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Elias looked though, and back at Jake. Tor leaned on the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, waiting.

"Just…it ain't been real comfortable here for the last few months. Not a nice place to live.

Want to know if things are going to get worse or better."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jake said acidly, anger winning for the time being. "Was our not fighting getting on your nerves? Thought you'd be glad we weren't spilling blood." He slammed his hand down on the counter top, the sound sharp. "Fuck, we haven't even yelled at each other–haven't done anything but try to get through each day, what the hell do you expect from us? You want us to rehash it all for you? Give you the constant noise? You want us to put you through hell?"

"No–"

"Then what? Christ. Honestly, your comfort level isn't high on my list of things to worry about lately. You don't like the way we're trying to deal with this you can leave. Just–"

"Jake." Tor's voice was low and tight. "He's right, they live here, too–"

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Jake turned on him, furious. "Goddamn it! I'm just trying to get through each day and you think I should give a fuck how everyone else is dealing with it? Jesus, our fucking marriage is destroyed and–"

He froze, the silence in the room ringing. Tor'd flinched, but that was all–Elias was just looking miserable and sorry he'd said anything.

Jake turned and left, quietly closing the screen door behind him. He didn't go far–there wasn't anywhere to go and he didn't feel like wandering all over the ranch, trying to run from what he couldn't. He leaned on the railing of the their small porch and looked at the barn, massive and dark in the night, and waited.

Marriage. They'd never said it, not really. Just Tor giving himself over, swearing to be there forever, and Jake saying that he loved him. But it had been a marriage, even if only recognized by himself and Tor. And now it was gone.

He could hear voices in the kitchen, but not the words. Tor and Elias, a word or two from Kirk. Tor for a longer time then nothing for awhile. Elias again. When the door opened familiar steps fell behind him, and Tor leaned on the railing beside him, about a foot away.

"I told them what I did," Tor said.

"Ah, shit." Jake hadn't wanted that, not really. Part of him wanted to call Tor out for being the cheating bastard he was, to make everyone see what he'd done. Part of him wanted the world to spit on Tor and call him a waste of space. Pride, however, came before that–the idea of people knowing what a fool he'd been, how arrogant he’d been…it made him feel ill. And somewhere inside him was a little part that was pleased to know that he was the wronged man in all this, that sometimes other people fucked up his life and this time it wasn't his fault. "What did they say?"

"The truth. Elias called me a fucking idiot and Kirk said I wasn't worth the time to talk to.

Both of 'em made it plain that if I ever hurt you again they'd take me out behind the barn and beat me senseless."

There wasn't really anything for Jake to say to that other then 'good', so he said nothing.

"They thought we'd had a fight, at the dance," Tor said quietly. "That you'd gone out and gotten drunk and we'd had another fight about that. That you'd thrown me out in a fit.

They reckoned we were just taking our sweet time getting back together, and that things were going to get…messier when we finally did. That we'd get back to fighting and fucking and that it would be even worse than before."

Jake nodded, not really caring what they'd thought. He looked out into the dark again and sighed. "I hate you."

He heard Tor swallow thickly. "I know. I'm–"

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"Don't say it. I know."

They stood there for a long time, not talking, not looking at each other. Finally Tor stood up, turned to face the house. "What do you want me to do?"

Jake shook his head in resignation. "Are you still looking for work?"

"Yeah. Not much out there, really, and nothing that pays as well. Nothing with lodging that I can find."

Jake knew that wasn't true, couldn't be true. But he didn't call Tor on it. "Fine. Keep looking. Other than that…we just keep going, I guess. I'm not about to start fights–too fucking old for that shit, and I don't have the energy."

Tor nodded again, kicking at his own boots. "Okay. I–Hell. I can't say anything to you, can I?"

Jake looked at him. "You can. But I won't listen. And I don't want to hear it. But I can't stop you from saying it."

Tor looked like he was thinking about it, weighing the options. "Right. Maybe I'll just think it real loud then."

Jake smiled without humor. "You do that. I'm going to bed."

~*~*~

One evening, a week or so later, Jake was folding laundry in his room with the door open when Tor tapped on the doorframe, looking uneasy.

"What?" Jake said, picking up a t–shirt.

"Can you…um, can you take the phone?"

Jake paused, then folded the shirt. He hadn't heard the phone ring, which meant Tor had called out. The only people he called were his family.

"No."

"Please, Jake? It's Susie, she wants to say hi."

Fucking hell.

Jake looked at him and glared. "No. If she can't understand that we're not together, you'll have to explain it better–"

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Tor was looking at the floor, the truth plain on his face.

"You fucking bastard. You haven't told them."

Tor winced. "I will, I swear, but please. Please talk to her, Jake."

Jake walked past him and into the kitchen. He refused to think it about it, refused to acknowledge what it might mean. He picked up the phone and steeled himself, made himself sound as cheerful as he could. "Hey, Princess. What kind of trouble have you been causing lately?"

Mercifully, Susie only kept him on the phone for a few minutes. When he was done he turned to find Tor standing against the counter chewing his thumbnail, waiting to take the receiver. As Jake passed it back he covered the mouthpiece and said, "Never again. That was for her, not you. You tell them and you tell them soon. Yeah?"

Tor nodded and took the phone.

Jake was glad it had been Susie and not Tor's mother.

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Part Seven

Chapter Forty

Jake leaned on the corral fence, watching River. The horse would paw at the ground and take a few steps, then paw again. When he lay down and got back up a few moments later Jake told Tommy to call the vet and went to get River's tack.

He'd been walking River for almost forty–five minutes when Dr. Winters arrived, and River had started to sweat, his attempts to lay down growing more frequent. Dr. Winters agreed that it was most likely colic, and together they moved River to a clean stall so the vet could examine him.

Jake checked the feed and made sure the hay was all right, barking orders at whoever passed by. He wanted to know who'd done the morning feeding, how much River had eaten, how much hay had been given…anything he could find out. Jake hunted up the deworming records while the Dr. Winters completed his exam, and soothed the horse as best he could while everyone tried to ease his discomfort.

He hated this. He tried very hard not to show it to anyone, but seeing River hurting, knowing that this was something that could kill him–it wound him up tighter than a watch spring. He wasn't sure if anyone knew it, other then maybe the Boss who'd have little reason to remember it, but River was the first horse he'd ever ridden, the first week he'd been on the ranch.

Everyone knew River was his favorite mount, of course, same as Elias preferred to take Shelby and Tor liked Lug. He just favored the horse, was all. But he felt attached to him as well, saw River as the first creature he'd ever given a damn about aside from himself.

There had been caring and friendships after, of course, but River had been the start of something new for Jake, the start of something good.

And now the horse was hurting.

By the time Dr. Winters had done what he could–a messy and awkward procedure that gave Jake sympathetic stomach cramps–a crowd was in the barn to hear the prognosis.

"No twist in his gut," the vet started to say, and the air was suddenly filled with relief.

"And the obstruction has lessened. Not sure what caused it," he went on, looking at Jake,

"The feed and hay were fine, you said?"

Jake nodded. He'd checked it all out himself, and River hadn't been seen drinking more water than usual either, nor had he gotten too hot from being ridden hard or working, then let to drink water that was too cold.

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The vet shrugged. "One of those things that we might never figure out, I suspect. In any event, he'll need to be watched for at least the next day. Walk him ten or fifteen minutes out of every hour, don't let him eat, though he can have something in the morning. If he takes a turn call me back." The vet gave River a gentle pat and left to talk to the Boss, leaving Jake and the others to get back to work. Or rather, leaving Jake to watch the horse and the others to get back to work; there wasn't much that would get Jake out of the stables for the next couple of days.

That night Jake was nicely settled on a bale of hay when Tor appeared in the doorway carrying blankets and a thermos. He came right over, handed Jake the thermos, and said,

"Thought you could use some coffee."

"Thanks," Jake replied, taking the thermos and unscrewing the cap. "Appreciate it."

Tor nodded and went to look at River. "How's he doing?"

"Better." Jake poured out a cup of steaming coffee, wrapping his hands around the plastic cup. "Been quiet, but seems comfortable, and he's been dozing."

"Good," Tor said quietly, almost to himself, it seemed. He walked back to Jake, pulling another bale around for a seat. Still, Jake was a little surprised when Tor sat down, wrapping one of the blankets around himself. He handed the other to Jake. "Thought you could do with some company as well." It was an offer, not a statement, Tor's voice hesitant.

Jake thought about it for a few seconds and nodded. "Yeah. Sure. That'd be good."

They sat in silence while Jake tried to come up with something to say, something mild that wouldn't be taken as an insult or seem too prying. He sipped his coffee, the silence stretching out and reaching the uncomfortable stage, both of them fidgeting and looking around the barn.

"How's–"

"Do you–"

They looked at each other and laughed, the nervousness dissipating once given voice.

"You first," Jake said with a slight smile.

Tor grinned. "Just wondered if you got your holiday plans all set. You know, for Thanksgiving and Christmas–you going to 'Lissa's?"

"Yeah," Jake said with a nod. "Well, for Christmas. Back for a couple of days, then I'm going again for New Year's–Cath will be there, she's going to someone else's for Christmas."

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"What about Thanksgiving?" Tor asked, sounding curious.

"Stayin' here. Everyone else is heading out, someone has to take care of this place," Jake said with a smile. "How 'bout you? Going to Becky's for it all?"

Tor nodded. "Yeah. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's. See Susie…" he looked around the barn and added quietly, "See Momma."

Jake took a breath. "How is she?" he asked softly.

Tor sighed and leaned back, resting against the wall. "She's okay. Well, no. She has good days. And then there are the bad days. Sometimes she can do pretty much what she always did, but other times…some days she can't get out of bed. Becky says most of the time it's somewhere in the middle."

Jake nodded, not quite sure what to say. Maureen had impressed him as a strong woman, probably still was in spirit, if not body. Tor had mentioned her heart problems early in their relationship, but now it seemed that she really was winding down.

"Is it hard on Becky? Having her there?" he asked. He thought about what it would be like for Susie, having her grandmother there, slipping away right before her eyes. Some things a child shouldn't ever have to see.

Tor shrugged. "I'm sure it is, but we've talked about it, and she would rather have Momma there than in a home. Wants to take care of her, you know?"

Jake nodded. "I can understand that."

There was a brief pause then Tor said, "Actually, while we're on topic…" he trailed off until Jake turned to look at him, then said, "I changed my will. And the life insurance thing." He seemed faintly apologetic about it. "Made Momma the sole beneficiary of both, just in case something happens to me. The money–fuck, she'd need the money. Not that there's any chance of anything happening to me before she…before she dies." Tor looked down at his hands, his jaw clenched.

It made perfect sense to Jake. They'd not talked about their wills and such in a couple of years, and Jake hadn't even thought about it since they'd split up. When they'd decided to be together, really together, they'd had their wills made up to reflect that. Jake hadn't had anyone else to leave anything to, so Tor was his only named heir. When he'd been found by 'Lissa and Cath, he'd changed his life insurance to go to Jacob; it was a far larger sum than his savings, so he'd left Tor as the heir in his will. Something else he should change.

"That's fine," he said calmly. "And you didn't have to tell me, you know that."

"Yeah, I know. But I wanted to." Tor gave him a peculiar look, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Ask you something?"

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Jake raised an eyebrow and nodded. He lifted the coffee cup and took a drink, grateful that he'd swallowed when Tor asked, "You still got your ring in?" just as clear and calm as if he'd asked what the time was.

Jake blinked, then blinked again. "Uh, no," he lied. Jesus.

Tor looked at him out of the corner of his eye, an honest to fuck blush working it's way up his neck. "I do," he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "Don't get me wrong, not holding on, just–Jesus, when I think about taking it out, the actual procedure I mean, my balls fucking crawl so far up I get worried they'll never come back down."