Archive of Our Own

Prologue
January 1865

"Wake up, Doc!"

The man's green eyes flew open, his senses immediately overwhelming him with the sound of thunderous explosions, the stench of rotting flesh, and the weak glare of the wintry sun through the tent's opening. He threw off his too-thin blanket and swung his feet off the cot, rising before he was even completely awake. His breath misted in the frigid air as he tugged his bloodstained coat tighter around his torso.

"More's been brought in." The Union soldier's voice was raspy and his face creased beyond his years.

Dr. Jensen Ackles didn't bother to cuss--it took too much energy. Instead, with a nearly cold-numb hand, he grabbed his medical bag lying on the dirt floor where he'd dropped it less than two hours ago. The ground seemed to shift beneath his feet and he froze for a moment. Realizing it was exhaustion rather than the earth actually moving, Jensen followed the private's weaving path through the collection of oft-mended and weatherworn canvas tents. He barely noticed the putrid smells of piss, loose bowels, unwashed bodies, and blood as he passed through the camp's mayhem.

Wounded and bleeding men lay groaning on the cold muddy ground around the hospital tent and Jensen fought the urge to turn around and run as fast and far as he could. But his sense of duty as well as his innate compassion overcame the momentary wave of helpless despair.

He dropped to a crouch beside the nearest soldier and forced a reassuring smile for the wounded boy who shivered uncontrollably. Jensen's fingers gently searched through the welling of blood on the soldier's stomach. What he found nearly erased the smile from his face. In a real hospital, the boy had a good chance of surviving. But here, where medical care was dictated by how many could be saved in these barbaric conditions, the youth wouldn't live to see another sunset.

Jensen laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "We'll have you dancing with your girl in no time." The lie came easily after months of practice.

A trembling smile touched the soldier's chapped lips. "Thanks, Doc," he whispered hoarsely.

Jensen's stomach churned and he swallowed convulsively. He didn't deserve the boy's gratitude. Forcing himself to turn away, the doctor went to his next patient who had a bullet wound above his left elbow, with bone splinters breaking through the skin. This one had a chance, but he'd lose his arm. Better than his life. Jensen noticed how his feet hung over the end of the stretcher and how his patched and faded clothes hung on his frame. Before the war's ravages, the man had probably been heavily muscled, strong and hearty. Now, if he survived, he'd be minus an arm.

"Don't take my arm, Doc," the soldier pleaded, as if reading Jensen's thoughts. His voice was hoarse from pain, smoke, and exhaustion. It also held more than a hint of a familiar drawl.

Jensen frowned, his gaze taking in the bloody gray shirt and dark blue pants. After nearly four years of war, most soldiers wore whatever wasn't in shreds, and without a hat it was difficult to say if the soldier was a Yank or a Reb. A year ago, Jensen would've called for one of the soldiers to take him away. Now, however, it didn't matter. The end was close. Jensen could feel it...taste it. The Union was steadily pushing through the Confederate lines. It wouldn't be long, and this damned war would finally be over.

He hated the senseless death and maiming. All that mattered to him was saving lives and he'd failed more often than succeeded thanks to a lack of supplies and atrocious conditions. Now Jensen didn't care whether the wounded man wore a blue or a gray uniform. He was a human being who deserved a chance to live, regardless of whose side he'd fought on.

Jensen probed the wound carefully. "What's your name, soldier?" he asked.

"JD," he replied through a pained gasp. "I'm beggin' you, don't take my arm!"

Jensen leaned closer, ignoring the stringent stench of blood and body odor. "If I don't, you'll die, JD."

"I don't care. I ain't gonna be half a man." The soldier looked away, moisture filling his eyes. "Sarry deserves better." A tear rolled down the man's sooty cheek and across his grizzled jaw.

Impatience and compassion warred within the doctor. He couldn't simply let the soldier die slowly and in excruciating pain. Jensen had lost too many already. This one he could save.

He motioned for a couple of men to take the soldier into the tent. Then he was moving on to the next wounded man, and the next, and the next, until it was time to care for those who had a chance.

Jensen paused in the opening of the canvas shelter and took a moment to gaze at the stretchers left outside, at the casualties of this godforsaken conflict, and blinked back tears. Their anguished cries and pained moans filled Jensen with loathing, for the war, for the lack of doctors, for the shortage of medicine.

But mostly, he hated himself for not being able to save them all.

Jared Padalecki reined in Red, his big roan mare, at the hitching post in front of Doc Jim Beaver’s office. He dismounted and stretched his long legs, cramped after the long ride into town. Tossing the reins around the post, he removed his black wide-brimmed hat and slapped it against his thigh, waving at the cloud of dust. The motes filtered away into the hot, sunlit air.

After placing his hat back on his sweat-dampened hair, he glanced down the street, at Tate's saloon, and promised himself a beer to wash down the trail dust...after he talked to Doc. His boots thunked on the boardwalk and the bell above the door jingled when he entered the office.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Mrs. Ferris greeted, the twinkle in her eyes belying her dry tone.

Jared doffed his hat and grinned at the handsome widow woman who'd lost her husband to a hunting accident some years ago. "Afternoon, Miz Ferris."

"So what brings you to town?"

"I gotta have a reason to see the prettiest rose in Juniper Wells?"

She snorted. "Don't try to charm me, you rascal. I've known you since you were in knee pants. How are Sarah and the children?"

"Just fine. Kids are growing like weeds. Sarah says she has to work twenty-five hours a day just to keep up with 'em."

Mrs. Ferris smiled, her gaze turning inward. "I remember those days. Even with just the one, JoEllen was a handful." She blinked back to the present. "So why are you here if nobody's hurt or sick?"

Jared shifted his weight from one booted foot to the other. "I wanted to talk to Doc. He in?"

"He just finished with a patient." Her shrewd expression reminded Jared so much of his mother's perceptive looks that his stomach twisted with renewed grief. "Things'll get better, you mark my words," she said with a firm nod.

Jared appreciated the sentiment, but after everything that had happened, he had a hard time believing it.

"Go on," she said, motioning him through the door.

His loose gait carried him to the back room where he found Doc sitting behind his desk, reading a thick tome.

The doctor spotted him and stood, his craggy face lighting up. "Jared Padalecki. How the hell are you, boy?"

Jared shook the outstretched hand, remembering a time when Doc's hand used to swallow his much smaller one. Now, it was Jared's hand that engulfed Doc's. "I'm good. So are Sarah and the kids."

"Glad to hear it, son." He motioned to a chair. "Take a load off and tell me what's bothering you."

Jared grinned. "No small talk about the weather or who's been snitchin' old man Kerrigan's apples?"

Doc snorted. "Hell, everybody knows it's dry and hot, and that nobody ain't been takin' them apples but Kerrigan himself. You got this line between your eyes, just like your pa did when he was chewin' on a problem."

Jared ducked his head and his shaggy hair fell across his eyes as he lowered himself into the chair. "Nice to know I got something from Pa. The way he talked, Jeff was the only one who had any of Pa in him." He didn't mean to sound bitter, but he'd lived in the shadow of his big brother his whole life.

"He was proud of both you boys, and Megan." Doc sighed. "He was just never any good showin' it."

Jared's bitterness evaporated, replaced by regret. His brother was dead, killed in the conflict that had taken so many men, both Yankee and Confederate. "So, how are you doing?"

"I ain't getting any younger, but it beats the alternative." The doctor shrugged and settled back in his chair. "Tell me what's bothering you before you blow up."

Jared met Doc's steady gaze. "The hired man hightailed it a couple of weeks ago." Despite his intention to keep his anger banked, it flared to life. "Son of a bitch rode off on one of my own horses."

"You tell Emmett?"

"What can the sheriff do? The bastard's long gone." Jared took a deep breath to allay his temper. "I guess I should just be grateful he didn't take the Arabian stud. I don't know what to do, Doc. Even though Cole wasn't the best worker, he was better than nothing, which is what I got now. Doesn't seem to be an able-bodied man in the territory who's looking for a job."

Doc stroked his chin, his gaze aimed at his desk. "A lot of good men lost their lives in the conflict."

"You don't have to tell me," Jared retorted sharply, then squirmed under Doc's concerned look. "I'm sorry, Doc. It's just that the damned carpetbaggers are only giving me three months to pay their taxes. I got Sarah and the kids to think about, and if I lose the ranch, there won't be anyplace for them to go. Maybe if it'd been me instead of Jeff who went off to fight--"

"Don't you be talkin' foolish," Doc interrupted with a scowl. "Jeff wouldn't be having any easier time of it if he were here instead."

Jared's gaze slid away. He'd never been able to live up to his brother when Jeff was alive; it was impossible now, after his death. "You wouldn't know of anyone looking for a job, would you?"

The older man shook his head. "Sorry, Jared, but everybody I know is already doin' the work of two or three men, just like you been doin'. It ain't an easy time for anybody."

Although Jared suspected that might be the case, he was hoping Doc might have a miracle up his sleeve. Unable to hide his disappointment, he stood to leave. "Thanks, Doc. I'd best get back."

"If there's anything I can do..."

Jared kept his face angled away from him. "I'll let you know. See ya, Doc."

He strode into the front reception area and nodded a farewell to Mrs. Ferris, whose sympathetic expression told him she'd overheard his conversation with Doc Beaver.

"Jared," she called before he could make his escape.

He paused and faced her, turning his hat brim around and around in his hands.

Mrs. Ferris joined him by the door and lowered her voice. "You've known Doc a long time."

Although it wasn't a question, Jared nodded. "Most all my life, I reckon."

"Then I'm gonna tell you something not many folks know." She crossed her arms beneath her bosom and gazed up at him with somber eyes. "Doc's been feeling poorly."

He glanced at the door leading to the back. "He seemed just fine."

"Only if you don't look too close." She worried her lower lip with her teeth. "He's been having pains in his chest."

"He tell you that?"

"Not in so many words, but last week he was standing here talking to me when he puts a hand to his chest. I've been working with him long enough to recognize heart pains. If he keeps on working so hard, he ain't gonna last too much longer."

Jared couldn't imagine Juniper Wells without the crusty old doctor. "So we gotta get him to stop working so hard."

Mrs. Ferris let out an unladylike snort. "He won't even think about taking it easy. Says he can't leave sick folks high and dry. It's like talkin' to a post. When he got his mind set on something, he's like a damned jackass."

Jared stifled a smile at the widow's salty language, but she was right. "He is a stubborn cuss. I'm not sure what we can do."

She sighed. "Me neither. I shoulda kept my mouth shut. Lord knows, you got enough on your shoulders."

Jared wrapped his arms around the woman and hugged her. She sagged against him as if her worries suddenly overwhelmed her. "No, I'm glad you told me. I just wish there was something I could do."

She kept her face buried in his shirt for another minute then stepped back and tried unobtrusively to wipe her eyes. "Just listenin' helped. Thanks."

"It doesn't seem like much."

Mrs. Ferris smiled but it was a shadow of her usual one. "Knowing you care is enough. I'll keep an eye on him. You need to concentrate on the ranch and your weddin'."

"Wedding's not for a few weeks yet. Besides, it ain't going to be a big to-do like when she and Jeff got hitched. It's gonna be a small, quiet ceremony." He paused and lowered his voice. "It still doesn't feel right marrying my sister-in-law."

"Jeff's gone. Sarah needs a husband, and the children need a father. And since she's living out on the ranch with you..." Mrs. Ferris shrugged. "It's the proper thing to do to keep folks' tongues from waggin'."

"I know. It's just not how I imagined things would be."

"Life rarely is, Jared."

He saw the lingering shadows in her eyes and realized she, too, had seen her share of sadness and loss. He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "I'd best head out."

"Good luck."

He nodded to her then closed the door behind him.

Luck. The only kind of luck Jared had seen since his brother had joined the Confederate army was bad. Pa had died a year after Jeff left. Not long after he died, Ma had taken to bed with an illness that stole her strength little by little until she'd passed three months ago, less than a week after they got word that Jeff had been killed. Jared figured that hearing about her oldest son's death had taken the last of her remaining strength.

The only good thing that had happened in the past few years was that his only remaining family--his little sister Megan--had married and moved to San Francisco, far from the repercussions of war. Now it was up to Jared to hold on to the family ranch and take care of Jeff's widow Sarah and their two children.

Jared considered simply heading back to the ranch, but the prospect of a beer was too tempting. He left Red tied to the hitching post and strode across the street.

The familiar smell of stale liquor and wood chips greeted him even before he pushed through the batwing doors. He walked up to the bar, the thud of his boot heels muted by the sawdust covering the floor.

Tate, the bald, broad-muscled man who owned the place and worked behind the bar greeted Jared with a handshake. "Jared. Been a while."

Jared grinned crookedly as he shook the gruff bartender's hand. "Always too damned much work. Got a beer?"

"Comin' up."

While Tate filled a mug from the tapped keg, Jared looked around the nearly deserted saloon. Two grizzled men sat at one table and conversed in low tones, while an old man with the emaciated body and ruddy face of a drunk, leaned against the other end of the bar. He sighed. None of the three men would make a decent hired hand.

"Not much business this time of day," Jared commented, turning back to Tate.

"Not much business at all," the bartender said. "Those that didn't go off to war got no money left after the carpetbaggers come through."

Jared leaned over the bar, his elbows resting on the surface, and took a sip of the lukewarm beer. He pursed his lips. "I suppose you haven't had anyone coming through looking for a job."

Tate shook his head. "Only people comin' through besides the damned tax men are those who ain't lookin' to do anything but get drunk and start fights."

Jared didn't need a man like that around Sarah and the children.

"You got anyone workin' on the ranch right now?" Tate asked.

"Only me."

Tate stopped wiping the bar and planted his palms on the counter. "Wish I could help you, Jared, but--"

The batwing doors slammed open and Rose, one of the saloon gals, strode directly to the bar. Instead of her typical knee-length scarlet dress, she wore a long dark conservative skirt and a neat brown jacket with a white blouse buttoned all the way up her throat beneath it. Her long hair, usually unbound, was pulled back into a tight bun at the back of her neck. "You have to get him out, Tate!"

"He gonna pay for the damages?" the barkeep asked her dryly.

Her cheeks reddened. "He doesn't have enough money. You can take it out of my pay."

Tate snorted. "Would take at least a year."

"He's my brother!"

"Maybe some time in the hoosegow will give him time to think about what he done. To this place and to you."

"He wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for me." Rose's bluish-green eyes shimmered with tears. "Emmett--Sheriff Ryker said if someone would give him a job, he'd be willing to let him work it off."

Tate held up his hands, palms outward. "Don't look at me. I got barely enough business to keep me and you girls from endin' up on the street."

Rose placed her tightly clenched hands on the bartop. "I can't just leave him in jail."

Jared, who'd been listening to their exchange, asked, "What did he do?"

"Got drunk and raised some hell," Tate replied bluntly. "Broke up some chairs and a table, not to mention more than a few bottles of whiskey. Wasn't the first time he been liquored up, but it was the first time he caused such a ruckus."

"He never used to be like that." Rose gazed up at Jared imploringly. "Can you help him, Jared?"

Although Jared was looking for a hired man, he didn't want a drunkard. He shook his head. "Sorry, Rose. I got to think about Sarah and the kids."

"Jensen would never hurt them. He's a good man," she said, struggling against tears. "It was the war. It changed him."

Jared felt bad for her, but his family came first. He gently squeezed her small hands in his. "I'm sorry, Rose, but I can't take the chance." He finished his beer and tossed a coin down on the bar. "Thanks, Tate."

He turned away, but she clutched his arm, her grip surprisingly strong for such a petite woman. "Please, Jared. Just talk to him. He's not a bad man, I swear. He wouldn't even be in Juniper Wells except that he was looking for me."

Jared felt his resolve weakening. Rose was a friend and he trusted her with secrets no one else knew. He glanced at Tate who shrugged. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "I'll talk to him, but I ain't making any promises."

Rose smiled, her eyes lighting with gratitude. "Thank you."

He allowed her out of the saloon doors ahead of him then they walked side by side on the boardwalk.

"He used to be so different. He was always reading. So smart and gentle. People even called him shy," Rose imparted in a soft voice. "Except when it came to defending me. I used to think he could do anything."

"How much older is he than you?"

"Six years. He turned twenty-five in March."

"He's not married?"

Rose kept her eyes on the boardwalk. "No." She finally looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Jared. I haven't seen you in so long and here I am spilling out all my troubles."

It seems to be the day for that sort of thing, Jared thought without malice.

"How are you doing with the wedding plans?" Rose asked.

"Not much to plan. Sarah talked to Reverend Paulson and set the date. I just have to show up."

Rose remained quiet, but Jared could hear her censure.

"I have to do this," Jared said in a husky voice.

Rose reached for his hand and clasped it, but released it before anyone saw them. "I know. I just wish you had a choice."

"Me, too," he breathed soft enough that Rose couldn't hear him.

Jared opened the door of the jailhouse and allowed Rose in ahead of him. The office was about twelve by twelve feet, with a solid wood door that led to the four cells in the back room. Sheriff Emmett Ryker sat at his desk, and behind him on the wall various wanted posters were pinned up.

The lawman stood up and smiled. "How are you, Jared?"

"Tolerable, Sheriff." Jared shook his hand and felt a trace of the familiar awe he held for the lawman. Emmett was five years older than Jared, but he seemed so much more experienced. His dark hair was slicked back from a craggy yet handsome face.

Emmett crossed his arms and eyed Rose. "I hope you haven't come back to try to get me change my mind, Miss Rose."

"Could I change your mind, Sheriff?" she asked with a saucy tilt of her head.

Emmett shook his head, but his eyes were more admiring than disapproving. "So why are you here?"

"I'd like to talk to Rose's brother," Jared said.

Emmett arched an eyebrow in question.

"You said that if someone was willing to hire him, you'd let him out to work off his debt," Rose reminded.

"So you're willing to hire him?" Emmett asked Jared.

"I won't know until I talk to him."

"You'd be responsible for him as long as he's working for you," Emmett warned.

"That's why I need to talk to him before I make a decision."

The lawman shrugged and reached into his desk drawer to withdraw a ring of keys. He crossed to the door and unlocked it. Rose followed Emmett, and Jared came behind her. Jared wrinkled his nose at the stench of vomit and stale liquor emanating from a bucket in the corner of the only occupied cell.

"Jensen, are you awake?" Rose called out softly.

"Wake up, Ackles. You have company." The sheriff's holler wasn't as sympathetic.

The dark lump on the cot groaned then rolled over and opened his eyes. His gaze immediately traveled to his sister. "Thought I told you jail wasn't anyplace for a woman."

Rose glared at her hungover brother. "When did I ever listen to you?"

"Never since I got here."

Jared stepped up to the bars of Ackles' cell to get a better look at the prospective hired man. What he saw didn't impress him--a few days of scruffy whiskers, bloodshot eyes, dirty clothes, a bruise on his cheekbone and a split lip.

Ackles peered bleary-eyed at Jared. "Who're you?" he demanded.

"Jensen, this is Jared Padalecki," Rose introduced. "He owns a ranch west of town. He's looking for someone to work for him."

"Don't need a job."

Rose's nostrils flared with anger. "So you want to spend the next few months in here?"

"Been worse places for longer."

Jared saw his nonchalant shrug and heard his flat tone, but he also noticed a fleeting shadow of grief in the man's eyes.

"You ever work on a ranch?" Jared asked.

Jensen shifted his attention to him and scoffed. "How hard can it be?"

Jared didn't let his insulting tone provoke him. "Hard enough to sweat out all that alcohol in your body and make you too tired to replace it, much less start a fight."

Jensen's eyes narrowed and there was a keen intelligence in them that Jared had missed on first glance. "Why would I want to work when I can lie around here all day?"

"Because your sister doesn't like seeing you in here and I think you care what your sister thinks."

Jensen's jaw muscle clenched and his fingers curled around the edge of the cot. "You another one of her 'customers'?"

"She's a friend."

"Yeah, I can imagine what kind of friend." The ugly sneer in the man's voice told Jared he definitely cared about his sister, and hated that she was working in a saloon. Jared couldn't blame him. He'd feel the same way if Megan was in Rose's position.

"Jared's telling you the truth," Rose interjected. "We're only friends."

Jensen continued to glare at Jared.

"Can I speak to him alone?" Rose asked Jared and the sheriff.

Emmett shrugged and, after a moment, Jared followed him out of the back room.

As soon as the door was closed behind them, Jared could hear Rose's voice though he couldn't distinguish the words. However, he did recognize her impatient tone.

"So when did he get to town?" Jared asked Emmett.

"Over a week ago. He's gotten drunk most every night," the sheriff replied scornfully. "Rose deserves better than a brother hell-bent on drinking all the booze in town."

Emmett's vigorous defense of Rose made Jared wonder if the lawman was sweet on her. Jared tried to remember if she'd ever talked about him, but realized she'd always kept the conversation centered on Jared. She'd never even talked about her own family.

Emmett asked him about the ranch, and Jared told him how the last hired man had stolen one of his horses. The sheriff took down the name and description of the man as well as a description of the horse.

"You should've reported him as soon as it happened," Emmett admonished.

"Couldn't take the time to come into town. Too much work at the place."

"I'll send out telegrams to the lawmen in the surrounding towns. Maybe one of 'em saw something."

"Thanks."

The back room grew quiet and Rose came out. "He's willing to work for you, Jared," she announced in a weary voice.

Jared's gaze flickered to the back room. "Mind if I talk to him myself?"

"Go ahead."

Jared looked at Emmett who nodded his approval. Leaving Rose and the sheriff in the office, Jared returned to Ackles' cell. The man was standing at the far wall, his back to Jared as he gazed out the small barred window.

"I'll expect a fair day's work from you," Jared began. "And no whiskey. There's a woman and two young children living on the ranch. You'll be eating meals with us so I'll expect you to be sober and polite."

Ackles continued to stare out the window as he asked, "How many others you got working for you?"

Jared crossed his arms. "No one."

Ackles turned around slowly. "Where would I sleep?"

"The barn. There's a room separated off from it. You'd be the only one staying in there."

Some of the tension leached out of Ackles' stance. "I want to come into town to see my sister once a week."

"You'll have Sundays off. You can go to town then, but you get drunk and raise hell, you're back in jail. No second chances."

Ackles rubbed the back of his neck and Jared caught sight of dried blood on his knuckles. Probably from the previous night's drunken brawl. Ackles' hand fell back to his side and he approached the cell bars. "How do you know I won't just leave?"

"You won't. Not as long as Rose is working at the saloon." Jared knew he was right when Ackles' gaze skittered away.

"You got a younger sister, Padalecki?" Ackles suddenly asked.

Jared nodded. "She's married. Living in San Francisco."

Ackles raised his head and the smile on his face was nowhere near genuine. "Mine should be married, too, living some nice respectable life with some nice respectable man. Instead, she's working in a saloon, dancing with men and doing God knows what else with them."

Jared knew Rose's job involved serving drinks and getting men to dance with her for a price. The only man she'd gone upstairs with was him and her virtue hadn't been endangered, but her brother didn't need to know that.

"I ain't going to sugarcoat it for you, Ackles. The ranch is over a thousand acres, with a passel of mavericks on it that I aim to brand. I also have a buyer lined up in San Antonio at the end of summer so we'll have to drive the herd there. It's a helluva lot of work for two men."

"What's the pay?" Ackles asked.

"Ten a week, and room and board."

Ackles snorted. "It'll take three months to pay the damages and another for the fine."

Jared shrugged. "Take it or leave it."

Ackles stared at him and Jared held his gaze. It was up to Ackles, but if he loved his sister like Jared thought he did, the decision was already made.

"I'll take it."

Jared nodded, both relieved to have found a hired man and worried that Ackles would turn out to be worse than his previous help. "I'll tell the sheriff." He turned to leave but paused and spoke over his shoulder. "Don't make me sorry I did this."

Ackles tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement and Jared didn't know if he should be reassured or concerned. He opted for cautious.

Back in his boardinghouse room, Jensen drew the straight razor down his neck and cursed when his shaky hand caused him to nick the skin. A thin line of blood appeared and he froze, stared as it trickled down his neck. The blood triggered a barrage of pictures, of men with their guts on the outside, a bashed in head with brain matter oozing out, of piles and piles of amputated legs, arms, hands and feet. Then there was the constant buzzing of flies; the itch of men's drying blood on Jensen's hands, arms and face.

"Why don't you let me shave you?" His sister's question snapped him out of the horrific memories.

He blinked and had a sudden, urgent craving for alcohol. "I've been shaving myself since you were in pigtails," Jensen growled.

In the mirror, he saw the hurt flash across McKenzie's face and his hand tightened on the razor. Before the war he'd been compassionate and even-tempered, required qualities for a doctor. But nowadays there was an irritation that crawled just beneath his skin, making him snap at everyone, even his own sister whom he'd rarely raised his voice.

When he'd left to join the war, McKenzie Rose Ackles had been a polite girl, on the cusp of becoming a beautiful young lady. He'd returned to find their father dead by his own hand, his older brother seeking his fortune at the gaming tables, and his beloved little sister gone. After two months he'd found her in this godforsaken town, going by her middle name and working in a saloon. During the war, it had only been thoughts of her that kept him going, knowing she was safe back home away from the horror and destruction. But the war had found his family and shattered them apart.

He heard McKenzie moving around, gathering his few possessions and stuffing them into his saddlebags. After a stern lecture from Sheriff Ryker that made him feel like a wet-behind-the-ears kid, Jensen had been released. He was to return to his room, gather his belongings, and ride back with Padalecki to what was essentially his prison until he worked off his debt.

"Please don't give Jared any trouble," McKenzie said as if reading his mind.

"Is he one of your special boyfriends?" Jensen hated the scorn in his tone, but he couldn't help it. McKenzie had refused to leave town with him; refused to leave the disreputable work behind.

She planted her hands on her hips and her eyes flashed with anger. "Jared is a good friend. He's marrying his brother's widow even though he never planned on hitching himself to a wife. But he'll sacrifice his own happiness so she'll have a home, along with his nephew and niece. That's the kind of man Jared Padalecki is."

Jensen met her reflected gaze in the mirror. How could he admire the fiery woman she'd become, while at the same time be so frustrated with her he wanted to turn her over his knee? He dipped his head and scooped water from the basin in his cupped hands to rinse off the remaining soap, using the routine to gather his composure. He dried his face with the rough towel then tossed it aside and turned toward his sister. "I'll be good," he said, sarcasm edging his words.

McKenzie stared at him then shook her head in exasperation. "What happened to you, Jensen? Where did my big brother go?"

Her words cut sharply, wounding him more deeply than he'd ever admit. He laughed, the sound cruel rather than amused. "Look who's talking. My little sister, the whore."

The sound of flesh against flesh echoed loudly in the stunned silence that followed. Jensen's hand flew to his slapped cheek and he didn't know if McKenzie or himself was more shocked.

She brought her hand to her mouth and her eyes filled with moisture. "I-I'm sorry."

Jensen closed his eyes, unable to bear her aggrieved expression. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"I did what I had to do," McKenzie whispered hoarsely.

Jensen bit the inside of his cheek and tasted blood. If only he'd been there after their father put a gun to his mouth. If only he hadn't joined the Union. If only the damned war had never happened.

McKenzie turned away before Jensen could say any more and she put the last of his things in the saddlebag. As she struggled to thread the strap through the fastener with trembling fingers, Jensen came up behind her and laid his hands on her slender shoulders. He rested his head against hers and spoke softly, close to her ear. "I promise I won't cause Padalecki any trouble."

She turned around and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest. "Thank you."

*

Jared retrieved Ackles' pretty flaxen mare from the livery, as well as Red from Doc's place, and tied them to the hitching post in front of the rooming house. He settled in the rocking chair on the boardwalk to wait for Ackles and Rose. He didn't figure Ackles would try to make a run for it with his sister with him.

"JT Padalecki. Haven't seen you in years."

Startled out of his musings, he glanced up to see Tab Grainger standing in front of him. Tab had been Jeff's friend, and the two of them had left together to join the Confederate army. Only Tab had returned and the war had done nothing to lessen his arrogance. If anything, it had worsened it. "Grainger. How've you been?"

Grainger shrugged and his dark eyes assessed Jared coolly. "You know how it is, tryin' to keep a ranch runnin'."

At least you have men to help you, Jared thought with more than a hint of rancor. When Tab came back from the war, he'd brought three ex-soldiers with him.

"How's Sarah doin'?"

Jared stiffened. Tab and Jeff had both vied for Sarah's hand, but she'd ultimately chosen Jeff. "Fine."

"I hear tell that you and her'll be gettin' hitched. That right?"

"Only seems proper since she's living on the ranch."

Grainger leered. "Maybe I'll come by and see if she's interested in bein' courted by a man instead of havin' to settle for marryin' a boy."

Jared's fingers curled into fists but he wouldn't let the bully get under his skin. He simply shrugged. "Sarah's got a mind of her own."

"She does at that." Grainger's leer was replaced by a scowl. "Seein' as how you're the only Padalecki left, I guess you're the one I gotta talk to."

Jared suspected he knew what Grainger wanted to discuss, and he didn't want to have the conversation. He stood, intending to go check on Rose and her brother. "Maybe some other time. I've got to go."

Grainger grabbed Jared's arm. "You got a minute to listen to me, kid. It was a damned dry year and our waterin' holes are all but dried up. Any place that has any water is yours, which means all the cattle in the territory are on your land."

Although his heart pounded in his chest, Jared glared down at the man's hand that gripped him. As if proving he could, Grainger kept hold of him a few moments longer then released him.

Jared straightened to his full height and felt a margin of satisfaction when Grainger had to tip his head back to meet his eyes. "Pa was smart to claim what land he did, and whatever mavericks are on it will get the Bar P brand."

"That's a lot of work for one man." Grainger smiled without warmth. "Me and my men''ll help you."

Jared didn't bother telling him he had a hired man. "What's it going to cost me?"

The older man pretended to think a moment. "For every maverick you brand with Bar P, we brand five with the Grainger brand."

Jared bristled with anger. "That's thieving, pure and simple."

"You should be grateful I'm willin' to let you have that many, with me and my boys doin' all the work."

"We do it even up and I pay half your men's wages when we sell the cattle."

"I ain't dickerin' on this, boy. My way or there's no deal."

Jared wasn't used to speaking for the Bar P; that had always been Pa or Jeff's job. But he wasn't going to let Grainger steal his cattle. He needed those cattle to pay the taxes. "No deal."

Grainger shrugged as if Jared's decision meant nothing. "We'll see about that." He spun around, but tossed back over his shoulder, "Be seein' you around, JT."

Jared was filled with impotent rage tempered by dismay. If Tab did as he said, how could Jared fight him? Yet he didn't have a choice. His parents had worked too hard to build up the ranch and as a Padalecki, the responsibility to hold on to it fell on him.

The boardinghouse door opened and he turned to see Rose and her brother. Jared managed not to gape at Ackles, who'd washed up, shaved, and donned a clean shirt. The bruise on his cheekbone was the only imperfection to mar his handsome face.

Jared cleared his throat "You ready?"

Ackles shrugged. "Ready as I'll ever be."

His aloof reply didn't bode well, but Rose sent Jared an encouraging nod. Jared hoped she was right about her brother because there was little about Ackles that instilled any confidence in Jared.

Rose hugged her brother and Ackles wrapped his arms around her as he kissed her cheek. Then he stepped away and tied his saddlebag onto the back of his saddle.

A small hand on his arm made Jared look down to see Rose beside him. "Thank you for giving him a chance, Jared."

"I needed some help, and as long as he does his work, we'll get along fine," Jared assured, then cupped her cheek affectionately. "Besides, I owe you."

"No, you don't."

"Who else would've done what you did?"

Rose's cheeks pinkened but her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Believe me when I say it was my pleasure."

Jared glanced up to see Ackles glowering down at him from atop his horse. He wanted to laugh but didn't dare. There was no way he'd ever tell Ackles how he'd spent his time in Rose's room.

"I'd best get going before your brother's glare strikes me down," Jared said in an intentionally loud whisper. He swung up onto his horse with ease. "You'll see him again on Sunday," he assured Rose.

"Thank you," Rose said. She lifted a hand in farewell and both Jared and Ackles did the same.

Jared checked the position of the sun. "We should get to the ranch by dusk."

Jensen merely nodded.

Shrugging mentally, Jared urged his horse west down the main street. The sound of a second set of hoofbeats told him that Ackles followed.

Jared hoped he hadn't made a terrible mistake with Ackles. But it was a risk he had to take because without any help, there was little or no chance of saving the Bar P.

*

Padalecki tried to engage him in conversation a few times during the seemingly endless hot ride, but Jensen remained stubbornly silent. Just because the rancher got him out of jail didn't automatically make them best friends. Nor did it mean Jensen was going to show eternal gratitude. The man needed an employee; Jensen needed a job to be released from jail and pay his dues. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement, though Jensen figured Padalecki got the better end of the deal.

"There's the ranch," Jared announced.

Despite himself, Jensen followed Jared's gaze through the gathering dusk. He could make out an imposing two-story house that seemed out of place in the rustic surroundings. An equally impressive barn was set maybe a couple hundred feet away with a corral connected to it. A couple dozen horses pranced about in the enclosure.

As they drew nearer, Jensen began to notice imperfections, signs of weathering that were normally kept at bay by regular upkeep. So it seemed the stately Padalecki ranch wasn't totally unaffected by the war.

Padalecki led him to the corral, which on closer examination, was also weather-worn and sagging. Two dogs danced around the horses' legs, and Jensen kept firm control of Lexie, but the mare didn't seem bothered by their antics. The men dismounted and the tall rancher immediately squatted down to be pawed and licked by the dogs.

"Meet Sadie and Harley," Padalecki said, motioning to the somewhat smaller dog first then the big clumsy one.

Jensen held out his hand and Sadie and Harley sniffed it. Sadie pressed herself against Jensen's legs, and he obliged by petting her. Harley woofed once then ran off, more than likely chasing an elusive scent. After a few more pats, Sadie joined the larger dog.

Padalecki grinned. "They took to you pretty fast. You must have a way with animals."

Though he'd always liked dogs and they usually liked him, Jensen merely shrugged away Padalecki's comment. His new boss's grin slid away and for a moment, Jensen regretted the loss.

They unsaddled their horses in silence then Jensen followed Padalecki, carrying his bridle and saddle into the barn. They entered into the tack room, and by the amount of dust coating most everything, it appeared nobody had done much work on the leather equipment lately.

Jared pointed to a door on their right. "Through there's where you'll be sleeping. This is the only entrance." He pointed to another door straight ahead of them. "That one goes into the barn."

Jared opened the one leading to the hired help's room, and Jensen wrinkled his nose at the stale air as he entered. Padalecki immediately crossed to a window and opened it, letting in the warm, but fresh evening smells.

"Sorry. It's been closed off since the last man left," the rancher apologized.

Jensen shrugged, his gaze moving across the area: four bunks with pillows and blankets; colorful rugs scattered across the floor; a table and four chairs; a commode with a pitcher and basin; and a potbellied stove situated in the middle with two scuffed and well-used rocking chairs on either side of it. As a hired men's bunkroom, it was surprisingly comfortable and homey.

Padalecki slid his hands into his pockets. "Before the war all the beds were used. Now--" He shrugged then said with obvious reluctance, "I guess I was lucky to get you."

"Don't sound so happy about it," Jensen muttered.

Padalecki pressed his lips together in a thin line and when he spoke, it was with a tight jaw. "I'm sure Sarah's keeping supper so we'd best head to the house."

Jensen again found himself following his new boss through the tack room, but went through the barn and outside the two wide doors. They walked across the yard, scattering the chickens that were scratching at the ground. Harley and Sadie darted back and forth, but Jensen noticed they knew better than to chase the chickens. Jared led him around to the back door, where a bench with a pitcher, basin, soap and towel were laid out. As they were washing up, the door opened and two small dervishes dashed out.

"Uncle Jared," they shouted and latched onto his long legs.

Padalecki grinned widely, displaying dimples that Jensen hadn't noticed before. Of course, the man hadn't smiled at him like he did with his niece and nephew. The tall man scooped up the smallest, a girl with blond hair and an angelic face. "Hey, Abby-girl. Miss me?"

"You were gone f'rever," the girl who looked about four years old said with a grown-up's seriousness.

"Was not." The boy, probably two years older, shot back with the superior tone of a big brother. "Only for the afternoon."

Padalecki tipped his nephew's straw hat down over his face. "Did you listen to your ma, Austin?"

The boy shoved his hat back into place and scowled. "She made me weed the garden. And I had to watch dirtface while Ma made supper."

"Am not dirtface," Abby shot back with all the wrath of a put-upon little sister.

Despite himself, Jensen fought a smile at their shenanigans. The last time he'd been around children was when he'd worked with pediatrics in a Chicago hospital. Although it had been difficult to see sick youngsters, their innocence and smiles had made up for it. So different than the realities of a wartime hospital.

His heart began to race and he forced himself to slow his breathing. He wished he had smuggled back a bottle of whiskey from town.

"Don't call your sister names, Austin," Padalecki scolded. "Abby, Austin, I want you to meet Mr. Ackles. He'll be working here for a little while."

Jensen squatted down and held out his hand to the boy. Austin's small hand was almost swallowed up by Jensen's. "Nice to meet you, Austin."

"You gonna help Uncle Jared so we don't have to leave the ranch?" Austin demanded.

Jensen glanced up to find Padalecki swallowing hard, and he realized the boy meant that the ranch might be taken from them, probably by the carpetbaggers he'd heard so much about. He turned back to the boy. "I'm sure your uncle would do just fine without me, but I'm here to give him a hand."

Jensen rose and caught the surprised gratitude in Padalecki's eyes. He quickly looked away and found the girl's big brown eyes on him as she had one arm wrapped around her uncle's neck. "It's nice to meet you, too, Miss Abby."

She hid her face in the curve of Padalecki's shoulder.

"She'll get over her shyness fast enough," Padalecki said. "She's usually a little chatterbox, so you'll be wishing for some more of that shyness soon enough."

A pretty dark-haired woman wearing a faded but clean violet dress and light-colored apron stepped out onto the porch. "Abigail and Austin. You two are supposed to be getting ready for bed."

"But Uncle Jared just got home," Austin said.

"You heard your mother." Padalecki set Abby down and gave her and her brother each a swat on their backsides. "Go on now. I'll see you in the morning."

Grumbling under his breath, Austin took his sister's hand and tugged her into the house.

"I declare, that boy is getting more and more stubborn every day," the woman said, a gentle Texas drawl softening her words.

"It's his age," Jensen said without thinking. "Around five or six, they start asserting their independence."

Padalecki stared at him as if he'd just announced he was the king of France.

"You must be the new hired man," the children's mother said after a moment's hesitation.

Padalecki snapped his mouth shut. "Sarah Padalecki, this is Jensen Ackles. He's signed on to work here for a few months."

She held out a slender hand, which Jensen awkwardly grasped. He'd been around few respectable women the past couple of years. "Ma'am."

"Please call me Sarah. We don't hold to formalities out here," she said with a friendly smile. "I've been holding supper so you two'd best get inside and eat." She turned to Jared. "Get Jensen a plate and silverware. I'll be down as soon as I get the children settled in bed."

Once she was gone, Jensen's stomach took that moment to growl, reminding him the only thing he'd put in his belly the past twenty-four hours was rotgut whiskey.

Padalecki chuckled. "Sounds like I'm not the only one who's hungry."

The kitchen was hot, but the lingering scents of fresh bread and cooking meat made up for the discomfort. Padalecki seemed as familiar in the kitchen as he did in the tack room and soon the two men were seated at the table with heaping plates of beef, potatoes, carrots, pickles, and bread with sweet butter. Jensen couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten such a delicious meal.

"I don't plan on telling Sarah about our arrangement," Padalecki said as he sopped up the last of the gravy with a piece of bread. "No reason for her to worry." He paused. "Is there?"

Jensen scowled. "I told you I'd hold up my end."

The rancher popped the bread in his mouth and drank some water to wash it down. "I just want to make sure. With Austin and Abby, you can see why I don't want to take any chances."

"I don't make a habit of beating up women and children."

"I figured. Rose is a sweet, kind-hearted girl. I can't imagine her brother being intentionally cruel."

Jensen wanted to be angry with the man for being so familiar with his sister, but he was right about her disposition. He cleared his throat. "So Sarah was your brother's wife?"

"That's right. My older brother Jeff." Padalecki moved his water glass around and around in a small circle. "We got word a few months back that he was killed in the war."

Jensen's hands began to tremble and he set them in his lap, curling his fingers into his palms. He should've guessed Padalecki's brother had died like so many thousands of other young men. He wanted to say he was sorry, but the words wouldn’t come. How often had he said them to men he couldn't do a damn thing for but give them morphine? And toward the end when supplies were almost nonexistent, he couldn't even do that. All he could do was lie to them, tell them they'd be dancing with their sweethearts soon.

Padalecki's shrug couldn't hide the sorrow in his expressive eyes. "We hadn't seen him since he upped and joined, about a year after Abby was born."

"Jared's the only father Abby's ever really known," Sarah said, bustling into the kitchen. "And once we're married, it'll make it legal."

Jensen glanced at Padalecki, but the rancher's eyes were downcast, studying his water glass as if it held the answers to all his questions. Unable to bear the awkward silence, Jensen stood. "Thanks for dinner, ma'am, uh, Sarah. I'd best get settled in my bunk. Morning'll come fast enough."

He grabbed his hat from a wall rack by the door.

"Breakfast is at six thirty," Padalecki called after him.

Although the 'you'd better be here' was left unsaid, Jensen heard it loud and clear. He nodded and slipped outside, surprised to find full dark had fallen while he'd been eating.

The dogs joined him as he headed to the barn, and with his unsettling thoughts, their company was oddly comforting.

Cannons boomed and men screamed as limbs and lives were destroyed. Blood covered both dead and living soldiers. Jensen moved from fallen man to fallen man, praying and hoping there would be some he could save. His vision blurred and his knees became soaked from the mud created by blood and piss and vomit, but still he kept searching. One man had half his face gone but blood gurgled with each shallow, uneven breath. Jensen could do nothing for him and he rose to move on to the next soldier, but a skeletal hand grabbed his sleeve.

"I don't wanna die, Doc," the man whispered hoarsely with half a mouth.

Jensen swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. "There's nothing I can do. I'm sorry."

The wounded soldier abruptly sat up, grabbed Jensen's shirt in his bloody but shockingly powerful hands and pulled him close. The man's ruined face twisted into hatred. "You can't save me. You can't save anybody. What good are you?"

Jensen's heart threatened to beat out of his chest and he scrabbled at the bony hands, tried to escape the dead man's clutches. His eyes burned with suppressed tears. "I'm trying."

"You're nothing. You're worthless." The soldier threw his head back and laughed insanely, his open mouth filled with blood and maggots.

"Nooooo!"

Jensen jerked up in his bunk, a scream poised to escape and he snapped his mouth shut, tasting blood's tinny flavor. Sweat soaked his face and chest, and he looked around frantically. It didn't look like his tent; the bed didn't feel like an army cot; and it was quiet. Too quiet. The more-recent memories trickled in slowly until he recognized his surroundings.

He planted his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward to bury his head in his hands. He felt moisture on his cheeks and scrubbed it away, furious with his weakness. God, he wanted whiskey. Craved the oblivion that came with the alcohol's burn. But he'd given McKenzie and Padalecki his word.

There was no way he'd be able to fall asleep after the too-vivid dream so he threw back his blanket and stood. Glancing out the window, he looked at the moon's position in the sky and figured dawn was still a couple of hours away.

A horse's pained squeal made his heart miss a beat then drum in his chest. He tugged on his clothes and boots, leaving his shirt untucked, then hurried into the tack room and through the door that led into the barn. The dim glow of a lantern at the other end drew him.

Once by the stall where the lantern hung on a post, Jensen spotted Padalecki inside with an expecting mare lying on her side. The caustic smell of amniotic fluid was strong, which meant the mare's water had broken and she was now in labor. Padalecki's back was to Jensen as the rancher knelt beside the horse.

"C'mon, Fancy. You can do it," Padalecki crooned.

The chestnut mare's coat was dark with sweat and her legs trembled. Jensen heard a wheeze that translated into the human equivalent of a painful groan. He'd helped deliver a few difficult births, but none had been horses. Still, he hated seeing the pretty mare in such obvious distress.

"How long has she been like this?" Jensen asked softly so he wouldn't frighten the animal.

Padalecki jerked his head up, but recovered quickly. "Saw a hoof about fifteen minutes ago, but no matter how hard she tried, the foal wouldn't come out. I got her to stand so the foal slipped back in but I couldn't get my hand in to check the position."

Jensen didn't like the helpless frustration in the rancher's voice. "I'll try."

Before Padalecki could argue, Jensen opened the stall door and entered. The straw was damp beneath his feet.

"You ever done this before?" Padalecki demanded.

"I've delivered a few," he replied vaguely, hoping it wasn't too different from delivering a human baby. He removed his shirt and tossed it over the rail, then pushed up his undershirt sleeves. After dousing his arm in the water pail, he knelt on the straw behind the mare. "Try to keep her calm," he said.

After a moment of hesitation, the rancher started speaking in a low, soothing voice as he smoothed his hand down her neck over and over. As soon as the mare seemed to relax, Jensen took a deep breath and eased his arm into the birth canal. It was a tight fit, which explained why Padalecki couldn't get his massive hand in. A contraction moved through the horse's channel and he stopped to wait for the crushing constriction to ease. When it did, he continued pushing inward. His fingers touched something and he closed his eyes to picture what he was feeling: a small head, a leg, a second leg. His mind put together the picture.

"The foal's legs are folded up. I'm going to have to push the foal further back in then get the legs lined up to come out first," Jensen explained.

"Hurry. Fancy's getting weaker."

Jensen gritted his teeth and pushed the foal back into the womb with a firm, even pressure. He pushed until his entire arm was buried in the mare's birth canal, then he started to withdraw. Another contraction wracked the mare and Jensen's arm felt like it was in a vise. He counted to keep his mind off the painful pressure, and when it was over, he felt around. The front two hooves were at the mouth of the birth canal.

"The foal should be in position now. I'm going to pull out," Jensen said, gazing at his boss over the mare's swollen belly.

The moment Jensen had his arm out, Fancy's side rippled and her legs extended as she had another contraction. Kneeling and sitting back on his heels, Jensen spotted a hoof, followed closely by a second.

"Got two hooves showing," Jensen said, keeping his voice calm even though his heart raced. Another contraction and the legs came followed by the head. "You're doing just fine, Fancy."

The mare nickered weakly as if she understood but her next contraction didn't expel the shoulders as Jensen had hoped. She'd used most of her strength earlier. He shifted so he could take hold of the foal's front legs and pulled downward, toward the mother's feet. Jensen moved again so he could get a better grip of the slippery legs and one more contraction brought the newborn tumbling into his lap. Quickly but carefully, he tore away the whitish sac that encased the newborn and wiped away the slimy gel from the foal's nostrils. The tiny horse took its first breath and Jensen's own lungs expanded in a huge sigh of relief.

A hand on his shoulder startled Jensen and he found Padalecki hunkered down next to him.

"We need to get her so she's resting on her chest with her front legs out in front of her," Padalecki said. "She can breathe easier that way."

Working together, the men gently resituated the foal from Jensen's lap to a pile of relatively dry straw near its mother. The umbilical cord still kept mama and baby connected.

Jensen and his boss got to their feet and slowly retreated from the stall. Jensen washed his hands and arms in the bucket of water but couldn't do much for his undershirt and pants where he'd held the foal. Dirty clothes seemed a small price to pay for a healthy young horse.

He stood beside Padalecki, both watching the mare and her filly.

"Thank you, Jensen. Without your help, I probably would've lost them both." Padalecki's sincerity was evident in his choked voice.

Satisfaction and gratitude formed a lump in Jensen's throat, but he said in a gruff voice, "I'm just glad everything worked out."

A small affectionate smile tugged at Padalecki's lips. "She’s not just any old foal. She's the fourth foal to come from Sami, our Arabian stallion."

Jensen wasn't unfamiliar with Arabian horses. One of his fellow medical students had come from a family that bred them with Thoroughbreds. "How'd you end up with an Arabian stallion?"

"About ten years ago, Pa helped out a man named Keene when he brought back a small herd from overseas. In exchange, Keene gave him one of his colts." Jared shifted, resting a booted foot on a slat. "Pa didn’t care for raising horses. After the war started, Pa was figuring on selling Sami."

"Why didn't he?"

"His heart gave out. And with Jeff gone, the ranch was my responsibility."

Fancy struggled to her feet and the cord broke, severing the foal from the mare. The new mother began to clean her filly with tender strokes.

"I didn't think she'd get up so fast after the tough delivery," Padalecki said.

"A mother's instinct," Jensen commented, although his mind was still on what Padalecki said about his father wanting to sell the stallion. "So why didn't you sell the stud?"

Padalecki turned away from the stall's occupants and looked at Jensen. "Pa and Jeff thought the money was in cattle, but I always liked to work with horses. If--when--I get the debts paid off, I'm going to sell off enough cattle to buy some more horses for breeding stock."

"You going to raise full-blood Arabians?"

The rancher rested his forearms on the stall's top rail and clasped his hands, his gaze moving back to Fancy and her newborn. "Not Arabians. A cross between Arabian and quarter horse. You get the cattle sense of a quarter horse with the endurance from the Arabian side."

Jensen rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "The offspring would probably be smaller than the quarter horse but larger than the Arabian. Sounds like you've been thinking about this for awhile, Padalecki."

"Call me Jared." He ducked his head, his cheeks flushed. "To me, diversifying makes sense. You've heard the old saying about putting all your eggs in one basket. Well, same goes for ranching. If cattle prices fall or if there's a bad winter, I'll have the horses to keep us from going under."

Jensen blinked, surprised by Padalecki's--Jared's--insight. Jared might've had the responsibility of a ranch and his brother's family thrust upon him, but he had a level head on his shoulders. Suddenly aware of how close he and Jared stood, he shifted until he couldn't feel the warmth of Jared's arm.

"So, what do you do besides get drunk and start fights?" Jared asked in a conversational tone.

Jensen tensed, then sneered. "Who says I do anything else?"

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Think what you want." He grabbed his shirt he'd removed while helping with the foaling. "You need any more help here?"

Jared shook his head.

Jensen grunted then strode back to his room where he changed into clean clothes. He sat in one of the rocking chairs and curled his fingers around the armrests that had been worn smooth and shiny by other hands. Trying to keep his mind occupied, he tried to imagine those men who'd worked here before him. He doubted any of them had been doctors.

His hands began to shake and his brow grew damp with sweat. He suddenly craved whiskey with a potency that had him on his feet and stumbling toward the door before he could even think it through. He pressed his palms and forehead against the door, and despite the warmth of the room, shivers wracked his body.

No, he'd made a promise. No whiskey. Even if the memories threatened to drive him insane.

And Jensen was afraid the distance to insanity was growing shorter every day.

*

The next morning Jared yawned as he entered the house and set down a pail of fresh milk in the kitchen. He'd been up most of the night with Fancy, staying with her and her filly to make sure the mare's afterbirth was expelled. The loss of sleep had been more than worth it. Although without Jensen's help, he wasn't sure the story would've had a happy ending.

He ruffled Austin's hair as he down at the table across from the boy. "Mornin', short stuff."

"Uncle Jaaaaarred." His nephew ducked away, but grinned as he shoved an entire flapjack into his mouth.

"Austin Jeffery Padalecki," Sarah said sternly, glaring at her son. "I taught you better manners than that."

"S'ry," he mumbled through his mouthful, although the mischievous twinkle in his eye belied his apology.

Hiding a grin, Jared turned and dropped a kiss on Abby's soft crown. "Sorry I'm late. Fancy had some trouble birthing so I was with her most of the night. Didn’t want to chance losing one of Sami’s foals.”

"Is Fancy okay?" Austin asked, his young face alarmed.

"Fancy and her filly are doing just fine, thanks to Mr. Ackles."

There was a soft knock at the back door. "Come in," Sarah called out.

Jensen removed his brown wide-brimmed hat as he entered, looking more like a shy boy than a man a few years older than Jared. "Mornin'," he said with a stiff nod.

"Good morning, Jensen," Sarah said. "Sit down and fill a plate. I'll get you some coffee."

Jensen's face appeared pale and the freckles across his nose and cheeks stood out more prominently. For a moment, Jared wondered if he'd found some alcohol somewhere, but when Jensen walked past him, there was only the clean smell of soap and the man's own masculine scent.

The hired man sat down gingerly, as if he were intruding on the family. Wanting to make him feel more comfortable, Jared slid a couple flapjacks and a thick slice of ham onto his plate. "Dig in."

Jensen gave him a curt nod.

Jared took three of the large fluffy pancakes and a piece of ham for himself then set the platter back in the center of the table.

Sarah set a steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of Jensen. "Here you are, Jensen."

"Thank you," Jensen murmured.

Sarah sat back down. "Jared said we have you to thank for saving Fancy and her foal."

Startled, Jensen glanced at Jared then looked away. "I got lucky."

"That was more than luck," Jared said.

Jensen ignored him. Shrugging inwardly, Jared poured blackberry syrup on his flapjacks then passed it to Jensen, and began eating.

"That's almost the last of the smoked pork," Sarah said. "Do you think Mr. Lawrence has more?"

Jared mentally added another task to his increasingly long list. "I can't go see him today. There's too many other things that need doin'," he said more sharply than he intended.

They had to get the fence done at Christo Canyon so the cattle could be rounded up, or he suspected Grainger and his group of ex-soldiers wouldn't balk at trespassing on Bar P range to rustle the mavericks. And he wouldn't put it past Grainger to scatter Padalecki cattle, forcing Jared to spend time he didn't have looking for them.

Sarah laid her hand on his. "I'm sorry, Jared. I wish there was more I could do to help."

Jared withdrew his hand and patted the back of hers, regretting his impatience. "I'm sorry. It's not your fault. You already do more than enough around here."

He continued eating, too aware of Jensen sitting across the table from him. The hired man wasn't a talker and was as prickly as a porcupine, but his calm, soothing assurance with Fancy and her foal earlier that morning told him Jensen wasn't nearly as callous as he acted. In fact, Jared found himself liking Jensen despite his abrasiveness.

As soon as Austin was done with his food, he asked, "Can we go see Fancy and her foal?"

"Me, too," Abby piped up.

"You need to ask your mother," Jared replied.

"As long as you don't forget to gather the eggs when you're done," Sarah said.

"I won't," Austin promised.

"All right. But first you take your sister and wash off the syrup on your hands and face."

The boy scrambled off his chair then helped his sister down. He tugged her out onto the porch where the pitcher and basin sat. Jared noticed Jensen's small smile as he watched the children go.

"I wish Jeff were here," Sarah said.

Surprised by her unexpected comment, Jared said, "We all do, but he's gone."

"I know you're doing your best, but it's just that Jeff always seemed to know what to do." A tear rolled down Sarah's cheek. "I miss him."

Jared dropped to a knee beside his sister-in-law and gathered her in his arms. She'd been strong for the children's--and his--benefit since learning of Jeff's death, but there were so many uncertainties as they struggled to hold on to what they had.

Jensen stood abruptly. "I'll be out on the porch," he said, heading to the door.

Jared wanted to follow him, but concentrated on Sarah. Her sobs eased and she shifted in his arms. A moment later he felt the press of her lips against his neck and he jerked away. "What're you doing?"

Sarah's tear-streaked face was red, but she lifted her chin defiantly. "Kissing you."

Jared scrambled up and took a step back. "Why?"

"Because we're going to be married in less than three weeks and we haven't even kissed."

Jared had expected the marriage to be in name only, done for propriety's sake. "It just seems so soon after Jeff..."

"He left a long time ago. Even though I hoped and prayed that he'd come home, I think I always knew I'd never see him again." She used a handkerchief to wipe her tear-stained face then met his eyes. "Jeff and I always hoped to have a passel of kids. Don't you want children, Jared?"

So much for a marriage of convenience. He had no desire to share a bed with a woman, much less have children of his own. "I already think of Austin and Abby as my own."

Sarah nodded. "They are in name, but most men want to have children of their own."

Jared shrugged helplessly. "It never mattered to me." Uncomfortable with the conversation, he rose and grabbed his hat. "I'd best take the kids out to see Fancy so Jensen and I can get to work."

Jared stepped out onto the porch and found Jensen kneeling in front of Abby, gently wiping her hands dry with the towel. Austin was by the basin, washing his own hands.

"Uncle Jared," Abby shouted and bounded over to him. "Mr. Jensen helped me get all clean."

Startled, Jared arched an eyebrow at the hired man. "Did you thank him?" he asked his niece.

Abby ran back to Jensen and placed a small hand on his knee. "Thank you, Mr. Jensen."

The hired man's cheeks reddened but his green eyes lit with a smile. "You're welcome, Miss Abby."

Jared's breath caught at the transformation from the bitter Jensen Ackles to this warm, gentle man. So the brother Rose had described truly did exist beneath the standoffishness.

Austin held his hand out for the towel.

"Did you use lots of soap?" Jensen asked.

Austin nodded and the hired man gave him the towel. Jared wondered how Jensen had gotten his nephew, who thought soap was akin to a rattlesnake, to scrub clean with it.

"We're ready, Uncle Jared," Austin said.

Jared chuckled. "Let's go then."

Abby tugged on Jensen's shirtsleeve. "You wanna see the baby horse, too?"

"I wouldn't miss it," Jensen replied, giving the girl a wink.

She grabbed his hand, wrapping her small fingers around his little finger, and pulled him along. Then she took hold of Jared the same way with her other hand and skipped between the two men. Austin scampered ahead with Sadie and Harley.

"Still think she's shy?" Jared asked Jensen with a grin.

"I think you're going to have your hands full with her."

"Going to? Already happening."

Jensen chuckled and Jared wanted to make him laugh more often in that low, husky tone.

Jared had cleaned out the wet straw and afterbirth from the stall, so there was only the clean scent of hay and horses as they approached. Austin and Abby gripped the wooden slats and peered through them at Fancy and her spindly-legged filly.

"Pretty baby," Abby cooed.

"You're a baby. That's a foal," Austin corrected in a big brother's superior voice. Abby's face lost its animation and her lower lip quivered.

"Don't tease your sister, Austin," Jared chided his nephew, then softened his tone as he laid a hand on his niece's thin shoulders. "It's both a baby horse and a foal, Abby-girl."

Her uncle's assurance brightened her face and she stuck a tongue out at her brother, who rolled his eyes.

"Can I pet her?" Austin asked.

Jared shook his head. "Not yet. Maybe in a couple of days when she's a little bigger."

Standing between Jared and Jensen, the children were content to watch the horses through the rails.

"Did you get back to sleep this morning?" Jared asked Jensen.

"No." The sullen attitude that had disappeared around the children seeped back into Jensen's tone, telling Jared to tread carefully.

"Neither did I. I stayed with Fancy to make sure she and the filly were all right," Jared said.

Jensen merely grunted.

Just when he thought Ackles was becoming more human, he started acting like an ass again. Jared reminded himself that Ackles was hired to work, not to be his friend. "Why don't you hitch up the wagon while I take the kids back to the house? I'll be out in a few minutes and we can load up the fence posts and shovels and get to work."

"You're the boss."

Jensen left without another word. Shaking his head at the man's mercurial moods, Jared herded Austin and Abby out of the barn and back to the house. He grabbed some lunch and a couple canteens filled with water, then went out to join Jensen.

Using a shovel, Jensen tossed dirt into the hole around the wooden post even as his shoulders and back declared their displeasure. As a doctor he'd put in more than his share of long hours, but since the war had ended, he'd done more drinking to forget than actual working. But four days of physical labor had pretty much sweat out all of the alcohol he'd ingested over the past months. It didn't stop the whiskey cravings, but they were weakening. It was only those times when the memories hit him like a steam engine that the craving damned near sent him fleeing back to town.

He gave the post a tug, threw another shovelful of dirt around it then tamped the soil down with his boot. This time the post held tight.

Jensen leaned against it, and gave himself a few minutes' reprieve from the backbreaking work. Jared had told him he had an errand to take care of and sent him out alone to continue the fence mending. Although he and Jared didn't talk much while they worked, Jensen still found himself missing the man's company. He suspected Jared wasn't normally so quiet, since the young rancher was much more animated around his niece and nephew.

However, Jared's relationship with Sarah was harder to figure out. They were getting married yet they didn't act like a courting couple. He didn't doubt Jared loved his sister-in-law, but it didn't seem like the kind of love a man had for his intended. And why did Jensen care that Jared might be marrying out of a sense of responsibility rather than love? It wasn't any of his business.

Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply of the sage-rich scent on the breeze. Fresh air untainted by blood or putrid weeping wounds or bowels loosened by dysentery. When he'd joined the Army as a doctor, he'd been so confident he could make a difference, but there had been so many...and he'd failed them. He'd let those boys who hadn't even begun to live, to die.

Jensen's lungs felt like he'd breathed in crushed glass and he opened his eyes, surprised to find the land blurry through moisture-laden eyes. He bowed his head and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, blinking rapidly to stop the tears before they could escape. His breath was harsh in the silence as he struggled to re-bury the damning memories. It seemed to take longer and longer to regain his composure after the increasingly frequent episodes.

Finally, left with only a lingering sense of melancholia, he straightened and saw a plume of dust growing larger as it neared. Jensen edged closer to his gun belt, which hung from a post and eased the revolver out of the holster. Holding the weapon close to his leg, he hoped he didn't have to use it. But he'd seen too many hard-edged ex-soldiers with no remaining home or family who'd fallen to thieving and worse. And even though Jensen was a doctor, he wouldn't hesitate to defend himself. He still had McKenzie to take care of, whether she wanted his help or not.

Keeping his eyes narrowed, Jensen watched tensely as the horse and rider coalesced ahead of the dust. When he recognized the now-familiar figure, his shoulders slumped in relief as he slid the Colt back in its holster.

Jared reined in his sorrel mare beside the buckboard wagon and dismounted. His gaze swept across Jensen and his eyes widened in concern. "You all right? You're white as bone."

"Fine." Jensen turned away to snag his canteen and take a long draught, not caring that the water was warm and brackish. He removed his bandanna from his neck and wiped it across his damp brow. Not all the sweat was from the hot sun.

When he turned back to his boss, Jared was still eyeing him like he was afraid Jensen was going to disappear or drop dead. Maybe both. "I said I was fine," Jensen growled.

Jared's eyes slid away like he was embarrassed to be caught staring. He loosened his saddle cinch and dropped the reins so his horse could forage. Removing a pair of gloves from his back pocket, Jared pulled them on his large hands. "Anybody come by?"

"No. Expecting someone?"

Jared shrugged. "Who'd want to come out here?"

Jensen frowned. He had a feeling Jared was hiding something from him. But then, he was probably hiding a lot from him. Jensen was only here because he'd rather not spend the next few months in a jail cell.

"I had to ride over to the neighbor's to see if he had some smoked pork," Jared said off-handedly. "Got some, but not as much as usual. Since the war ended, he's lost some pigs to drifters."

"Ex-soldiers?"

Jared nodded, his lips pursed in anger. "You'd think all they'd want to do is get back home, but instead they ride through the countryside, taking what they want from hardworking folks."

Suddenly the thought of Jared protecting his family and facing those hardened men alone made Jensen's insides shudder. "Have you had any trouble?"

"Nobody's shown up at the house. We've probably had some cattle stolen, but it's hard to tell. Haven't had a decent tally since before Pa passed."

Jared stepped to the back of the wagon, hefted a wooden post onto a broad shoulder and picked up a shovel in his free hand. He carried it to the next busted post in line and dropped it on the ground before he spoke again. "That's why this round-up is so important. There's a lot of Bar P cattle out there that aren't carrying our brand. With the war over, there's men that won't let property boundaries stop them from taking what ain't theirs."

"The sheriff--"

"The sheriff has enough to do in town with men getting drunk and starting fights."

After being sober for four days straight--the longest dry period in weeks--Jensen accepted Jared's blunt rebuke with a pang of regret. He opened his mouth to speak, but the sight of Jared's shoulder and arm muscles flexing beneath his faded and worn shirt stole his thoughts. His gaze slid downward, to the trousers that curved enticingly around Jared's backside and molded to his thighs. It'd been a long time since he'd looked at a man's body that wasn't covered with blood from a gaping wound or bloated from some sickness. Even longer since he'd looked at a man's body and felt a shiver of attraction. But even if Jared was inclined, Jensen had his own set of principles, and they included never getting involved with a man who was promised to a woman.

Jensen turned away and picked up his shovel.

*

"You ready for a break?" Jared called out a couple of hours later.

"I could use some water." Jensen plucked his sweat-soaked shirt away from his back.

Jared unscrewed the top of his canteen, tipped it up to his mouth and tilted his head back, revealing the long line of his neck. Jensen's traitorous gaze followed Jared's Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down with each swallow.

Jared held out the canteen. "Here."

Jensen accepted it and took a long swig. He didn't think about Jared's lips touching it moments before or the slight taste of something that wasn't the metallic tang of the canteen.

"Where'd you go to college?"

Jared's unexpected question startled him and a mouthful of water went down the wrong way, sending Jensen into a coughing fit. He braced his hands on his thighs as he leaned over. A moment later he felt a wide hand pound between his shoulder blades.

Jensen's fit eased and he straightened, too aware of Jared's hand still resting on his back. It should've made him uncomfortable, but instead he wanted to lean back, wanted to simply savor the touch of another man, even if it was simply camaraderie. He forced himself to take a step forward and immediately missed the warmth.

"Drank too fast," he said without looking at Jared. Then his stomach growled.

Jared arched an eyebrow. "Or maybe your belly wanted food instead of water. Let's have something to eat."

Jensen took a deep breath and followed him to the buckboard wagon. He lowered himself to the shaded ground and sat cross-legged a few feet from his boss. Jared reached into a cloth bag and pulled out some pieces of bread and cheese, which was their usual meal while out working. He handed the bag to Jensen, who also took some of each, then set the bag on the ground between them.

Jared leaned against a wagon wheel and popped a piece of cheese in his mouth. "You didn't answer my question. Where'd you go to college?"

Jensen nibbled on the bread as he enjoyed the relatively cool air on his sweaty skin. "How do you know I did?"

Jared shrugged. "The way you talk sometimes. Makes me think you're an educated man."

Jensen was silent for a moment, trying to decide whether to lie or not. He mentally shrugged and figured it didn't matter one way or another. "Chicago."

"I wanted to go to college. Maybe not as far away as Chicago, but I was hoping Houston," Jared said with a wistful smile.

"What happened?"

"By the time I'd worked up the courage to talk to my folks, the war had started and I knew there wasn't a chance in hell of leaving. But even if the war hadn't happened, I'm not sure Pa would've let me go." Jared stared out across the rolling hills, dappled with shadows and sunlight from the fluffy white clouds passing overhead. "He always said the ranch was enough for a Padalecki. For my brother, it was."

"It sounds like you didn't have much of a choice."

"Story of my life." Jared's twisted smile looked wrong on his face.

"If it's any consolation, even when you make your own choices, they don't always turn out like you figured."

Jared tilted his head to the side and his sweat-damp bangs fell across his forehead. "Oh?"

"Maybe someday I'll tell you a story about a man who only wanted to help." Jensen smiled without humor and pushed himself upright. "But not today."

*

Later that day after dusk Jensen removed his work gloves to find bloody blisters on both hands. He wasn't surprised. His gloves had finally worn through, leaving no protection for the skin beneath them.

Jared reached for Jensen's wrists and before Jensen could pull away, he turned his hands to examine the oozing blisters. "Damn it, Jensen. You should've said something."

Puzzled by Jared's concern, Jensen eased out of the other man's grasp. "I've had worse. They'll be fine."

Jared didn't look convinced and Jensen had to wonder why he was so worried. Was he afraid he'd lose his hired man for a few days?

Jared's stomach took that moment to growl and Jared pressed his arm to his belly even as he smiled sheepishly. "I'm still a growing boy."

"I hope not," Jensen exclaimed.

Jared threw back his head and laughed, an infectious sound that made Jensen laugh harder than he had in months. "Ma used to say it was a blessing their third child was a girl 'cause it was hard enough feeding two growing boys."

"What's your sister's name?"

Affection softened Jared's hazel eyes. "Megan. She's a couple years younger than I am. Got married not long before Pa passed. They moved to San Francisco right after they were hitched. I miss her, but I'm glad she got away from the war." He looked at Jensen. "What about you? Any family besides Rose?"

"Didn't Rose tell you?"

"No. I didn't even know she had a brother until the other day."

Jensen frowned. Despite Rose's claim that she didn't blame him or their older brother Josh for her situation, a part of him wondered if she was angry with them for deserting her. "We have an older brother," he said quietly. "Our parents are dead."

Jared nodded somberly, and Jensen was relieved when he didn't ask any more questions.

*

The two men tossed their shovels into the empty bed of the buckboard wagon then climbed up into the box wearily. Jared took the reins while Jensen slumped on the wooden seat. Although Jared, too, was exhausted, he was buoyed by the satisfaction of having gotten so much done in the days since Jensen had started working. It would've taken Jared at least two weeks to fix the fence by himself. But with Jensen's help, they would finish tomorrow.

Jared didn't push the horses, letting them pick their way across the uneven ground in the waning light. He turned his head slightly toward Jensen, who had his arms crossed and his chin resting on his chest. A soft snore told Jared the man must've fallen asleep as soon as they started moving.

Jared furrowed his brow in concern. Ever since the first night when Jensen had helped with Fancy's foaling, he always seemed to be awake early in the morning. He'd taken to milking the cow and gathering the eggs before eating breakfast with them. Jared had told him he didn't have to do either, but he'd only shrugged and said he was awake anyhow. So why did he wake? God knew he worked hard enough to exhaust himself.

The evening was silent as he drove, broken only by the clop of the horses' hooves and the occasional yip of a coyote. They were within a mile of the ranch when Jensen began to shift restlessly. At first, Jared thought he was waking but one glance at his closed eyes told him he was still fast asleep. Jensen muttered unintelligibly and his movements became more pronounced.

"I'm sorry. No. No, I--" Jensen murmured in a broken voice.

Unwilling to let the man remain in the throes of a nightmare, Jared gave his arm a slight shake. "Jensen, wake up."

His eyes flew open and his gaze darted about wildly. "More casualties?"

"What?" Jared asked, bewildered.

Jensen blinked and finally focused on Jared. He scrubbed his hands across his face and Jared had to wonder if he did it to hide whatever lingered from his nightmare.

"Sorry. Must've been dreaming," Jensen said with a nonchalance that was obviously feigned.

"You said something about casualties."

Jensen turned away from Jared but not before he noticed Jensen's pale complexion. "I don't remember. We almost back to the ranch?"

Although disappointed that Jensen didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth, Jared respected him enough to let him have his diversion. "Over the next hill."

Five minutes later Jared reined in the horses by the corral. As Jensen unhitched them from the wagon, Jared unsaddled his mare and gave her a rubdown. When he was done, Jensen opened the corral gate and Jared ushered her inside with the other horses.

Sami trotted over and nudged Jared's shoulder with his nose. Jared smiled and rubbed the stallion's muzzle. "Hey, how ya doin', fellah?"

Jensen held out a gloved hand. Sami sniffed it, then dipped his head to allow Jensen to pat his gracefully arched neck. "You're a pretty boy, aren't you."

"You shouldn't say that in front of him. He already thinks pretty highly of himself."

"He has a right to."

Jared huffed in exasperated amusement, and gave Sami's velvety nose one more affectionate rub. "Let's go eat."

They walked up to the porch and took turns washing in the basin. As Jared wiped his hands, he heard Jensen's sharp intake of breath and remembered his broken blisters.

"Best get those taken care of." Jared handed Jensen the towel. "There's some liniment and bandages in the house."

Jensen nodded and carefully blotted up the water around the open sores.

The door opened and light splashed out onto the two men. Sarah stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on the apron she wore around her slender waist. "How's the fence coming?"

"Should finish it tomorrow," Jared replied.

"That's real good." She paused and a sad smile tipped her lips. "Your pa and Jeff would be proud of you."

Even though it was Sarah saying the words, Jared felt grateful. For all that the Padaleckis liked to talk, it had been tough for his father and brother to express their feelings.

"I kept your plates warm by the stove," she said.

"Jensen has to get his hands looked to first," Jared said.

Alarmed, she looked at Jensen. "What happened?"

"They're fine," the hired man argued.

Jared rolled his eyes. "They're not fine. Broken blisters. We'll need the liniment and bandages."

Sarah moved back into the kitchen, and Jared ushered Jensen in ahead of him.

"Sit down, Jensen." Sarah set a wooden box filled with a couple bottles and a roll of bandages on the table.

"Yes, ma'am," Jensen said meekly.

Jensen eased himself down on a chair. Sarah clasped Jensen's hands to examine them and Jared noticed the man's discomfort.

"I can take care of it," Jared offered.

"Don't be silly. Women are better at this kind of thing than a man," Sarah said. She sat down next to Jensen. "Please bring me a pan of warm water, Jared."

Exchanging a helpless look with Jensen, Jared did as his sister-in-law bid. He set the pan on the table between them.

Jared picked up the plates wrapped in cloth and kept warm in a corner by the stove and set them on the table. He filled two glasses with water from the pitcher, then sat down. However, he was reluctant to eat in front of Jensen who had to be as hungry as he was. So he watched Sarah clean Jensen's hands, or to be honest with himself, he watched Jensen while Sarah cared for the weeping blisters.

Jensen kept his eyes aimed at his hands and remained quiet except for a near-silent hiss when Sarah started her ministrations. Jared knew Sarah was a beauty, even after bearing two children. For as long as he could remember, she turned men's heads--had seen men admire her, had seen men become stuttering idiots around her, and had seen men ogle her with blatant lust. However, he didn't think he'd ever seen a man like Jensen, who showed no interest at all in her. Maybe he was worried Jared might be offended.

Sarah blotted the water from Jensen's hand. "You never told us where you were from, Jensen."

"Galveston," he replied.

She smoothed liniment over the open sores, causing Jensen's jaw muscle to clench. "So what brings you all the way out here?"

Sarah was too close to learning the real reason Jensen was working on the ranch. Jared spoke up, keeping his voice light. "We should just be thankful he came along when he did. Besides, I'm sure he just wants to eat then get some sleep."

"I am pretty tired," Jensen said, sending Jared a grateful look.

Sarah nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry. Just let me finish wrapping your hands." Once she was done, she said, "Be careful with them tomorrow."

"I will. Thanks."

"Well, go ahead and eat," she said, her eyes twinkling.

Jensen didn't need any more encouragement and immediately picked up his fork. He was surprisingly adept with it in spite of the bandages wrapped around his hands.

Sarah rolled up the unused bandages and put them and the liniment in the wooden box then placed it back in the cupboard. "I'm going to check on the children then go on to bed. Could you clean up the kitchen when you're done?"

Jared nodded. "I'll take care of it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Jared. Jensen."

Once Sarah was gone, Jared found himself ravenous. He scraped his plate clean, then leaned back in his chair, comfortably full. He was surprised to find Jensen already done and simply watching him.

"Do I have food on my face?" he asked, half joking.

"No. You mind if I ask you a question?" Jensen asked, his tone serious.

"Sure. I might not answer."

Jensen tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Fair enough. If you don't love her, why are you marrying her?"

Out of all the questions Jared imagined Jensen might ask, that wasn't one of them. He chuckled weakly. "It's that obvious, huh?" He took a deep breath and considered not answering, but for some reason, Jared wanted to tell him at least part of the truth. "Jeff and Sarah got hitched when I was fourteen years old. She was a few years older than me so I never really thought about her other than like a big sister. But with Jeff gone, and Sarah's folks in Colorado, it's either marry her or never see Abby and Austin again."

"Do you want to marry her?"

Jared gritted his teeth and decided to give an honest answer, rather than the answer everyone expected. "No. I never planned on getting hitched at all."

The way Jensen studied him, Jared was scared he could see what he hid deep inside him.

"I have to, Jensen." For some reason, Jared felt like he had to justify his decision to the hired man, who was turning out to be much more than he'd first thought. "I love Austin and Abby. If I have to marry their mother to keep them close, then I'll do it. Besides, Sarah's a good person. She's a hard worker and a great mother. Most men would consider me damned lucky to get her."

"I understand why you're doing it, but isn't there some other way? It doesn't seem right," Jensen said.

"There are a lot of things that aren't right. It wasn't right for my folks to die. It wasn't right for Jeff to get killed in the war. It's not right that your sister is working in a saloon." Jared shrugged. "It's just the way it is."

Jared might not like a lot of things, including the sympathetic look Jensen was giving him, but that didn't mean he'd shirk his duty. And if he thought of marrying Sarah as a duty, that was for no one but himself--and now Jensen--to know.

Saturday was a scorcher but Jared and Jensen worked through the mid-afternoon finishing the fence repairs. When they were finally done Jared removed his hat and drew his forearm across his brow, where his hair was plastered with sweat. Despite the heat, Jared grinned with a sense of accomplishment. "Damn. I can't believe we're done."

Jensen removed his sweat-soaked bandanna and wiped it across his face and the back of his neck. Although he appeared beat, he also had a look of satisfaction. "My shoulders and back are sure as hell glad."

Even though Jensen always wore a hat, the sun had brought out the freckles across his nose and cheeks. Jared was rather fond of them, but since he didn't want his ass kicked by his hired man, he kept his mouth shut.

"I gotta admit I'd be more than happy not to have to use a shovel or carry posts for awhile." He watched Jensen remove his gloves, revealing bandaged hands. "How're the blisters?"

"Sore, but no fresh blood. Thanks for the gloves."

Jared tucked his own gloves into his back pants pocket. "Pa had smaller hands than me and Jeff. Figured they'd fit you okay."

There was at least five hours left of daylight, enough time to take the wagon back to the ranch, get their horses, and start gathering cattle into the canyon. However, Jared figured they deserved a few hours off for working over twelve hours a day for the past week to get the fence done. "I could use a cooling off. How 'bout you, Jensen?"

Jensen glanced down at himself and wrinkled his nose. "Hell yeah."

Jared chuckled and climbed up into the wagon. "I got the perfect place."

Jensen clambered up after him and as soon as he was up, Jared flicked the reins on the team of horses. The two men smelled pretty ripe and he suspected Sarah would appreciate it if they washed the stink off before they returned.

"Where are we going?" Jensen asked.

"When Jeff and I were kids we used to sneak away on hot days and go swimming." A sharp jab of grief stung Jared and he swallowed hard before he could speak again. "It's those times I miss the most."

"You're lucky you had that with your brother," Jensen said. "Josh and I weren't very close. He liked going out with his friends to drink, gamble, and whore all night."

"You didn't?" Jared asked, surprised. Considering how he and Jensen had met, Jared had figured he did his share of hell-raising.

Jensen chuckled, drawing Jared's eyes. "I know you probably find this hard to believe, but I never used to drink much. Didn't even like the taste. I spent most of my time reading. Josh used to tease me. He could be pretty cruel about it." Jensen gazed into the distance. "Even though he was the oldest, Father wanted me to take over the shipping company."

"Your family owns a company?"

"Owned," Jensen corrected. "A dozen boats, but lost most of them and their cargoes to the blockade. The company went bankrupt."

"Damn," Jared said softly. "Is that why Rose..." He trailed off, suddenly embarrassed. "Sorry. It's none of my business."

"Let's just say I let her down at the worst possible time," Jensen said quietly.

How had he let her down? He seemed so devoted to her.

"It must've been hard on you, too, after you were figuring on taking over the company," Jared said after a few minutes of silence.

"I never wanted it. I wanted to do something on my own. I didn't want to step into my father's shoes."

"Like I did," Jared said with a hint of self-reproach.

Jensen shifted on the buckboard seat so he could look directly at Jared, his brow knitted in concern. "Do you hate the ranch that much?"

Startled, Jared shook his head. "I don't hate the ranch. I just wish I could've made my own decisions instead of having them made for me."

"So, if you had a choice right now, what would you do? Would you go off to college?"

Jared thought for a moment. "A few years ago, I would've said yes. But now"--he shrugged--"now, I want to raise horses but keep enough cattle to build the herd for Austin. The ranch'll be his someday."

"What if you and Sarah have a son?"

Jared tightened his hands on the reins. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't imagine consummating their marriage, much less Sarah carrying his child. But how did he dare confess? He'd already told Jensen more than he'd told anybody except Rose, but to tell another man of his perversions? No, he couldn't. "The ranch would be divided by however many sons there might be. It'd only be fair."

Jensen grew quiet and Jared had the odd impression he was disappointed.

"There it is," Jared announced five silent minutes later.

The surface of the large pond was a reflection of the sky, a warm, inviting blue that promised cool water. Jensen groaned in ecstasy. "Looks like heaven."

Jared laughed. "Or at least as close as a person can get." He drew the horses to a halt in the shade of one of the cottonwoods beside the water's edge and set the brake handle. "Last one in gets dunked!" He jumped off the wagon seat.

"What are you, five?" Jensen grinned and quickly tugged his shirt off over his head.

The two men dropped their clothes in a haphazard trail leading to the pond and splashed in at the same time, wearing only their drawers. Diving below the surface, Jared rinsed off the sweat and dirt on his skin. He swam underwater for a ways before coming up for air and slicking his soaked hair back from his face. Jensen was only a few feet away, his green eyes glittering with pleasure and Jared suspected his own expression was blissful.

"I won," he crowed, lunging toward Jensen.

Jensen tried to dodge away, but Jared grabbed hold of his shoulders and pressed his head down under the water. Jensen wriggled out of Jared's grasp and broke the surface, then wrestled Jared beneath the water. Jared's head popped up and he swam after Jensen, his long muscled arms giving him the advantage. Jared caught up and they tried submerging each other, but neither was too determined, so instead they ended up splashing around like kids.

Finally they ended their mock fight and panted for breath. With only a couple feet separating them, Jared had no trouble counting the sun-darkened freckles across Jensen's nose and cheeks. He kept his hands underwater, his fingers curled into fists so he wouldn't do something foolish like trace each freckle or skim his fingers across his smooth, wet chest. He lifted his gaze and it collided with Jensen's, whose eyes were mostly dark pupil surrounded by a thin ring of green.

The first time Jared had been attracted to a man, he was thirteen years old--it was how he knew he wasn't quite normal. Over the past eight years, he'd come to terms with wanting men instead of women, but none of those previous attractions had been as overwhelming as this magnetism that pulled him toward Jensen. He was more than grateful the water covered the evidence of his arousal.

He licked his suddenly dry lips and was shocked to see Jensen's eyes following the path of his tongue. God, what if Jensen was like him? Was that why he was indifferent to Sarah's beauty?

Sarah. He wouldn't cheat on her.

But I'm not married to her yet.

He moved toward Jensen slowly, barely rippling the water's surface. Their eyes locked, and Jensen leaned forward, lifting a hand out of the pond as if beckoning him nearer. Jared drew closer, his heart thudding against his ribs. He should stop. Get out of the water and away from temptation, but his body had its own agenda.

Jared halted in front of Jensen, pressed his palm lightly against the man's chest and felt the rapidfire beat of his heart, an echo of his own. Jensen's eyes widened, but he didn't draw away. Nor did he punch him. Instead, Jensen's fingers slid over Jared's water-slick arm, curled around his bicep, and reeled him in until their hips, thighs, and legs pressed together.

The thin drawers did nothing to cover Jensen's hard length that throbbed against Jared's. Jared bit the inside of his cheek. Jensen was obviously interested, but Jared had learned the hard way that he couldn't take anything for granted.

"Is this all right?" he asked, his voice husky with suppressed desire.

Jensen stared at him, like a deer caught in a rifle's sights. His lips were sun-chapped, but still so damned tempting. Then his tongue darted out and slid across those full lips as he nodded.

Jared's taut muscles released, and his palms curved around Jensen's jaw, tilting his face upward and leaning in to taste his lips. Jensen met him, his mouth crushing against Jared's, and when Jared's tongue sought permission to enter, Jensen opened without hesitation. The hired man wrapped his arms around Jared's waist, pulling their chests together as they kissed.

Jared chased the intoxicating taste of Jensen, fought to hold himself in check, but his body had been touch-starved for too long. He rolled his hips against Jensen's but it still wasn't enough, so dragged his hands down Jensen's flanks and around his ass, cupping the firm flesh. Jared groaned as the friction grew almost painful, but it was a pain tempered by flashes of blinding pleasure.

The slick slide of their lips mirrored the press of their bodies. Jared heard their moans but couldn't distinguish his from Jensen's. It'd been far too long. He couldn't hold back and his release ripped through him. He tore his lips from Jensen's and tipped his head back, moaning his ecstasy. He felt Jensen's teeth at his throat and another inexorable wave of pleasure flooded through him. Jensen's body stiffened and this time it was his warmth spilling between them.

Jensen dropped his head and Jared rested his chin on his damp hair. They held tight to one another as their hearts thundered together and they panted raggedly. Beyond the sated hunger, there was a tenderness and comfort between them that Jared had never experienced with another man. But then he'd only had a handful of quick anonymous encounters in alleys behind saloons, nothing like this thing between him and Jensen.

Jared didn't think of Sarah or the ranch or any of the responsibilities that balanced precariously on his shoulders. Instead, he shut his eyes and savored the closeness of Jensen's firm body, the muscles under smooth skin that he'd admired as they'd worked side by side. Jensen's warm breath ghosted across his throat and his hands brushed in a slow rhythm across Jared's lower back.

It was Jensen who fractured the precarious peace. He eased away and the icy water filled in the empty space between their heated bodies. Jared instinctively reached out to pull him back, but reality returned with the subtlety of a charging bull. This could be nothing more than a dalliance before he hitched himself to a woman.

Jensen lifted his head and the mix of emotions in his eyes nearly undid Jared's tentative control. The hired man opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut again. What could he say? What could Jared say?

Jensen turned away and dived beneath the water, swimming away. Jared wanted to follow, wanted to get his hands on him again, hold him again, and kiss him again. He wanted so much more than he could ever hope to possess. Marrying Sarah meant losing Jensen. But if he didn't wed her, he'd lose Austin and Abby.

Once more, Jared had no choice.

*

Jensen kept his mind blank as he pulled his clothes on over his wet drawers. In the summer heat, the layers would dry quickly. Once he was dressed, he headed back to the wagon and climbed up into the box. Jared joined him a few minutes later, his broad-brimmed hat covering his wet hair as well as shading his expression.

The ride back to the ranch was a quiet one and Jensen wished there was something he could say to take away the awkwardness. But what did a man say to his boss after he'd kissed him and rubbed against him until they'd both spilled their seed?

"I'll take care of the horses," Jared said when they stopped at the corral. "Go on to the house and have Sarah rewrap your hands."

The thought of being in the same room as Jared's intended after what he and Jared had just shared made Jensen's belly churn with guilt. "They'll heal better in the open air." Besides being a good excuse, it was also a fact.

For a moment, Jensen thought Jared was going to press the issue, but instead the rancher said, "You're done until Monday morning so you're free to go see your sister."

Although Jensen hadn't planned on riding into town until Sunday, he figured it might be best for all concerned to get as far away from Jared as he could. He sent Jared a nod then headed for the barn. Once inside his room, he removed the wet bandages from around his hands, shaved, and donned his last set of clean clothes. After clapping on his hat, he headed back to the corral to saddle his horse. Only to find Jared tightening the cinch on Lexie's saddle.

"You didn't have to do this," Jensen said.

Jared dropped the stirrup into place and turned to Jensen, his nostrils flaring slightly as his gaze roamed across him. Jensen froze, willing his body to ignore Jared's hot gaze.

Jared jerked his attention away and dug into his pocket, drawing out some money. "Here's a week's pay. Ten dollars."

Jensen took it with a nod of thanks.

"You more than earned it. If you come back tonight, breakfast on Sundays is at eight."

"I'm not sure how long I'll stay in town, but thanks." Jensen swung himself into the saddle and looked down at Jared. "Enjoy your weekend with your family."

Jared smiled, but it was a thin shadow of his usual one. "You, too. Say hi to Rose for me."

Jensen nodded. He lifted a hand in farewell then heeled Lexie into motion, her easy gait familiar and soothing beneath him.

"And stay out of trouble," Jared shouted after him.

Jensen lifted a hand, an acknowledgement that he heard, but he didn't turn around. If he did, he was afraid he'd ride right back and drag Jared into the barn to continue what they'd started in the pond.

It was past dinnertime when Jensen arrived in Juniper Wells. He'd spent most of the trip trying not to think about Jared, which only made him think about him more. The only good thing about his inner turmoil was that it spared him from memories of the war.

Jensen's first destination was the sheriff's office. Ryker wasn't there, so Jensen counted out eight dollars, put the money in an envelope he found in the sheriff's desk and wrote a note on it. With two dollars and a few bits to his name, he ambled over to Tate's saloon, leading his mare. He loosely wrapped the reins around the already full hitching post but paused before going inside. He wouldn't blame Tate if he held a grudge. Hell, Jensen had pretty much made an ass of himself with his senseless drinking, then throwing punches when Rose started dancing with one of the customers. One thing was for certain, he'd get no credit from the saloon owner since he already owed him for broken furniture and bottles of whiskey.

Determined to have only a couple of beers and to not punch anyone who looked at Rose sideways, Jensen pushed open the batwing doors. It didn't take long for his eyes to adjust since both inside and outside were the same murky light. Most of the tables were taken, and there was little room by the bar with work-weary men slouching against it and downing their drinks.

He spotted Rose at the end of the bar talking and laughing with one of the cowboys. Reminding himself of his promise, he sauntered to an empty place about halfway down the bar and waited to be noticed. It didn't take Tate long.

"Give me a reason I shouldn't just kick your ass outta here now, Ackles," Tate growled.

As greetings went, it could've been worse. Jensen shrugged. "I don't have one. All I have is my word I won't cause any trouble."

Tate studied him, his eyes narrowed in his round face. He nodded slowly. "All right. For Rose's sake, I'll give you one last chance. You stay outta trouble and you can sit in here all night. You don't, and I'll make sure you stay in jail this time."

It was more than Jensen deserved. "I'll behave. Beer?"

Mollified for the time being, Tate poured him a beer from the tap. He set it down in front of Jensen. "Two bits."

Jensen reached into his pocket and came up with two coins that he dropped into Tate's palm. "Thanks."

Tate gave him one last warning scowl then went to take care of the other customers. Jensen took a sip of the lukewarm beer and nearly spit it back out. He didn't remember the beer tasting like piss, but then he'd been drinking whiskey so he could get drunk faster. For a moment, he could almost feel the burn of the hard liquor on his tongue followed by the comfort of oblivion.

No. No more losing himself in the gauzy cocoon of drunkenness. It was time to stop running from whatever demons bedeviled him.

He spied an open table in the corner and, holding his beer over his head so it wouldn't get spilled, made a path through the crowd. He took a seat with the wall behind him and where he had a clear view of McKenzie as she worked. Reminding himself again that he would only watch and not interfere, Jensen settled back in his chair.

McKenzie spent the next hour taking orders and retrieving drinks for the rough and tumble men. Jensen was surprised to see the genuine, sweet smile she'd possessed since she was a child on her face, and was equally surprised to find the men treated her with deference. Only one obviously drunken customer tried to pat her derriere and McKenzie adeptly sidestepped his hand. By the expression on her face, she was scolding him rather than being frightened and despite himself, Jensen admired her strength and poise. But that didn't mean he approved of his little sister wearing indecent dresses and serving liquor.

When Jensen's beer glass was empty, he lifted it and caught McKenzie's attention. Her eyes widened at the sight of him and she zigzagged through the Saturday night crowd to reach him. She leaned over and hugged him. "I didn't know you were here," she exclaimed.

"Got here a little while ago. Tate let me stay after I promised him I'd be on my best behavior," he said wryly.

She laughed and took a step back to examine him. "Hard work must agree with you. You look a lot more like the brother I remember."

He held up the empty glass. "First booze in six days and it tastes like horse piss."

"And yet you still drank it."

"I figured Tate would throw me out on general principle if I didn't buy something."

She shook her head, but her eyes twinkled with amusement and affection. "I'll get you another beer and let Tate know I'm taking a break. Then you can tell me about your week."

McKenzie brought back a second beer for him and a glass of what looked like whiskey, which was actually weak tea, for herself. "He said I could have fifteen minutes."

"What a gentleman," Jensen said with no small amount of sarcasm.

"He's never made me do anything I didn't want to do," McKenzie defended him. "He takes care of us, kicks out customers who try anything we're uncomfortable with or if they're just plain mean."

"Yeah, he sounds like a saint, all right."

McKenzie merely rolled her eyes. "It's not a bad life. I have more freedom here than I ever had living under Father's roof. Better friends, too."

Jensen hadn't given her a chance to tell him why she'd left Galveston after their father killed himself. When he'd found her in the saloon, he'd been too full of righteous anger to listen to anything she said. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table and clasping his hands. "Tell me what happened, Mac. Why did you leave Galveston?"

She worried her lower lip, full like his, and wrapped her palms around her glass. She stared down at the tea. "After Father killed himself, I was as shocked as everybody else. I tried to find Josh, but he'd disappeared again, probably to New Orleans to gamble. He did that a lot. The day after the funeral, the bank people came with the police and said I had to get out of the house. They gave me an hour to get my things together." She paused, lost in the memory.

Jensen clenched his jaw and wished he hadn't made a promise to stay away from the whiskey, because right now getting drunk sounded like a damned good idea. "I didn't know," he said, knowing how inadequate it was.

"I had no idea where you were or I would've tried to contact you," McKenzie said.

Jensen frowned. "But I wrote you at least twice a month."

Her eyes widened. "For two years, I never heard from you."

Jensen curled his fingers into tight fists. His father...the son-of-a-bitch! "Father must've kept my letters from you," he said in a voice husky with rage.

"I knew he was mad at you, but I never knew why."

Jensen briefly closed his eyes, remembering the fight with his father as if it had been yesterday rather than over two years ago. "I told Father that I thought Texas was wrong in seceding, and that I was going to enlist as a doctor with the Union. I don't know if he was more shocked that I'd argued with him, or the fact I was joining the Yankees. He called me a traitor to the Confederacy, but even worse, he accused me of betraying the family. He told me that if I joined the Union, I wouldn't be allowed in his home again."

McKenzie's eyes glistened. "Oh, Jensen, I'm so sorry."

He cupped her cheek. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm just sorry you thought I'd abandoned you."

She shook her head. "No. I wondered where you were, but I knew you'd never willingly leave me."

Jensen thumbed away the single tear that spilled down her cheek. "Never. I love you, McKenzie. Nothing will ever change that."

"I love you, too, even if you are a pain in the ass," she said with a shaky smile.

"McKenzie Rose Ackles! Such language," Jensen teased, but became serious once more. "So why didn't you stay with one of your friends?"

"I tried, but being homeless and penniless, I wasn't good enough for them anymore." There was an equal measure of hurt and disgust in her tone. "I had no place to go and only fifty dollars to my name. I bought a stagecoach ticket for twenty-five dollars and this town is where I ended up. This was the only job I could get and I accepted it gratefully. I have no regrets, Jensen. None at all."

Jensen wanted to say he was sorry, but he'd said it so often already. And the fact was, McKenzie wasn't upset about her circumstances. She seemed happier than Jensen could remember her ever being.

"Now, I want to hear all about your first week at the Padalecki ranch," McKenzie said. "Did you and Jared make peace?"

Remembering how he and Jared had done more than make peace earlier that day, Jensen's face heated with embarrassment. He ducked his head and scrubbed his nape with his hand. "You were right. He's a good man. Works hard and takes his responsibilities seriously. Do you know his sister-in-law?"

McKenzie nodded. "I've talked with Sarah after church services and she never cared who saw her with me. Jared's mother was the same way, even though I only met her a couple times before she passed."

"I didn't realize you attended church."

She shrugged. "I've never had a problem with God. It's the people who say they're God-fearing who I have the issues with."

Jensen's lips curved upward in a fond smile. "When did you get to be so smart, little sis?"

"I've always been smart. You were just too busy reading your books to notice."

Jensen chuckled.

"So what kind of work do you do on the ranch?" McKenzie asked.

Jensen told her about repairing the fence with his young boss and how they'd be rounding up cattle the following week and branding the mavericks. Then he told her about Fancy and her filly.

McKenzie smiled, but there was a sad wistfulness to it. "I'm so happy you saved them. But you should be delivering babies, and taking care of sick folks, and setting bones. It's what you always wanted to do."

He kept a firm lid on the memories and opened his mouth to reply, but McKenzie stood. "Tate is giving me the evil eye. I need to get back to work if I don't want to lose my job. Are you spending the night in town?"

"Haven't decided yet."

"You have tomorrow off, right?"

He nodded.

"You can sleep on the sofa in my room, then we can go to the picnic tomorrow," McKenzie said.

"Picnic?"

"Before the war, it was the Independence Day picnic. Now, folks just call it the summer town picnic. C'mon, it'll be fun."

Jensen couldn't resist her cajoling smile. "You convinced me." His own smile turned to a wary frown. "You aren't planning on taking any men up to your roo--"

"No," she interrupted, her face turning red. "I only did that once, when I first started here, and honestly, nothing happened. But I thought taking men upstairs was expected of me. Tate set me down and told me it wasn't part of the job unless I wanted it to be."

Jensen glanced at the bartender with a newfound respect. "Maybe he's not so bad," he grudgingly admitted.

McKenzie just laughed. "Do you want another beer?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine right now. But I could use something to eat."

"There's a pot of venison stew in the back. I'll bring you a bowl and some bread."

Jensen's stomach growled in anticipation. "Thanks."

"Be right back."

Jensen watched her weave through the crowd, expertly dodging wandering hands, and for the first time, wondered if maybe he was wrong to take her away from this. She'd grown into a young woman with a mind of her own, able to take care of herself. Maybe he was only being stubborn, clinging to his protectiveness when she'd outgrown it. Perhaps it was time to let his little sister grow up.

Where did that leave him? After the war was over he'd made no future plans, save for finding his sister. Well, he'd found her. Not exactly how he'd pictured their reunion, but she was alive and healthy, so he was more than grateful. There was no chance he'd leave her now that he found her, and he had a debt and fine to pay off. Working for Jared would enable him to pay his debts, and stay near his sister.

You'd also be close to Jared.

Jensen had long ago come to terms with his sexuality. Medical school had led him into a secret circle of other men who shared his proclivities. He'd never wanted for a partner while he lived in Chicago, but none ever went beyond a casual relationship. During the war, he'd had only a couple trysts, but those had been borne of desperation with death and dying surrounding them. When Jensen had gone searching for McKenzie, he had no idea he'd run into someone like Jared, the first man who made him wonder if sharing his life with another man was worth the risk of being found out and lynched. But it was nothing more than speculation since Jared would be sharing his life with a woman. A woman he didn't love.

McKenzie brought him a bowl of steaming stew and two thick slices of buttered bread before his thoughts could depress the hell out of him. He ate the hearty stew and wiped the bowl clean with the bread. By the time he was done, he was comfortably full.

When his sister came back to retrieve his empty bowl, she handed him a deck of cards. "Thought you might like to play some solitaire to pass the time," she said.

He flashed her a smile and she patted his shoulder then returned to work. Jensen set his beer to the side and picked up the cards, running his hands over them before shuffling. Once he was done, he laid them out on the table.

The guttural tone of men's voices, the occasional rise of drunken laughter, and the clink of glass against glass fell into a background hum as he played the game. During the war, the repetition of solitaire had been both a diversion and a time-killer, something Jensen had needed. There had been hours, sometimes even days between battle casualties, which had been spent playing endless games of solitaire in between caring for dysentery, pneumonia and other illnesses among the troops. As the Union started gaining ground and pushing the Confederates, that time between the bloody skirmishes grew shorter and shorter. His solitaire games became precursors to the screams from incoming wounded.

A ten of spades to a jack of hearts.

"I don't wanna die, Doc."

An ace to the top row.

"Tell my Lizzie I love her."

A six of diamonds to a seven of spades.

"It hurts, Mama. Make it stop."

Jensen jumped to his feet and pushed his way through the drinking men to the back door. He barely made it outside before he lost the supper he'd just eaten. Hunched over, hands braced on his knees, he puked onto the hard dusty ground. He heaved until there was nothing but bitter bile coming up and his stomach muscles ached.

Slowly, he straightened and moved away from the mess he could barely see in the darkness. He leaned against the building and wiped clammy sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. The voices of the dead and maimed soldiers were gone once more, but Jensen knew they'd return. The ghosts never left for good.

Once his knees stopped threatening to collapse, he returned to the saloon. He found McKenzie by the bar. "I'm pretty tired, so I'm going to head up to your room if that's all right."

She nodded. "I'll try not to wake you when I come in."

"Don't worry about it. I'm used to sleeping through anything." Or he used to be.

She squeezed his hand. "I'll see you later then."

Jensen climbed the stairs and trod to McKenzie's room, which was at the end of the hall. Once inside, he dropped onto the sagging sofa and tugged the brightly-colored quilt off the back of it to wrap around himself. The quilt was one of the few things from their home in Galveston that McKenzie had brought with her. Their mother had made it not long before she died and it had become a security blanket for the Ackles children whenever they were ill or missing her.

Jensen slouched on the couch, the quilt snug about him, and closed his eyes. He tried to picture his mother, but she'd faded from his memory until he didn't even have an indistinct image of her.

Suddenly Jensen felt like those critically wounded soldiers crying for their mothers...and having no one answer.

"I think we should go," Sarah said at supper that evening after Austin and Abby had gone outside to play.

Jared shook himself out of his Jensen-centered thoughts and focused on her. "What?"

"The town picnic. It's tomorrow afternoon." She rose and began to clear the table. "We can go to church service, then the picnic. It'll be nice to visit with friends and I'd like to talk to Reverend Paulson to make sure everything is set for the wedding."

Jared swallowed hard at the reminder, but could hardly deny her. Besides, Sarah and the kids hadn't been to Juniper Wells since Ma's funeral and it would be good for them to get out among folks.

Jensen was also in town visiting his sister and they might attend the picnic.

"Jared."

He blinked and looked up to find Sarah's worried expression aimed at him. "What?"

"Is something wrong? Your thoughts are miles away."

Jared's face heated with something akin to guilt. He'd been so consumed with his mixed feelings for Jensen that he hadn't been paying any attention to her. "Just tired. It's been a long week," he said, unable to hold her gaze.

Her concern changed to irritation, and it was clear she recognized his partial lie. Nobody in Juniper Wells but Rose knew about him, and that was only because she'd taken him to her room that first night she worked in the saloon. She'd been nervous, and he'd been...uninterested. He'd hoped that maybe he could still sleep with a woman even though he preferred men. His experiment had failed dramatically and they'd ended up playing cards most of the night.

"Shall we go tomorrow?" Sarah asked with a shred of impatience. "If we do, I need to put together a picnic basket."

Jared considered all the work he had to do at the ranch, but Sarah's expectant face and the possibility of seeing Jensen at the picnic tipped the balance. "It'll do us all good to get away for a day."

Sarah's smile lit her pretty face, and if Jared had been a different kind of man, he would've thanked the heavens she was his intended. As it was, he felt only a bittersweet regret. Was it fair to her to enter into a sham marriage? But how could he admit that green eyes, freckles and solid muscles were infinitely more attractive to him than a woman as beautiful as Sarah? When he'd made his decision to marry her, he had every intention of honoring his vows and putting his inclinations aside. But that was before he met Jensen.

"Could you find the children then get them washed up and ready for bed? I'll put up a lunch for tomorrow," Sarah said.

"Alright," Jared said.

He grabbed his hat on the way out the door and followed the sound of laughter and playful barking. He found Abby sitting on the ground with Sadie leaning against her while they watched Austin and Harley dash around. Jared joined in, first racing after Austin, then Harley. Sadie yipped and left Abby's side to dart toward Jared, only to veer away when Jared pretended to grab for her. Abby scrambled to her feet and chased after Sadie.

"Let's get Uncle Jared," Austin shouted to his sister.

Playing with the children and dogs, Jared could forget about his obligation to Sarah and his feelings for Jensen. The laughter rolled out of him as Harley and Sadie chased each other and the kids, and Austin and Abby tried to catch him with their much shorter legs.

When the children were red-faced and panting, Jared pretended to trip and Austin and Abby jumped onto him. Jared tickled first his nephew, then his niece until they were both giggling so hard they could hardly breathe. Finally, Jared lay on his back, flat on the ground with Abby sprawled across his chest and Austin beside him on the ground, his head pillowed on Jared's arm. Sadie and Harley laid down a few feet away, their tongues lolling.

The scents of green grass and soil brought memories of Jared wrestling with his big brother in this same yard. And suddenly it struck Jared that Jeff was truly dead. Just as his mother and father were gone. All he had left was Megan, who was a thousand miles away, and Abby and Austin. There was Sarah, too, whom he cared for a great deal but, God forgive him, he didn't love her like he ought to.

Austin pointed up into the darkening sky. "The first star!"

"Everyone make a wish," Jared said. "You first, Abby-girl."

Abby rolled over on Jared's chest, nearly punching the air from his lungs with her sharp elbows. She looked upward and said solemnly, "I wish Ma wouldn't make me wear icky hot stockings."

Jared pressed his lips together to hold back his laughter.

"I wish--" Austin began then scrunched his face up. "I wish that when I get big enough, I can have the Bar P."

Jared wanted to promise him he would someday, but he couldn't until he was sure it wouldn't be lost.

"Your turn, Uncle Jared," Abby said.

There were so many things he could wish for, yet Jared knew it all came down to one thing. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I wish everyone could be happy."

A white trail arced across the sky.

"What was that?" Austin asked, his eyes wide.

"A shooting star. It means the stars heard us," Jared said softly.

He wished he was still young enough to believe.

*

Jensen couldn't believe McKenzie had talked him into this, yet here he was entering the Juniper Wells Congregational Church. She slipped into a pew near the back, and with hat in hand Jensen joined her. It wasn't five seconds later that the preacher stood at the front with a bible cradled in his arm.

"Welcome, brothers and sisters," Reverend Paulson greeted. "Let's begin by raising our voices in celebration of the Lord's presence among us."

The psalm was well known to Jensen and as he sang he searched the backs of heads, trying to see if he recognized anyone. It took only a moment to notice the tallest person in the congregation. Jared, with Sarah and the children, were in the second row from the front. Austin fidgeted next to Jared, while Abby appeared to be sitting between her brother and Sarah.

The words of the hymn faltered in his throat. They looked like the perfect family: lovely mother, beautiful children, and handsome father. Being in church didn't stop Jensen from remembering Jared's breathtaking expression when his release had spilled between them. At that moment, everything had been so perfect, so possible. But in the cold harsh light of reality, Jensen knew Jared belonged with Sarah and the children. He had no right destroying their family.

The song ended and everyone sat down on the wooden pews. Although Jensen tried to keep his gaze off Jared during the service, he found himself staring at his thick chestnut brown hair that curled over his collar. He'd touched Jared's hair yesterday, but it had been slick with water; now, Jensen reckoned it would be soft and silky across his fingers.

The reverend's voice penetrated his inappropriate thoughts, and Jensen forced himself to listen to his closing words.

"Before we sing our final psalm, I wish to remind the congregation of two upcoming blessed joinings. Next Sunday, William Wright and Miss Ardeth Lawson will be joined in holy matrimony. The following Sunday, Jared Padalecki and Mrs. Sarah Padalecki will take their marriage vows. I hope to see many of you here to celebrate with us. Now, turn to page forty-five for our closing song."

Jensen kept his eyes cast downward as McKenzie found the page in the hymnbook. If he believed in signs from God, he'd have to take the preacher's words as a warning against becoming any more involved with Jared. He moved his lips along with the words to the hymn but his mouth was so dry no sound came out. Finally, the service was over and folks headed to the door.

Jensen stepped out of the pew to let McKenzie precede him, and he hoped they'd go unnoticed. They were down the steps and walking away when Jensen heard a child's voice call out. "Mr. Jensen."

He stiffened, pasted on a smile and turned to see Abby held by Jared, her arm looped around her uncle's neck, as the Padaleckis exited the church. Jared wore a white shirt with a black string tie and brown jacket with tan trousers tucked into black boots, making his long legs appear even longer. Sarah's light blue bonnet with white and yellow flowers matched the dress that hugged her womanly curves. The children were dressed in mini versions of their grown-up counterparts.

Sarah said something to Jared and he nodded then she walked over to speak with Reverend Paulson. Jared and the children kept walking toward them.

"Morning, Rose, Jensen," Jared said with a smile that punched the air from Jensen's lungs.

"Jared," McKenzie returned. "Hello, Abby, Austin. My, you two monkeys have gotten big."

"We aren't monkeys, Miss Rose," Abby stated. "We're people."

McKenzie's eyes danced but she made a contrite face. "My mistake, Miss Abby. You two people have grown so much since last I've seen you. What've you been doing?"

"Austin got all dirty and got in trouble 'cause he got mud in the house. Ma made him scrub the floor," Abby said.

Austin scowled at her. "Wasn't my fault. Ma told me to water the garden so I had to carry pails of water from the well."

"It was your fault you walked right through the wet garden instead of going around," Jared reminded his nephew. Before the children could continue their squabble, he asked, "Are you going to the picnic?"

"As soon as we pick up our basket," McKenzie replied.

If possible, Jared's smile grew even wider. "Sit with us."

Although Jensen liked the idea, he wasn't certain Sarah wanted to socialize with the hired hand and his sister who worked in a saloon. "Will Sarah mind?"

"Will I mind what?" Sarah asked, coming up behind Jensen.

"Um, Mc--Rose and I sitting with y'all at the picnic."

"Of course I wouldn't mind." Sarah let out an unladylike snort. "I've never worried about what other people think. I'm not about to start now." She eyed McKenzie and Jensen. "I didn't realize you two knew each other."

McKenzie arched her eyebrows. "Jensen is my brother." She glanced at Jensen then Jared. "I'm surprised neither of them mentioned it."

"It never came up," Jared said quickly. "Jensen came to visit his sister and decided to stay."

McKenzie didn't even bat an eye at the blatant lie, bless her heart. "It was providence. Jared was looking for someone to work at the ranch and Jensen was looking for a job."

"Worked out for all of us," Jared said, his smile too wide.

Sarah obviously suspected something, but she refrained from pursuing it. "We should probably drive over to the meadow and get a shady spot," she said. "Would you two like a ride over?"

"Jensen and I have to stop at the saloon to get our basket, then we'll walk over," Rose said.

"You and Jensen find us when you get there." Sarah clasped McKenzie's hand warmly. "I'm looking forward to catching up."

"I am, too. We'll see you there."

Jensen wanted to dislike Jared's intended, but Sarah's genuine warmth and extended friendship to his sister made it damned near impossible. Jared swung Abby and Sarah up onto the wagon seat while Austin climbed onto the rear axle and into the back end. Everybody turned to wave before Jared flicked the reins against the horses' rumps.

Most of the churchgoers had already left, and the ones who remained didn't seem interested in greeting McKenzie, although Jensen found a few curious looks aimed his way.

As they strolled down the main street to the saloon, McKenzie asked too casually, "You like Jared, don't you?"

"Like I told you last night, he's a decent boss."

"Mmhmmm," McKenzie murmured.

Jensen had never told his family about his peculiarity, and homosexuality wasn't something McKenzie should even have knowledge of. "What're you getting at, Mac?"

She smoothed a hand down her dark skirt and he noticed her hand was trembling. "Do you like women?"

Her blunt question made his heart skip a beat, then double-time to catch up. He wanted to lie, to tell her that there was nothing wrong with him, that he just hadn't found the right woman yet. But the fact that she'd actually broached the subject meant she wasn't as naïve as he believed. "I like women just fine," he replied noncommittally.

She pressed her lips together. "What if I told you Jared and Sarah shouldn't be getting married?"

Jensen struggled to keep his expression blank. "Why would you say that?"

McKenzie huffed an impatient sigh. "Because it's true. And I think you already know it."

They arrived at the quiet saloon that was closed on Sunday mornings.

"I'll wait out here for you," Jensen said, wanting some time alone.

McKenzie gave him a concerned look then disappeared inside.

Jensen settled in one of the chairs on the boardwalk and tugged his hat low on his brow to shade his eyes. The sun warmed him, turned his muscles into jelly, made him lethargic and lazy, and after his restless night of sleep interspersed with the now-usual nightmares, he should've nodded off. But his mind raced, trying to figure out what McKenzie was insinuating. She obviously knew Jared didn't love Sarah, but how had she guessed Jensen's secret?

Back in Galveston, Jensen had done the requisite dancing at parties, had flirted with all the eligible girls, and charmed their mothers. However, he'd never shown an interest in any of the debutantes. When his schoolmates were bragging about their conquests, Jensen had faded into the background. Had McKenzie picked up on those things and put them together? And if she had, how had she even learned about men like him?

McKenzie's "Wake up!" was immediately followed by a kick to his shins. He tipped his hat brim back and angled a glare at her. "I wasn't sleeping."

She grinned. "Could've fooled me. Here." She held out a wicker picnic basket and the quilt from her room.

He stood, draped the quilt over his arm and curled his fingers around the basket's handle.

McKenzie had changed into a long red dress patterned with tiny white flowers and adorned with lace on the sleeves and down the bodice. She hooked her arm through her brother's. "Perfect day for a picnic," she commented, her lightly freckled face tilted upward beneath a white parasol.

Jensen was grateful she didn't pursue their earlier conversation, but her comment triggered a restlessness, an irritating hum beneath his skin. He shouldn't be enjoying such a peaceful sunny day when so many young men had died far from home on cold, bloody battlefields. Taking a deep breath to dispel the ever-present guilt, he focused on the throng of picnic-goers who walked or rode horseback or trundled in wagons to the picnic grounds. The road opened up onto a wide meadow, which should've been covered with green grass but because of the drought had more areas of brown.

Jensen's eyes widened at the number of people already gathered. "How're we going to find them?"

"Isn't that them over there, in the shade?" McKenzie pointed to a tall cottonwood on the other side of the clearing.

Jensen spotted Jared immediately and the now-familiar warmth suffused him. "Yep. Looks like."

It was another five minutes of zigzagging between blankets, children playing and clumps of adults talking before they reached the Padaleckis. Sarah sat on their blanket with her legs folded demurely to the side. "Spread your blanket beside ours," she said.

Jared, who'd removed his jacket and tie, helped McKenzie with the quilt, one side overlapping with theirs. Jensen set their picnic basket down, while McKenzie sank down next to Sarah.

"Where are Abby and Austin?" Jensen asked.

Jared pointed to a group of children playing with sticks and a hoop. "Austin's over there, and Abby is playing with a little friend a couple blankets over. That leaves us grown-ups some time to actually talk about adult things."

Jensen chuckled and sat cross-legged on their shared blankets. Jared laid on his side facing Jensen, his head propped up by his hand. Jensen's gaze swept over him from his tousled hair down his broad chest covered by the snow-white shirt tucked into his slim waistband, to miles of leg. Jensen's body reacted to the banquet of Jared, and he quickly looked away. However, by the heat in Jared's eyes, the rancher knew exactly what Jensen was thinking.

Then Jared asked him about his evening and the two men fell into an easy conversation that was mirrored by Sarah and McKenzie visiting behind them. Abby joined them about half an hour later, yawning and fisting her eyes. Sarah talked her into lying down for a few minutes, and the young girl fell fast asleep almost immediately.

Some time later, Sarah spoke to Jared, "Could you find Austin? We should eat soon."

"Sure," Jared replied. "Jensen, you want to stretch your legs?"

Jensen shrugged and followed Jared across the meadow toward a large group of children. They'd only gone about twenty yards when a man called Jared's name. Jensen followed the voice to an older man with a beard and bright, intelligent eyes who was accompanied by a handsome woman.

"Doc," Jared said, shaking the man's hand. "Good to see you." He turned to the woman and kissed her cheek. "Mrs. Ferris."

"Who's your friend?" Doc asked.

Jared's face flushed. "Sorry. Doctor Jim Beaver, Mrs. Samantha Ferris, this is Jensen Ackles. He's working out at the ranch."

Jensen shook hands with the woman, then with the doctor. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Beaver."

"Just call me Doc."

"He's dyin'! You gotta do somethin', Doc!"

"Don't take my leg, Doc. I'd rather be dead."

"Doc, wake up! More's been brought in."

"Son, you all right?" Dr. Beaver's anxious question silenced the voices.

Jensen cleared his throat, banishing the strident memories. "Um, yeah, fine. Sorry. Must be tired."

"So what brings you to Juniper Wells?" Mrs. Ferris asked.

Though grateful for her tactful diversion, his tone was defensive. "My sister works at Tate's Saloon."

"Tate's a good man," Mrs. Ferris said. "Makes a mean stew, too."

Jensen laughed mostly in relief and immediately liked the woman.

"How y'all doing?" Jared asked, his gaze jumping between Mrs. Ferris and Dr. Beaver.

He shrugged. "Not bad for an old sawbones."

Jensen noticed the look that passed between the woman and Jared, and figured there was something else going on. But what it was, he had no idea.

"You gonna play some baseball?" Doc asked.

"I am," Jared replied without hesitation. "Not sure about Jensen here. Every year the townsfolk take on the ranchfolk. We haven't won in four years," he explained to Jensen. "You can be on the ranch team."

"Sounds like fun, but I don't have a glove."

"I brought Jeff's. You can use it if you want to join us."

Jensen shrugged. "All right, but I have to warn you that it's been a few years since I've played."

"You can't be any worse than some of the others," Jared said with a wink. He turned to Beaver and Mrs. Ferris. "We're under orders from Sarah to find Austin, so we'd best get going. We'll see you later."

Jensen lifted a hand in farewell and rejoined Jared as they continued on to track down Austin.

"So what's going on with the doctor?" Jensen asked curiously.

"What do you mean?" Jared didn't meet Jensen's gaze.

"There was something between you and Mrs. Ferris, something you didn't want the doctor to know."

Jared sighed. "Last week Mrs. Ferris told me that Doc's heart is ailing. If he doesn't retire, or at least slow down, his heart's going to give out. But he won't do either, says he can't let folks down."

Jensen fisted his hands at his sides as he worked to keep his voice casual. "Sounds like the town needs to find another doctor."

Jared snorted. "Good luck with that. What doctor's gonna want to come live out here?"

Jensen didn't know how to answer that. They walked in silence for a few minutes, shoulders brushing.

"I'm really glad you came to the picnic," Jared said in a low voice.

"Why?"

"I, um, I missed you." Jared laughed nervously. "I know, we just saw each other yesterday, but, uh, I guess I got used to having you around."

Jensen heard what Jared couldn't say aloud and knew he should deny his own feelings, but Jared's honesty didn't deserve an outright lie. "Well, maybe I got used to being around you, too."

Jared's face lit up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He admitted reluctantly, then grinned. "For a cowboy, you're not too bad."

"Can say the same about you, tenderfoot."

The two men exchanged a look that ended with laughter.

The baseball game called for players a couple hours after they'd eaten their lunch. Comfortably stuffed, Jared had been in a light doze with Austin using his chest as a pillow. Abby had fallen asleep with her head in her mother's lap. There had been a steady stream of friends stopping by to talk to Sarah, people who'd been at Jeff's memorial service three months ago, and who now offered congratulations on the upcoming wedding.

Jared was pleased and proud to see Sarah introduce Rose to everyone who came by. Most were fine with her, while a few held to their snobbishness and wouldn't even look at her. He could feel Jensen's anger at those who snubbed his sister, and shared in it, but he was also gratified Jensen didn't lose his temper.

Nobody seemed to find it odd that the Padaleckis, who owned one of the largest ranches in the territory, shared their picnic with their hired man and his sister. But then, the war had changed a lot of things.

"You gonna play or sleep, boss man?" Jensen teased.

Jared opened one eye and tried to glare at Jensen, who stood over him, but suspected he looked more sleepy than indignant. He groaned, waking his nephew who looked around groggily. Jared pushed himself to a sitting position.

"Time for baseball, pard," Jared said to the boy.

Austin blinked away the last of his drowsiness and scrambled up. "You're gonna play, right Uncle Jared?"

"Me and Mr. Jensen."

Jensen held out a hand and Jared grasped it then was pulled to his feet. Jensen released him immediately, but the phantom warmth of his grip remained.

"You ladies coming to cheer for us?" Jared asked Sarah and Rose.

"We wouldn't miss it," Rose said with a saucy wink.

While Sarah roused Abby, Jared reached into their wagon seat and pulled out two fingerless, padded gloves that had obviously been well used and well cared for. He tossed one to Jensen. "Hope it fits."

Jensen pulled it on and held his hand up, grinning. "Like a glove."

Jared rolled his eyes but couldn't contain a mirroring smile.

They all made their way to the baseball diamond that had been set up earlier. Abby skipped between Sarah and Rose, holding their hands and swinging their arms. Sarah's cheeks were flushed, as were Rose's, whose freckles, like her brother's, were more distinct after being outside all afternoon despite her parasol. Sarah caught Jared's glance and smiled at him, the type of smile a woman gave her intended. Unable to return more than a nod, he turned away guiltily.

Jared and Jensen settled Sarah, Rose and the children on a blanket with the other spectators.

"You'll beat them this year. I just know it," Rose said with conviction.

Jared shrugged. "Maybe if Jeff was here...."

"Jeff liked playing ball but he always told me you were better," Sarah said to Jared, a wistful smile on her face.

Shocked, Jared said, "Really?"

"I'm sure he must've told you."

Jared shook his head. "No, he never did," he said, then added wistfully, "I wish he would have."

Jensen clapped him on the back and left his hand there, guiding him to the gathering men.

"I always thought Jeff did everything better than me or anybody else," Jared said in a low voice.

"He was your big brother, Jared," Jensen said. "You looked up to him."

"I used to be so jealous of him." Jared blinked back tears. "But I loved him. I wish I'd told him."

"I'm sure he knew," Jensen said softly.

By the time they joined their team, Jared had regained his composure, thanks to Jensen's steadying presence.

"I knew we could count on you, Jared," Bill Johnson, dressed in a stiff pair of bibbed overalls, said. "Too bad JD ain't here. He always enjoyed a good game."

A few months ago, Jared would've felt a wave of jealousy, but now he only felt regret. "I wouldn't miss it. This is Jensen Ackles. He's my hired man."

"Ackles. Ain't never heard the name before," Tom Renkins commented, squinting at Jensen.

"I'm not from around these parts," Jensen replied with a smile that didn't touch his eyes.

Wanting to spare Jensen an interrogation, Jared introduced him to the eight men, who were a mix of farmers and ranchers.

"We need another player," Johnson said.

The arrival of four more men caused Jared to stiffen. Tab Grainger and his ex-soldier friends.

"Good to have you back in one piece, Tab," Renkins said, shaking Grainger's hand.

"Glad to be back," Grainger said. His gaze found Jared's and his eyes narrowed, but then he was introducing the ex-soldiers.

Jared merely nodded at Grainger's friends. It seemed Jensen picked up on Jared's dislike because he, too, remained aloof.

"He and my brother went off to fight in the war together," Jared answered Jensen's curiosity in a low voice. "Only Grainger came back with three soldier friends."

Jensen's eyes softened with sympathy and Jared let him think that the only reason he was upset was that Grainger had returned while his brother had died. Grainger's threat might have been nothing but a desperate attempt to get at the Padalecki water source, or it might've been a promise. Either way, it was Jared's problem to deal with.

If anybody else noticed there was a coolness between Grainger and Jared, no one mentioned it. Instead, Johnson took the lead by assigning positions for each of the men to play. By the time that was figured out, the town team was ready.

A coin was tossed and their team ended up in the field first. Renkins was pitcher for the ranchers team, a position he'd had for as long as Jared could remember. The first pitch was wound up and thrown to the saloon owner Tate, who swung and connected. The ball sailed past everyone in the outfield.

Jared groaned. It was going to be a long game.

*

Two hours later, it was the bottom of the final inning and Jared stood on first base as wiped the sweat from his brow with his wrist. The town team led 11 to 9, and there were already two outs. Jensen was up to bat with Jared and Flanders, one of Grainger's soldier friends, on base.

Sheriff Ryker wound up with his pitch and let if fly toward home plate. It hit the dirt on the outside of the plate. Judge Murdoch, who had his usual position as umpire, called it a strike. Boos rang out from the ranchfolk but the judge simply ignored them. Jared rolled his eyes, but knew better than to complain. The judge didn't take kindly to protests on the baseball field or in his courtroom.

Ryker sent another ball toward the plate and Jensen swung, only to send it backward as a foul ball.

"C'mon, Jensen, hit the ball!" Rose shouted.

Ryker's attention strayed to Rose, as it had done more than a few times during the game. Emmett was either smitten with Jensen's sister, or well on his way. Jared wondered what Jensen would think if the sheriff wanted to court her. Then he quit wondering anything when there was a solid thwack and the ball went flying over the outfielders. He put his own head down and ran, his long legs eating up the distance around the bases. Flanders crossed home plate, and Jared followed, scoring two runs. He quickly turned around to see the ball being thrown toward the catcher and Jensen bearing down on home with the winning run.

"Slide," Jared yelled over the sounds of hollering and clapping.

Jensen dived headfirst for the base, knocking the legs out from under the catcher as the ball went over his head.

Judge Murdoch scowled. "Safe."

Jared jumped up, his fist raised in victory, then scrambled over to pull Jensen to his feet and wrap his arms around, lifting him off the ground. Dirt covered Jensen from head to toe, but his teeth were a brilliant white as he laughed. Jared angled his head toward Jensen's, only to freeze when he realized what he almost did. He released him and Jensen was quickly surrounded by the rest of the team.

A touch on his arm made him turn to see Austin, Abby, Sarah and Rose gathered close, their faces wreathed in smiles.

"You won," Austin shouted victoriously. "I knew you could do it!"

Jared glanced at Jensen, but could only see his head in the middle of the crowd while he received congratulatory back slaps and handshakes. "Thanks to Mr. Jensen's home run."

"Did he tell you he played on a team while he was in Chicago?" Rose asked too innocently.

Jared laughed, his eyes again flicking to Jensen. "No, but it doesn't surprise me."

He glanced down to see Rose studying him too closely, then noticed Sarah's quizzical expression. "I think this calls for some lemonade and cake," he said a little too enthusiastically.

There were good-natured jostles between folks as everyone got in line for the traditional chocolate cake and cool lemonade. Jensen was already sitting on their blanket when they got there. He stuffed the last piece of cake in his mouth and washed it down with the lemonade.

"Since I made the winning run, Bill said I could go first," Jensen said with a shrug and a slight blush.

Some frosting on Jensen's upper lip tempted Jared to lick it clean. To sidetrack his thoughts, he focused on helping Abby with her food.

As soon as they were done eating, Emmett Ryker joined them. "Afternoon," he greeted.

Jared wasn't surprised to see his attention centered on Rose. "Good game, Sheriff," Jared said.

"Who knew Ackles could hit the ball so well?" Ryker remarked dryly, but there was a note of amusement in his voice. Then he turned to Rose. "Would you like to take a walk?"

Jensen's shoulders tensed, but his expression remained neutral.

Rose's cheeks blossomed with color. "I, uh, would like that, Sheriff, but--"

"We actually need to get started back to the ranch," Jared interrupted. "So if you'd like to take that walk, don't stay on our account."

Rose looked to Jensen, who gave her a small smile and slight nod. "I should be heading back, too," Jensen said. "And I'd feel better if Sheriff Ryker escorted you back to the saloon."

"My pleasure," Ryker said.

I'm sure it would be, Jared thought in amusement.

They walked as a group back to their picnic site beneath the tree. After packing up their things, Rose hugged everyone goodbye, lingering longer with her brother, then left with Ryker carrying her basket and the quilt. Jensen watched them leave, his expression telling Jared he had mixed feelings about his sister and the lawman.

Jared wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "She's as safe as she can be with Emmett. He's a good man."

Jensen's smile didn't touch his eyes. "I know. It's just--" He shrugged, letting the words go.

"C'mon. We have to go back through town, so we'll give you a ride to the livery."

Jared helped Sarah into the wagon, her narrowed gaze making him nervous, then lifted Abby and Austin into the back end of the wagon, where they sat down on the outspread blanket. Did Sarah suspect something between him and Jensen? How could she?

Then he thought of other young couples he'd seen that day, how they held hands and looked at each other like no one else existed. He'd never even considered holding Sarah's hand or sitting close to her. All the food he'd eaten that day churned uncomfortably in his belly.

How did he expect to be Sarah's husband when he didn't even know how to be her betrothed?

*

Jensen hadn't had so much fun since long before the war. The afternoon had been almost perfect, with Jared's company and sharing McKenzie's picnic lunch. The baseball game had topped it all and not just because he'd hit the winning run, but being on the field with Jared, free to watch him at bat and in the position of shortstop next to him at second base.

But now McKenzie was gone with the sheriff, Jared was in the front seat beside his fiancée, the children were sleeping, and Jensen was sitting alone on the wagon's tailgate, his legs dangling off the end. There were a few hours left of sunlight, which gave them enough time to get back to the ranch before full dark arrived.

Suddenly, gunshots exploded someplace up ahead.

"Doc, get down!"

Jensen ignored the shout and grabbed a cloth, pressing it firmly over wound on the soldier's neck. Within moments, the cloth was soaked in red. The wounded man's wide eyes were filled with terror as he stared up at Jensen, and his mouth moved, but only bubbles of blood appeared on his lips.

"You'll be fine. Just hang on, soldier," Jensen said, his voice low and soothing in direct contrast to the frantic beat of his heart.

"I...d-don't...want..t-to die." Then the soldier's eyes went blank and the red bubbles stopped.

Jensen closed his eyes, felt the grittiness of death behind the lids. Another one lost.

A body tackled him to the ground and Jensen fought against the arms holding him.

"Stay down, Doc, or you're gonna get your ass blown off."

But Jensen didn't listen. There were wounded soldiers that needed him. Damn it! He had to get back to work...

"Damn it, Jensen, stop fighting me!"

The familiar voice didn't belong in the dark, bloody morass of war and Jensen fought to find the owner. Cannons and gunshots faded away, and blood and broken bodies disappeared. "Jared?" His voice wavered.

"Yeah, yeah. It's me, Jensen. You back with me?"

Warm hands cradled his face and there was something solid at his back while his front was braced by Jared's sturdy body. "I'm back." Jensen's mouth tasted like bile.

"Are you sure? Do you know where you are?" Jared asked, a hint of panic in his firm yet gentle voice.

Jensen blinked and looked around at his dim surroundings. He was leaning against a post in a shadowy building with the smell of hay and manure. Behind him, stalls held horses, including Lexie. "Livery."

Jared let out a sigh and rested his forehead against Jensen's for precious seconds. "Thank God."

Jensen breathed in the warmth of Jared, felt his presence like a soothing balm. He closed his eyes, recalling his hazy nightmare.... No, he was awake, not asleep. Not a nightmare then. But what?

Jared straightened and he curled his large hands around Jensen's biceps, continued to hold him. "What happened?"

Jensen tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry. "Some bad lemonade?" he attempted to joke.

Jared's lips didn't even twitch. "For a moment, I thought you were drunk, but you haven't touched a drop of alcohol all day. One minute you're riding in the back of the wagon, then some trigger-happy cowboys shoot up the sky and you're running off without a word. It's like you were trying to get away from something."

Jensen's gaze slipped past Jared. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to tell me what's going on."

"I'm begging you, just leave it be, Jared. Please."

Jared studied his face, searching for something Jensen prayed he didn't find. "Did something happen to you?"

Jensen's nostrils flared and he jerked away from Jared, feeling the absence of his touch like an icy breeze. "I said, just leave it alone. I don't need a mother." The hurt in Jared's face nearly undid Jensen's temper. "You'd best get back to Sarah and the kids. I'll get my horse and catch up with you."

Jared remained staring at him for a few moments longer, then spun on his heel and strode out of the livery. Jensen deflated as soon as Jared was out of sight. How did he explain something he didn't even understand? Jensen had been living with the nightmares for months now, but a vivid nightmare while he was awake was even more frightening. Was he losing his sanity? Was he a danger to Jared or Sarah? Or even worse, to Austin and Abby?

Jensen saddled Lexie then led her out of the barn. There was no sign of Jared, and Jensen wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. He stood for a long minute, the reins in his hands, as he debated riding south and not looking back. He could get lost in the brutal Mexican border towns, get drunk on cheap whiskey and never sober up. And if the nightmares and flashbacks continued, he wouldn't care. Nobody would care. Then one day someone would either kill him or he'd simply pass out and drown in his own vomit.

Then he thought of McKenzie, how she'd feel if he simply vanished. What if she looked for him and found him dead in some hellish hole-in-the-wall? Worse yet, what if she went searching for him and was captured by outlaws who would use her until there was nothing left of his little sister?

No, if he left, he'd lie and tell her he was going back to Chicago to work at the hospital. That way she wouldn't come looking for him. But he couldn't do that until he knew she'd stay safe.

Surrendering to the inevitable, he climbed into the saddle and urged Lexie down the road leading to the Padalecki ranch. Not in any hurry to catch up to the wagon, he kept his mare at a walk. He didn't want to see Jared's disappointment in him any sooner than he had to.

"We'll be starting to gather the cattle today," Jared said to Sarah the next morning at breakfast. "I want you to keep the rifle close by."

Sarah paused by the stove where she was scrambling eggs mixed with ham and fresh vegetables from the garden. "Are you expecting trouble?"

"No." Too late he realized he'd replied too quickly. "I mean, I heard talk yesterday that there's men roaming around the territory looking for easy pickings."

Sarah turned back to her cooking. "We've been hearing that since the war ended."

Jared sighed. Even if he told her about Grainger's threat, she wouldn't believe him. She still thought of him as the boy who'd vied for her attention. "Just be careful."

"I will." She scraped the eggs into a big bowl and carried it to the table. "Jensen's still not here. It's not like him to oversleep."

There hadn't been a pail of milk by the door this morning, nor had there been a basket of gathered eggs. At first he'd been afraid Jensen had left overnight, and he'd felt an overwhelming sense of relief when he saw Jensen's horse in the corral as he'd gone out to milk the cow. But still, after Jensen had bolted off yesterday, Jared wasn't sure what to think. "He'll show up."

Sarah brought them each a cup of coffee and set them on the table, then joined Jared. "Something was bothering him last night."

Jared shrugged with forced nonchalance. "He was probably just tired. It was a long day."

"Probably." But Sarah's voice didn't carry any conviction.

Boot heels on the porch followed by a light knock to the door announced Jensen's arrival. Despite his frustration with the man, Jared's heart kicked up a notch at his familiar figure in the doorway.

Jensen hung his hat by the door. "Morning, Sarah. Jared."

"Good morning. I'll get you some coffee," Sarah said.

Jensen took his usual place at the table in silence, which wasn't uncommon. However, he didn't look at Jared once. There were dark circles beneath Jensen's eyes, attesting to a restless night. Jared suspected he hadn't slept well and it was probably related to what had caused him to dash blindly into the livery yesterday.

Jared shivered in remembrance. He'd never seen such stark terror in a man's eyes. Jensen had to be seeing something so horrible in his mind that he'd lost all connection to what was happening around him. What could be so horrific to make a strong man like Jensen tremble like a child afraid of the dark?

"Thanks," Jensen said with a smile when Sarah set a steaming cup in front of him.

They ate without talking, although Jared was aware of Sarah's bemusement as her gaze moved back and forth between the men. It was only after she left to get the children out of bed that Jared spoke.

"We start rounding up the cattle today."

"When do we start the branding?"

"As soon as we get all the cows we can find boxed up in the canyon."

Jensen rubbed the back of his neck. "I have a confession to make," he said hesitantly. "I've never helped with a round-up or done any branding."

After hearing about Jensen's father and the shipping company he used to own, Jared wasn't surprised. "Had you ever fixed a fence?"

"Not much call for fences on a ship."

Jared couldn't help but chuckle. "I suppose not. Well, you caught on fast to digging post holes so you'll catch on to rounding up cattle and branding, too." He pointed at Jensen's empty plate and cup. "You want more?"

Jensen shook his head.

Jared pushed back his chair and stood. "Let's go gather our remuda."

"Remuda?"

Jared plucked his hat off the peg next to Jensen's and grinned at him, feeling some of their easy camaraderie returning. "You've got a lot to learn, tenderfoot."

*

By the time the sun was high in the sky, Jensen had learned there was a hell of a lot more to rounding up cattle than he'd originally thought. First off, Lexie wasn't a trained cattle horse so he had to use Jared's from the remuda--the group of horses the two men used to work the cattle. Jensen prided himself on his ability to ride any horse, but the first time the savvy horse had swerved to cut off a cow, Jensen had almost been unseated. Four hours into gathering cattle, and Jensen had finally learned to anticipate the horse's moves, or at least, to roll with the twists and turns.

He chased three yearlings into the milling herd that was approaching fifty head. The circle of cattle kept increasing with every stray brought in by either himself or Jared. Jensen drew his horse, a black and white paint, to a halt and let it blow, while he pulled his bandana down to breathe air not filtered by the dusty cloth. He removed his hat and wiped his forehead. His hair was soaked from sweat, plastered to his skull beneath the wide-brimmed hat.

Jensen searched for Jared and spotted him coming in with four cows moving ahead of him. Since it was time to change out the tired horses with fresh ones from the remuda, he waited for Jared to join him. With Jared's attention on his work, Jensen could take the time to admire the man's easy grace. As tall as he was, Jared should've looked gangly and awkward in the saddle, but he rocked smoothly, his boots set firmly in the stirrups. One hand firmly handled the reins while the other rested on his chaps-covered thigh. As he drew nearer, Jensen could see he was covered by golden dust.

Jared sent his cattle into the herd and swung his horse toward Jensen. He reined in, lowered his bandana and grinned at Jensen, his teeth a bright white against his grimy face. "So, you like being a cowboy?"

"I'm never going to believe anything I read in a dime novel again."

Jared laughed. "It's going better than I expected, but the first day is usually the easiest."

"This is easy?" Jensen asked incredulously.

"All these cows have been in the open and easy to bring into the herd. There are a lot of more remote areas where the cows probably haven't seen a man on a horse in months. Those'll be the tough ones."

"You're making this job sound better and better," Jensen said wryly.

"Just tellin' ya how it is, tenderfoot."

Jensen merely rolled his eyes, then sat quietly with his crossed wrists resting on the saddlehorn as he watched the cattle. He could feel Jared's eyes on him but didn't turn as he said, "I'm fine, Jared."

"I know. I just worry about next time."

Jensen bit the inside of his cheek, wondering if Jared had read his own mind. "Who says there'll be a next time?"

"Still having nightmares?"

Jensen shot him a startled look, but gave Jared the same consideration the rancher had given him. He nodded reluctantly. "How'd you know?"

"First off, you got circles under your eyes that would make a coon jealous."

Jensen snorted and his lips quirked up.

"Second, I've seen you by the corral hours before sunrise. A man who works as hard as you do oughta be sleeping up until the last minute." The concern in Jared's voice was unmistakable.

"Sometimes a man can rest easier when he's awake," Jensen admitted.

Jared looked down at his gloved hands as he fiddled with the reins. "I'm a decent listener, if you're interested."

"Thanks. Really. But I don't see how talking about it's going to help."

"Never know until you give it a try."

Jared lifted his head and their gazes caught and held, until Jensen's horse pranced restlessly.

Jared cleared his throat. "Reckon we'd best get some fresh mounts then get back to work."

"I reckon."

*

The following days passed in a blur for Jensen as the search for strays continued. Each night he fell into his bunk, exhausted, but four or five--six, if he was lucky--hours later, he'd wake in a sweat from another too-vivid dream. By Friday night, he was past exhausted but his nightmares still didn't give him a reprieve.

Jensen sat up in his narrow bunk early Saturday morning and raked his fingers through his sweat-damp hair. The air was cooler than it had been during the previous day, but he knew the intense heat would return once the sun rose.

He stretched his arms above his head and felt the tug of stiff muscles in his shoulders and arms, but it was pain earned by honest labor. Not like the exhausted, hopeless ache that had dogged him those last months of the war. At least he could be thankful for that. A coyote yipped, followed by a chorus of howls. A mile or two away but close enough to disturb the horses in the corral.

Jensen rose and pulled on his jeans, then his boots and threw on a shirt. When he walked out to the corral, Lexie immediately trotted over to the fence, her cream-colored mane waving like a flag in the dim moonlight. Jensen patted her neck and crooned a few soothing words. She'd been with him for almost a year after wandering into the hospital camp with a deep cut across her shoulder. No one had claimed her so Jensen had cared for the horse's injury and ended up with her by default.

Another horse joined them and, even in the weak light of the crescent moon, he recognized Sami's unique Arabian form. He held out a hand and Sami nuzzled his palm, then snorted.

Jensen chuckled softly and ran his fingers through Sami's mane. "Sorry I'm not Jared. But I've been told I have a gentle touch."

"I can vouch for that."

Jensen spun around to find Jared standing directly behind him. "Geezus, Jared. What're you doing out here?"

"Same as you. Couldn't sleep."

Flustered, Jensen turned away and scratched around Lexie's ears. "You've still got a few hours left to get back to sleep."

"So do you."

Jared's quiet voice sent a ripple of desire down Jensen's spine. "Yeah, well, I really don't want a repeat of tonight's earlier show," he said wryly.

Jared stepped up beside him, resting his forearms on the top corral pole. "I'm still a good listener."

Lexie tossed her head and moved off to join Sami and the other horses that were cropping tufts of grass. Jensen mirrored Jared's stance and considered the man's offer. He hadn't told anyone about the nightmares or the cold sweats, and only McKenzie knew he'd been a doctor in the war and he'd sworn her to secrecy. If folks found out he was a doctor, the next thing he knew they'd be wanting him to treat their ills. But he hadn't touched his medical tools since the end of the war. Maybe telling Jared part of the truth would appease his curiosity, and maybe even give Jensen a little peace.

"I was in the army during the war," Jensen began quietly. There was only a slight hitch in Jared's breathing that told Jensen he'd heard him. "I know your brother died fighting, and I'm sorry, Jared. So damned sorry."

Jared bowed his head silently and the moonlight glinted off his dark hair.

"I saw a lot of men die," Jensen continued. "It didn't matter if they'd been good men or bad men--they all died bloody. And I saw things, Jared, things that I never could have imagined even in my own worst nightmares. Men with chunks of their heads gone but still alive, still talking and breathing. I saw arms and legs in piles taller'n me.

"And the screams... God, I'd heard women scream over a mouse or a spider, but these were men who'd probably never been scared of anything in their lives. They screamed because the pain was so bad they couldn't do anything else. They cried, too. For wives, mothers, fathers, sweethearts, their children."

Jensen swallowed hard and fought the damning moisture in his eyes. "At night, I dream about them. I hear the screams and smell the blood and see the busted up bodies. Every fucking night." His voice broke and he felt a tear's hot trail down his cheek. Viciously, he scrubbed it away.

Hands gently turned him and drew him close. Jared's scent filled Jensen, sending the war's terrors scuttling back into their dark corners. Strong arms encircled him and Jensen wound his own around Jared. Content to simply breathe within the taller man's secure embrace, Jensen sagged against his body.

"I'm sorry," Jared whispered, his warm breath ghosting across Jensen's ear.

Jensen nodded slightly, acknowledging his heartfelt words, but not wanting to break the fragile peace surrounding them. As the nightmarish memories faded away, Jensen became more aware of Jared's hard muscles and enticing scent. And the smooth skin exposed at the base of his throat.

Suddenly needing more than a hug, Jensen pressed his lips against the fluttering pulse in Jared's neck. He tasted the tang of sweat and Jared, an intoxicating mix that heated his blood. Jared's soft moan and his thickening length that throbbed against Jensen brought an answering groan. All the reasons that this was a bad idea melted away and only need and want pulsed within him.

Jensen kissed and licked a line to Jared's jaw, nipping at the stubbled skin. Strong capable hands cupped his face and tipped his head upward. Jared's lips found his and Jensen eagerly opened to him. Tongues clashed then gentled to twining and tasting.

Jared pulled away long enough to gasp out, "Bunk."

Jensen nodded and they could barely separate long enough to take a step or two at a time, but finally they stumbled into Jensen's room. Breathing heavily, Jensen forced himself to retreat a few feet. He licked his swollen lips. "You have to be sure," he managed to say.

Instead of using words, Jared drew his shirt over his head. When his hands went to the buttons on his pants, Jensen answered with his own actions.

*

Jared awakened to the coral glow of sunrise...and Jensen's head pillowed on his chest and his arm across his waist in the too-small bed. Jared had his own arm wrapped around Jensen's shoulders and he gently drew circles with his thumb on Jensen's arm, caressing the sleep-warmed skin.

He replayed their lovemaking in his mind and how the shock of what he'd learned had changed to blinding pleasure. His limited experience included rubbing against another man and touching him, but nothing like what Jensen had done with his mouth. Despite having spent twice earlier, Jared's felt the rise of another round.

"No time."

Jensen's sleep-hoarse voice startled him. "You're awake."

Jensen lifted his head to look at Jared. "Have been. Just waiting for your lazy ass to wake up."

Taking a freedom he never thought he'd have, Jared laid his palm over Jensen's dimpled backside. "Watch whose ass you're calling lazy."

Sultry heat smoldered in Jensen's eyes. "We'll see whose ass is lazy some other time."

Jared barely stifled a gasp at the thought of actually doing what Jensen had described to him a couple of hours ago. Twenty-one years old and he hadn't even realized that was possible. But once in his mind, Jared couldn't forget it. Just the thought of being buried in Jensen's body eclipsed anything he'd ever imagined.

Jensen leaned up to give him a light kiss then threw back the blanket and stood. The combined scents of their release and musky masculinity tickled Jared's nose. His gaze followed the sinewy lines of muscle down Jensen's back, to his rounded ass, and the bowed legs that he loved to watch in action.

Sighing and keeping his gaze averted from Jensen's near-perfect body, Jared quickly found his clothes and dressed. By the time he was done, Jensen was washing his face in the basin on the commode.

"I'll milk the cow," Jensen said.

"I'd best get inside and tell Sarah I was out checking the horses." Jared's conscience stung for the first time, but he refused to let it take away from what he'd shared with Jensen.

On his way out of the bunkroom, Jared captured Jensen in his arms and gave him one last lingering kiss. He strode back to the house, his step lighter than it had been in ages, and washed up on the porch before entering the kitchen. The familiar picture of Sarah cooking at the stove filled him with affection, but nothing more. As beautiful as she was, Jared had no desire to bed her.

"You're up early," Sarah commented as she fried side pork.

"Heard the horses moving around so I thought I'd check on them. Probably just a coyote that got a little close," Jared said.

"Was Jensen up?"

"He's milking Flossie."

"Good. I'm going to have to make butter today."

Jared poured himself a cup of coffee and remained standing. "Are Abby and Austin still asleep?"

She laughed softly. "When have they ever gotten up before seven on their own?"

Jared smiled but it must've been lacking because she asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied out of habit, then chuckled nervously. "Okay, not nothing. There is something I need to talk to you about."

Sarah's brow furrowed. "This sounds serious."

Jared took a sip of coffee to steady his resolve. "It's about our wedding."

"What about it?"

"We never really talked about it. I mean, with Jeff gone, it just seemed like the right thing to do, for the kids and for you. But you're also like a sister and the thought of sharing a bed with you just doesn’t set right with me."

"What about children?"

"We already have Austin and Abby. Them being Padaleckis is good enough for me."

Sarah moved the frying pan to the cool side of the stove and gave Jared her full attention. "I understand your feelings, Jared, and if you don't want to share a bed right away, that's fine. In time, you'll come around."

Impatience made Jared's hand tighten around his coffee cup. "And if I don't 'come around'?"

Sarah abruptly rose up on her tiptoes and kissed Jared on the mouth. It was nothing like Jensen's firm lips and she was missing Jensen's rough stubble that Jared loved to feel against his own face.

She drew back and stared at him, bewildered. "You really don't feel that way for me."

Jared shrugged helplessly.

"If you had a choice, would you marry me?" Sarah asked pointblank.

"I don't want to lose you or the children," he said, knowing it wasn't what she wanted to hear but unable to lie any more than he already had.

She crossed her arms beneath her bosom. "Tab Grainger came calling a couple of days ago."

Anger shot through Jared. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't figure you minded one way or another."

Jared clenched his teeth and fought for calm. "What'd he want?"

Sarah crossed to the window and stared out. "He said his feelings for me hadn't changed, that he'd still be proud to have me as his wife."

Jared's fingers curled into his palms. "What did you tell him?"

"That I was flattered, but I was spoken for." She pivoted slowly to face him. "But now I'm not so certain. I don't want to sleep alone for the rest of my life, Jared."

"What about Austin and Abby?"

"Tab's ranch is only ten miles away."

The thought of Grainger raising his nephew and niece sickened Jared. He breathed deeply to dispel the panic. "He's not the man you think he is. A couple of weeks ago he threatened to come on to Bar P land and put his brand on the mavericks."

She scoffed. "Tab wouldn't do that. He's got enough land that he doesn't need to come on to other folks'."

"We've got the steadiest supply of water in the territory so we draw the cattle. He doesn't like it."

Sarah shook her head. "I don't believe it. You just misunderstood him."

"I didn't. He's always been a bully, and he got meaner during the war." Jared bit his lower lip. "You can't marry him."

Sarah was hard to rile, but once her dander was up, she didn't back down. "You're not my husband yet, so you can't tell me what to do. If I choose to marry him, you can't stop me."

The air was thick enough to cut as Jared and Sarah engaged in a staring contest.

The tense tableau was interrupted by Jensen's arrival with the milk pail. He looked from Jared to Sarah and took a step backward, toward the door. "I can come back later."

Sarah smiled, but it was obvious it was forced. "Don't be silly, Jensen. Grab some coffee while I fry up some eggs."

Jensen did as she said, but his gaze darted back and forth between them. With Sarah's back to them, Jensen sent Jared a questioning look. But Jared could only shake his head, unable to explain with Sarah in the room. They kept their stilted conversation limited to talk about the cattle although Jensen was clearly mystified and concerned.

After eating, the two men headed out to the barn. There were only two stalls occupied by mares that would be dropping foals in the next couple of weeks. Fancy and her filly had been moved out to a smaller corral, separate from the working horses, with two other mother and foal pairs.

Jared and Jensen each led a mare into a clean stall with hay before forking the dirty straw into a wheelbarrow.

"I told her I didn't want to share her bed after we were married," Jared said without preamble.

Jensen froze. "Did you tell her about--"

"No. She would never understand." He shut his eyes in renewed pain. "You remember Tab Grainger, from the baseball game?"

Jensen nodded. "The one you didn't like."

"He's a jackass. But he courted Sarah before she ended up marrying Jeff. He wants to pick up where they left off now that my brother's gone."

"But you and her..."

"She's not sure she wants to marry a man that'd only be a husband in name. If she marries Tab, she'll take the kids and I'll be lucky to see them once a month." He blinked back the burning in his eyes.

"Then you can't let her marry this Grainger."

"But if she doesn't marry me, she's gonna have to leave. Folks have been tolerant of her being alone out here with me after Ma died, but only because there was a wedding planned. But if that doesn't happen..." He shook his head. "Either way, I'll lose Austin and Abby."

"Then you'll have to marry her, and if me being here is getting in your way, then I'll leave," Jensen vowed.

Two long steps carried Jared to Jensen and he gripped the shorter man's shoulders. Just the thought of never seeing Jensen again sent dread curling through him. "No. You can't leave."

Jensen laid his hand on Jared's forearm, his fingers warm and firm against his skin. "I can't promise that," he said softly.

And Jared did know, but that didn't mean he had to like it. "Then don't leave without talking to me first."

"That I can promise." Jensen smiled gently, which made Jared's breath stutter. Even with a few days of golden-brown stubble, Jensen was the most beautiful person Jared had ever seen. Suddenly terrified of how powerful his feelings were for this man, Jared stepped away.

For once, Jared wished he could be selfish and choose Jensen for his own happiness. But if he had to enter a loveless marriage to keep his niece and nephew on the ranch, God forgive him, he would do it.

Jensen readjusted his bandana across the lower half of his face but the ever-present dust still coated his mouth and throat. Even with his felt hat brim pulled low, he had to squint against the sun's brilliance, and he was so dry he couldn't work up enough spit to put out a match. The leather chaps protected his legs, but his pants were drenched with sweat beneath them.

Riding flank, he searched for Jared on the other side of the small herd and spotted him amidst a cloud of dust. Jared caught his eye and lifted a weary hand that Jensen mirrored. It was near dusk but they were almost to Christo Canyon that boxed the three hundred plus head they'd already gathered through the week. With a running stream and abundant grass, the cattle were content behind the quarter-mile long fence he and Jared had rebuilt.

Jared urged his horse ahead to open the gate and Jensen drove in the thirty-some strays they'd found that day. Jared swung the gate shut and slumped in the saddle. Jensen knew exactly how he felt. He tugged his bandanna down and took a long draught from his canteen. A moment later, Jared did the same.

Jared pulled his wrist across his damp mouth, smearing the dust. "That's it," he announced. "Monday we start branding."

"But aren't there more out there?"

"Yep. And if we have time to gather them later, we'll do it. But now we need to take care of what we have and set aside the ones we'll be driving to San Antone at the end of the month."

"You're the boss man."

The two men swung their horses toward home and let the tired mounts pick their own pace. By the time they arrived, dusk had cloaked the land.

"You heading to town?" Jared asked as they stripped off their horses' gear.

Although Jensen was tempted to wait until Sunday to see McKenzie, he figured it'd be best if he gave Jared and Sarah some time alone. He nodded. "You planning on coming in for church service?"

Jared shook his head. "There are things I need to do around the place. Besides, if Grainger comes 'round again, I want to be here. Why don't you have supper before you go?"

"Nah. I'll get some of Tate's stew."

They carried their saddles and bridles into the tack room.

"I'll get your pay," Jared said, not meeting Jensen's eyes.

By the stiff set of his shoulders, Jensen knew he was upset. He wished there was some way they could be together and have Austin, Abby and Sarah stay on the ranch. Right now though, it seemed an impossibility.

Jensen removed his chaps and dirty clothes, then used a cloth and the basin water on the commode to wash. He had to dump out the water three times before he felt anything close to clean. After shaving, he changed into the brown trousers and dark blue shirt that he'd worn last weekend. Feeling human again, he went out to saddle Lexie, who'd spent the week lazing in the corral.

"Here's your pay."

Jensen turned to see Jared, who had also taken some time to wash up, holding out a hand filled with bills and coins.

"Ten dollars," Jared stated, giving the money to Jensen. "See you tomorrow."

He spun around and Jensen grabbed his arm before he could escape. "It's best if I make myself scarce while you and Sarah figure out what you're going to do."

Jared's nostrils flared slightly. "You being here doesn't matter one way or another. She doesn't know about us and she ain't going to find out."

"I'd only be a distraction."

Jared swept his gaze up and down Jensen's body. "A welcome one."

"No. Not while you have hard choices to make."

Jared's expression fell. "It's not fair."

The barn hid them from the house and there was no one else around. Jensen cupped Jared's face in his hands and gave him a short, almost bruising kiss. "No, it's not, but it's all we got. You have to figure things out for yourself."

Jared's hazel eyes shimmered as he stared at Jensen, and finally, he nodded. "All right." Then he took control of Jensen, angling his head to kiss him, this time with a lingering sweetness that nearly stole Jensen's resolve. "I don't want to lose you, but I can't lose the rest of my family."

Jensen pressed his palms against Jared's chest, felt the heavy thump-thump of his heart. "I know," he said with a husky voice. Then he stepped away and mounted up. Afraid to turn around for one final look, Jensen kept his eyes aimed straight ahead as he rode away.

The rocking motion lulled Jensen as he rode through the fading daylight. The week had been a tough one, both physically and mentally, but today had topped it all. From the thrill of having Jared in his bunk in the early morning hours to dealing with Jared's fear of losing his beloved niece and nephew.

Jensen couldn't help but feel responsible. Maybe if he'd stopped Jared that morning before they'd gone to his bunk, he wouldn't have talked to Sarah about his doubts and she wouldn't be thinking about marrying another man. Yet ever since the pond, Jensen had known it would happen again. The draw between them was just too damned powerful to ignore. He was only surprised it took a week before they gave in.

Lexie shied a split second before a man appeared out of the darkness, and Jensen instinctively jerked back on the reins. Lexie reared up on her hind legs, forcing Jensen to grab the saddlehorn. It took him a few moments to get her back under control, and by the time he did, the stranger had his gun leveled at Jensen.

"Don’t try it," the man ordered in a low voice.

Jensen cursed his laxness. Instead of thinking so hard about things he couldn't change, he should've been on his guard. "I don't have much money," he said.

"Don’t want your money."

Confused, Jensen took a closer look at the man. The man was obviously tall, his legs even longer than Jared's, but he was lanky instead of muscular like Jared. A dark heavy beard covered the lower half of his thin face, and his eyes appeared brown or hazel. He held the gun in his right hand and where his left arm should've been, there was an empty sleeve. A former soldier. "Lose that in the war?" he asked, motioning to his left side.

The man's laugh was harsh, rusty. "You don't remember."

Despite the hot summer evening, a cold chill swept through Jensen. "What do you mean?"

"I told you not to take it. When I first woke up, I thought you'd saved it. Swear I could feel my arm, my hand. But when I looked down, it was gone." The man swallowed audibly. "I told you I'd rather die. But you had to be a hero and save my life, leave me only half a man."

The memories awakened, crept their way toward his mind's eye. Jensen tried to ignore their bloody tenterhooks. "Do you know how many men would've done anything to live, even as you put it, as 'half a man'?"

"Then you should've saved them. Not me!"

Anger rose like a dust storm in Jensen. "I didn't give a damn whether you wanted to live or not. I had a duty to save as many as I could. If you didn’t want to be saved, I'm sorry. But I had to." Jensen's voice broke and his fury fled, replaced by soul-deep grief. "I had to," he whispered hoarsely.

As Jensen fought against humiliating tears, the man slowly lowered his gun and slipped it into the holster. For a long time, there was only silence between them.

"I guess we all did things 'cause we didn't have a choice," the man finally said softly, so different than his earlier wrath-filled tone.

Surprised, Jensen blinked to clear his blurry gaze and focused on the man's dim features. The dark eyes no longer burned with hatred, but resignation, and Jensen thought he might recognize them, but the memory skittered away. "That's what war is about," Jensen said. "And I never want to see one again."

"Amen, Doc."

Jensen swallowed hard. He hadn't been called Doc in a long time and it hurt, but in a different way than it had toward the end of the war. A part of him missed it, like this soldier missed his arm. "You should go home to your family."

"They think I'm dead. Besides, my folks passed. My wife's marrying m--another man and my children don't know me. There's nothing left for me."

Jensen drew his hand across his face and leaned forward, toward the ex-soldier. "But she's not married yet, and it's not too late for your children to get to know their father. You can't just give up."

"I'm a cripple. What the hell good am I to them?"

"You're alive! That's all they’ll care about."

The man remained quiet, mulling over Jensen's words. "You were a Yank but you saved my life. And I tracked you down, planned to kill you for taking my arm and not letting me die."

The flat statement startled Jensen. "Why didn't you?"

"I just now figured out that the war hurt both of us." He shrugged and looked away, but not before Jensen caught a shiny glint in his eyes. "Just in different ways."

The stranger's comment held more truth than Jensen wanted to admit. "Please consider what I said. Don't let your family keep believing you're dead."

"I'll think on it."

Jensen let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Thank you."

Before Jensen could ask his name, the stranger touched his heels to his horse's flanks and disappeared back into the night.

Jensen wiped the back of his hand across his damp forehead. He never figured he'd run into someone he'd saved during the war, and he definitely never figured on running into a man who was angry with him for doing so. How many limbs had Jensen sawed off and tossed aside like chopped wood? He hadn't thought about it. Not after the first one. He'd seen too many doctors turn to whiskey or opiates to help them get through the war. Jensen had resisted and shut off his emotions to do what needed doing. It was only afterward that he needed alcohol to dull those feelings he'd buried for so long.

But those feelings wouldn't stay buried. They came out to torture him while he slept and even while he was awake. But how did he let them out without wanting to put a gun to his own head? Maybe he could tell Jared about it. Maybe Jared was strong enough to listen to his confessions, and maybe he wouldn't hate Jensen for not being able to save them all.

Jensen arrived in town as full night fell. Light blazed from the sheriff's office and Jensen steered Lexie toward it. He entered and Ryker looked up from his desk, looking younger than Jensen remembered. "Evening, Sheriff."

"Ackles. Another payday?"

"Maybe I came to see what your intentions were toward my sister."

Ryker's mouth gaped like a fish out of water. "Intentions?"

Jensen kept a straight face. "You went walking with her last Sunday. Seems to me that means you're courting her."

The sheriff's face went from pink to tomato red. "Now see here, Ackles, I wouldn't do anything to hurt Rose."

Jensen lifted his outspread arms. "Never said you would. But despite Rose's job, she's a decent woman and I wouldn't want you taking advantage of her. If you did, well, I'd have to call you out and defend her virtue like a good brother."

A muscle flexed in Ryker's jaw. "I like your sister. A lot. I've, uh, been watching her for some time and I know she's a decent woman. She's also strong-minded, which I admire in a woman. So, well, I suppose, I guess you could say I was courting her." He paused then added quickly, "With honorable intentions."

Jensen let loose his amusement and grinned. "Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

Ryker scowled, realizing he'd been played. "You bring another payment, Ackles?"

Jensen dug into his pocket and counted out five bills and three coins. "Eight dollars, just like last week. I kept two for myself."

Ryker opened the top desk drawer and brought out a ledger. He entered the numbers. "Only one hundred and twenty-four dollars left."

It was Jensen's turn to scowl, but he didn't argue. He'd made the mess and it was up to him to clean it up.

"Heading over to see your sister?" Ryker asked.

Jensen nodded. "Gotta make sure you're treating her right." He winked at the glowering lawman. "See you next week."

As he left the office, Jensen realized he'd forgotten to tell Ryker about the ex-soldier who'd stopped him on the road. But then it wasn't like the man had broken the law, and the ex-soldier had enough problems to deal with.

Voices grew louder as Jensen approached the saloon's batwing doors. Tate had a packed house tonight. His gaze zeroed in on McKenzie who was serving beer to one of the crowded tables in the middle of the room. She was smiling and relaxed, which assured Jensen she was doing fine.

He strode to the bar and elbowed a place for himself. Tate spotted him and poured him a beer from the tap without asking. He set the glass in front of Jensen, who dug into his pocket for two bits.

"On the house," Tate said. "Didn't get to give you one last Sunday after the baseball game."

"But you were on the town team."

Tate shrugged. "Only because I have to be. Good to see the puffed-up banty roosters in town get a comeuppance now and again." He paused then pointed a finger at him. "No brawling."

"Unless I have to fight my way out of one that I didn't start."

Though Tate's face remained bland, his eyes twinkled with wry humor. "Fair enough."

Jensen watched him go then shrugged. "Huh. Maybe he isn't so bad."

"He likes you when you're sober," McKenzie said. She kissed his cheek. "Hi, big brother. Glad to see you made it through another week."

"Same here. You look different. Glowy. Kinda like you did last Sunday when you left with Sheriff Ryker," Jensen teased.

McKenzie rolled her eyes but she couldn't hide her blush. "Have you been over there yet?"

"Yep. Made another payment and I made sure his intentions toward you were honorable."

"You didn’t?" McKenzie demanded, aghast.

"Did," Jensen retorted without apology. "I gave him my blessing, after I threatened to hurt him if he didn't treat you right."

McKenzie's expression ranged from disbelief to amusement to embarrassment. "I'm not sure if I should kick you or kiss you for being such a good brother."

"Knowing you, you'll do both."

"Beers up," Tate shouted over the din.

"Gotta go. I'll stop by when I get a break," McKenzie promised.

Jensen turned around and leaned his back against the bar. Last week he'd been content to drink beer and watch his sister work. Tonight, he felt unsettled and out of sorts. A part of him recognized his disquiet as missing Jared. He'd had bed partners before, but Jared was different. Jared was dangerous. He filled in all the places that Jensen didn't even realize were empty.

*

Jared tossed and turned that night until he finally gave up on sleep a few hours before dawn. From their rugs on the porch, Harley and Sadie glanced up at him and their tails thumped in greeting. Jared gave them each a pat on the head and they went back to sleep.

Chuckling at the lazy dogs, he checked on the two expectant mares, then the young foals and their mothers in the smaller corral. Finding everything peaceful, he curried Sami and Red, his roan mare. As he worked, he kept glancing toward the bunkroom and had to remind himself Jensen was in town. He wasn't surprised he missed Jensen, but he was startled by the depth of the ache.

Their parting words wore on Jared. He knew Jensen was right, but Jared was selfish. He wanted both Jensen, and he wanted Sarah and the children to stay on the ranch. But he didn't know how he could have both.

Since Sarah and the kids slept later on Sunday mornings, Jared had enough time to put in a good supply of wood for the stove. The physical exertion of chopping cleared his mind, but he was no closer to finding a solution when he set the axe down.

Although the morning was relatively cool, he was drenched in sweat. He wandered over to the water pump and primed it a few times before cold water came spewing out. He filled a bucket then squatted down and scooped the icy water onto his face, dripping down to soak his undershirt. Pausing a moment, he listened to the cooing of the morning doves on the barn eaves and the quiet snorting of the horses in the corral.

Suddenly, a sense of unease flickered through him. He straightened and did a slow circuit as he searched for what set off his internal alarm. There was nothing to see, but the feeling of being watched didn't abate. He glanced at the dogs, but they continued to slumber on the porch, unaffected by whatever Jared sensed.

Lexie wasn't in the corral, so it wasn't Jensen. Would Grainger be so brazen as to spy on them? What would be the point? He'd already called on Sarah openly and if he was going to steal cattle from Bar P land, he didn't need to observe the house. Not unless he wanted to make sure everyone was at the ranch instead of working on the range.

The back door opened and Austin came barreling out. Harley and Sadie jumped to their feet, barking excitedly as they followed on the heels of the boy. "Can I milk the cow, Uncle Jared?"

Laughing at the boy's enthusiasm, Jared dismissed his unease. "Do you remember how to do it from last time?"

"Yep," he replied with all the confidence of a precocious six-year-old.

Two hours later, Jared and Austin were stacking the last of the newly chopped wood. Abby was in the shade, playing with a doll Jared's mother had made for her a couple of years ago. Sarah sat in a rocking chair on the porch as she mended clothes, including one of Jensen's shirts.

Jared had tried to gauge her mood that morning at breakfast, but it was difficult with Austin and Abby chattering away like magpies. Sarah didn't act any differently than usual, but without asking her flat out, he didn't know if she'd come to any decision about their marriage, which was supposed to happen next Sunday.

Jared let Austin finish piling the last few pieces of wood and climbed the stairs to the porch. "I'm going to check on the cattle, and maybe I'll get lucky and run across a deer," he said to Sarah.

"It would be nice to have some venison," Sarah said.

"Will you and the kids be all right?"

Sarah lay what she was mending in her lap. "We're alone during the week. What's different about today?"

"It's Sunday. Courting day."

"You're worried Tab will come by."

Jared glanced over at Abby then Austin to ensure they wouldn't hear their conversation. "Should I be worried?"

She licked her lips and gave a little shake of her head. "I don't know yet, Jared."

It was the best he'd get from her and he should be relieved she hadn't given up on them. "Fair enough."

Inside the house, he strapped on his gunbelt with the Army Colt and picked out the Henry repeater rifle from the rack in the office. He filled a canteen at the hand pump in the kitchen, grabbed his hat and went back out.

"Can I go with, Uncle Jared? Please?" Austin begged.

"You'll have to ask your ma," Jared replied, glancing at Sarah.

"All you're doing is checking on the cattle?" she asked Jared.

"Yep. On the way back, I thought I'd follow the stream to the spring to look for deer."

"Then I don't see any problem with Austin going with you."

"Yeeehaaaw!" Austin shouted loud enough to set the dogs barking, which made Abby cover her ears.

Sarah merely rolled her eyes heavenward. "He's all yours, Jared."

Jared threw back his head and laughed. For the first time in twenty-four hours, he was hopeful that things would work out.

Jared lifted the child's saddle onto Molly, a smaller horse that been used to teach Jeff and Jared, and later, Austin how to ride. The placid animal had the perfect temperament for excited children and anxious parents. He let Austin tighten the cinch while he saddled Red.

After ensuring Austin's cinch strap was snug enough, Jared cupped his hands to give his nephew a foot up into the saddle. Beneath his straw hat, the boy's cheeks were flushed with excitement. They rode out side by side and for the first mile, Jared watched Austin closely to make sure the boy remembered the basics. But Austin was a natural in the saddle, just like his father and uncle, and Jared urged Red into a trot, forcing the shorter Molly to gallop to keep up.

Recalling the eerie sense of being observed, Jared kept alert, shifting his gaze from one side to the other of the tan landscape dotted with scrub brush, sage, and rocks. But the only living things he spotted were three jackrabbits, a slow-moving armadillo, and a pair of hawks soaring high above as they searched for their next meal.

A quarter of a mile from Christo Canyon, Jared spotted men on horseback near the fence he and Jensen had so painstakingly repaired and reinforced. He could make out four riders and cold anger whipped through him.

"Austin, this way." Jared veered toward a large outcropping of rocks.

Austin followed him to a hidden place within formations tall enough that Austin and Molly would remain unseen.

"Stay here. Do not move from this place until I come to get you. Do you understand?" Jared commanded.

"Why? What's go--"

"Someone might be trying to steal our cattle. If they are I have to stop them. No matter what you hear, you stay here. Don't let anyone see you."

His face pale and his eyes wide with fear, Austin nodded.

"Good boy. Don't worry. Everything will be fine. I promise." With that, Jared wheeled Red around, pulling the Colt from its holster.

With fury fueling his haste, Jared leaned low over Red's neck as the big horse galloped toward the box canyon. As he drew nearer, he could see the gate was open and cattle were being pushed through. One man remained outside the fence, while three others herded the cows toward freedom.

A full week of hard work by both he and Jensen could be lost in a matter of minutes if Jared didn't do something. Hunching down, he continued his direct route toward the gate as he aimed his revolver skyward and fired off three shots. The few cattle already outside the makeshift canyon corral scattered in different directions. The cows still inside bawled in fear and turned around, retreating back into the canyon.

With smug satisfaction, Jared noted the three horsemen inside the enclosure had to scramble to get out of the way of the stampeding cattle. Before Jared could celebrate his victory, the rustler outside of the fence lifted a rifle to his shoulder. Jared swerved off his course and was suddenly slammed forward over Red's mane.

The hell happened?

It took only a few moments for Jared to realize he'd been shot. His revolver slipped from his numb fingers but he managed to wrap his arms around Red's neck. He could hear men shouting behind him, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. Then the voices and hoofbeats were fading.

Without Jared guiding her, Red slowed to a halt. Jared tried to sit up and the pain that arrowed through his chest and back made him cry out. He managed to lift his left hand and touched his right shoulder. Sticky red blood coated his fingers.

Austin.

He had to get back to his nephew, make sure he was unhurt, but Jared couldn't figure out which way to go. Every direction looked the same through his blurred vision. Trusting Red, he managed to heel her belly and get her walking. Every step jolted his wound, and if it weren't for finding Austin, Jared would wish for unconsciousness to escape the fire talons in his shoulder.

He didn't know how much time passed before he heard the teary voice of his nephew and felt a small hand on his leg. "Uncle Jared, wake up."

Jared blinked and his eyes stung from the sweat that dripped into them. His cheek rested against warm coarse hair and the sharp scent of horse told him he was still on Red. He opened his mouth to answer Austin, but he couldn't get his tongue to move and it came out as a groan. His body seemed bogged down in mud and speared through with arrows.

"Who are you?" Austin suddenly asked, alarm in his young voice.

For a moment, Jared wondered why his nephew didn't recognize him. Then realization struck him. Someone else was here. Someone who might hurt Austin. But Jared's body wouldn't listen to his commands to move.

"I won't hurt you, son," the man said.

There was something familiar about the soft drawl, but Jared's mind only slogged in endless circles.

"He's hurt pretty bad. We need to get him back home, Austin."

"How do you know my name?"

Jeff? But Jeff was dead. Jared had to be feverish. That was the only explanation for hearing his dead brother's voice.

Then Jared lost the battle to hold on to consciousness.

Jensen could barely sit still during the church service. McKenzie glared at him at least three times during the sermon. But the restlessness he'd felt the night before had only worsened until his skin felt too tight and his lungs couldn't get enough air. Something was wrong, and it didn't have anything to do with his nightmares.

After the service was done, Jensen couldn't escape fast enough, and once outside, Ryker made a beeline for them. McKenzie's cheeks grew pink and her smile brightened.

"Miss Rose, Jensen." Ryker greeted them with his hat in hand though Jensen noticed he was gritting his teeth when he said his name.

"Good morning, Sheriff. I didn't see you in church," McKenzie said.

"I sat in the last row. Sure is a pretty day, isn't it?"

Jensen barely restrained an eye roll. He didn't have time for idle chitchat. "If you'd like to take her for a walk, you have my blessing," he said curtly.

"Jensen," McKenzie said, sounding exactly like their nanny when she'd scolded them. She turned a syrup-sweet smile on Ryker. "Would you mind if I spoke to my brother for a moment?"

Ryker shifted uncomfortably. "I reckon."

McKenzie grabbed Jensen's arm and pulled him some distance from the sheriff. "You could at least try to be civil to Emmett."

"It's not him. He's fine. I don't mind if he courts you, as long as he treats you right. It's just..." The thrumming beneath his skin intensified. "I have to get back to the ranch. Go ahead and enjoy your afternoon with Ryker."

"I thought you had Sundays off."

"I do. But I, uh, have clothes to wash," he lied.

"But it's the Sabbath."

"My dirty clothes don't care what day it is."

McKenzie narrowed her eyes. "All right. Will you be back next weekend?" She paused. "For Jared and Sarah's wedding?"

Jensen glanced away at the reminder, fearful his sister would see too much of his feelings in his expression. "I'll be back. I promise." He kissed her cheek. "Goodbye."

"Bye."

Jensen lifted a hand to Ryker, who seemed puzzled by his hasty departure but waved back. With a nod to his sister, he nearly ran to the livery to get Lexie. Once saddled, he mounted up and didn't waste any time leaving behind Juniper Wells.

He was over halfway back to the ranch when he spied a rider coming fast toward him on the road. At first, he thought the tall figure was Jared, but then noticed the empty left sleeve. The ex-soldier. Had he changed his mind and decided to kill Jensen after all? There was no place to hide in the sparse surroundings. Hand on his revolver, Jensen reined in and waited for the man to come to him.

"Doc," the man hollered when he was still fifteen yards away.

Jensen frowned. He didn't sound angry, but fearful. Using his one hand, the ex-soldier sawed back hard on the reins.

"You have to come quick, Doc. My brother's been shot."

Jensen's stomach twisted sharply and he swallowed the rising bile. "I don't practice medicine anymore. There's a doctor in town."

The soldier glared at him, hazel eyes drilling into him. "It'd take too long. He could die. And you don't want that."

The way he spoke, it was like he knew something Jensen didn't. He began to shake his head and the man's hand shot out to grab Jensen's wrist. His grip was shockingly strong.

"I never saw my brother take to anyone like he took to you."

The pieces suddenly fell into place. "You're Jared's brother. Jeff."

"That's right."

"What happened to him?" Jensen demanded, his fear for Jared taking precedence over his surprise that Jeff Padalecki was alive.

"Grainger and those three soldier friends of his tried to take the cattle from Christo Canyon. They shot Jared," Jeff Padalecki explained tersely.

Vertigo struck Jensen and he gripped the saddlehorn. "I-I can't. I haven't...not since the war."

Padalecki's nostrils flared with anger. "You told me you had to try to save lives even if those men didn't want to be saved. Well, you gotta save Jared now, whether you want to or not."

"B-but what if can't? What if he dies?"

"At least you'll know you did all you could to try'n save him. C'mon on."

Jeff wheeled his horse and Jensen, in a fogged haze, followed.

Jared had been shot. For a moment, Jensen wished this were merely another nightmare, or even a hallucination. But the hot breeze in his face and Lexie's surging hoofbeats beneath him were all too real.

Jensen clamped down on his skittering nerves. If Jared's life was in his hands, then Jensen damned well would do the best he could to save him.

"Where's the wound?" he shouted at the ex-soldier. Jeff, Jared's brother, he reminded himself. Sarah's husband.

"Right shoulder. Lot of bleeding."

"How did it happen?"

Jeff's eyes went diamond hard. "Jared rode straight toward Grainger and his rustler friends. One of them shot him." He paused and his eyes softened considerably. "Austin was there, too."

"Is he--"

"Scared, but not hurt. Thanks to Jared." The pride in Jeff's voice was unmistakable.

Relief for the boy swept through Jensen. But then he thought of Jared, and his throat tightened and his vision blurred. He couldn't lose him. Not now. Not when they had a chance.

They covered the distance to the ranch in half the time it normally took. Jensen steered Lexie over to the barn and jumped out of the saddle before the horse came to a halt. He dropped the reins, knowing Lexie would stay close, then ran into the bunkroom. Falling to his knees by his bed, he reached underneath and pulled out a black bag. It hadn't been opened in six months, but he figured it would have what he needed.

"Doc!" Jeff shouted from the barn.

Jensen scrambled to his feet, the bag clutched in a trembling hand. "Coming."

He raced out, and what Jensen could see of Jeff's whiskered face was pale with worry. Jensen figured his wasn't much better.

"Sarry and I got him inside to his bed," Jeff said.

Jensen followed the elder brother into the house, where he was suddenly besieged by Austin and Abby.

"Mr. Jensen. You gotta help Uncle Jared," Austin cried.

Abby wrapped her arms around his thigh as she sucked her thumb, something Jensen had seen her do only when she was overtired or frightened.

Although near-frantic to get to Jared, Jensen took a moment with the children. "I'll do everything I can to make him better again," he said. "Cross my heart."

Austin's lower lip trembled and he caught it between his teeth as he nodded.

"You take care of your sister, Austin, while we take care of your uncle."

Again the boy nodded then wrapped his arm around his little sister's shoulders.

Jensen touched their heads, then followed Jeff to a room that appeared to be the main bedroom. His attention was immediately drawn to the still body, wearing only trousers and socks, stretched out on the bed. Jared was too pale and too still.

Sarah held a towel, stained red, against Jared's right shoulder. She frowned at Jensen, then looked at Jeff. "I thought you were getting the doctor."

"He is a doctor," Jeff said.

"He's right. I am," Jensen said to the confused woman. "I haven't practiced medicine since the war ended."

"But why--"

"You can talk about it later. Jared needs help now," Jeff said. His firm, commanding voice steadied Jensen's nerves and drew Sarah's puzzled attention.

Jensen couldn't tell if she recognized Jeff or not, but he couldn't spare the time to find out.

"Hot water, Sarah. And clean cloths, torn into strips," Jensen ordered. Sarah scurried out to carry out the tasks. He turned to Jeff. "I'll need your help holding him down."

Jeff opened his mouth as if to say something, but abruptly closed it. Good. Jensen didn't have time for self-pity--his or Jeff's. Concentrating on nothing but Jared's well-being, he quickly rolled up his shirtsleeves. He peeled back the blood-soaked cloth from Jared's shoulder and froze at the sight of the still-oozing wound. His hands began to tremble as images of other bullet wounds, bloody stumps, and mangled bodies assailed him. He hadn't been able to save them; what made him think he could save Jared?

"Doc?"

Jensen jerked, startled out of his doubts. He quickly straightened and stepped back, away from Jared. "I-I can't do it."

"You have to," Jeff said impatiently.

"You d-don't understand."

Jeff grabbed Jensen's arm, swinging him around to face him. "Maybe I didn't see all the godawful things you did, but I seen my share of dead men, fellow soldiers--friends--who fought beside me. Nothin' left of 'em but blood and pieces. And I dream about it. The war, the battlefields where the ground was soaked with blood." He shuddered. "So don't you dare tell me I don't understand."

Jensen swallowed hard. "But what if I kill him?"

Jeff glared at him. "The only way you'll kill him is if you just stand there and do nothing." His expression softened and he said in a lower voice, "Damn it, Doc, you ain't the only one who's scared. That's my little brother lying there."

Jensen studied Jeff's pleading expression then shifted his gaze to Jared's wan features. His heart stuttered in his chest and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath. Using the strength of his feelings for Jared, Jensen pushed his fears and memories aside.

He opened his eyes and pulled away from Jared's brother. "Help me turn him on his side. I need to see if the bullet went through."

With Jeff's assistance, he rolled Jared onto his side. There was a smaller hole right beneath his shoulder blade.

"Son of a bitch shot him in the back. Good thing is the bullet went all the way through so I won't have to dig it out. Less chance of getting septic," Jensen said aloud, speaking more to himself than Jeff.

Gently, they rolled Jared back so he lay flat on the bed.

"He lost a lot of blood, Doc." Jeff's gaze was on his brother's pallor.

Jensen nodded curtly. "And there might be some pieces of cloth in the wound so I'll have to clean it good. I'll need more light to make sure I get it all."

"I'll find some lanterns," Jeff said and hurried out of the room.

Alone with Jared, Jensen allowed his doctor's facade to slip away. He brushed Jared's cheek with the back of his hand. "You can't die, you hear me. I don't think I could live with you dying, too." He smoothed Jared's dark, lank bangs back and left his fingers buried in his thick hair, then leaned forward to kiss his forehead.

A cleared throat made Jensen jump back to see Sarah standing in the doorway, a steaming kettle in her hands. His face hot, Jensen motioned to the table beside the bed. Silent, Sarah set the water down on the nightstand. She gazed at Jensen, but there wasn't revulsion, only something he thought might be relief.

"I thought it was another woman, maybe Rose," she said quietly. "But it was you."

Jensen licked his suddenly dry lips but didn't confirm or deny her words.

"He never talked about girls like boys his age did," Sarah went on. "Jeff thought he was shy. But I knew that wasn't it." She worried her lower lip and blinked rapidly against the sheen in her eyes. "He deserves to be happy. Please, save his life and give him that chance, Jensen."

Shocked by her acceptance, Jensen could only nod. Then Jeff returned with two lanterns in his hand and another under his arm. "This enough, Doc?"

Jensen forcibly drew his attention away from Sarah. "That's good. Set them close to the bed."

While Jeff set them up, Jensen dipped his forceps and scalpel in the hot water, then set them on a towel. "Sarah, go sit with Austin and Abby. They need you more than Jared does right now."

"But--" she started to protest.

"Go on. I'll give the doc a hand." Then Jeff laughed wryly, but there was some amusement in the sound, too.

Sarah studied Jeff and the bearded man quickly ducked his head. She turned her attention to Jared. "Take care of him, Jensen."

"I will. Go on now," he said gently.

As soon as Sarah left the room, Jensen turned to Jeff. "She didn't recognize you."

It wasn't a question, but Jeff shook his head.

"You have to tell her."

"I don't know if I can."

"You don't and you're going to regret it for the rest of your life," Jensen said softly but with a thread of conviction.

Then he cleared his mind of everything but the medical knowledge and skills he needed to save Jared.

*

Jensen wiped his hands on the last remaining clean cloth after he was done. Jared hadn't yet regained consciousness, but that wasn't unusual after trauma like a gunshot wound. Besides, Jensen was grateful Jared remained out while he'd cleaned the wound. He didn't know if he could've worked while Jared was aware and in pain.

He gave Jared's bandage a critical inspection. No more blood, but then he'd already lost far too much. Jensen fought a wave of panic at the thought that he'd been too late, that Jared would die despite Jensen's best efforts to save his life.

"Will he make it?" Jeff asked in a low voice.

Jensen took a deep breath, determined to remain clinical despite the worry in his gut. "He's strong and healthy. As long as sepsis doesn't set in, he should recover."

"Thank God." Jeff tipped his head back, closing his eyes. "I never planned on coming back here. I figured they'd come to terms with me being gone and there was no reason to change that. I ain't the same man who marched off to war so proud and cocky."

"No man is," Jensen said. "I didn't fight, but I was the one who had to try to put the soldiers back together again." His gaze turned inward. "I still see what war did to men in my nightmares."

Jeff nodded slowly. "Same here, Doc. Every damn night."

A tentative silence settled between Jensen and Jeff as they watched Jared's chest move up and down with his steady breathing.

"Did JT tell you he wanted to join up, too?" Jeff suddenly asked.

"JT?"

Jeff smiled crookedly. "Jared Tristan, JT. Me, I was JD, Jeffery David."

Jensen nodded at the explanation. "No, he never told me, but I'm glad he didn't."

"Me, too. I don't want him to ever have to see what we had to, Doc."

"Amen," Jensen whispered.

Light footsteps alerted them to the arrival of Sarah. She stood in the doorway, her complexion pale and eyes haunted as she stared at Jeff. "Austin said you knew his name. Knew Jared's, too."

Fear slid across Jeff's face and he looked to Jensen for help, but Jensen only shrugged. The older Padalecki needed to have more faith in his wife.

"Who are you?" Her words were more breath than sound.

Jeff's cheeks crimsoned. "I think you already know. You always were the smart one, Sarry."

Sarah swayed and Jeff rushed to her side, putting his arm around her slender shoulders. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. Jensen could hear her quiet sobs and Jeff's hitching breaths. He turned away, feeling like a voyeur to their emotional reunion.

After a couple of minutes, Jensen heard Sarah ask Jeff about Jared, and Jeff answering her quietly.

"Can you sit with him for a bit while Sarah and I talk?" Jeff asked Jensen.

"Of course. Take your time. I'll be here," Jensen replied.

They left and Jensen pulled his chair closer to the bed then sank onto the hard seat. He gazed down at Jared, feeling the love he tried to deny threaten to choke him. After glancing over to ensure he and Jared were alone, Jensen reached for Jared's hand. He threaded his fingers through Jared's and brought his hand up to kiss the back of it.

"You don't have to get married now, Jared," Jensen spoke quietly. "Your brother's home and he'll take care of his wife and children. You can go off to college, just like you said you wanted to. All you have to do is get better."

Jared's eyelids flickered and Jensen held his breath. Then Jensen felt a weak tightening of Jared's hand in his and the wounded man moved his head as a moan broke through his lips.

"C'mon, cowboy. Time to wake up," Jensen urged, his heart pounding.

Jared shifted and this time his eyes opened. He looked around blankly, then his gaze settled on Jensen and recognition seeped into their hazel depths. "J-Jensen?"

Dizzy with relief, Jensen leaned close and laid his free hand on Jared's head. "Hey there, cowboy. How're you feeling?"

"Like Flossie...k-kicked me in the chest."

Jensen chuckled, but it sounded more like a strangled sob. "No, just a bullet through the shoulder."

Again, confusion filled Jared's eyes but it cleared up slowly. "The rustlers. Tried to steal the cattle." His eyes widened and he tried to sit up but Jensen's hand and a deep groan stopped him. "Austin? Is he all right?"

"Austin's fine. Not even a scratch."

Jared closed his eyes and sagged into the mattress. "Thank God." His eyes flashed open. "Jeff. He was there? He was, wasn't he?" His expression fell. "Or d-did I..."

Jensen laid a hand on Jared's uninjured shoulder. "Easy, Jared." He smiled. "Your brother's alive. He helped Austin get you back here."

Jared blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek. "I want to see him."

"He's talking with Sarah now. You get some rest and when you wake up, you can see him," Jensen said.

Jared struggled to keep his eyes open, but his eyelids drooped and finally closed completely. His deep, even breaths told Jensen he'd fallen into a normal sleep. He clutched Jared's hand between both of his and laid his forehead against them, thanking God for not letting Jared be another man he'd failed to save.

*

Jensen volunteered to sit with Jared the first night and tried not to listen to the quiet thumps and creaks from the bedroom above them. It was obvious when Sarah and Jeff had returned to Jared's room that Jeff's fears had been for naught. Sarah was glowing. There was no trace of pity or disgust in her face. She had her husband back and their children would grow up with both their mother and father. Her deepest wish had been granted and she wasn't going to despair over what might be missing.

Finally, silence filled the house and Jensen relaxed in the rocking chair Jeff had dragged in for him. A lamp was turned low so Jensen could make out Jared's face, but it wouldn't bother Jared's sleep. Just as Jensen's eyes were sliding closed, a young voice whispered, "Can I see Uncle Jared?"

Jensen turned to see Austin in his nightclothes standing in the doorway. "Come here," he said quietly so as not to wake Jared.

Hesitantly, Austin crossed the floor in his bare feet and Jensen reached over to lift the boy onto his lap. For a moment, he thought Austin would think he was too old to be held, but the boy settled right in. Sitting sideways on Jensen's lap and curled into his chest, Austin stared at his uncle.

"Will he be okay?" The boy's voice was small and scared.

"Your uncle is tough. He'll be just fine," Jensen reassured.

"I heard them shooting but Uncle Jared told me I had to hide. Then it was quiet and I waited for Uncle Jared to come get me. He told me to stay put, but I was scared so I went to look for him." He continued to gaze at Jared, his eyes unblinking. "When I saw him, he wasn't moving and he had blood all over his back. I didn't know what to do." A tear trickled down the boy's cheek, but he didn't make a sound.

Jensen hugged the boy close, unable to speak. He just rocked back and forth, the rhythmic motion soothing, as more silent tears coursed down the boy's cheeks. "It wasn't your fault, Austin," Jensen finally spoke in a husky voice. "You did everything right. You listened to your uncle and didn't come out until it was safe. Then you saved his life by getting him back to the ranch."

"That man--Pa--he helped."

"But he couldn't have done it without your help. You saved your uncle's life, Austin, and he'll be so proud of you."

Austin raised his head and tear tracks shined in the lantern's light. "Really?"

"Really."

Austin settled back into his cocoon on Jensen's lap and looked up at Jensen. "Are you a doctor?"

It was a simple, guileless question yet Jensen felt as if his future hung on his answer. "Yes. I was a doctor during the war."

"Pa says you took his arm."

Bile rose in Jensen's throat and he fought the urge to vomit. "Yes. He would've died if I hadn't."

Austin sat in silence for so long Jensen thought maybe he'd fallen asleep.

"Ma said that arms and legs don't make a person, but what's inside them. Is that right?"

Jensen had to cough before he could answer. "I reckon she's got it right."

"I'm glad."

"Why?"

"Because Ma's happy, and me and Abby have our Pa back. Thanks for taking his arm, Mr. Jensen."

Jensen tried to swallow but couldn't manage with the lump in his throat.

Austin wiggled down from his lap. "Goodnight, Mr. Jensen."

"Goodnight, Austin," Jensen barely got out.

He watched the boy skip out of the bedroom, his steps much lighter than when he'd entered.

"You're good with kids."

Jensen snapped his head up to see Jared's eyes open and on him. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough. Water?"

Jensen stood and poured some water from the pitcher into a glass. He raised Jared's head slightly and held the glass to his lips. "Drink slow."

Once the glass was nearly empty, Jensen drew it away and eased Jared's head back down on to the pillow. "No more until we make sure that stays down." He set the glass aside and returned to his chair.

"So you really are a doctor," Jared commented.

Jared deserved the entire truth. "I'd only been a doctor for a year when I joined the Union."

"I don't understand. You're from Texas," Jared said, confused.

Jensen told him about the argument with his father and how he'd disowned his own son for siding with the Yanks.

"But Jeff was a Reb. Why'd you save him?" Jared asked curiously.

"All I ever wanted to do when I was growing up was be a doctor. To help people. With the war, I figured this was my chance to do that, to save lives." Jensen's lips twisted with a cynical sneer. "To be a goddamned hero. Except war wasn't neat. The patients didn't line up in a nice orderly line for the great Dr. Ackles to save them." He sniffed and drew his hand across his nose. "You ever imagine what hell would be like?"

"Sometimes," Jared replied softly.

Jensen's gaze turned inward. "I saw it firsthand. Men screaming, and blood and guts everywhere. Piles of amputated arms and legs as tall as me." He glanced down at his clasped hands. A tear dripped onto his white knuckles. "I did that, Jared. I lost count of how many I cut off. I crippled hundreds of men. But, damn it, I saved their lives.

"It got to where I didn't care anymore if the soldier was a Yank or a Reb, he was a human being. I tried so damned hard, Jared, but so many still died." He paused and gazed at Jared through tear-blurred eyes. "That's why I can't sleep through the night. I see the blame in their eyes and hear them screaming, asking me why I couldn't save them."

Jared reached for Jensen with his left hand. "No, Jensen, no. You can't blame yourself. Nobody could've saved them all. You did the best you could."

"Tell that to the families of those I lost." Bitterness bled from Jensen's words.

"What about the families of those you saved? Like our family. We can never repay you for giving Jeff back to us." Jared paused and licked his lips. "You did that, Jensen. You saved him."

Jensen gazed down at Jared's pale face and saw only sincerity and unshakeable belief...in him.

"Now, lay down beside me and get some sleep," Jared said. "You look like shit."

Jensen's grin was shaky by genuine. "You look in a mirror lately?"

Jared laughed, then groaned as the motion jarred his wounded shoulder.

Jensen removed his boots then carefully laid down next to Jared's uninjured side. Jared turned his head and kissed Jensen. His breath was sour and his lips chapped, but it was the sweetest kiss Jensen had ever received. He curled close to Jared and had a feeling the nightmares wouldn't come tonight.

Jensen had confessed and Jared didn't hate him. Maybe, just maybe, he could learn to forgive himself.

Jared stood by the corral, a booted foot resting on the lowest pole as he gazed out at the horses grazing in the pasture. It was a familiar sight but this morning it felt different, as if he was seeing it for the very first time.

While Jared had recovered from his gunshot wound under the proficient--and intimate--care of Jensen, the two men spent hours just talking. Jared had convinced Jensen to return to what he loved--practicing medicine. It had taken more convincing to get Dr. Beaver to retire and let Jensen take over his practice. The old doc had only relented when Mrs. Ferris threatened to quit working for him. Their wedding had been last week and now they were on an extended trip to visit relatives and friends across the country.

Doc had sold Jensen his place on the outskirts of town, and both Jensen and Jared had spent all their spare time there fixing up the corral and barn so Jared could start his own herd of Arabian and quarter horse mix. He already had a start with the five mares and their foals from Sami, which were already at their new home. Sami would be joining them today.

He sensed Jensen's approach and warmth slid through him as Jensen joined him, butting his shoulder gently against Jared's in greeting.

"Everyone's wondering where you are," Jensen said, a note of concern in his voice.

"Just taking a last look."

"You're only moving a few miles down the road."

Jared shrugged. "It'll be different now."

Jensen glanced down, the brim of his hat hiding his expression. "You can stay here. You don’t have to take care of me."

Exasperated affection filled Jared. Once he had healed enough, he'd moved into the bunkroom with Jensen. In the beginning, Jared had been awakened to Jensen's tortured cries almost every night, but just having Jared with him had calmed Jensen. Now, the nightmares only came two or three times a week. Jared reckoned it would take time, but he hoped that someday the ghosts would finally leave Jensen in peace.

He turned to face Jensen's lowered profile. "First off, we take care of each other. Second, I don't want to stay here. I want to be with you. And third, you'd die of boredom with only yourself to talk to."

Jensen raised his head and a small smile tugged at his lips. "So you're saying you'll save me from boredom with your witty conversations?"

Jared stepped close enough to Jensen that their hat brims brushed. "Well, I wasn't exactly thinking about conversation. I reckon there are other ways to make sure you don't get bored."

"Like what?" Jensen's husky voice blazed a trail straight to Jared's belly.

Jared angled his head and slanted his mouth over Jensen's. He slid his tongue along Jensen's full lower lip and Jensen opened to him, moaning as Jared explored the familiar warmth. Jared drew away slowly and Jensen followed until they separated with a shared breath.

"Things like that," Jared whispered.

Jensen smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Definitely not boring."

Jared grinned and slung his arm around Jensen's shoulders. "Let's say our goodbyes."

Jeff, Sarah and the children stood by the hitching post where Red, Lexie, and Sami were ready to leave for their new home.

"You don't have to leave," Jeff said as Jared and Jensen drew near. "You can raise your horses here."

Jared looked at his brother, clean-shaven and healthy. His lack of an arm didn't make him any less invincible in Jared's eye. However, there were changes in his brother, changes for the better. And it was all thanks to the man who stood beside him.

"I know, but I never cared for the ranch like you and Pa." He glanced at his nephew. "And Austin. It'll be his someday."

The boy tried to smile, but his lips trembled, and Abby's face squinched up as she tried not to cry.

Jared hunkered down in front of his nephew and niece, who stood in front of their mother. Sarah held her hand against her waist; in five months, there would be another Padalecki to welcome into the family. "Jensen and I will see you every week. I promise."

Austin glanced up at Jensen.

"Cross our hearts," Jensen said with a wink and drawing an X on his chest.

This time Austin's grin didn't waver. Jared hugged Abby, then Austin, and moved out of the way as Jensen squatted down by the kids. Jared smiled at Jensen as he got his share of hugs. He glanced up and caught Sarah's fond look. She knew. So did Rose, or as Jensen called her, McKenzie. Jared stifled a chuckle as he recalled Jensen's expression when Rose had told him how she'd spent her first night working at the saloon in bed with Jared...playing Go Fish.

Jeff was watching him with a quizzical expression, but if he suspected, he didn't say anything. Same with McKenzie's husband Emmett. And as far as the townsfolk knew, Jared and the new town doctor were simply good friends.

Jensen rose and faced Sarah. "You take care of that baby and if you have any problems, no matter how small, have Jeff or one of your hired men come get me."

"I will." She hugged Jensen and whispered. "Thank you for making Jared happy."

"Believe me when I say it's my pleasure," Jensen whispered back.

Standing close enough to hear them, Jared couldn't help but blush.

Jensen extended his hand to Jeff and they shook. "You were right, Doc," Jeff said. "Life is pretty damned good."

Jensen looked at Jared then glanced down, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit that Jared didn't dare tell his partner was cute. "Yeah, it is."

Jared mounted Red, his shoulder hardly twinging any more. It had healed well, thanks to Jensen. And thanks to Jeff, Grainger and the three ex-soldiers had been arrested and sent to the territorial prison for what they'd done. In spite of Jared's insistence on helping, Jeff and Jensen had herded the cattle to San Antonio, selling them for enough money to pay the taxes and make it through another year.

He took a long look, at the ranch house, at the corral and the horses, the barn, and finally settled on his family. For so long he'd dreamed of leaving the ranch, but now that he was moving away, he realized it wasn't so much leaving as finding his real home. "We'll be out for dinner next Sunday."

"You'd better be, or I'm sending Jeff in to get you." Sarah's voice was watery despite her smile.

Jared glanced at Jensen who was waiting patiently atop Lexie. Taking Sami's lead rope, Jared touched his heels to Red's flanks. Jensen followed until they were out of the yard then came up to ride beside him, their stirrups brushing.

"Is this what you truly want, Jared?" Jensen asked, a sliver of concern in his green eyes.

Jared glanced up into the darkening sky and caught sight of the first star of the night. He thought back to that evening as he, Austin and Abby had made their wishes and they'd seen the shooting star. Abby still had to wear stockings but only when she went to town, the Bar P had been saved and would someday be Austin's, and Jared...well, Jared had finally found his happiness in the unlikeliest of places.

Jared's gaze caressed the courageous man he loved and he gave Jensen a brilliant smile. "There's nothing I want more than you."

finis

A huge note of thanks to dolimir_k for challenging me to write again. She then took my completed story and made it so much better with her gentle suggestions and constructive critique. Thank you, my friend, for encouraging me to rediscover my love of writing.

And to my artist, myinkyfingers, who captured the images and scenes of Soldier's Heart perfectly, and in doing so, brought the story alive. Thank you so much for sharing your talent and enthusiasm. Please go take a look and send her some much-deserved kudos!

Last but not least, this story wouldn't have been written if not for wendy and thehighwaywoman. Their hard work has kept the Big Bang Challenge flourishing and growing each year. Thank you!

Author's note: My heroes have always been cowboys... I've been an old west aficionado since I read my first Louis L'Amour book years ago. However, I also realize that what I fell in love with was the romanticized version of the old west. This story, although dealing with the serious subject of PTSD, is a sanitized view of the nineteenth century and the effects of war. In reality, day-to-day life was difficult, and the Civil War was brutal and bloody. I took liberties with historical accuracy in regards to clothing (for example, jeans as we know them didn't come into common use until late in the 19th century) and mores of society in the post Civil War era. I wrote Soldier's Heart to tell the story of two men, of love--both romantic and familial--and forgiveness. I hope I came close to succeeding.

Comments are welcome either here or at my LJ. Thank you for reading!