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  “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 onto the banked, slow-burning fire so that Gideon slept dreamlessly with Jed close and warm against him.

  * * *

  “Yes.” Jed said it quietly and so easily that Gideon almost missed it. He was already into his next sentence, the argument about showing the people of Kingman that Indians had talents, that Jed could do more than muck a stall or ride a horse bareback.

  “…those kids that they have nothing to be scared of—what?”

  Jed smiled at him. “I will do it,” he said, reaching for the coffee pot. “If it will please you.”

  Gideon smiled but only for a second. “It—it ain’t about pleasing me, even though it would,” he said slowly, trying to think this through. “I would like for you to do this with me. But… I….” He stopped, looking at Jed, seeing the way he looked back, his eyes bright, his expression curious and open, his body relaxed and friendly. “When we did shows in smaller towns, where the people had never seen an Injun, they always started off distrusting and, well, scared maybe. People fear what they don’t know, Jed, you know that.” Jed nodded, not arguing. “But after we’d do a show, the first people who’d get questions from the crowd were the Injuns. We always joked about whether we should just do away with Mama’s show all together and get the Injuns to take off their clothes,” he laughed, and Jed shook his head, but he was smiling.

  “You want me to do my ‘tricks’, as you call them, for these people. For money.” He shook his head, and Gideon reached out, catching his chin.

  “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 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.

  * * *

  “Hate leaving this place,” Gideon said two days later as he tied off his bedroll to the back of the saddle.

  Jed sighed. “No hurry,” he said quietly. “Clement said he’d pay us to work.” He was staring toward the river, toward the place where they’d planted the tree. It was close enough to get water, but it wouldn’t wash away or drown in the spring thaw. Jed had left most of the decorations on it--honoring all their gods. In the early morning sun, the ribbons were bright as spring birds, their colors shining in the clear light.

  It was a temptation. Gideon liked it here, liked this place, liked Clement, and thought he could like most of the people who lived here. Certainly he liked what he and Jed had shared here. What they had become.

  But he knew that this contentedness would travel with them; it was part of who and what they, together, were.

  And he had so much more to show Jed, to prove to him. “Might be best to get out before the next storm blows in from the west,” he offered. “We may be back,” he added softly, looking at the tree, at the bright-colored bandanna that told him of Jed’s love. “But I want to show you more, Jed. I want to find a place for us where you don’t have to be afraid. And I don’t have to be afraid for us.”

  Jed didn’t say anything, but after a few seconds he kicked his horse forward. As Gideon set out behind him, he felt the soft chants of the song and sang along, welcoming in the future and a new day. Together.

  Got Mistletoe Madness?

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

  About the Authors

  Margaret Mills 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.

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

  Tedi Ward has been a technical writer in the legal and academic fields for many years. She lives in Georgia and enjoys reading, walking her dog, and writing with her co-author, Margaret Mills. Tedi met Maggie in a writers’ group, and their personalities mix almost as well as their characters’ do; they enjoy writing the kinds of stories they love to read.

  When time permits, Tedi enjoys hiking, cooking, and reading, using her commute to and from work to listen to audio books or the news if she’s feeling particularly mellow about the state of the world.

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

  Copyright

  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