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with his ranch and trying to make Jacob feel at home. Tor stood back for a while, letting Jake do as

he pleased and helping out when Jake said, but even Jake wasn't surprised when he found himself

invited out to the porch for a quiet talk the night before Jacob's cast was to come off.

"You've got to calm down, cowboy," Tor said, sitting back on the railing. "You're going to drive us all shit crazy."

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm not that bad."

Tor smiled at him and shook his head. "Jake, you're turning yourself in circles and it's not as funny as it was at the beginning. Relax a little, let things take their time. It'll all settle down."

"I just…" Jake waved his hand at the yard. "We're coming on a busy time and I want to make sure he's in okay. That he knows everyone and can find things--"

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"You can't make a home by pointing out where the feed is," Tor said slowly. "If he can't find something, there's a lot of folks around he can ask. And that's how he'll get to know them, Jake. By liv-

ing here, and working here, and growing up here."

Jake fixed Tor with a suspicious look and moved closer to him. "When are you going to go back to

being an arrogant, stubborn pain in my ass? It's getting a little creepy the way you're on top of all

this."

Tor just grinned at him.

Jake had to concede over the next few days that Tor'd had a point, though. He backed off a little, let

Jacob explore more, and spent more time out on River. There were some odd moments, times when

Jacob was sullen and a little withdrawn, but going out to the stables seemed to help that. Even

mucking out stalls, now that he had the cast off, seemed to make Jacob happy. He was, of course,

far happier to actually groom the animals, but as long as he had access to the stable, he seemed

okay.

He wasn't as fast to figure out some of the other chores, but Jake didn't much care; as long as the

bathroom was clean and the dishes got done, that was good enough for him. Frankly, three men

sharing a house meant that it wasn't the neatest place ever, and none of them really cared much. He

did, however, draw the line at dishes vanishing into Jacob's room and made sure that came to an

end.

Jake wasn't sure what to think the morning Jacob came down to breakfast with a cardboard box in

his arms. He looked a little restless, his glance darting all over the room as he set the box down on

the table.

"What've you got there?" Tor asked as he buttered toast.

"Just some stuff," Jacob said, a little too casually. Tor's eyes flicked up to him as Jacob set the box down on the table, still favoring his arm. He held it stiffly, like he hadn't quite gotten used to the

cast being gone yet.

Jake poured coffee for himself and Tor, waiting to see if Jacob would take the next step and actu-

ally open the box. He hadn't by the time Jake got to the table with the mugs, but then Jacob sighed

and reached for the folded over flaps.

"I was talking to Tommy," Jacob said quietly. "Well, he was talking to me. He's moving to his own apartment, you know? Talking about packing and unpacking--I think he was trying to make me feel

better."

Jake nodded and sat down, letting Jacob go at his own pace.

"And I got thinking…" Jacob stared into the box, his voice getting even quieter. "I mean, I have all my stuff here and all…"

Tor nodded and reached for his mug. "It's your home, kid. You don't have to ask permission to have 100

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things around."

"But these are… special things," Jacob whispered. "They… well, some of them are pretty dumb."

"No such thing," Jake said seriously. "Are you going to show us?"

Jacob shrugged. "I guess."

It was still a few seconds before he took anything out, though, and when he did the first item was a

pottery mug, obviously hand turned and painted, and clearly something meant for a serious coffee

drinker, by its size. "This was her favorite."

Jake glanced at Tor and nodded. "It's real nice," he said slowly. "Should we make sure not to put it in the dishwasher?"

"She always did," Jacob said with a blink. "It's just… it was hers."

"And now it's yours," Tor said firmly, and Jake knew without a doubt that no one would use that mug but Jacob. "But tell me you don’t drink that much coffee."

Jacob smiled. "Not often," he said, but he didn't look up and Jake translated that to mean that Jacob had tried coffee but wasn't sure if he actually liked the stuff.

"What else?" Jake asked, reaching for more toast.

"Just some… well, there's a couple of movies." He held up DVD copies of 'Casablanca' and 'Week
-

end at Bernie's'. "She said they were both classics."

Jake laughed and nodded. "Sounds right. Bet she liked 'Weekend at Bernie's' better, too."

"She did--I think she watched this other one all of twice."

Tor grinned and they sat back in their chairs as Jacob pulled out a few books, a woven blanket, and

two more bits of pottery. None of the things Jacob prized found a home before they all headed out

for the day, but they were all seen for what they were: Jacob's treasures, and the way he found to

make a house his home.

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The rest of June was marked by the steady passing of days and Jacob's birthday. They had a cake

and presents, which were mostly clothes and music, and Cath phoned. Becky and Susie called as

well, which seemed to make Jacob happy, but all in all it was as muted as Jake had expected, and

he could only hope that Jacob's next birthday would be happier. Turning fifteen should have been a

much more upbeat occasion, and Jake was unsurprised when Jacob spent most of the day alone in

the barn or in his room. He was proud of the smiles Jacob managed to work up. Jacob was strong.

They both were.

Didn't stop either of them from missing 'Lissa and being angry at the world, though.

Near the end of the month the three of them took to spending the hot evenings flaked out in front of

the TV, fans blowing on them and the lights off. It just felt cooler that way. Jake was sprawled on

one couch, idly wondering when the weather was going to break, when Tor suddenly stood up from

his armchair, crossed the room and grabbed Jake by the elbow, and pulled him up as well. Jake was

mystified, but he didn't protest.

"Back in a couple of hours, kid," Tor said to Jacob. "Lights out by ten, okay?"

Jacob nodded, not looking away from the TV screen. "Sure, Uncle Tor." After a moment he added,

"Need any help?"

"Nope, me and your uncle have it covered."

"We do?" Jake had no idea what was going on, but he let himself be urged into motion, right out of the living room, across the hall into the kitchen.

"We do." Tor stopped moving and gave him a firm look. "Stay."

"Woof." Jake waited, standing in the middle of the kitchen as Tor went upstairs for a moment before coming back to him. "What are we doing?"

"Going out," Tor said gruffly, taking him by the elbow and urging him once more into motion.

"Clearly," Jake said under his breath as they went out the door. Halfway across the yard he started to get an idea of what Tor's intentions were. "Tor," he protested quietly. "This is a bad idea."

Tor growled.

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"No, seriously. It's too fucking hot to go up into the loft."

Tor seemed to consider that and suddenly Jake found himself being propelled toward the apple or-

chard. "Outside, then."

Jake stifled a sigh. Tor had been getting growly and pissy for almost a week and it looked like he'd

had about enough. It wasn't like Jake hadn't seen it coming--there had been too big a shift in their

house and their relationship for them to escape rough edges. Didn't mean he liked it or had the first

sweet clue about how to deal with it.

Tor wasn't even looking at him. In point of fact, Tor looked more pissed off than anything else, and

Jake began to wonder if his original assumption had been wrong. They'd been making do with

quick blow jobs in bed and even quicker hand jobs in the shower, but Tor looked too mad to be

thinking about fucking.

Unless, of course, he was determined to make sure Jake couldn't ride a horse for a couple of days.

"Tor?" Jake asked cautiously as they drew nearer the trees. "I know things have been a little off lately--"

"Off?" Tor snapped. "No, cowboy, they ain't been off. They've been fucking hijacked. Between working ourselves to death and you jumping at sounds in the night and getting more and more virginal--"

"I am not a virgin!"

"Didn't used to be, no. But I swear to God, Jake, I got further with you when my mother was in the next room instead of Jacob."

Jake rolled his eyes. "And all this bitching and swearing is helping so much."

Tor didn't say anything, but his hand on Jake's elbow tightened a little, his fingers digging in. Jake

contemplated breaking away, but then he'd have to stomp off on general principle and he didn't

really want to do that. Tor hadn't been having great sex, but Jake hadn't either, and while the cur-

rent circumstances were far from wonderful, there was still an orgasm in the offering and Jake was

just hormone-driven enough to put off the fight until after they were sticky.

He was dumb sometimes, but he was far from stupid.

Tor half dragged and half pushed him through the trees until he found what was apparently a suit-

able spot, then he let go of Jake's arm and took a deep breath.

Jake physically braced himself, prepared to keep himself upright under the expected onslaught of

Tor's aggression--he'd been pushed up against enough walls and trees and beams in his time to

know what to do--but it never came. Tor merely stood next to him, breathing. "Tor?"

"Just…" Tor sighed and turned to him, arms opening. "Come here."

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A little confused by the sudden mellowing, Jake moved into Tor's space, still half expecting to be

overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry," Tor whispered, holding him close. "Don't mean to snap."

Jake blinked a couple of times and rubbed Tor's back. "Understandable."

Tor nodded. "Doesn't mean it's right. But you've been hard to reach, cowboy. Like you've got

blinders on, only seeing one part of things. Hard to get to you."

"I'm here now," Jake pointed out softly.

"Uh-huh." Tor's hands drifted down to Jake's ass. "I'm not really in a talking mood, though."

Jake started to chuckle, but before he could even begin to formulate a reply, Tor was kissing him. It

started slow and sweet and didn't change into anything like the hungry, brutal claiming Jake had

been geared up for; it got deeper and more intense, but Tor's mellowing seemed to have gone right

down to his soul, and Jake sank into it. He let Tor's embrace, his arms and his mouth, lull him and

soothe his mind and body, and he barely noticed when Tor laid him out on the soft grass as gentle

as could be.

"I miss this," Tor told him as he unbuttoned Jake's shirt.

"Sneaking off?" Jake looked up the apple trees, a little surprised. Part of the lure of buying the ranch was that they could stop sneaking out.

"No. Well, that's not to say I don't have plans to haul you out into the barns so we can get noisy again." Tor gave him a wicked grin that went right to Jake's balls. "But I meant I miss taking my time." He spread Jake's shirt open and knelt astride Jake's hips, looking down on him. "Going slow."

Jake could only stare up at him and nod, his mind already a bit hazy. "Oh."

Tor took his time. Jake was a mess in short order, but Tor took his time. He spent an age on Jake's

chest, touching and stroking and teasing and licking, and it was almost twenty minutes before he

even moved down enough to undo Jake's jeans.

"Please," Jake whispered, for about the hundredth time. His skin was flushed and he was breathing hard, his mouth bruised from kisses and his face scraped by stubble. He never wanted to go back

into the house again, not if he could just stay there in the orchard with Tor moving over him, whis-

pering to him, loving him.

"Please?" Tor asked, and Jake could tell by the tone that the man wasn't teasing him, wasn't trying to torture him; Tor was just hazy, too, lost in the creature comfort of exploring and touching.

"Touch me," Jake said, rousing himself enough to help with Tor's clothes. "Long enough, Tor. Get rid of your boots." It was hard to get jeans off with dumb ass boots on--they'd tried it before and it had never gone well.

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Tor kissed him again and then they were rolling on the grass, the night making it damp and cool,

and they managed, somehow, to get the boots off. Then everything paused while Tor went back to

loving Jake with his hands, holding him and stroking his thighs, and just being everywhere. It was

still slow and cool and hot and Jake was beginning to shake with the need for more, but not for an

ending. He wanted to crawl right into Tor and stay there for a hundred years, warm and safe, and

share the complete focus of their attention.

There wasn't anything in the world other than stars and apple wood and Tor's touch. There didn't

need to be anything else; he could live off that, his soul and heart completely happy. Hell, if it came down to it, he could live off the apples and just drown in Tor.

Shaking, almost not noticing, he came with Tor's mouth on him, and rolled like liquid onto his

belly, offering. He heard Tor saying something, the tone more important than the words, and then

he was anchored and tethered, but soaring all at once.