Gerard wasn't weak-willed, and he refused to give in to the desolation that filled him every time he thought of that horrible day. During the days he prodded, cajoled and enticed his students toward knowledge; at night he watched Lucas devour the facts he spread before him. His thirst for knowledge was insatiable, and he not only caught up with the students in his regular classes, he passed them.

Gerard had written his letters to the Wyoming members of Congress, and had also written to a friend for all the information he could find on the Air Force Academy. When the package came, he gave it to Lucas and watched his eyes take on that fiercely intent, enthralled look he got whenever he thought of flying. Working with Lucas was a joy; Gerard's only problem was that he reminded him so strongly of his father.

It wasn't that he missed Frank; how could he miss someone he had seen only twice? Frank hadn't imbedded himself in his daily routine so that his life seemed empty without him. But while he had been with him, he had felt more vividly alive than he ever had before. With Frank, he hadn't been Gerard Way, old maid, he had been Gerard Way, man. Frank's intense masculinity had reached parts of him that he hadn't known existed, bringing to life dormant yearnings and emotions. He argued with himself that what he felt was plain old garden-variety lust, but that didn't stop the ache he felt whenever he thought of him. Even worse was his humiliation because his inexperience had been so obvious, and now he knew Frank thought of him as a sex-starved old maid.

It was April before the inevitable happened and word got out that Lucas Iero was spending a lot of time at the new teacher's house. At first Gerard wasn't aware of the rumour flying through the town, though the kids in his classes had been watching him strangely, and there had been a lot of whispering. Sharon Wycliffe and Dottie Lancaster, the other two teachers, also took to giving him odd looks and whispering to each other. It didn't take Gerard long to decide that the secret was no longer secret, but he went about his business with a serene smile. He had already received a favourable letter from a senator, signalling his interest in Lucas, and despite his own arguments for caution, his spirits were high.

The school board's regular meeting was scheduled for the third week in April. The afternoon of the meeting, Sharon, with elaborate casualness, asked Gerard if he planned to attend. Gerard looked at her in surprise.

"Of course. I thought all of us were expected to attend on a regular basis."

"Well, yes. It's just that—I thought—"

"You thought I would avoid the meeting now that everyone knows I've been teaching Lucas Iero?"

Gerard asked directly.
Sharon's mouth fell open.

"What?"

Her voice was weak.

"You didn't know? Well, it isn't an earth-shattering secret."

He shrugged.

"Lucas thought people would be upset if I tutored him, so I haven't said anything. From the way everyone has been acting, I thought the cat was out of the bag."

"I think it was the wrong cat."

Sharon admitted sheepishly.

"His truck was seen at your house at night and people—um—got the wrong idea."

Gerard felt blank.

"What wrong idea?"

"Well, he's big for his age and all."

Still Gerard didn't understand, until Sharon blushed hotly. Then comprehension burst on his brain like a flash, and horror filled him, followed swiftly by anger.

"They think I'm having an affair with a sixteen-year-old.. boy?"

His voice rose with each word.

"It was late at night when his truck was seen."

Sharon added, looking miserable.

"Lucas leaves promptly at nine o'clock. Someone's idea of 'late' differs from mine."

Gerard stood and began shoving papers into his tote, his nostrils flaring, his cheeks white. The awful thing was that he had to simmer until seven o'clock that night, but he didn't think waiting would cool his temper. If anything, pressure would build. He felt savage, not only because his reputation had been impugned, but because Lucas had also been attacked. He was trying desperately to make his dreams come true, and people were trying to tear him down. Gerard wasn't a hen fussing with one chick; he was a tiger with one cub, and that cub had been threatened. It didn't matter that the cub was seven inches taller than him and outweighed him by almost eighty pounds; Lucas, for all his unusual maturity, was still young and vulnerable. The father had disdained his protection, but there was no power on earth that could stop him from defending the son.

Evidently word had spread, because the school board meeting was unusually crowded that night. There were six members of the board: Mr. Hearst, who owned the general store; Francie Beecham, an eighty-one-year-old former teacher; Walton Isby, the bank president; Harlon Keschel, who owned the combination drugstore/hamburger joint; Eli Baugh, a local rancher whose daughter, Jackie, was in Gerard's class; and Cicely Karr, who owned the service station. All of the board members were solid members of the small community, all of them property owners, and all of them except Francie Beecham had stony faces.

The board meeting was held in Dottie's classroom, and extra desks were brought from Gerard's classroom so there would be enough seats for everyone, an indication of how many people felt it necessary to attend. Gerard was certain that at least one parent of each of his students was present. As He entered the room, every eye turned toward him. The women looked indignant; the men looked both hostile and speculative, and that made Gerard even angrier. What right did they have to look down on him for his supposed sins, while at the same time they were wondering about the details?

Leaning against the wall was a tall man in a khaki deputy sheriff's uniform, watching him with narrowed eyes, and he wondered if they meant to have him arrested for sexual misconduct. It was ridiculous! If he had looked anything other than exactly what he was, a slight, mousy old maid, their suspicions would at least have made more sense. Gerard poked an errant strand of hair back into his ever present hat, sat down and folded his arms, intending to let them make the first move.

Walton Isby cleared his throat and called the meeting to order, no doubt feeling the importance of his position with so many people present to watch the proceedings. Gerard drummed his fingers on his arm. The board went through the routine of its normal business, and suddenly he decided he wasn't going to wait. The best defence, he'd read, was an attack.

When the normal business was finished, Mr. Isby cleared his throat again, and Gerard took it as a signal that they were about to get down to the real purpose of the meeting. He rose to his feet and said clearly..

"Mr. Isby, before you continue, I have an announcement to make."

He looked startled, and his florid face turned even redder.

"This is—uh, well, irregular, Mr. Way."

"It's also important."

Gerard kept his voice at the level he used when lecturing and turned so he could see the entire room. The deputy straightened from his position against the wall as everyone's attention locked on Gerard like a magnet to a steel bar.

"I'm certified to tutor pupils privately, and the credits they earn in private lessons are as legitimate as those earned in a public classroom. For the past month, I've been tutoring Lucas Iero in my home—"

"I'll just bet you have."

Someone muttered, and Gerard's eyes flashed.

"Who said that?"

He demanded crisply.

"It was incredibly vulgar."

The room fell silent.

"When I saw Lucas Iero's school records, I was outraged that a student of his intelligence had quit school. Perhaps none of you know it, but he was at the top of his class. I contacted him and persuaded him to take lessons to catch up to his classmates, and in one month he has not only caught them, he has surpassed them. I have also been in contact with Senator Allard, who has expressed an interest in Lucas. Lucas' strong academic standing has made him a candidate for recommendation to the Air Force Academy. He's an honour to the community, and I know all of you will give him your support."

Gerard was gratified to see the stunned looks in the room and sat down with the cool poise his Grandma had tirelessly drummed into him. Only rabble got into brawls, Grandma had said; a gentleman could make his point in other ways.

Whispers rustled through the room as people put their heads together, and Mr. Isby shuffled the three sheets of paper in front of him as he searched for something to say. The other members of the board put their heads together, too.

Gerard looked around the room, and a shadow in the hall beyond the open door caught his attention. It was only a slight movement; if he hadn't looked at precisely that second, he would have missed it. As it was, it took him a moment to make out the outline of a man, and his skin tingled. Frank. He was out in the hall, listening. It was the first time Gerard had seen him since the day he'd come to his house, and even though all he could see was a darker outline against the shadows, his heart began to pound.

Mr. Isby cleared his throat, and the murmuring in the room settled down.

"That is good news, Mr. Way."

He began.

"However, we don't think you've given the best appearance as an example to our young people—"

"Speak for yourself, Walton."

Francie Beecham said testily, her voice cracking with old age. Gerard stood again.

"In precisely what way have I given the wrong appearance?"

"It doesn't look right to have that boy in your house all hours of the night!"

Mr. Hearst snapped.

"Lucas leaves my home at exactly nine o'clock, after three hours of lessons. What is your definition of 'all hours of the night'? However, if the board doesn't approve of the location, I take it all are agreed that the schoolhouse will be used for night classes? I have no objection to moving the lessons here."

Mr. Isby, who was at heart a good-natured soul, looked harassed. The board members put their heads together again.
After a minute of heated consultation, they looked up again. Harlon Keschel wiped his perspiring face with a handkerchief. Francie Beecham looked outraged. This time it was Cicely Karr who spoke.

"Mr. Way, this is a difficult situation. The odds against Lucas Iero being accepted into the Air Force Academy are high, I'm sure you'll admit, and the truth is that we don't approve of your spending so much time alone with him."

Gerard's chin lifted.

"Why is that?"

"Because you're a newcomer to this area, I'm sure you don't understand the way things are around here. The Ieros have a bad reputation, and we fear for your safety if you continue to associate with the boy."

"Mrs. Karr, that's hogwash."

Gerard replied with inelegant candour. Grandma wouldn't have approved. He thought of Frank standing out in the hallway listening to these people slandering both him and his son, and he could almost feel the heat of his temper. Frank wouldn't let it hurt him, but it hurt him to know he was hearing it.

"Frank Iero helped me out of a dangerous situation when my car broke down and I was stranded in the snow. He was kind and considerate, and refused payment for repairing my car. Lucas Iero is an outstanding student who works hard on their ranch, doesn't drink or carouse—"

He hoped that was true.

"—and has never been anything but respectful. I consider both of them my friends."

In the hallway, the man standing in the shadows knotted his fists. Damn the little fool, didn't he know this would probably cost him his job? Frank knew that if he stepped into that room all the hostility would instantly be focused on him, and he started to move, to draw their attention away from Gerard, when he heard him speaking again. Didn't he know when to shut up?

"I would be as concerned if any of your children dropped out of school. I can't bear to see a young person give up on the future. Ladies and gentlemen, I was hired to teach. I intend to do that to the best of my ability. All of you are good people. Would any of you want me to give up if it were your child?"

Several people looked away and cleared their throats. Cicely Karr merely raised her chin.

"You're sidestepping the point, Mr. Way. This isn't one of our children. This is Lucas Iero. He's... he's—"

"Half Indian?"

Gerard supplied, lifting his brow in question.

"Well, yes. That's part of it. The other part is his father—"

"What about his father?"

Frank had to stifle a curse, and he started to step forward again when Gerard asked scornfully..

"Are you concerned because of his prison sentence?"

"That's cause enough, I should think!"

"Should you? Why?"

"Cicely, sit down and hush."

Francie Beecham snapped.

"The boy has a point, and I agree. If you start trying to think at this stage of your life, it could bring on hot flashes."

Just for a moment there was stunned silence in the room; then it exploded in thunderous laughter. Rough ranchers and their hard-working wives held their stomachs as they bent double, tears running down their faces. Mr. Isby turned so red his face was almost purple; then he burst into a great whooping laugh that sounded like a hysterical crane laying eggs, or so Cicely Karr told him. Her face was red, too, from anger. Big Eli Baugh actually rolled out of his chair, he was laughing so hard. Cicely grabbed his hat from the back of his chair and hit him over the head with it. He continued to howl with laughter as he protected his head with his arms.

"You can buy your motor oil from some other place from now on!"

Cicely roared at Mr. Baugh, continuing to bash him with his hat.

"And your gas! Don't you or any of your hands set foot on my property again!"

"Now, Cicely."

Eli choked as he tried to dodge his hat.

"Folks, let's have some order in here."

Harlon Keschel pleaded, though he looked as if he were enjoying the spectacle of Cicely bashing Eli with his own hat. Certainly everyone else in the room was. Almost everyone, Gerard thought, as he spotted Dottie Lancaster's cold face. Suddenly he realised that the other teacher would have been glad to see him fired, and he wondered why. He'd always tried to be friendly with Dottie, but the older woman had rebuffed all overtures. Had Dottie seen Lucas' truck at Gerard's house and started the gossip? Would Dottie have been out driving around at night? There were no other houses on Gerard's road, so no one would have been driving past to visit a neighbour.

The uproar had died down, though there was still an occasional chuckle heard around the room. Mrs. Karr continued to glare at Eli Baugh, having for some reason made him the focal point of her embarrassed anger rather than turning it on Francie Beecham, who had started it all.
Even Mr. Isby was still grinning as he raised his voice.

"Let's see if we can get back to business here, folks."

Francie Beecham piped up again.

"I think we've handled enough business for the night. Mr. Way is giving the Iero boy private school lessons so he can go to the Air Force Academy, and that's that. I'd do the same thing if I were still teaching."

Mr. Hearst said..

"It still don't look right—"

"Then he can use the classroom. Everyone agreed?"

Francie looked at the other board members, her wrinkled face triumphant. She winked at Gerard.

"It's okay by me."

Eli Baugh said as he tried to reshape his hat.

"The Air Force Academy—well, that's something. I don't reckon anyone from this county has ever been to any of the academies."

Mr. Hearst and Mrs. Karr disagreed, but Mr. Isby and Harlon Keschel sided with Francie and Eli. Gerard stared hard at the shadowed hallway, but couldn't see anything now. Had he left? The deputy turned his head to see what he was looking at, but he didn't see anything, either, because he gave a slight shrug and looked back at Gerard, then winked. Gerard was startled. More people had winked at him that night than in the rest of his life total. What was the proper way to handle a wink? Were they ignored? Should he wink back? Grandma's lectures on proper behaviour hadn't covered winking.

The meeting broke up with a good deal of teasing and laughter, and more than a few of the parents took a moment to shake Gerard's hand and tell him he was doing a good job. It was half an hour before he was able to get his coat and make it to the door, and when he did, he found the deputy waiting for him.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He said in an easy tone.

"I'm Clay Armstrong, the local deputy."

"How do you do? Gerard Way."

He replied, holding out his hand.
Clay took it, and Gerard's small hand disappeared in his big one. He set his hat on top of dark brown curly hair, but his blue eyes still twinkled, even in the shadow of the brim. Gerard liked him on sight. He was one of those strong, quiet men who were rock steady, but who had a good sense of humour. He'd been delighted by the uproar.

"Everyone in town knows who you are. We don't often have a stranger move in, especially a young single man from the South. The first day you were here, the whole county heard about your accent. Haven't you noticed that all the girls in school are trying to drawl?"

"Are they?"

Gerard asked in surprise.

"They sure are."

Clay slowed his walk to keep pace with him as they walked to his car. The cold air rushed at him, chilling him, but the night sky was crystal clear, and a thousand stars winked overhead in compensation.
They reached his car.

"Would you tell me something, Mr. Armstrong?"

"Anything. And call me Clay."

"Why did Mrs. Karr get so angry at Mr. Baugh, instead of at Miss Beecham? It was Miss Beecham who started the whole thing."

"Cicely and Eli are first cousins. Cicely's folks died when she was young, and Eli's parents took her to raise. Well, Cicely and Eli are the same age, so they grew up together and fought like wildcats the whole time. Still do, I guess, but some families are like that. They're still pretty close."

That kind of family was strange to Gerard, but it sounded warm and secure, too, to be able to fight with someone and know he still loved you.

"So she hit him for laughing at her?"

"And because he was convenient. No one is going to get too angry with Miss Beecham. She taught all the adults in this county, and we all still think a lot of that old lady."

"That sounds so nice."

Gerard said, smiling.

"I hope I'm still here when I'm that old."

"Are you planning to raise Cain at school board meetings, too?"

"I hope so."

He repeated.
Clay leaned down to open the car door for Gerard.

"I hope so, too. Be careful driving home."

After he got in, Clay closed the door and touched his fingers to his hat brim, then strode away.
He was a nice man. Most of the people in Ruth were nice. They were blind where Frank Iero was concerned, but basically they weren't vicious people.
Frank. Where had he gone?

Gerard hoped Lucas wouldn't decide to stop his lessons because of this. Though he knew it was foolish to count his chickens prematurely, he felt a growing certainty that Lucas would be accepted into the Academy and was inordinately proud that he could be part of getting him there. Grandma would have said that pride goeth before a fall, but Gerard had often thought that a person would never fall if he didn't first try to stand. On more than one occasion he had countered Grandma's cliché of choice with his own "nothing ventured, nothing gained." It had always made Grandma huffy when her favourite weapon was turned against her. Gerard sighed. He missed his acerbic Grandma so much. His supply of clichés might wither from lack of use without Grandma to sharpen his wits against.

When he turned into his driveway, he was tired, hungry and anxious, afraid that Lucas would try to be noble and stop his lessons so Gerard wouldn't have any more trouble because of him.

"I'll teach him."

He muttered aloud as he stepped out of the car.

"If I have to follow him around on horseback."

"Who are you following around?"

Frank demanded irritably, and Gerard jumped so violently that he banged his knee against the car door.

"Where did you come from?"

He demanded just as irritably.

"Darn it, you scared me!"

"Probably not enough. I parked in the barn, out of sight."

Gerard stared up at him, drinking in the sight of his proud, chiselled face and closed expression. The starlight was colourless, revealing his features in stark angles and shadows, but it was enough for him. He hadn't realized how starved he had been for the sight of Frank, the heart-pounding nearness of him. Gerard couldn't even feel the cold now, the way blood was racing through his veins. This was probably what "being in heat" meant. It was breathtaking and a little scary, but he decided he liked it.

"Let's go in."

Frank said when Gerard made no effort to move, and Gerard silently led the way to the back door. He'd left it unlocked so he wouldn't have to fumble with a key in the dark, and Frank's black brows drew together when he turned the knob and pushed the door open.
They entered, and Gerard closed the door behind them, then turned on the light. Frank stared down at him, at the silky blonde hair escaping from his hat, and he had to clench his fists to keep from grabbing him.

"Don't leave your door unlocked again."

He ordered.

"I don't think I'll be burgled."

Gerard countered, then admitted honestly..

"I don't have anything a self-respecting burglar would want."

He'd sworn he wouldn't touch the slight teacher, but even though he'd known it would be difficult to keep his hands to himself, he hadn't realized quite how difficult. He wanted to grab Gerard and shake some sense into him, but he knew if he touched him in any way at all, he wouldn't want to stop. Gerard's slightly feminine scent teased his nostrils, beckoning him closer; he smelled warm and delicately fragrant, it made his entire body ache with longing. Frank moved away from him, knowing it was safer for them both if he put some distance between them.

"I wasn't thinking about a burglar."

"No?"

Gerard considered that, then realised what he'd meant and what he'd said in response. He cleared his throat and marched to the stove, hoping Frank wouldn't see his red face.

"If I make a pot of coffee, will you drink a cup this time or storm out like you did before as soon as it's made?"

The tart reproach in his voice amused Frank, and he wondered how he had ever thought him mousy. His clothes were dowdy, but his personality was anything but timid. Gerard said exactly what he thought and didn't hesitate to take someone to task. Less than an hour before he had taken on the entire county on his behalf. The memory of it sobered him.

"I'll drink the coffee if you insist on making it, but I'd rather you just sat down and listened to me."

Turning, Gerard slid into a chair and primly folded his hands on the table.

"I'm listening."

Frank pulled the chair next to him away from the table and turned it to the side, facing him, before he sat down. Gerard turned an unsmiling gaze on him.

"I saw you in the hall tonight."

Frank looked grim.

"Damn. Did anyone else notice me?"

He wondered how he had seen him, because he'd been very careful, and he was good at not being seen when he didn't want to be.

"I don't think so."

He paused.

"I'm sorry they said those things."

"I'm not worried about what the good people of Ruth think about me."

He said in a hard tone.

"I can handle them, and so can Lucas. We don't depend on them for our living, but you do. Don't go to bat for us again, unless you don't like your job very much and you're trying to lose it, because that's damn sure what will happen if you keep on."

"I won't lose my job for teaching Lucas."

"Maybe not. Maybe they'll have some tolerance for Lucas, especially since you threw the Academy at them, but I'm another story."

"Nor will I lose my job for being friendly with you. I have a contract."

He explained serenely.

"An ironclad contract. It isn't easy to get a teacher in a place as small and isolated as Ruth, especially in the middle of winter. I can lose my job only if I'm judged incompetent, or break the law, and I defy anyone to prove me incompetent."

Frank wondered if that meant he didn't rule out breaking the law, but didn't ask him. The kitchen light was shining directly down on Gerard's head, turning his hair to a silvery halo as he removed his hat and placed it on the table, and distracting Frank with its glitter. He knew Gerard's hair was blonde, but it was such a pale, ash blonde that it had no red tones, and when light struck it the strands actually looked silver. Gerard looked like an angel, with his soft hazel eyes and translucent skin, and his silky hair curling around his face. Frank's insides knotted painfully. He wanted to touch him. He wanted Gerard naked beneath him. He wanted to be inside him, to gently ride him until he was all soft and wet, and his nails were clawing at his back—

Gerard reached out and put his slim hand on Frank's much larger one, and just that small touch burned him.

"Tell me what happened."

Gerard invited softly.

"Why were you sent to prison? I know you didn't do it."

Frank was a hard man, by nature as well as necessity, but Gerard's simple, unquestioning faith in him shook him to the bone. He had always stood alone, isolated by his Indian blood from Anglos and by his Anglo blood from Indians. Not even his parents had been close to him, though they had loved him and he had loved them in return. They had simply never truly known him, never been admitted into his private thoughts. Nor had he been close to his wife, Lucas' mother. They had slept together, he'd been fond of her, but she, too, had been kept at a distance. Only with Lucas had his reserve been breached, and Lucas knew him as no other person on earth did. They were part of each other, and he fiercely loved the boy. Only the thought of Lucas had gotten him through the years in prison alive.

It was more than alarming that this slight Anglo teacher had a knack for touching nerves he'd thought completely insulated; he didn't want Gerard close to him, not in any emotional way. He wanted to have sex with him, but he didn't want Gerard to matter to him. Angrily he realised that he already mattered to him, and he didn't like it at all.

Frank stared at Gerard's fragile hand on his, his touch light and soft. He didn't shrink from touching him, as if he were dirty; nor was he grasping at him as some men did, rapaciously, wanting to use him, to see if the savage could satisfy their shallow, greedy appetites. Gerard had simply reached out to touch him because he cared.

Ever so slowly Frank watched his hand turn and engulf Gerard's, enfolding the pale, slim fingers within his callused palm as if to protect them.

"It was nine years ago."

His voice was low, harsh; Gerard had to lean forward to hear him.

"No—almost ten years. Ten years this June. Lucas and I had just moved here. I was working for the Half Moon Ranch. A girl from the next county was raped and killed, and her body dumped just within the far boundary of Half Moon. I was picked up and questioned, but hell, I'd been expecting it from the minute I heard about the girl. I was new to the area, and Indian. But there was no evidence against me, so they had to let me go.

Three weeks later, a boy was raped. This time he was from the Rocking L Ranch, just to the west of town. He was stabbed, like the girl, but he lived. He'd seen the rapist."

Frank paused for a minute, the expression in his black eyes shuttered as he looked back at those long-ago years.

"He said he looked like an Indian. He was dark, with black hair. Not many Indians around. I was picked up again before I even knew another person had been raped. They put me in a lineup with six dark-haired Anglos. The boy identified me, and I was charged. Lucas and I lived on Half Moon, but somehow no one remembered seeing me at home the night that boy was raped, except Lucas, and a six-year-old Indian kid's word didn't carry much weight."

Gerard's chest hurt when he thought of how it had been for him, and for Lucas, who had been only a small child. How much worse had it been for Frank because of Lucas, worrying what would happen to his son? Gerard didn't know of anything he could say now to lessen that ten-year-old outrage, so he didn't try; he just tightened his fingers around Frank's, letting him know he wasn't alone.

"I was put on trial and found guilty. I'm lucky they weren't able to tie me to the first rape, the girl who'd been murdered, or I'd have been lynched. As it was, everyone thought I'd done it."

"You went to prison."

It was so hard to believe, even though Gerard knew it was true.

"What happened to Lucas?"

"He was made a ward of the state. I survived prison. It wasn't easy. A rapist is considered fair game. I had to be the roughest son of a bitch in there just to live from one night to the next."

Gerard had heard tales about what happened to men in prison, and his pain increased. He had been locked up, away from the sun and the mountains, the clear fresh air, and he knew it had been like caging a wild animal. Frank was innocent, but his freedom and his son had been taken from him, and he'd been thrown in with the dregs of humanity. Had he slept soundly even once the entire time he'd been in prison, or had he merely dozed, his senses attuned to attack?
Gerard's throat was tight and dry. All he could manage was a whisper.

"How long were you in?"

"Two years."

His face was hard, his eyes full of menace as he stared at him, but Gerard knew the menace was directed inward, at his bitter memories.

"Then a series of rapes and murders from Casper to Cheyenne were tied together and the guy was caught. He confessed, seemed proud of his accomplishments, but a little put out that they hadn't given him complete credit. He admitted to the two rapes in this area, and gave them details no one but the rapist could have known."

"Was he Indian?"

Frank's smile was flinty.

"Mexican. Dark-skinned, curly haired."

"So you were released?"

"Yeah. My name was cleared, and they said 'Sorry about that,' and turned me loose. I'd lost my son, my job, everything I'd owned. I found out where they'd put Lucas and hitched there to get him. Then I rodeoed for a while to get some money and lucked out. I did pretty well. I won enough to come back here with something in my pocket. The old guy who had owned Half Moon had died with no heirs, and the land was about to be sold for taxes. It wiped me out, but I bought the land. Lucas and I settled here, and I began training horses and building up the ranch."

"Why did you come back?"

Gerard couldn't understand it. Why return to the place where he'd been so mistreated?

"Because I was tired of always moving on, never having a place of my own. Damn tired of being looked down on as a trashy, shiftless Indian. Tired of my son not having a home. And because there was no way in hell I was going to let the bastards get the best of me."

The aching in Gerard's chest intensified. He wished he could ease the anger and bitterness in him, wished he dared take him in his arms and soothe him, wished he could become a part of the community instead of a thorn in its side.

"They're not all illegitimate."

He said, and wondered why Frank's mouth suddenly twitched as if he might smile.

"Any more than all Indians are trashy or shiftless. People are just people, good and bad."

"You need a keeper."

Frank replied.

"That Pollyanna attitude is going to get you in trouble. Teach Lucas, do what you can for him, but stay the hell away from me, for your own sake. These people didn't change their minds about me just because I was released."

"You haven't tried to change their minds. You've just kept rubbing their noses in their guilt."

Gerard pointed out, his tone acerbic.

"Am I supposed to forget what they did?"

He asked just as sharply.

"Forget that their 'justice' consisted of putting me in a lineup with six Anglos and telling that boy to 'pick out the Indian'? I spent two years in hell. I still don't know what happened to Lucas, but it was almost three months after I got him back before he spoke a word. Forget that? Like hell."

"So, they won't change their minds, you won't change your mind, and I won't change mine. I believe we have a stalemate."

Frank's dark eyes burned with frustration as he glared at him, and suddenly he seemed to realise he was still holding Gerard's hand. He released him abruptly and stood.

"Look, you can't be my friend.We can't be friends."

Now that his hand was free, Gerard felt abandoned and cold. He clasped his hands in his lap and looked up at him.

"Why? Of course, if you simply don't like me..."

His voice trailed off, and he bent his head to examine his hands as if he'd never seen them before.

Not like him? He couldn't sleep, his temper was frayed, he got hard whenever he thought about him, and he thought about him too damn much. Frank was so physically frustrated that he thought he might go mad, but he couldn't even ease himself with David Costas or any other man now, because all he could think about was baby-fine blonde hair, clear hazel eyes and skin like translucent rose petals. It was all he could do to keep from taking him, and only the knowledge of how the good townspeople of Ruth would turn on Gerard if he made him his, kept him from grabbing him. Gerard's stubborn principles hadn't prepared him for the pain and trouble he would face.

Suddenly Frank's frustration boiled over, and he was filled with rage at having to walk away from the one man he wanted to the point of madness. Before he could stop himself, he reached down and grasped his wrists, hauling him to his feet.

"No, damn it, we can't be friends! Do you want to know why? Because I can't be around you without thinking of stripping you naked and taking you, wherever we happen to be. Hell, I don't know if I'd take the time to strip you! I want your nipples in my mouth. I want your legs around my waist, or your ankles on my shoulders, or any position at all if I can just get inside you."

He'd pulled Gerard so close that his warm breath brushed the startled man's cheeks as he rasped the low, harsh words at him.

"So, sweetheart, there's no way we can be friends."

Gerard shivered as his body responded to Frank's words. Though they'd been spoken in anger, they told him that Frank felt the same way he did, and described actions he could only half imagine. Gerard was too inexperienced and honest to hide his feelings from Frank, so he didn't even try. His eyes were filled with painful longing.

"Frank?"

Just that, but the way he said his name, with an aching little inflection at the end, made Frank's grip on his wrists tighten.

"No."

"I—I want you."

His whispered, trembly confession left him completely vulnerable to him, and Frank knew it. He groaned inwardly. Damn it, didn't he have any sense of self-protection at all? Didn't he know what it did to a man to have the person he wanted offer themself like that, with no qualifications or holding back? His control was stretched hair-thin, but he grimly held on to it because the hard truth was that Gerard truly didn't know. He was a virgin. He was old-fashioned, strictly raised, and had only the vaguest idea of what he was inviting.

"Don't say that."

He finally muttered.

"I've told you before—"

"I know."

Gerard interrupted.

"I'm too inexperienced to be interesting, and you... you don't want to be used as a guinea pig. I remember."

He seldom cried, but he felt the salty wetness burning his eyes, and Frank winced at the hurt he saw there.

"I lied. God, how I lied."

Then his control broke. He had to hold him, feel him in his arms just for a little while, have his taste on his mouth again. He drew Gerard's wrists up and placed his hands around his neck, then bent his head even as he locked his arms around him and drew him up tight against him. Frank's mouth covered Gerard's and his eager response seared him. Gerard knew what to do now; his lips parted, allowing Frank's tongue entrance, where he met him with soft, welcoming touches from his own tongue. He had taught him that, just as he'd taught him to melt against him, and the knowledge drove him almost as crazy as the feel of his soft body pressed against his chest.

Gerard drowned in the sheer ecstasy of being in his arms again, and the tears that he'd held back spilled past his lashes. This was too painful, and too wonderful, to be mere lust. If this was love, he didn't know if he could bear it.

Frank's mouth was hungry and hard, taking long, deep kisses that left Gerard clinging to him mindlessly. Frank's hand moved surely up Gerard's stomach, and all he could do was make a soft sound of pleasure low in his throat. His nipples burned and throbbed; his touch both assuaged the pain and intensified it, making him want more. He wanted it the way Frank had described it, with his mouth on his nipples, and he twisted feverishly against him. Gerard was empty and needed to be filled. He needed to be his.

Frank jerked his head up and pressed Gerard's face against his shoulder.

"I have to stop. Now."

He groaned the words. He was shaking, as hot as any teenage stud in the back seat of his daddy's car.
Gerard briefly weighed all of Grandma's strictures against the way he felt and accepted that he was in love, because this mingled glory and torment could be nothing else.

"I don't want to stop."

He said raggedly.

"I want you to love me."

"No. I'm Indian. You're white. The people in this town would destroy you. Tonight was just a taste of what you'd have to go through. It would be worse with us both being men!"

"I'm willing to risk it!"

Gerard cried desperately.

"I'm not. I can take it, but you—you hang on to your Pollyanna principles, sweetheart. I can't offer you anything in return."

If he'd thought there was even a fifty-fifty chance of living here in peace, Frank would have taken the risk, but he knew there wasn't, not the way things were. Other than Lucas, Gerard was the only human being in the world he'd ever wanted to protect, and it was the hardest thing he'd ever done.
Gerard lifted his head from Frank's shoulder, revealing his wet cheeks.

"All I want is you."

"I'm the one thing you can't have. They'd tear you apart."

Very gently, Frank pulled Gerard's arms down and turned to leave.

Gerard's voice came behind him, low and strained as he fought against tears.

"I'll risk it."

Frank stopped, his hand on the doorknob.

"I won't."

For the second time Gerard watched him walk away, and this time was far worse than the first.

Notes

Hi there chipmunks.. What's up?...

So the secret's out!.. Who else thinks this won't be the end of it?..

Please comment, stay safe, and peace out babies!
<3