” he said taking several steps closer but stopping out of range. He dropped to his knees then, his hands in fists on his thighs. “I swear, Jed. And I sure as hell ain’t gonna risk putting myself through it.” He couldn’t rightly say if he thought Heyoka or Jed had the worse lot, in that mess. Least Heyoka didn’t have to hang around and remember it. Jed looked past him at the covered window and the barricaded door. He looked back at Gideon and nodded once. Gideon couldn’t stop himself from moving closer, even though he still didn’t reach out. He waited until Jed offered, one slender hand touching his face, tracing the line of his cheekbone then up over his forehead, tracing his features. Memorizing them. When Jed used both hands to touch, Gideon could stand the distance no more. He slid his arms under Jed’s, lifting him to his knees and drawing him in tight and hard. Jed trembled in his arms and then clung to him with a desperation that was as frightening as the story he had told. Gideon held him, breaking away only for as long as it took to stoke the fire and throw on a couple of big logs that would burn 44

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward through the night. They shed boots but nothing more, and Gideon ignored all thought of sex as he held Jed through the night, keeping away the nightmares he’d invited in the night before. * * *

HE WOKE early, but not before Jed, who had gone out through the old kitchen and led the horses out without making enough noise to wake Gideon. Gideon found him outside, shirt off and undershirts sleeves pulled up as he washed in the icy water of the river. Jed looked better though, as if he’d slept, and he turned to Gideon and smiled just a little. “I ain’t never gonna be dirty enough to bathe in that, Jed,” he lied, shivering just from the sight of that chill water glistening on Jed’s arms and face. Jed just shook his head and smiled. They spent the morning taking care of the basics, scrounging food for the horses, cleaning the rest of the rabbits which Jed put on to cook, and scouting around. This abandoned camp had plenty of creature comforts, and he was thankful for it. By lunchtime, they had a big washtub pulled into their living room and another pot for water, and the horses had been watered and fed and brushed and were hobbled out back of the house where scrawny bits of grass grew. They settled near the fire for lunch, content with each other, the peace of the place, and the soothing sound of the river outside the open door. Jed heard it first, because his head came up fast and he set his fork and tin plate carefully aside. “What?” “Visitors,” Jed said, and he went to pick up his coat and pull it back on. “You’re still presentable without your coat you know,” Gideon 45

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward said dryly, but at Jed’s frown, he pulled his boots and coat off the hot hearthstones and had both on before he could hear the sound of voices over horses’ hooves. “Yo the house!” That was Clement for sure. “You want to go say howdy?” he asked Jed. But Jed eased back a step. “No.” He might be wary, but Gideon wasn’t going to do anything to make him more so after what he’d shared last night; he stood up and walked to the open door to find Clement and a man he didn’t recognize, but the star on his lapel spoke loudly enough. He stepped out onto the porch, pulling the door to behind him. “Howdy, Clement,” he said. “Right nice place you pointed out for me. I do thank you.” “Welcome,” Clement said, as friendly as ever. Maybe more so. “What can I do for you?” Both men swung off their mounts and strolled over to stop just in front of the porch. “This here’s Michael Finch,” Clement said, making the introductions. “Sheriff, this is Gideon Makepeace, the trick rider I told you about. His Injun’s around here somewhere.” The sheriff looked around pointedly, and Gideon frowned. “Problem, Sheriff?” he asked, ready to make one of his own. Jed hadn’t done anything wrong; hell, he’d barely been seen in that town without Gideon by his side and when he had been alone, he’d been stolen from. “Don’t reckon,” the sheriff said slowly. “Clement here had a thought for Christmas Day, is all, and I thought I’d ride out, maybe get a look at this horse he’s been going on about.” 46

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward Gideon returned his eyes to Clement, who wasn’t quite shuffling on his feet. “Thought maybe you’d consider putting on a show, you and that fine horse of yours, tomorrow? Be good for folks, you know?” Gideon could see how it would be good for the townspeople, but he didn’t see the benefit to him or Jed just yet. “Most folks do like to see a show, yeah,” he hazarded. “Well, if you’re interested, I could pass the hat, take up a little collection for ya. Might ease your traveling. And I’m pretty sure we could rustle up Christmas dinner for you.” “Jed too?” Gideon asked, testing the waters here. “That the Injun?” the sheriff asked. Gideon nodded. “He’s a good rider, good roper….” “Damned good worker,” Clement added his support. The sheriff shrugged. “Reckon that’d be all right, if he minds his manners.” Gideon caught Clement’s frown and raised a hand to head off the protests. “Jed!” he called, and they waited for Jed to stick his head out the door. “You mind bringing Star around?” Jed shook his head and silently slipped off the sunny porch. A minute later, Jed led Star around the side of the house with just a hand to her cheek. She minded him real well, and Gideon was proud of both of them. “Square up, Star,” Jed said quietly, and she shuffled her feet a bit. “Square up,” he repeated, until she stood in perfect form; he scratched her cheek and whispered something to her in Sioux. Gideon smiled; his gal was learning the native tongue better than Gideon was. Jed stepped away and back to the porch, slipping back behind Gideon. 47

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward “There she is, Sheriff,” he said. “Star. Say hello.” Star inched up slowly, but to Clement, which amused Gideon to no end, and bumped his chest with her muzzle. Clement grinned and reached to scratch behind Star’s ears. “That’s enough, Star. Take a bow.” She took two steps back then went down gracefully on her front knees, shaking her head slowly before getting back up. Gideon grinned and called, “Good girl, Star. “What’d I tell you, Mike?” Clement said, as proud as if she belonged to him. “Pretty little thing,” the sheriff agreed. He was impressed, but he didn’t want to look like a rube. “That she is. So yeah, boys, I’d be willing to help liven up your townfolks’ rest day. If you could help me with something.” “What?” Clement asked, agreeable. “Might be more a job for the sheriff. Jed had somebody take his gloves right off him, just off your main street. I reckon you don’t appreciate robbers any more than I do.” The sheriff frowned. “Gloves don’t seem like a reason to get het up,” he said, because Gideon clearly was. Behind Gideon, Jed shifted on the porch, a warning, Gideon knew, and one that did give him pause. “Not if they ain’t yours, I suppose,” Gideon said, curbing his temper. “But I paid good money for ’em,” even though it’d been Jed’s money he’d handed over to the shopkeep all those weeks ago, “and we’ve got weeks of winter riding in front of us. I sure would appreciate it if you collected them back for him, and maybe set those hooligans to right about stealing from decent visitors?” 48

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward The sheriff wasn’t dumb; his lips thinned and he stared first at Gideon, then back at Jed. “Come on, Mike,” Clement said brusquely. “Don’t care who they steal from, it’s still stealing. You take care of it or I will!” Gideon resisted a grin; he was frankly astonished that half a day’s good labor had made such an ally of Clement. “I’ll see to it,” the sheriff said. “Injun, what’d—” “His name’s Jedediah,” Gideon cut in firmly, earning another frown from the sheriff and another grin from Clement. He could almost feel Jed’s tension behind him. The sheriff cleared his throat. “Jedediah, what’d they look like?” “The gloves? They were—” Gideon just barely resisted snapping, “The robbers.” “Boys,” Jed said slowly, his voice low. “Old enough to need a shave. Hair like Gideon’s, light. One wore a knit hat; the other had a black coat.” “Sounds like the Batson kids,” Clement offered. “Yeah,” the sheriff nodded slowly, “it does. I’ll look into it if I see ’em before the show.” “Be obliged if you’d look into it when the show starts. Make an example of ’em.” The sheriff frowned but nodded agreement, and Gideon called that a win. Jed stepped forward for the first time and cleared his throat. “We’d just sat down to eat. You want to join us? Warmer inside,” he said, low and even. Gideon called that even more of a win, 49

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward in spite of the fact that they’d have to share their rabbit stew. “Much obliged,” Clement said, grinning at the sheriff, “but I’ve got work waiting for me.” He stepped up onto the porch and shook Jed’s hand again, though, clapping him on the shoulder. Next to the burly man, Jed looked almost like a china doll. “We’d best be getting back to town,” the sheriff said, then slowly, frowning a bit, added, “but thanks just the same. See you boys tomorrow.” He swung up and reined out, and Gideon watched until both men were back on the rutted little trail. Jed had already returned Star to her lead line and moved both of the horses into a different area to search out grass. He followed Gideon into the house a few minutes later, picking his plate back up. “We could stand some oats,” he said as he fumbled with the spoon, reminding Gideon of how cold his hands must be. “You think it was wise, asking them for help? It’s just a pair of gloves; no need getting the town upset about it.” Gideon waited until Jed was chewing and then asked, “You think it was all right for them to take those from you?” Jed closed his eyes and swallowed before he said, “No, but there are things far worse that can happen. Worst thing you can do is embarrass them, not just the boys but their folks and their folks’ friends.” Gideon smiled but not because he was amused. “You learned a whole lot at that missionary school. Learned a lot about turning the other cheek. I respect that, Jed, but I don’t like it. You deserve better.” Jed blinked his eyes open then turned to look at Gideon. “I got better. I got you. I’ll give up everything I got to keep you too.” 50

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward It was the longest declaration he’d made to Gideon of his feelings, and it put out Gideon’s anger as easily as pouring water on a fire. He stared at Jed, wanting to touch him, but knowing that if he did, he’d not be able to stop himself. And right now, control, and proving that he could exercise it, was more important. So he settled for saying, “I love you too.” But the need to be with Jed was growing, and after lunch, he left Jed to clean up and pulled on his jacket, going out to work Star through her tricks. He needed to talk to Jed about performing tomorrow, but he wasn’t certain how his lover would react. Working Star was a good distraction; most of the tricks he’d do were easy enough, but he’d learned a few things from his father, and it had been a while since he’d done them with Star. The more dangerous ones required all his attention, which kept his mind off of Jed, and out of his pants. He was sweaty and tired toward late afternoon when he finished rubbing down Star. He cleaned himself up, washing out his shirt and using it on himself despite what he’d told Jed earlier in the day, and then pulled his coat back on to ward away the chill. It surprised him that he hadn’t seen Jed; even cold, it was too nice a day for the other man to hole up inside; Jed would more likely haunt a porch than a fireplace even when it was pouring down rain. “You feeling all right?” he called as he walked into the house, closing the door behind him. “It’s a fine afternoon—” He stopped speaking as he turned and looked at the room. On the far wall, across from the fireplace and near the head of their makeshift bed, stood a cedar tree. It was small, and it stood in a burlap sack full 51

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward of dirt, roots and all, Gideon thought, Jed wouldn’t kill a tree for no reason. Jed had decorated it in colored strands of thread and ribbon, torn-up strips from one of his bandanas and the ties he used for his hair, scraps of cloth from his woven saddle blanket, anything he had that was bright. There were also red holly berries and a couple of bright red apples. A Christmas tree. The idea of it, the fact of it so unexpected made him stand there, still and staring, until Jed’s voice broke his spell. “We had these in school. The sisters thought it would help us understand Christmas better, to have trees to decorate. We made our own decorations. I didn’t have much—” “It’s beautiful,” Gideon said, shaking free of his surprise and more touched than he could say. “You did this for me?” Jed shrugged, but color rose in his face and he looked away from Gideon to the tree. “I have candles.” He gestured to the floor where he was sitting, and Gideon saw that he was using his hunting knife to cut several thin candles in half then paring down the wax to free the wicks. It was then that Gideon recognized the smell wafting through the room from the fireplace: chicken. He looked to the fireplace where he saw the skillet set back in the far corner where the heat was steady, the top of it covered with a pot. “That’s where you were yesterday,” he said, closing his eyes as he drew in a deep breath of the rich smell. “I thought about it, decided you were right,” he said calmly. “Chicken would taste good.” He was working with his knife, and Gideon dropped down beside him. 52

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward Beside the fireplace, the washtub they’d been using as a trough sat filled with water; Gideon stuck his hand in and found it warm, saw the pail sitting right in the coals where more water boiled. It was no wonder Jed had been inside most of the day. “You didn’t have to do all this,” Gideon murmured, but he could help but feel like a kid—at Christmas. “It is your holiday,” Jed said, his eyes on what he was doing. “You wanted to stay here, to celebrate it.” Gideon watched him, smiling. “I wanted to stay here to be warm with you. This is all icing on the cake.” Jed frowned and glanced at Gideon long enough to say, “I didn’t make a cake.” Gideon grinned and walked over to cuff him gently on the back of the head. “You know what I meant.” “Yes,” Jed admitted, and he leaned back to smile at him. He didn’t want to fidget, but the smell of good cooking off the fireplace and the sharp smell of resin off the Christmas tree, and Jed’s hard work to make him happy… well, it made him want to be grateful. And since he’d sworn off his favorite way of showing gratitude just yesterday, he sighed instead and knelt down in front of Jed. “This is real nice, Jed. I thank you.” Jed smiled at him, soft, and nodded. “That chicken gonna be ready soon?” Gideon asked. “No,” Jed said easily. “I only put it on after I got the wash tub filled. Knew you’d want another bath, if you could. I’m surprised it’s 53

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward smelling so good already.” “It is. I’m looking forward to it,” he said, nodding. “I got you something too,” he added lamely, because what he was about to offer wasn’t a present so much as an idea that he’d got, right when he’d seen this place and been sure they’d stay through Christmas. “Don’t know if you’ll want it now, though, to be honest.” Jed raised his eyebrows, curiosity driving him. “I want it.” Gideon went to his saddlebags and dug out the bundled herbs he carried. He couldn’t use the fry pan, and in the end, he pilfered his tin cup; it had a handle, after all. He took a breath to calm his nerves and looked over. “You about done there?” Jed looked at the candle stubs he’d cut apart. “As I can be.” Gideon glanced toward the window, where the lowering sun cast long shadows across the yard. “Need to put the coat up,” he said, then set word to deed, carefully covering the window to protect Jed from curious eyes. When he turned back, he found Jed touching the bundle of herbs in the cup, then sniffing his fingers. “Sage,” Gideon answered the question Jed hadn’t asked. “Cedar needles. Few mint leaves,” he smiled, “’cause I like the smell of the mint best.” As a kid, Gideon had been fascinated with the Indians who traveled with Bill Tourney’s show, mostly because the men could throw a tomahawk and split an apple from a moving horse, and the woman could put an arrow through either half of it. Gideon wasn’t that knowledgeable about all this, he just knew that the braves in the show had washed a lot of things, and burned a lot of things—herbs mostly, and tobacco, but scraps of colored fabric too—one color for each of the four directions, A’paho had told him. 54

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward Gideon wasn’t sure if he was honoring his man or insulting him, using someone else’s chants. And he didn’t know, now, if Jed would tell him. He took a deep breath, though, and started talking. “A’paho and his sister, they’d burn sage and cedar to purify their tents, every time we put up someplace new,” he said, and he picked up the tied-up herbs to stick an end in the fire. The cedar caught and sparked, and he drew them back, watching the flame intently for a few seconds, before he blew it out and dropped the smoldering herbs back into the cup. Smoke gushed, cedar oil as pungent as the sage, and Gideon looked up through his lashes at Jed’s quiet, concentrating face. “They taught me one of their chants in English, so I’d know what I was saying. That, uh, okay with you?” Jed’s mouth twitched, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yes.” “Four directions,” he said quietly. “East is the light of a new day, the place of all beginnings.” He waved the burning incense toward the east. “South is the sun at the highest point, a place of youth and innocence.” He waved the cup toward the south, watching as the chimney draft grabbed up the smoke. “Darkness comes from the west, the place of the unknown. North holds the winter, pure and white, the place of wisdom.” He followed with the incense, watching the smoke waft every which way. Jed said four words in his native tongue, words Gideon thought he recognized, and then translated. “Body, mind, heart, spirit,” Jed said softly. “The four aspects of our nature. Sun, Clan mothers, Spirit Keeper, and the Star Nations, help us manifest our needs, and remember who we are, what is to come, and why we walk this earth.” It was as much a prayer as Gideon had ever heard from the tent 55

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward preachers who had sometimes traveled with Bill Tourney’s show. Gideon had always known that, but it took on special meaning now, with Jed and the Christmas tree and all. Jed stood slowly and ran his fingers down Gideon’s arm, past his wrist to ease the cup out of his hand, and nodded. “Kneel,” he said, and Gideon did, resting his weight on his boot heels. “I think your words are the words of the Tia-o-qui-aht,” he said, “friends to the Sioux from further north. Canada.” Jed’s tiny grimace came and went so fast, Gideon almost missed it. Then Jed moved the cup in front of him, drew it up Gideon’s body from the floor to the top of his head, and blew short breaths to make the smoke move toward him. It smelled strong and heady, and Jed whispered words in Sioux that Gideon didn’t recognize before he stood back and did the same to himself. “It is a blessing,” Jed said somberly, “to know the true way one should walk.” Jed walked over to the tree then, and used the embers off the herbs to light the candlewicks one by one. The little flames flickered as he placed them carefully, right at the ends of the tree branches. He let wax melt, making a thick, warm drift of it, then stuck the candle bottom into it while it was still hot. The biggest, he set near the top, then held his hand a couple of feet above it for a minute, checking its heat to make sure it wouldn’t light the cross beam above it on fire. Satisfied, Jed blessed the tree, smudging it with the herb smoke; his mouth moved, but Gideon couldn’t hear the words this time. He was just caught up in it all, in the combining of English and Sioux, of prayers and rituals. Jed’s Indian spirit practices had made white religions more real to Gideon than any traveling preacher or church 56

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward prayer he’d ever known, because Jed’s practices seemed to put him right at peace with the whole of the earth. Gideon wanted that. He’d even gotten it, a little, first from the Indians in the show and a lot more, from Jed. “Sounds like prayers,” he said quietly into a silence broken only by the crackling fire. “It is prayer, Gideon. That’s what ritual is: prayer. Actions with intentions connect us to our ancestors, to the great spirits. I will wash you now.” It wasn’t a question, and Gideon didn’t mind anyway. He nodded, some part of him deeply content just to be here with Jed. “Take off your clothes.” Gideon nodded again and stood up, hastily stripping out of his clothes and laying them out by the mattress. Jed silently took his hand and led him to the washtub, waving his arm to motion Gideon in. Jed was like that often; he didn’t use words when they weren’t needed, and much as Gideon liked a good conversation, he liked this even more. He stepped in, wriggling his toes in the warm water, and knelt down into the cramped tub. Jed set the herbs to his left, away from the fireplace, and Gideon watched the smoke waft toward and then past him, watched it mix in with the fire smoke. Then Jed dug out a bar of soap he’d wrapped in a cloth, took off his own boots, pants, and shirt, and knelt down beside the tub. “Gonna get me all het up,” Gideon warned, annoyed with himself. Jed’s frown turned suspicious, and Gideon waved a hand, embarrassed. “I thought about sharing a bath with you like that, at first, yeah,” he admitted, “but I know that ain’t the point of this. A’paho said mothers bathed their children to honor them, that husbands 57

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward bathed their wives for the same reason.” “That is one reason, yes,” Jed agreed. “I am honoring you.” Gideon felt it again, that loosening in his chest and belly that meant things to him he didn’t understand yet, just recognized as important. He sat as still as he could, hands on his knees, while Jed worked around him, and after a time Jed started humming. The native words soothed him, made it easy to accept the soft scrubbing of his skin, the drag of the cloth over his neck and shoulders, down his arms to each individual finger and back up into his armpits. Jed washed his front with gentle, slow swirls of the cloth, scratching through the sparse hair on his chest and belly, stopping only when he reached the waterline right at Gideon’s hips. Again, no words; Jed tapped his hip, encouraging him to rise up, and then picked up the cloth again, worked it around his thighs and into the crease of his ass, down between his thighs to cup and clean his balls, then his cock. He couldn’t not get hard, but a quick glance to Jed revealed no censure, and he spread his knees as wide as the tub allowed so Jed could clean his legs, too. Jed pushed at his shoulders to settle him back in the water and used his cupped hands to rinse him, dropping handfuls of water again and again over his shoulders and chest and back, using his hands to smooth the soap away. He felt about as clean as he’d ever been, and as content as he could imagine being, even with his cock still hard between his legs. “Can I wash you?” he asked, feeling a reverence that seemed unnatural to the task. Jed nodded and stood, held a hand out to help him to his feet, and 58

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward grabbed up the blanket they’d sleep under later to wrap it around him. He watched as Jed finished stripping, surprised to find that he wasn’t the only one with a rebellious prick, and he took up the cloth as Jed knelt in the washtub. He tried to remember exactly how Jed had done it and started with his neck, sliding his long hair to one side. He was as thorough and more careful with Jed than he was with himself. Jed’s stomach tightened, but he made no sound, didn’t even a sigh as Gideon touched his hip, bidding him to rise to his knees. It was hard not to linger between Jed’s legs and strange to touch his hard shaft without lower intentions. It was strange, but it was good too, and when he let go of Jed’s cock to run the cloth down over his thighs, he realized he’d started up Jed’s chant again, without even knowing what he was saying. He looked up to catch Jed smiling at him with such fondness that Gideon couldn’t help but smile back. “Am I doing this all right?” “Yes.” Gideon nodded and stood up to strip off the blanket and hold it out for Jed. “Uh, anything else?” he asked. Jed stepped right up against him, wet and warm and clean, wrapping him in the blanket that hung around his shoulders and resting his hands at Gideon’s hips to nudge their groins together. “Yes.” Gideon sucked in a breath of anticipation. “We ain’t got to do anything, Jed,” he said, affirming his promise. Giving his respect. Jed just tilted his head to look at him, and the blue-gray of his eyes looked almost black in the flickering firelight. “Yesterday, I asked 59

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward the spirits to guide me,” he said quietly. “I thought maybe I should leave you, for both our sakes. But the spirits answered me today. I will not leave.” Gideon was frankly shocked by the straightforward words, but he realized he wasn’t that surprised. Jed was strong, maybe the strongest man he’d ever known; it was part of what Gideon loved about him. Jed could leave him—would leave him, if he thought that was what was best for either of them. It scared Gideon, how fragile this love of theirs was, and how strong too. “I hate that I made you ask ’em that,” he said earnestly, meaning it. “I know.” Jed leaned in to kiss him, and Gideon used all the restraint he’d learned at his parents’ knee, working with spirited animals and crowds of paying customers. He didn’t even put his arms around Jed, not yet; he just stood there and let them work each other’s mouths, slid his tongue into Jed’s when he was invited, shared spit and love and everything he had to share. When Jed broke the kiss and drew a few inches away, he was panting slightly. Gideon was worse. “I do not want to make you change,” he said slowly. “Nothing in the world is a sure bet but change,” Gideon said. In his twenty years he’d seen the shift from horses to trains and trolleys, from wild lands to settled territories that Bill Tourney’s Traveling Western show had traveled through, seen gaslights crop up in the forward-thinking cities, replacing street fires and chasing away the night from homes and factories. He could just barely imagine the changes that waited for him and Jed. “I just want to meet it with you, 60

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward Jed,” he said, the words as heartfelt as any he’d ever spoken. Jed’s arms tightened around him even though it made the blanket fall off him and puddle on the floor. They stood there together, naked and clean and warm, and Gideon chewed on his lips, waiting, determined that Jed was going to guide them this time. At least this once, they had the time and Gideon had the patience. “Lie down,” Jed said after a moment, and Gideon did, stretching out on the mattress and shivering without Jed’s warmth against him. Jed moved to put the bar of soap on the edge of the hearth to dry and then walked naked to the Christmas tree and blew out the candles. Gideon couldn’t help but look at his lover’s fine form, so trim and smooth, no lines to mark the sun on him because his skin was already brown. He was proportioned right too, even though he was small, his legs straight and strong, his ass curved and lean, his waist narrow and his ribs widening up to flat, square shoulders. Gideon felt himself get hotter just looking, watching how Jed’s long hair split at his neck and fell forward over his shoulders to reveal that long neck, and he flat-out could not understand how anybody, man or woman, could look at Jed and see anything to hate. The candle on top of the tree, the one for the Bethlehem star, Jed left burning. He walked over and knelt down beside Gideon, placing his hand on Gideon’s quivering belly. “I will do for you now,” Jed said. Gideon didn’t know quite what that meant, but he sure liked the sound of it. He smiled and reached up, and Jed fell down on him, matching their bodies from mouth to knee. It was so good, with Jed— everything was so good. He put his hands on Jed’s firm ass, held tight, and rubbed his hips back and forth, pleasuring both of them while 61

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward they kissed. Jed pulled back, propping on his straight arms, and looked down at him before moving away for the little tin, and Gideon sucked in a hard breath; Jed meant that. He couldn’t get Jed to fuck him much, mostly because Jed liked it the other way best, but Gideon had never said no, and he wasn’t about to now. If this was his Christmas reward, he’d take it with a smile. Sure enough, when Jed returned to the mattress, he walked up into the space between Gideon’s ankles, and Gideon kicked his legs wide to make room for his lover. Jed smiled at him, his soft eyes shining in the firelight until he bent forward and all that long hair fell over his shoulders, hiding his face. Gideon reached and buried his fingers in it, thick strands like tiny cords of rope that were as soft and cool as any silk he’d ever felt. Jed tilted his head and glanced up; then he bent lower and put his mouth on Gideon’s shaft. Gideon couldn’t help it; he bucked up and groaned, sliding his cock deeper into wet, sucking heat. This was better than anything he’d imagined—and he had imagined a lot to warm himself on cold trails. Jed drew back, fighting his clutching hands, and swirled his tongue over the head, and Gideon groaned again. He tried to swallow it down but gave up in the end; no one was around to hear, and Jed would tell him— He let go of Jed’s hair and propped on his elbows to stare down at him. “You’ll tell me, if I do something you don’t like?” he asked. Jed replaced his mouth with his hand, holding his cock tenderly, and looked up at him. “I like everything you do, in this,” he said. “I mean—” Gideon swallowed, because the picture of Jed down 62

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward there between his legs did awful, wonderful things to him, “I want you to promise you’ll tell me. If I get too loud for you or something.” Jed’s face looked serious and sober in the shadows, and he nodded. “I will tell you.” “Jed,” he said, desperate enough to reach down and catch his lover’s cheek, “tell me before you ask the spirits, tell me before you think about leaving. I- I don’t think I could bear to lose you ’cause of something I did. Hell, hit me if you have to, but give me the chance to make it right.” Jed held his gaze, his eyes serious. Then he turned, his lips touching Gideon’s palm with gentleness. “I will tell you,” he said, looking back to Gideon. “If you give me cause.” It was all the agreement he was going to give, but all that Gideon could ask for. Gideon dropped back flat to the mattress and shifted his hips, hungry for more, and Jed returned to his task, but Gideon could hear the scrape of metal on metal and knew more was coming. Sure enough, as Jed tilted his head to take more of Gideon’s cock, his free hand pressed up underneath Gideon’s balls, fingers slick with the grease. Gideon groaned and dug his heels into the mattress to lift his ass up and make more room for Jed down there. More suckling as two straight, narrow fingers breached him, and little shocks of pleasure shot through him. “Jed, I—” Jed lifted off him again, and Gideon realized his lover would probably do that every time he started to talk. It was a damned good incentive to get him to keep his mouth shut, he thought with a smile. “This is my gift to you,” Jed said. “Let me give it.” Gideon bit his lip and nodded, and Jed’s fingers pressed deeper 63

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward into him, opening him slowly. “You ain’t careful,” he said, keeping his eyes closed, “and I’ll come before you get far.” Damned if Jed didn’t rise up off his cock again. “You do, and we’ll start again. We have time.” The words sent their own excitement through him, and Gideon just let go and let Jed in, let him do whatever he wanted. Two fingers became three, making his hole loose and slick, even as Jed’s lips tightened on the tip of his shaft. This was—he didn’t have any words, which was probably a good thing. Jed’s free hand squeezed at his hip, urging him to thrust, so he did, riding between those two points of bliss. He was getting close already, and if just two days without did this to him, it was no wonder Jed’s patience with him would run thin. “Gettin’ close,” he warned anyway, and he got his answer when Jed pressed forward, pulling the head of his cock all the way down his throat and swallowing. That was all it took: his muscles seized and his balls tingled and he started spilling down his lover’s throat as that deep pleasure jerked through his insides. He tried to hold the noise down to a quiet yelp, but he didn’t think he was successful. The lights he saw sparking might just be the candle that flickered at the top of the tree, but it seemed like more, like a whole sky full of stars exploding in his head, and all the while Jed’s fingers moved in and out, feeding his body more pleasure than it knew what to do with. He didn’t know how Jed could swallow with his cock so deep in Jed’s throat, but it wasn’t a thought he spared much attention on. The pleasure was too good, too real and rich, tingling from his toes up to his hips, from his fingertips up to his heart. He lifted his head to see, 64

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward watched the fluttering curtain of Jed’s hair where it veiled his groin completely, hiding the sight of his cock in Jed’s mouth. Gideon loved that, too, that picture, all that hair… he sighed and reached out with weak hands to cradle Jed’s head while he gasped and whimpered and little spasms of pleasure raced over his skin, through him and into Jed. “Jed,” he said, just because he knew Jed would lift his head and look up at him. Jed did, and his lips shone with spit or come, and even that little detail, so simple and erotic, made it all better. Gideon swallowed then coughed to clear his throat. “Come up here,” he croaked. The fingers eased out of him, and he squeezed his butt cheeks against the looseness there, and Jed stretched out on top of him. His body felt stiff with tension, and Gideon didn’t like that at all. “Let me suck you,” he breathed. Even though his hips thrust involuntarily at the words, Jed shook his head and then rested his cheek on Gideon’s chest. “We will wait,” he said. “How can you do that?” he asked, wonder and envy evenly matched inside him. Jed grinned. “Age. Experience. Patience.” “More patience than I got,” Gideon said, willing to admit the truth. The quiet huff of breath, the barest of chuckles, startled him. “That would not require much.” Gideon tried to frown, just to return the joke, but it took too much effort and went too hard against the pleasured affection he felt 65

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward for this man. “You funnin’ me?” he asked anyway. Jed’s nod made his hair spill and sway, tickling Gideon’s chest and armpit. He flinched, reached past Jed’s head to scratch at the itch and push some of that long hair back, and sighed as the smell of sage mixed with familiar Jed smells wafted out of Jed’s hair. The scents went a long way to reviving him, and he dragged a hank of it up to his face, rubbed the silk of it over his jaw, and breathed in the smell that was earth and sun and Jed. “Well, what can I do, then? While we wait?” “You can just be, Gideon,” Jed said lazily. Gideon didn’t know what that meant, but he wasn’t going to argue about it. He also wasn’t sure he could just lie here, even as satisfied as he was, with Jed’s firm little cock poking his hip. But before he could decide how to express any of that, Jed started chanting, and with his face and neck pressed against Gideon, it felt like the sound echoed into his chest before it reached his ears. He sighed and held Jed a little tighter, turning his head to watch the flickering candle at the top of the tree and how the firelight caught out the colors of the apples and ribbons. Softer still Jed’s voice dropped, and the tone rose a few notes, steady and strong, so that when Jed put his hand on Gideon’s thigh, Gideon opened his legs wide, hopeful. Jed’s fingers slid back into him, started a steady, slow thrust in time to his native words, and Gideon felt that itch in his balls that heralded arousal. “It is good, to be young,” Jed said, noticing. He wished he was younger, because he wasn’t firming up as fast as he wanted, but what Jed was doing to his insides felt so good it almost didn’t matter. 66

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward Maybe it didn’t. “Get inside me,” he whispered. “You are not ready,” Jed said evenly. A squeeze of his muscles sent a pleasure as sharp and fast as any shot of liquor into him. “I think maybe I am,” he said. “I…” his mouth was dry and his heart was pounding. “I think maybe my cock doesn’t care, Jed.” He blinked up at his partner. “Get in me? Please?” After a thoughtful pause, Jed nodded and pulled his fingers out. “You are still tight,” he warned. “Maybe. Gotta tell you though, I don’t think I care.” He wrapped his legs around Jed’s waist when Jed slid onto him. He used his hands to grab Jed’s butt and help position him, urgent now, hungry for it even though his flagging cock hadn’t caught up to the rest of his body. “Remember you said that,” Jed warned him as he hunched back to line himself up. He pushed inside with a grunt that Gideon echoed; all right, maybe Jed had a point there. But in spite of the pain, he wanted more and he wanted it now. Jed had his own pace, though—as always. He pushed forward, but it was slow and steady, despite the pressure of Gideon’s heels on his ass or the pull of his fingers on Jed’s upper arms. “Patience,” he said when Gideon whimpered, “you will like it.” When he was flush against Gideon, as deep inside as he could go, he held there. “Move,” Gideon urged, wanting more. “Feel it,” Jed countered. “Feel me inside you. Breathe, Gideon, and feel me.” He almost resisted, almost cursed Jed for his demands, but the memory of the story haunted him, that and the ritual that made them 67

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward as much a part of each other as this did. With effort, he drew a deep breath and smelled the cedar and the sage, the soap and the scent of Jed himself. Then he felt it, the steady, rhythmic pulse of Jed’s heart. It beat against his chest where they touched, but more, it seemed to beat inside him, where Jed was lodged and waiting. “Breathe,” Jed said again, and Gideon did. The same smells, the same rhythm, but something more. As Gideon studied on it, on the drumbeat of Jed’s heart, he felt it in his own chest. “We honor each other,” Jed whispered as he slowly drew back just a little then slid forward. “We are one.” Gideon drew another breath, and the smell of the herbs cleared away everything but the feel of Jed. His cock lay heavy on his belly, and though it was ready and they both wanted it, it was not the thing that drove Gideon now. He wanted this for Jed, as Jed wanted it for him. When Jed moved, Gideon felt it all through his body, in his heart and his head. They breathed together, moved together even as the need for each other drove them faster. Gideon heard his own grunts and gasps, but they were matched by Jed’s, and by his soft clear words: “Breathe, Gideon, know me.” He had never before wanted not to come as much as he wanted it now, never before wanted something go on and on for as long as possible. As the need for release grew, pushing up from his balls into his belly, he tried to keep it at bay, reaching down to catch his cock, trying to hold it back. But Jed took his hand, drawing it away and replacing it with his own. “Spill for me,” he whispered. “Share this with me and I will share it with you.” Gideon stared up into the eyes he knew like no others and came. 68

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward It was like nothing he’d ever felt before, ripping his soul out of him and sending it to heaven, maybe, somewhere warm and soft and smelling of cedar and mint and sage, with Jed as part of him, mixed into him so that he knew his thoughts and fears and love. He came back to himself to find Jed heavy on top of him, cock still deep inside, the ends of his hair tickling Gideon’s ribs. His legs were beginning to cramp, and he shifted, wondering if he could stretch them out without disturbing Jed, when Jed slowly pushed up. He smiled as he stared down at Gideon, a soft, sweet expression that made Gideon aware all over of what it would do to him to lose this man. “I love you,” he said, catching the back of Jed’s head and pulling him down into a hard kiss. But as their lips connected, the kiss softened, and he pulled Jed tight against him, savoring the feel of him. This was as important, more important, than the coupling they’d just shared. This was the love that he would never want to lose. His folks weren’t religious people, but his mother had always said that the special days like Christmas and Easter were all about love. Gideon had never felt that more fully than he did right now. As Jed’s cock eventually slipped free, Gideon sighed, the emptiness like the cold outside. But Jed kissed his temple, his nose, and his lips before drawing away. He moved to the bath, taking up the cloth they had used and cleaning himself up before returning to the bed where he carefully and gently cleaned Gideon, as he had earlier. They lay together for a while, Gideon napping contentedly, waking only when Jed roused him to feed Gideon with his own hands—hot chicken and warmed bread, strong herb tea. Afterwards, Jed blew out the last candle on the tree and tossed the bundle of herbs 69

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward onto the banked, slow-burning fire so that Gideon slept dreamlessly with Jed close and warm against him. * * * “ YES.” Jed said it quietly and so easily that Gideon almost missed it. He was already into his next sentence, the argument about showing the people of Kingman that Indians had talents, that Jed could do more than muck a stall or ride a horse bareback. “…those kids that they have nothing to be scared of—what?” Jed smiled at him. “I will do it,” he said, reaching for the coffee pot. “If it will please you.” Gideon smiled but only for a second. “It—it ain’t about pleasing me, even though it would,” he said slowly, trying to think this through. “I would like for you to do this with me. But… I….” He stopped, looking at Jed, seeing the way he looked back, his eyes bright, his expression curious and open, his body relaxed and friendly. “When we did shows in smaller towns, where the people had never seen an Injun, they always started off distrusting and, well, scared maybe. People fear what they don’t know, Jed, you know that.” Jed nodded, not arguing. “But after we’d do a show, the first people who’d get questions from the crowd were the Injuns. We always joked about whether we should just do away with Mama’s show all together and get the Injuns to take off their clothes,” he laughed, and Jed shook his head, but he was smiling. “You want me to do my ‘tricks’, as you call them, for these people. For money.” He shook his head, and Gideon reached out, catching his chin. 70

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward “I want you to do what you do to earn their respect,” he countered. “We don’t have to take the money, Jed, hell, we don’t have to stay for the dinner. Truth be told, I’d rather come back here and light up the Christmas tree one more time, eat the rest of whatever we have warm, and lay with you against me warm and safe. But I want to show these people that you’re more than a story in a newspaper. I want to show them that you’re more of a man than they are.” Jed looked down, thinking, and then he leaned forward, coming in close enough to brush his lips over Gideon’s. “You want the gloves back,” he said quietly. Gideon smiled. “That too. But if you don’t want to make an issue of it, I won’t. I’ll settle for keeping you safe, Jed. Keeping us safe.” Jed stared at him for several seconds before he took Gideon’s hand in his. “You mean that,” he said softly, staring at Gideon as if he could see into his head. And maybe he could. “I ain’t good at turning the other cheek,” Gideon said slowly. “But I’d be worse without you.” Jed nodded. Star was a trouper. Not only did Gideon vault off her back and land on his feet, upright, she licked Clement on the face and made him blush a color that reminded Gideon of the apples in the firelight. Jed was perfect. His tricks—which weren’t tricks at all, as Gideon knew—impressed everyone. He rode bareback, then dropped so low that he was under his horse’s belly picking up things off the ground, then he bounced stiff-legged from one side of his horse to the other as he gripped the pony’s mane and reins, remounting at full gallop. Afterward, he shied away from questions, but Gideon answered for 71

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward him, and in the end, Jed agreed to dinner at the restaurant, compliments of the town. They had decorated the place for the holiday, bright fabrics and festive wreathes, and it seemed like the whole town had gathered together, either here or at the church, and the company was good. The meal was good, too—but not as good as the chicken Jed had made for him. They left the town with full bellies, good wishes, and Jed’s gloves. The sheriff had gotten them back before the performance and handed them to Gideon with the warning that he wasn’t going to let there be trouble. For a second, Gideon’s temper had flared, but then he’d looked at Jed and remembered his promise. He’d thanked the sheriff, and they’d gone back to talking about the show. Afterward, the Batson boys had approached them. Gideon had known them as soon as he saw them, not just by description but by the way Jed had stiffened and stepped back. Afraid, but Gideon had known that it wasn’t for himself. The first boy, the tall one, bigger than Jed, had stepped up and stretched out a hand and for a second that was as long as forever, Gideon had thought he was going to hurt Jed, and he already had his hand on his gun— “Sorry we did that,” the boy had mumbled, looking down at the ground. “Didn’t know you was a performer.” “You ride real good,” the second one said, more eager than his brother. “How’d you do that?” Jed caught Gideon’s gaze, confused. Gideon shrugged. People were like that; once they got all impressed with you, they just forgot everything else. 72

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage * * Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward

* * * “ HATE leaving this place,” Gideon said two days later as he tied off his bedroll to the back of the saddle. Jed sighed. “No hurry,” he said quietly. “Clement said he’d pay us to work.” He was staring toward the river, toward the place where they’d planted the tree. It was close enough to get water, but it wouldn’t wash away or drown in the spring thaw. Jed had left most of the decorations on it--honoring all their gods. In the early morning sun, the ribbons were bright as spring birds, their colors shining in the clear light. It was a temptation. Gideon liked it here, liked this place, liked Clement, and thought he could like most of the people who lived here. Certainly he liked what he and Jed had shared here. What they had become. But he knew that this contentedness would travel with them; it was part of who and what they, together, were. And he had so much more to show Jed, to prove to him. “Might be best to get out before the next storm blows in from the west,” he offered. “We may be back,” he added softly, looking at the tree, at the bright-colored bandanna that told him of Jed’s love. “But I want to show you more, Jed. I want to find a place for us where you don’t have to be afraid. And I don’t have to be afraid for us.” Jed didn’t say anything, but after a few seconds he kicked his horse forward. As Gideon set out behind him, he felt the soft chants of the song and sang along, welcoming in the future and a new day. Together. 73

Got Mistletoe Madness?

The Dreamspinner Press 2009 Advent Calendar is available at http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com.

M ARGARET M ILLS is a professional technical writer and editor; branching into narrative fiction seemed like a natural extension of the pleasure that writing has always been for her. A California resident, Maggie enjoys hiking in the nearby hills, reading, walking the dog on the beach, and writing with her co-author, Tedi Ward. Maggie met Tedi in a writers’ group, and their personalities mix almost as well as their characters’ do; they enjoy writing the kinds of stories they love to read. Her most exciting adventure involved a brief but thrilling skydiving habit. Her next exciting adventure involves a trip to Yosemite National Park where she’ll be hiking Half Dome with her husband of twentyfive years. Her web site is http://sites.google.com/site/wordprocesses/home.

TEDI WARD has been a technical writer in the legal and academic fields for many years. She lives in Georgia and enjoys reading, walking her dog, and writing with her co-author, Margaret Mills. Tedi met Maggie in a writers’ group, and their personalities mix almost as well as their characters’ do; they enjoy writing the kinds of stories they love to read. When time permits, Tedi enjoys hiking, cooking, and reading, using her commute to and from work to listen to audio books or the news if she’s feeling particularly mellow about the state of the world. Her web site is http://sites.google.com/site/wordprocesses/home.