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"Oh fuck!"

Jake and Tor scrambled for their jeans and pulled them on as Tor called out, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

All three shadows stopped dead. There was silence for a moment and then Elias said,

"Thank you for not doing whatever the hell that was when you were in the house. Jesus."

Jake tried not to laugh.

Tor didn't say anything.

"No woman never did that to me," Hound said mildly. "Maybe this guy thing deserves a rethink."

"Oh Lord," was the last they heard from Elias as the three of them went back home.

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Jake and Tor looked at each other and started to laugh. They laughed so hard there were tears on their cheeks before they finished, and Jake's sides ached.

"Fucking good, Jake."

Jake kissed him again. "Yeah, Tor. Was. There's lube at home, if we hurry we can scare them out of the house again before bedtime."

Tor stood up and grabbed his shirt. "What are we waiting for then?" He held out his hand and pulled Jake to his feet. "Let's go home."

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Chapter Twenty-three

Jake and Tor had spent the morning on horseback, checking some of the herds. It was a job Jake enjoyed, the day was warm and sunny, and the nearest cattle were all where they were supposed to be. Looked like a good day.

They rode back toward the house, taking their time. There wasn't any rush, it was almost lunchtime and they would get a chance to just sit still for awhile before starting the afternoon's rounds. Jake looked at Tor and smiled to himself. Man looked fine on horseback.

"What are you grinning at?" Tor said.

"Nothing. Just admiring your seat."

Tor shook his head and tried not to laugh. "Admire away, then. Just don't get any ideas, not a chance at being alone today until after supper."

Jake looked at the emptiness around them. "Um, Tor. We're kinda alone now."

Tor blinked and gave him a crooked grin. "Yeah. But we won't be for long. Close enough that someone can hear you screaming and then we'll have lots and lots of company."

Jake felt himself blushing furiously and stared straight ahead. "Shut up."

"Oh come on, it was funny. Even at the time it was funny."

"Doesn't mean I want to do it again. Well, I want to do that again, just without the audience, and I told you to shut up!" Jake glared at his lover, who was about to fall off his mount if he kept laughing that hard. "Christ."

Tor finally got some control back, though he looked like he could start laughing again at any point. "Think Elias has recovered yet?"

Jake grinned. "Been four days. Hell, I haven't recovered yet, not sure if he ever will."

Tor laughed again, and Lug expressed his displeasure by tossing his head.

"You tell him, Lug. Big jerk acts like he didn't have anything to do with it."

"Oh, I had something to do with it, all right. Show you how much later. Bet I can make you scream longer next time, too."

Jake shivered. Yeah, that would be good. Had to find somewhere else, though.

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They rode into the yard and put the horses in the pasture before going to the bunkhouse.

When they went in Elias was sitting at the table with a huge sandwich in front of him. He glanced up at them as they crossed to the fridge and said, "Mail's here. Put yours in your room."

Jake looked at Tor and chewed on his lower lip.

Tor said thanks to Elias and put a hand on Jake's shoulder, squeezing slightly. "I'll make lunch, you go see if there's anything exciting in the mail."

Jake gave him a small smile and went to their room, picking up the brown envelope with his name on it. Light, no catalogues this time; all Jake ever really got was catalogues and the odd magazine. He ripped the end open and looked in at one letter.

He sat on the bed and looked at the handwriting, thinking it was odd that the only way he knew it was from family was by the return address. He didn't know 'Lissa's handwriting.

He opened the letter and lay down on the bed to read.

Dear Jake,

God, I never thought I'd get the chance to write that. So many years…

I spoke to Cath after I got off the phone with you last night. Well, after I stopped crying.

I'm not usually one given to crying fits, but after we hung up, I guess it just all kind of hit
me. Made it real, you know? Cath is as confused and upset as I am, and asked me to pass
her address along to you. I'll write it at the bottom for you. She also asked me to tell you
that she will understand if you take some time before contacting her–this is very
emotional for all of us. She'll wait to read your letter.

Jake–she's a good kid. Well, if 27 can be a kid.

So. As near as we can figure it, you left home for whatever reason–I say Daddy our
father finally went too far, Cath reckons it was Momma. At any rate, you left and then
there was some sort of trouble and they either couldn't or didn't help you out.

Jake, they told us you were dead. Not that you were gone and not coming back, but that
you were dead. Killed in a drunken wreck with your 'no good' friends.

They wouldn't tell us why they didn't bring you home to bury you. Now we know. At the
time we thought it was 'cause funerals and burying cost money.

God, Jake. What happened? Where did you go, and why didn't you come back?

Family–I assume the only ones you care to hear about at this point is the immediate
family.

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I'm well. 32, married, divorced, one son. He's 10. Doesn't look a thing like his daddy,
thank God. I'll send a picture next time, if you want. I named him Jacob.

Cath's 27. Never married, works for a bank in some sort of investment field I don't
understand. She went to college on scholarships. Smart girl, our Cath is. But she's shy of
men–and I don't mind that one bit.

James. Well, James is James. 37 and just like our father. Don't think I need to say
anything else. He has 3 children at last count, but I haven't talked to him in a couple of
years, so it could be more. Cath has, she might know. He drinks too much, doesn't work
enough and has never bothered to marry any of the women who have his kids…more luck
to them, I say. 3 kids, 3 moms.

James and I don't see eye to eye on much.

Momma died nine weeks ago.

Daddy died six years ago.

I don't really know how to end this, Jake. I want the chance to get to know you again, if
you're willing.

Lissa

Jake folded the letter and put it back in the envelope, then took it back out and read it again.

A nephew. A sister who went to college. A sister who wanted to know him.

Family.

Jake closed his eyes and tried to turn his mind off. He wanted to think about the warm feeling in his belly for awhile before he had to ruin it all by writing his own letter. How much would 'Lissa want him in her life when she found out everything? Would she even let him see Jacob, just once, before she said that it was a mistake? That an ex–con and a homosexual wasn't a suitable relative for her boy, and it would be best if they stopped now?

Jake told himself he was looking for trouble where there wasn't any, that he could at least tell her the truth about himself and let her decide based on the facts. And suddenly he knew that he was going to tell her about Tor; not just that he was gay, but that he had someone. That he was happy.

He got off the bed and went to the kitchen for lunch, the letter safely tucked away in his nightstand. He gave Tor a warm smile and when Elias was at the sink washing his hands he leaned over the table and kissed the man.

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Tor blinked. "Uh, thanks?"

"You're welcome."

Tor grinned at him, and Jake smiled back.

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Chapter Twenty-four

Dear 'Lissa,

Not sure where to start. I'll just shoot off your letter and add on later.

Thank you for the letter. And for calling Mr. Gillian in the first place. Man's the closest
thing I've had to family in thirteen years. It's…nice to have a chance to add to that.

I remember Cath as a tiny little bit with too much hair and a dirty face, and a missing
tooth. I will write to her, but not yet. Can't yet. Having a hard enough time with this one.

Tell her that I am thankful for the chance, and that I have her address. It's just going to
take me some time. Tell her I'm sorry.

What happened. Lissa, I'm just going to put it out here, tell you the truth. I figure if you
don't like it, or if it's too much, then we can just go back to our lives. At least you'll know
that I'm alive, and I'll know that you didn't hate me before.

When I was sixteen I had enough of Daddy's fights and words and fists and was just
going to go. Momma said I should go to Aunt Jess's, work in her store for board, you
know? So I went, just happy to be out of the house.

I was drinking a lot then. Been drinking since I was twelve, so no, I really didn't spare a
thought to you and Cath being there still. I'm sorry. I'll never forgive myself for that–it's
the start of a long list.

Went to Jess's and that was okay for about a week. Worked in the store and drank,
wandered around the town at night. No one paid me much mind, certainly didn't try to
start any fights. Days it was just me in the store, or me and Jess, or me and the other part
time guy. Did as I was asked, and I like to think that I didn't give much lip, but knowing
me I probably did.

The other guy, he was a bit older and hell of a lot more open about stuff he'd done. For
all the shit I'd caused at home or at school I didn't talk about it much. He talked. About
people he'd met, fights he'd had, people he'd slept with. He was Big Trouble and I was
Little Trouble trying to be Big.

By that time I'd figured out I'm gay, and I think maybe Momma had a clue. Daddy did.

That's why he beat me that last time, though he swore he'd not tell Momma, said it would
break her heart to have a fag for a son.

Jess walked in on me and Big Trouble making out in the storage room. Said I wasn't
welcome and if I wanted to see the next day I'd best clear out before Uncle James came
home. So I left. Hit the streets and was happy to go.

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Got into some trouble–bar fight–and got picked up. The police called mamma and told
her I was in the lock up. She said 'keep him', and I was just as happy.

Got a letter from her the next week through General Delivery at the post office. Jess had
told her what she'd seen and Momma said that you all would be just fine without me and
not to bother coming home.

Drank a lot, got in more trouble. Needed money and made the biggest mistake of my life.

I robbed a small convenience store at knife point, got ripping drunk and arrested. A
variety of circumstances saw me serve five years of an eight to twelve sentence in a
medium security prison. Best thing that ever happened to me, though what got me there
wasn't so good.

Got sober there, and learned a lot. When I was twenty–two I was pretty much sent here
by my PO. It wasn't a condition of my parole that I stay here, exactly, but Mr. Gillian saw
something in me, I guess, and he took me on. Been here more than a dozen years and it's
home.

That's the worst of it, but I can pretty much guarantee that jail time isn't why Momma
told you I was gone. She just didn't want me around after she found out I'm gay. Can't
change your mind, if that's how you feel, but I won't hide it, either.

Got a partner, too. He's a cowboy here on the ranch, and a good man. His name is Tor;
well, that's short for Tornado, and yeah, he's got a real name too. I've never used it; don't
think I've ever heard anyone use it. If it matters, it's Mark Flynn. He's got family in Texas,
though he's been in these parts for a bit now.

Reckon that's all the shocks I have for you right now.

I've changed, 'Lissa. I'm sober, I work hard, and I have nice life here. Be nice to add
blood family to the one I'm building, but that's up to how you take all this, I guess.

Sorry to hear James isn't on level ground. Saw it happening when I left, but didn't have
any way to stop it.

Sorry I missed Cath growing up. Tell her I'm proud of her. Show her this letter, too, and
if she still wants to she can write.

I've missed you, 'Lissa. Tried not to think about y'all for a long time. Usually it worked,
but there's always been this sore spot that was supposed to be full of memories I never
had a chance to make. Maybe that's my fault, maybe I should have tried to harder to
track you down when I got out. I'm sorry.

Sorry I've missed ten years of Jacob, too. Not sure how to tell you how much it means to
me that he has my name. Even if you only named him that 'cause I was dead, it's an honor
I'll not forget.

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Ball’s back in your court, sis. Think you can take an ex–con gay brother on? You got
room for that kind of baggage?

Take care,

Jake

PS. I really would love a picture of Jacob if you can see your way to sending one.

J

Jake folded the sheaf of papers and sighed. It wasn't right, it wasn't perfect, but he was beginning to the think that the perfect letter wasn't going to be an honest one. Telling her the truth was more important.