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The sound of a slamming door awakened Elizabeth from a sleeping- pill-induced sleep. She sat up, and blinked, trying to focus her mind on her surroundings, and the sound of the door slamming. 'Someone was in the apartment!' she concluded, after a dazed moment. 'Surely, someone slammed the door on their way out.' Despite her lethargy, she shuddered. 'If they were on their way out, that means they were here . . . in this room . . . watching me sleep. They could have raped me, or killed me! Maybe . . . one of 'em is still nearby . . . waiting,' she concluded, shaking, as she searched the dark corners of the room, looking for a crouching figure. She fumbled with the pull chain of the lamp on the bedside table, cursing her trembling hand. When she finally managed to switch on the light, she saw the note, sitting next to the bottle of pills she had begun taking a few days earlier to help her sleep. "Are you sure the pills you're taking are sleeping pills?" the note asked, causing her to glance toward the plastic bottle. "Who knows, Liz. The next time you take one, you might not wake up." Her eyes flicked from the bottle of pills on the nightstand, to the note in her hand, to the front door, and she began shaking so badly she dropped the note. A moment later, her cell phone beeped, announcing the arrival of a text message. "You're in our sights. You can't escape." * * * Corey watched his mother, followed by Jonah, the man he loved, disappear into the kitchen. "Corey . . . son . . ." Ben Hatfield began. "May I talk . . . for a bit? I need to explain." "Dad, no. There's no need." Ben Hatfield shook his head, wearing a determined look. "For me, there is. Please." When Corey finally nodded a grim faced acknowledgment, his father began speaking in a low voice. "I should have died . . . that day, instead of your brother." "Dad . . ." Ben made an abrupt motion, asking for indulgence. "Y'see," he continued, "I'd just left the area of the mine . . . where it happened . . . the rockslide, I mean." Corey nodded his understanding, and took his father's hand. "I'd just left that area . . . and had told . . ." he swallowed . . . "Jacob . . . to oversee the next bit of excavation. Y'see, I'd been training him to be a day-shift supervisor. He shook my hand, thanking me for the opportunity to demonstrate his skills. I . . . I turned my back and took three steps, when there was a sharp cracking sound." Ben swallowed, reliving the moment. "I turned into a cloud of dust . . . lots'a dust . . . and the sound of your brother's scream, as a support gave way and the ceiling, right above him, collapsed. 'DAD! HELP!' "It only took a second. The area right over Jacob was the only bit of the tunnel to collapse. No one else was hurt . . . only Jacob. Some other guys were trapped, but got out, after a bit of digging. I couldn't help him, Corey. I couldn't do anything for my son. Other men's sons had been killed in the mine before, and I'd always felt bad, goin' to the young man's funeral, n'all, but now it was my turn to suffer a loss. "It shouldn't have happened. I should'a been able to do something. I should'a been able t'help m'boy. "I scrambled, and started tryin' t'move the rocks. There weren't that many. They were't that heavy. I kept thinkin' maybe Jacob could'a made it. I was cryin', calling Jacob's name, over n'over, as I tossed rocks aside; but . . . but . . . when the rocks I was holdin' began t'be covered with blood . . . I knew. Jacob was gone, and it should'a been me. I was old. Your brother was young. He deserved t'live . . . I didn't. I couldn't even protect my own boy." "Dad," Corey murmured, squeezing his father's hand. "I stopped thinking, Corey. On that day, I stopped thinking. I wanted to stop living . . . but, I . . . I was a coward, and couldn't kill myself. Besides . . . me dyin' wouldn't have brought your brother back. So . . . I stopped thinking. I stopped carin' 'bout anything . . . everyone. Every time I let myself think, all I could hear was your brother's cry for help. I could smell the dust, just like when it happened. Whenever I looked at my hands, I saw his blood. I could taste my own tears, hear my own voice cryin' out his name, over n'over, until someone hauled me away, and I was so hoarse I couldn't talk.. They wouldn't let me see him, y'know. Told me it was better f'me to remember him as he was. But . . . all I could remember was his firm handshake, thanking me; then, less than a minute later, him callin' out f'me t'help him. "That's when I started ignoring you, Corey. I didn't realize what I was doing. All I knew was that if I continued lovin' you, something would happen, and you'd be dead, too. Maybe I could cheat fate and be killed, instead a'you. I wasn't thinkin' straight, and I pulled your mama down with me. "All she did was cry. Y'see, she not only lost a son, she was afraid she'd lose me, too. Deep down, we must have known you were hurting." Ben shook his head. "I don't know what I was feeling. All I do know is that me behaving so badly caused both your mama and me not to see how bad you were hurting. I mean . . . you'd lost a brother, and now . . . both parents. "It took years for me to finally come to grips with Jacob's death, and when I did, I realized what your mama and I had done to you. Truly, Corey, that realization was worse than hearing Jacob's death cries, knowing I couldn't reach him in time. You were gone, by then; takin' your hurts with you, and you'd suffered those years in silence, and I'd never realized you were silently cryin' for help. We asked around . . . we asked everyone, but no one knew, or were willing to tell us if they knew, where you were. People knew what we'd done to you. I don't blame 'em for keeping quiet . . . even if they did know something. "I was angry at everyone, but mostly I was angry at myself. It was just like Jacob all over again. I was responsible for Jacob's death; now I had run you off, and I didn't know where you were, so I could try'n figure out a way to apologize for how much I'd hurt you." Ben leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, covered his face with his hands, and silently began to cry. "Dad, don't do that. Don't torture yourself," Corey said, leaving Houdini, and kneeling at his father's side. He wrapped an around over his father's shoulders and held tight, while Houdini, sensing the emotions in the room, whined. Ben mutely shook his head. "I'm not torturin' myself, Corey. I am feeling a relief like I can't describe. I've got my son back. He's come back to Wilma and me, 'cause of his good heart . . . and I am so happy." * * * "I will not have it!" Maxine shouted, shaking a finger at Millie, Lucas, and Hank McCorkle. She'd barged into Millie's store, like an angry thunderstorm, intent on unleashing her fury. "There's only room in this town for one store . . . mine. I will not let you open a store. I will not have it!" Maxine turned and stomped away, leaving three open-mouthed people in her wake. "I'll show them," she fumed. 'That store'll open only if I'm dead and in my grave. I've worked too hard to make a go of it, for amateurs to try and show me up. It's all that rich-boy's fault . . . bringing in his money, making everybody 'yes-sir' him, just 'cause he's payin' 'em. It's his fault, and all the others like him,' she thought, as she passed in front of the open door to the library. Owen looked up as she stomped up the stairs and into the library. "We're closing," he said, in a voice devoid of emotion. "Too bad. I haven't finished with you," she said, sniffing and raising her chin, as if daring him to contradict her. "Your little fag-friend isn't here to protect you today." Owen repeated. "I said, we're closing. Please leave." "You shut up!" Maxine hissed, "I have plenty to say." Owen stood. "Too bad. Get out. Now." Both his words and calm reaction to her words caused Maxine to blink. "I am perfectly capable of throwing you out," Owen continued, speaking in a conversational tone. "So, if you don't want that to happen . . . leave." "You haven't heard the last of me, fag-boy," Maxine shouted over her shoulder, as Owen approached. The feeling that she'd lost another battle did nothing to improve her mood. "Ahhh," she said, immediately seeing another target upon which to vent her anger. Young Nicky Saunders was walking toward the library, a book in hand. He smiled and was about to greet her, when she grabbed him. He dropped his library book and shouted in surprise. "Tell me what you and that fag-boy do when you're alone. Tell me!" she shouted, shaking him hard. "Who're you talking about? Let go of me!" Nicky tried to kick her, which caused her to shake him harder. She'd had enough opposition today. She was not going to let a mere child win. "Owen!" Nicky's screams drew the attention, not only of Owen, who burst out of the library, but everyone who heard the young boy's panicked call, and came running. "Let go of him!" Owen hissed, as he grabbed the scarecrow-like woman by the arm. He was barely aware of the townsfolk who had converged on him, or the voice of one the men who was calling Nicky's parents on the phone. Owen lowered his voice, locking eyes with the woman. "If you don't let him go . . . Maxine . . . I . . . will . . . break . . . your . . . arm." When she did nothing, he raised his voice, so the onlookers could hear. "Haven't you ever learned that a person should never harm an animal or a child? It just isn't right." He tightened his grip, his fingers digging into her arm as the muscles of his biceps flexed. Meanwhile, Nicky continued struggling to free himself. "Is that why you got rid of your dog?" Owen asked, once again using a conversational tone of voice. "You beat up on it so often, it started to bite you every time you came home?" The comment drew an uneasy laugh from some of the onlookers, who knew Owen's accusations were most likely close to the truth. "Let go of Nicky, Maxine. Now!" Owen's sharp order caused many of the onlookers to flinch. "I have plenty of experience with being shaken, and if I can help it, no child will ever have to go through what I did. Let go of him!" "Make me," Maxine hissed, trying to bluster her way out of a situation she was losing control of. "You're threatening to hit an old woman, you know." Owen lowered his voice. "I don't intend to hit you. I intend to break your arm." He tightened his grip even further. "Believe me, old woman. If you don't let Nicky go, I will do it. I will not say it again." At that point, both of Nicky's parents pushed their way through the crowd. It didn't take the shouts of those looking on, telling them that Owen was trying to rescue their son from Maxine, for Will and Peggy Saunders to figure out what was going on. Nicky's mother flung herself at the old woman, bashing her in the jaw with her fist. The blow, as well as the unexpected attack, caused Maxine to release the boy, who scrambled away and began crying, as he wrapped his arms around his father, who squatted to hold his son. "Keep holding her, Owen!" Peg shouted, as she slammed a fist into Maxine's stomach. "The police are on their way. You wicked woman," Peggy continued, screaming at the top of her lungs and shaking off her husband's attempt to calm her. "I will see that you rot in hell for touching my boy!" When Maxine spat at her, the townspeople had had enough. They grabbed Maxine, in a none-too-kind grip, which the woman had no hope of breaking, and dragged her away from Owen and the Saunders family. "We'll hold her," one of the burly farmers told Owen and Peg. "You tend to the child." "Owen!" Nicky shouted, as his friend released the old woman. "You came to save me," he whimpered, as Owen knelt to pick him up. "I knew you would," the boy cried, as he held Owen in a tight grip. Owen held the child and let him cry for a few moments, then murmured. "Your mother and father are here, little man. They need to hold you." He dug in his back pocket for his handkerchief and wiped the little boy's face. "They're scared that Maxine might have hurt you. They want to hold their little boy." "But, you're my brother. You saved me." "Nicky," Owen brushed the boy's dark hair away from his forehead. "Look at me," Owen said, in a calm voice. Nicky wiped his eyes, and did as he was told. "I did what I did 'cause I was close-by, and I heard your shouts. Your mama or papa would have done the same thing, if they had heard your shout. So would any of these other people," he added, gesturing to the bystanders. "I just happened to run faster than them. "Your folks love you, Nicky. Let them hold you and tell you what a brave little boy you are." Nicky wiped his eyes with a fist. "Thank you, Owen," he murmured. "Thank you for savin' me." He threw his arms around Owen's neck and kissed him on the cheek, then turned to his father and held out his arms, asking to be held. A moment later, though, Nicky squirmed, his crying forgotten. "She made me drop my book! Where's my book?" He craned his neck to search the ground. "If she stepped on it, I'm gonna be mad." The little boy's mother smiled, and handed him his book to examine, then turned to Owen. "Thank you, from both Will and me, Owen," Peggy said, as she kissed Owen on the cheek. "From the bottom of my heart, thank you for watching out after Nicky." * * * "Lovely woman," Hank McCorkle murmured, breaking the silence caused by Maxine's angry outburst, and subsequent departure. "She's the type of girl who includes ammo on her Christmas list," he concluded, in a dry voice. Millie cast an amused glance at the slender man sitting across from her and blew out a slow stream of breath, clearly troubled by the woman's anger. "I'm sorry to have brought you into this," she said, looking at Hank, who was watching her, wearing a slight smile. "I knew she was a loose cannon, but I didn't expect to feel her anger until the store was finally open. Then . . . I didn't know what to expect." "Oh, she's not so hard to deal with," Hank said, as he toyed with the melted ice cream in the bottom of his dish. "She's just gotten her own way for so long, she thinks it's a right. No one's ever stood up to her f'fear of what she'd do. I'm not scared of her. 'Sides, I've seen better legs on a coffee table." He winked at Millie. "Way too skinny, f'me." Millie turned to Lucas, hoping Hank wouldn't notice her flushed cheeks. "What do you think she'll do? I've never seen her so upset." Lucas shook his head. "I don't have a clue, though I'd hate to be the first person she encounters on her way back to wherever it is she's going." He shook his head. 'Just as long as it's not Owen,' he thought to himself. 'With Bailey and the guys showing up any day, Owen doesn't need to be in one of his funky moods. It's gotten so Sam and I never know what sort of guy we'll face whenever we get up each morning. One minute he's laughing; then, he sees or hears something which makes him think of his childhood, and, wham, we can almost feel his pain. He does his best to cover it up, but it's there.' He frowned. "What's all that noise outside? Sounds like the beginnings of a riot. Do you suppose . . .?" he murmured, as he stood and headed for the shop's open door. 'Owen is like a lightning rod to that old woman. Whatever's going on, I'd bet he's involved.' "Millie," Hank offered the woman a hand. "You never told me Riverton was so full of excitement." "Shhh," she smiled, and patted his hand, as they followed Lucas to the door of her store, where Lucas stood, frozen. "Oh . . . dear," she murmured, as she tried to analyze what was going on. Less than a block away, a crowd of people surrounded Maxine, immobilizing her while Owen stood nearby, and Peggy Saunders and her husband, Will, tended to their crying son. "It looks as if she found someone to terrorize." "A small boy?" Hank asked, his eyes wide. "The woman is truly one can short of a six pack." "I wonder why Owen's out there," Millie murmured, catching Lucas' worried glance. As they watched, the boy held out his arms, asking for Owen to hold him. "The young man certainly seems to be in the center of things," Millie said, as if speaking to herself. "Owen, I mean," she added, when Lucas flicked her a glance. "Whenever he's not laughing, n'stuff . . . y'know . . . I always figure Maxine is at the root of it. Just like his father, she is. That's why he's so intimidated and bothered by her. She pushes all the same buttons ol' Jonathan did. Every time the poor boy sees her, he's seeing his father." "She can push those buttons only if Owen allows it." Whatever else Lucas was about to say was interrupted by a police car, which sped past, then slid to a squealing stop. 'They've seen too many movies,' Lucas thought to himself, as two officers jumped from the car. One secured Maxine, while Peggy Saunders cornered the other, gesturing from the struggling and shouting woman, to her son, then Owen. The officer nodded, as he collected information. In only a few minutes, it was over. The police, with their still-shouting passenger, departed, and the crowd began to disburse. "I wonder why Peg kissed Owen," Millie murmured, as Lucas fidgeted, anxious to find out what had been going on. "I mean, he's handsome as all get-out, n'all, but . . ." "Geez . . . Excuse me, I've got to see if he's okay," Lucas muttered, unaware of Millie's comments. He jogged the short distance to his lover, who had shaken Will Saunders' hand and waved goodbye to Nicky. "Are you okay, Cowboy?" Lucas murmured, as he reached Owen, and rubbed a hand up and down his back. "We only saw the end of whatever happened. You seem sort'a dazed." Owen blinked, then grinned. "Yeah, that's what I am . . . dazed, but I'm also feelin' pretty good." He paused, turning to his partner. "Lucas, when she stomped into the library, I didn't let her run all over me. I held my ground, and didn't lose my temper." He grinned. "I'm proud'a that. I didn't even think about wanting to keep calm. Well . . ." he grinned, "I wasn't calm, but I didn't want to push her up against a wall and beat the living daylights out'a her, either. That's what I've always been afraid I'd do." "That's wonderful!" Lucas pulled Owen close, with an arm around his waist. "I'm so proud of you." Owen boyishly grinned. "What I am is horny. Y'suppose that sort'a thing could make a guy get hard? I'm thinkin' it'd be real nice to go back to the apartment so I could taste your tongue." Lucas laughed. "Is that how you invite all the men you know, out on a date? 'I wanna taste your tongue,'" Lucas repeated, then laughed. "I love it!" "Nope," Owen grinned, as he and Lucas approached Millie and Hank, both of whom were watching in barely controlled anticipation. "Only you n' Sammy. You guys are the only men in my life," Owen murmured. Before Lucas could pursue Owen's comment, and ask about Jonah, Millie stepped in. "Owen! What was going on? Why'd the cops haul ol' Maxine off?" "She was beatin' up on poor little Nicky." At Owen's words, Millie's eyes widened, and she glanced to where a few townsfolk remained, no doubt discussing what had just happened. "A couple minutes earlier, Maxine'd stopped by the library and tried to start an argument with me. I wouldn't let her, and told her to leave. So . . . I guess she was taking out her anger on a child. The boy didn't know what hit him. I heard him shout my name, and I was out of the library in a flash. When I reached them, she was shaking him somethin' fierce." Owen shook his head. I never knew I could run so fast." "So, you were able to stop her?" Lucas asked, continuing to rub a hand up and down Owen's back, drawing a grim smile. "Yeah, I guess. Anyone could have done it, though. I just reached her first. A couple other guys were close behind." "You should also be proud that you prevented ol' Maxine from hurting Nicky," Millie said, unaware of how important the realization, that he hadn't lost his temper, was to Owen. "All children should have someone like you looking out after 'em," Hank added. "The little boy is very lucky." "I stood up to her, Lucas!" Owen said, as if realizing his actions for the first time. "I didn't let her stomp all over me. I didn't get angry! Maybe my nightmares will stop, y'think?" Before Lucas could answer, a car pulled up to the curb across the street, and tooted its horn. Owen turned. Since he was preoccupied, he didn't see Millie's worried expression or Lucas' gesture, telling her he'd explain about Owen's comments, later. "It's Bailey!" Owen shouted, when the driver waved. "The guys are here!" "Millie," Hank murmured, as both Owen and Lucas ran to greet the three occupants of the car. "Are all the young men in this town attracted to other young men?" "No, your boy isn't attracted to any young man, as far as I've heard. He's interested in Owen's sister, Abigail . . . a very nice girl, I might add." She turned to Hank and patted his hand. "Don't you worry about Clyde, Hank; none of these men has eyes for anyone other than one another." "Oh, I'm not worried. Clyde can look out for himself." Hank fidgeted, appearing flustered. "I just haven't had too much experience with . . . you know . . ." "You can say the word, Hank. They're gay. They love one another, and they're also wonderful young men." "Okay, okay," Hank laughed. "I'm sure they are! Don't get your feathers ruffled. Just 'cause I haven't had much experience with . . . um . . . gay guys, doesn't mean I have problems with 'em." Millie grinned. "I'm glad, 'cause I'd hate to think such a great guy as yourself would believe there's only one sort'a love in the world." * * * Corey and his father hugged one another. "Aw geez, I don't think I'll ever get enough of that," he murmured, before embracing his mother and kissing her on the cheek. Finally, he knelt at Houdini's side and wrapped his arms around his dog's neck. "I'm only going away for a little bit, Houdini. I'll be back to see you in the morning, okay?" he asked, ruffling the dog's coat, as the big animal nudged Corey with its head, causing him to laugh. "Yes . . . I promise." He kissed the animal's fur, then stood, seemingly reluctant to leave his dog. He and Jonah had spent the entire day at the Hatfield home, and, most of the time, Corey had spent sitting on the floor with his dog at his side. The day had been filled with laughter, and a few tears, but everyone seemed to be on the way to establishing a new relationship. "We'll be back tomorrow, Wilma," Jonah said, using Corey's mother's first name, at her insistence. "We wouldn't want to miss out on another excellent meal." "Oh you," Wilma beamed, as Jonah hugged her. "You're a charmer, you are." She and her husband stood on the porch and waved goodbye, as Corey and Jonah walked down the gravel drive and disappeared into the darkness. "Stop," Corey murmured, when they rounded the bend and stood on the gravel road, the porch light of his parents' home only a distant glow among the trees and undergrowth. He drew Jonah into an embrace and their lips met. "You have changed my life today, Jonah. Like no one I have ever known, you have changed my life." He drew his lover close and rested his head on his shoulder. "Thank you, so much," he said, on an exhaled breath. "Shhhh." Jonah stroked the hair at the back of Corey's head. "I only stood by you as you did what you'd been wanting to do. You took a chance, and have gained your parents. I'm so happy for you. "Now," he looked up to the darkened sky. "I believe, if we don't hurry, we're going to be soaked. I don't know the way back to town, though, so you'll have to lead." "Aw geez," Corey good-naturedly grumbled. "I never walked around much after dark, when I was a kid." "Afraid some awful monster would get you?" Jonah laughed. "Don't you laugh at me and my overactive imagination. C'mon," he took Jonah's hand and headed into the darkness, the crunch of the gravel beneath their feet, the only guide. "If we stay on the gravel road and don't stumble into the bushes, or fall down a hill, or something, we should get back to town by . . . dawn." "What about any big animals?" Jonah teased. "If we meet any, you can handle 'em. You're . . . um . . . taller than me." "Maybe we should'a brought along a flashlight," Jonah laughed, as it began to drizzle. "Do flashlights work in the rain?" Corey groused. "Knowin' my luck with machines, n'stuff, I'd probably get electrocuted." "I don't think you can get electrocuted from a battery, Corey," Jonah puffed, as he tried to keep up, or lose his friend in the darkness. A half hour later, the two wet men stumbled into the town's bed and breakfast. They took off their dirty shoes and apologized to the home's owner, a matronly woman, who watched them with hands on hips, shaking her head and smiling at the two laughing young men, who didn't seem to care that they were soaked to the skin. "G'night, ma'am," Jonah said, as they climbed the stairs. "We'll not be here for breakfast. Corey's parents have invited us to their place. I hope we haven't ruined your plans." The woman thanked them, and wished them a good night. "I intend to have a wonderful night," Corey murmured, the moment they closed the door to the room behind them. "I intend to strip nekkid, and make love to the sexiest man in the world." "When's he showing up?" Jonah teased, as he scrambled out of Corey's reach and began stripping. "Until he arrives, I'm available," he added, his voice barely above a whisper. "We've gotta be quiet, though. Otherwise, we'll scare the neighbors with your carryin' on. They'll think we're doing an animal sacrifice, or something, in here." "Jonah, no teasing tonight, okay? I love you so much, I can hardly stand it. I need to be serious tonight. We can joke around some other time." Jonah rested a forefinger over his lover's lips. "Shhh. I'm sorry. I know what you mean, but I feel almost giddy with relief and excitement, for you and your folks." * * * "Riley . . . Bailey," Millie smiled, in greeting, holding her arms wide as the two men approached, accompanied by Owen, Lucas, and a young man she'd never met. "Welcome back!" She hugged each one, kissing them on the cheek, and receiving a kiss in return. She invited them to have a seat among the chairs Hank had hurriedly collected from the nearby tables. "I'm so pleased you're visiting us again," she began, then sobered, changing what she'd been about to say, "I am sorry to hear about the death of your mother, brother, and sister." "Well . . .," Riley fidgeted. "Thanks for the condolences, but it turns out our mother wasn't killed." "But that's wonderful!" she began, then trailed off when she saw Riley's expression, "isn't it?" "It's a long story, Millie. I'll tell you all about it, later, but, right now, I'd like you to meet my brother, Nathan. I'm fortunate, like Owen, to have a wonderful brother. Since all this mess with our mother began, he and I have grown pretty close." "Hello, Miss Wolston," Nathan smiled, taking her hand in his. "Riley and Bailey, here, have been tellin' me tall tales about how wonderful your ice cream is." He leaned closer. "Now . . .," he looked from side to side. "I just happen to be an expert in the field of ice creamology. D'you think we might arrange a sampling?" "Why . . . of course, you little charmer. What flavor?" Nathan made a dismissive gesture. "Doesn't matter to me. I like 'em all. As long as they're sweet, I'm happy." "Hey!" Owen chimed in. "A man after my own heart!" "It's already taken," Bailey murmured. "Twice over," Riley added, grinning when Owen, Nathan, Millie, and Hank all turned to him. Lucas said nothing, but scooted his chair a little closer, staking his claim on Owen's heart. "I'm not on the look-out for anyone's heart, guys," Nathan added. "I'd just like a good dish of ice cream. It's so dry, the trees are bribing the dogs." "That confirms it," Millie laughed. "He n' Riley are brothers, alright. Only those two, and Corey, can deliver lines like that." "That reminds me. Where are Corey, Jonah, and Sam?" Bailey asked. "Corey and Jonah are away, visiting Corey's folks," Lucas explained. "Everything's going well," he added, when he saw Bailey and Riley exchange a look of concern. "Is this the Corey with the sequins?" Nathan asked, ingenuously, as he accepted a bowl of ice cream, with a brilliant smile. "Ma'am, you n' I are gonna be best friends," he murmured, after his first taste. "Sequins?" Millie's brows rose. "Corey is one of my favorite men," she explained to Hank, who was looking on in amazement. "I've got lots of 'em," she laughed, gesturing to everyone sitting nearby, "but Corey, he's special. He can . . . bake." After a moment of silence, while she, Owen, and Nathan paused to savor the word . . . 'bake', she continued. "Sequins?" She turned to Nathan for an explanation. "I made an inopportune comment, intended as a joke," Bailey explained, "which Nathan, here, chooses to repeat each time he hears Corey's name. He's never met Corey, or he would realize how outlandish it is, imagining the man in sequins." "Oh . . . I don't know," Millie grinned, mischievously. "It is my humble opinion that Corey would look good in anything." Owen laughed. "He looks pretty awesome without anything, too." "Would it be impolite of me to lick the bowl?" Nathan murmured, ignoring his brother's amused snort. "I'm in ice cream heaven." "Oh my." Millie breathlessly fanned herself with a hand. "Corey naked." There was a pause. "It's almost too much to imagine. Almost," she added, with a mischievous smile. "However," she settled back into her seat and assumed a prim expression. "I believe I'll be content to watch him flex those biceps of his, and appreciate his beautiful chest." "The rest is pretty nice, too," Owen pressed, his eyes sparkling, as he teased the normally imperturbable woman. "I'm sure it is, Owen," Millie responded, lowering her voice, and giving him an over-the-glasses glance. "I'll leave that to Jonah, and you young men." "Corey lives with Owen's brother, Jonah, next door to Owen, Sam, and me," Lucas explained to Hank. "He likes to bake cookies for Millie." "And cakes," Millie added, turning her eyes skyward, as she recalled Corey's frequent gifts. "Which he splits evenly between Owen and this ever appreciative lady," Lucas laughed. "Both of 'em are sugar junkies." "Which accounts for my voluptuous body," Millie added, with a grin. "On Owen, all of Corey's work turns to . . . muscle. I never could understand it." "Um hum," Hank murmured, drawing Millie's wide-eyed response, and a laugh from the rest of the men. "Well," Hank grinned, "What can I say? I'm attracted to . . . voluptuous . . . women." "Uuuuuuuuu," everyone laughed, enjoying Millie's blush, and Hank's unrepentant smile. Nathan pushed his empty ice cream dish to the center of the table, and sighed. "Later, sweetheart," Millie patted him on the shoulder. "Hank and I have lots of details to work out, so why don't you boys take off and get reacquainted, or something." She made a shooing motion with a hand. "Go on. I'm sure you boys have a lot to talk about . . . or whatever." "Details?" Bailey asked Lucas, as the five men left the shop, with a backward wave. "We're working on plans to transform Millie's store into a grocery store." "Sam's over in Evanston delivering vegetables from the greenhouses, to restaurants n' stuff. He and Jonah are selling all sorts'a stuff, right out'a the greenhouse. People are lining up, in fact. Um . . . did I mention Lucas is desperate to find a way to distribute all that stuff throughout the state?" Owen continued, ignoring Lucas' nudge. "That's one of our biggest problems," Lucas added, when he saw Bailey's sudden interest. Bailey turned to Riley. "It seems to me I hear an opportunity knocking." Owen knocked on the door frame of the apartment building. "Helloooo," he laughed, at their questioning look. "That was the sound of an opportunity, just in case you didn't recognize it. Lucas has been too polite to suggest anything, seein' that you all are dealing with plenty as it is." "True, but an opportunity is an opportunity." Bailey glanced at Riley, then retreated into himself, as he considered the possibilities. "It might take you guys' mind off . . . ahem . . . other things," Nathan grinned. "They never stop!" he murmured, turning to Owen. "I understand," Owen said, barely able to contain a smile. "I'm the same way. In fact, before you guys showed up, I was suggesting to Lucas that we head home to exchange some spit." "What?" "He means kiss," Riley explained. "It seems you are the only semi-celibate one around here, Nathan." Riley spoke in a conspiratorial voice, turning to Owen and Lucas. "My little brother is an exhibitionist with no equal." "Hey! These guys are strangers. There's no need to go n' tell 'em everything!" "You blush entirely too easily," Owen laughed. "After you've been around us for a while, it's going to take a lot more than . . . mentioning kissing and likin' to show off, to make you blush." "Guys, I don't even know if I'm gay! This is all too much for me." "S'okay, Nathan," Owen said, as everyone followed Lucas up the building's stairway. "None of us was askin' you t'go to bed. If you're gonna hang around us, though, you've gotta loosen up. We all like to hang around naked n'stuff. Is that gonna bother you?" "Um, no; being naked's real cool. I'm not wantin' to have sex with anyone, though." "We'll keep that in mind," Owen grinned. "You'll fit in just fine." "You certainly have a lot of male admirers, Millie," Hank said, as the young men disappeared into the building. "Do I need to take a number in order to have a chance to give you a hug or two?" "You just went to the front of the line, Mister McCorkle," Millie purred, pleased beyond imagining. "As much as I enjoy their attentions, they are boys. I'd much rather be hugged by a man." * * * Jonah lay with his head in the crook of his lover's shoulder. He inhaled deeply, of the pure sensuality of Corey's scent, and smiled. There had been something special in their lovemaking. Corey was free. Today, his life had changed. Now, if only . . . "We've got'a call Owen tomorrow, and let him know how things went," he murmured, as he ran a hand over the contours of his lover's chest. "I called him while you all were talking, just to let him know things were okay, but I know he'd like to hear your voice. Corey," Jonah rolled onto an elbow and scooted closer, the length of his body pressed against his lover's. "I wasn't the only person with you today. I was standing at your side, but Owen was with the both of us. We need to share our happiness with him. He's got so much going on in his own life, he needs to hear some good news." "What is going on with Owen, Jonah?" Corey asked, as he stifled a yawn? "I mean, really. I know both of us, along with Sam, were freaked that night when Owen had one of his nightmares. He was going on about you guys' father n'all. Is that what's really bothering him, or is there more?" Jonah heaved a sigh. "Pops is part of it, but I'm thinking there's more. Corey," Jonah said, with his head bowed. "Owen is full of contradictions. On one hand, he's the laughing happy-go-lucky guy who loves to talk and tell jokes. I think, though, that that side of him hides the part that's a little boy, who's still crying on the inside at the way Pops treated him. Whenever anyone does anything nice for him, he behaves as if he's been rescued. He doesn't expect . . . um," Jonah hesitated, trying to organize his thoughts. "He, somehow, believes he doesn't deserve to be treated well. He's been told so often how worthless he is, whether he realizes it or not, he's come to believe what he's been told. It's like Owen is surprised whenever anyone other than Sam or me treats him well. He doesn't know how to handle it. "He's kind'a gotten used to you and Lucas being nice to him, but I wonder if, deep down, he half expects it's only a matter of time before you'll turn on him. He seems so in control of things," Jonah murmured. "It's an act. He's not." Corey bit his lip as he tried to imagine his friend's pain. "What about your mother? Surely she's never hurt him." "She has. Not in the way Pops did, or in any way Owen would admit, but by not being able to protect him enough. Corey, Mama went through hell, doing her best to deflect Pops' anger, from all us kids, but, no matter how much she did, it was never enough to keep the man from beatin' up on Owen. So, while my brother loves Mama, there's still that little bit inside him which, no matter how irrational it is, believes she didn't do enough. "No one could have, Corey. He knows that, but . . . still . . . In the end, it was only Owen who could stand up and defy the man. He did that, when he headed off to college, even though Pops told him that Riverton was no longer his home. Standing up, like that, should have given him some measure of satisfaction, and maybe it did, but too much hurt came before, for it to mean much. "Now, Owen's got this thing in his mind where he's allowed Pops into his life, even though the man is dead n'gone. It's almost as if he needs Pops to give his life some twisted sort of meaning. If he doesn't have that struggle, what's left?" Jonah bowed his head. "I know what that's like, 'cause it's a struggle to keep the man out of my life. I can't imagine what Abigail, Opie, or Mama are feeling. We never talk about it. All us Carver's keep our hurts pretty well hidden." After an extended moment of silence, Corey asked. "Do you think Owen has it in him to behave like your father?" Jonah answered, without hesitation. "Yes. So do I. I don't know . . . maybe everyone has it within them. All I know for sure, is that until Pops died, the way he acted was the only type of behavior Owen and I ever knew. To us, that was how everyone's father behaved. We just never saw other people's father treatin' their kids bad, just like no one ever saw Pops beatin' up on Owen, or, to a lesser extent, me. "There have been a couple times, when Owen got really angry at someone." Jonah shook his head. "I could see it in his eyes. He was this close to behaving like Pops. This close, Corey," Jonah emphasized, holding a thumb and forefinger slightly apart. "The slightest little thing would have pushed him over the edge, and he would have taken that first step to start acting like the man who caused him so much pain. "Owen realized how close he was, and it scared the livin' daylights out'a him. Corey, he wasn't only close, he wanted to beat up on someone. Not because of anything they'd done, but because he wanted to pay someone, anyone, back for what had been done to him." "He stopped himself, though," Corey murmured, finding it difficult to imagine the man he loved and admired, behaving in the way Jonah described. "Yes, he did, through sheer strength of will. But, he and I wonder how he'll respond the next time it happens. Maybe, the last time, he wasn't angry enough. Maybe this time will be the time he really loses his temper. "He needs to be tested, Corey . . . tested in some way that will convince him, for once and all, that he can control his anger, that there is nothing to gain from acting like Pops. He needs to finally admit that Pops is not hanging over his shoulder, whisperin' in his ear, tellin' him how worthless he is. "That's gonna be the hardest thing t'overcome, for both him and me. In fact, I don't really think it's possible for us to ever stop believing Pops is whispering to us. We can only try to learn to ignore what he's sayin'." * * * Franklin tossed in his sleep, imagining his ex-wife's dogged pursuit of Nathan and Riley. 'Once she's set her mind on something, she's not the type to give up, especially if what she's looking for is vengeance. 'I wonder where they are . . . if they're okay. They should have accepted the services of a bodyguard.' Franklin thought about the man who was sitting in a chair, across the room from where he was supposedly sleeping. 'On second thought, maybe I should have followed their lead and gone into hiding. Life could be so simple, hanging out with my boys. 'Nah,' he thought, a moment later. 'They're just young men. They don't need me hanging around, putting a crimp in what they're doing. 'Now . . . if only they can survive long enough to enjoy their life, I'll be happy. Of course, I'd like to survive, as well, to share in the boys' happiness.' Franklin turned and punched the pillow. 'Oh, Elizabeth . . . why couldn't you have stayed dead?' * * * "I'm glad we've finally met," Owen said, as he rested an arm over Nathan's shoulders. "Bailey's been tellin' us what a nice guy you are, and Bailey has standards," Owen said, mimicking Bailey's tone of voice. "He's even cuter naked," Bailey added. "I think he's cute when he's dressed, too," Riley added, "but he's my brother, so I'm not supposed to notice those things." "Never stopped me," Owen said, in a deadpan voice. "Me neither," Riley grinned, "I just don't tell him about how sexy I think he is." "Aw geez," Nathan groaned, flopping onto one of the room's chairs, and leaning his head against the back, while he stared at the ceiling. "Owen and his brother have this thing," Bailey informed Nathan. "Like Riley does with Millie, or Millie does with Corey? Everyone around here seems to have a thing." "I've got one," Lucas called from the kitchen. "Me, too," Owen added. "I know for a fact Bailey and your brother have one. I've seen 'em." He stopped. "Don't tell me you don't! " Owen teased. "Oh, he's got one, alright. It's a twin of Riley's," Bailey laughed. "Wait a minute!" Nathan called, holding out his hands, in hopes of stopping the teasing. "We've been in town less than fifteen minutes, and Owen's telling me he and his brother are sleeping with one another, and we're discussing one another's penises. "Shouldn't that be penis, as in each of us has only one?" Bailey's murmur drew a snicker from Riley, and a playful slap on the leg. "At least we're still dressed while we're doing it," Lucas added, from where he was rummaging in the kitchen. "We hardly ever are," Owen added, as he skinned out of his trademark red and white striped T-shirt, then flopped onto the chair opposite Nathan. "Actually, I've never slept with Jonah, at least since I left to go to school. Before that, I never slept with anyone but him. Well, maybe Sam, once or twice . . . When I was with Sam, though, we were doin' more'n sleeping. Oh, Jonah and I jerked off, but that was it. Mostly, we just slept." "Huh?" Nathan didn't seem to believe what he was hearing. "You mean you've never . . . ahem . . . slept with anyone?" "Well . . . I spent the night in Riley and Bailey's bed. I guess you could say I slept with them." "He shot his load on us," Bailey added, as he headed to the kitchen to join Lucas. "We ate it," Riley added. "Yum," Bailey called. "Then, we slept," Nathan shouted. "Why don't you tell 'em I shave my pubes, too? I mean . . . geez . . . you're tellin' 'em everything else." "I like shaved pubes," Owen grinned. "He's not bald," Riley added. "He has a nice black stubble . . . sort'a like a five o-clock pubic shadow. I bet it'd be great to run your face over it." "Guys! Stop it! I feel as if I've stepped into some sort of weirded-out comic routine. And, you say there are three more guys that are part of this comedy troupe?" "Yep, we all live together. Well, Lucas, Sam n'I live together. Jonah, that's my brother, lives with Corey, who, as far as I know, doesn't own anything with sequins on it." "Is anyone straight, in this town?" There was a moment of silence, while Owen and Lucas thought. "Millie and Hank are, I guess, and my mother and Daniel." "Her husband," Lucas provided, in an attempt to keep the characters straight. "No one our age is, though," Owen concluded. "Must be somethin' in the water. 'Course, I don't know about you. You said you weren't sure . . . or something. Have you made up your mind, yet?" Everyone's eyes turned to Nathan, who squirmed. "I . . . uh . . ." "I'm hungry, too." Owen came to the rescue. "Food always comes first . . . even before exchanging spit. Huh?" "Yeah, I guess."
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