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

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

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

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-uhn-
nya, 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

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 half-
abandoned 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

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.

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.”

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

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

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

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

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

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,

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 wide-
eyed at his mama’s show the night before. He and Jed had that look in

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,

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

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.

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

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

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 twenty-
five. 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

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

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

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

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage *

* Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward

and early.

* * *

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

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.

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

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

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

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,

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.

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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 ass-
end, 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.”

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,

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

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.

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

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.”

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

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

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.

* * *

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

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.”

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.

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?”

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,

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.”

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

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.

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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,

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

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

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

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,

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

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.

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

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.

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

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.

* * *

“

.” 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.

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

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.

Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage *

* Margaret Mills and Tedy Ward

* * *

“

ATE

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.

Got

Mistletoe Madness?

The Dreamspinner Press 2009 Advent Calendar is available at

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com.

ARGARET

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 twenty-
five years.

Her web site is http://sites.google.com/site/wordprocesses/home.

EDI

ARD

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.

Document Outline

Cover
Copyright
Earth and Sun, Cedar and Sage
About the Authors
Dreamspinner Press

Wyszukiwarka

Podobne podstrony:
PLANETO-FIZYKAL STATE OF THE EARTH AND LIFE pl , Ciekawostki, Rok 2012
Center of Earth and Sky 2 Painting the Desert
Center of Earth and Sky 1
Daughters of Earth and Other St Judith Merril
J Ward Reciptory and Frendship in Beauvoir s Thought
Sean Michael Center 01 Center of the Earth and Sky
Mills Of Dreams, Devils, Irrationality, and The Master and Margarita
Outdoor Cedar Table and Chairs
Hirneise, Lothar Chemotherapy Helps Cure Cancer, And The Earth Is Flat (Article, Ode 10 2003)(1)
How YOU Can Personally Defeat the NWO and Create Peace on Earth
13 Interoperability, data discovery and access The e infrastructures for earth sciences resources
collimated flash test and in sun measurements of high concentration photovoltaic modules
Sun Also Rises, The Hemmingway Heroes and their Roles
Appleton, Victor II Tom Swift Jr 005 Tom Swift and His Atomic Earth Blaster Jim Lawrence UC
Earth Wind And Fire AfterTheLoveHasGone
sapiens 422 2 2 geoarchaeology where human social and earth sciences meet with technology
Isaac Asimov Lucky Starr 03 And the Big Sun of Mercury

więcej podobnych podstron

Margaret Mills & Tedy Ward Earth And Sun, Cedar And Sage

Document Outline