We Walk Between The Worlds Part III

[paulacas]

Title: We Walk Between The Worlds Part III
Author: YanzaDracan
Artist: Tiggeratl1
Fandom: KANE RPS Historical AU
Rating: R
Warning: Implied non-con, torture and adult situations
Word Count: 7,802/44,486
Summary: When highway men leave a Donna Ackles pregnant and widowed, she stumbles onto a band of Cherokee. Adopted into the tribe and married to one of their healers, she begins a new life. Life is good for Jensen 'Crow Fox' Ackles and his family until the passing of the Indian Removal Act and the Trail Where We Cried.
      

White Crow repacked his belongings and supplies, setting everything inside the lean-to. He waited until everyone was sound asleep before slipping out. He threw a saddle that had been left in the lean-to over Strong Heart's back followed by his bags and pouches. The gelding grumbled at being led from his warm bed. He kept to the shadows, moving silently away from the small settlement.

To keep from endangering the gelding's legs by riding in the dark, he continued to lead him though they were far enough from the settlement to not be seen. He found a group of trees that sheltered them from the wind while they waited for daylight.

He did the best he could to keep the trees between him and anyone that might be watching. He released a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he finally dropped down the other side of a slight rise. White Crow had thought that when he left that Steven would be at his side, but apparently it was not meant to be. He wondered if it was his scars…

The jingle of a bridle brought White Crow out of his thoughts with a jerk. Strong Heart hadn't recovered enough to try to out run Calvary horses so all he could do was act as though he didn't hear their approach. He held a steady walk and hoped he didn't have to try and bluff his way past a patrol.

He breathed a little easier when he only heard two sets of hoof beats. Hearing the animals pick their pace up to a trot caused his spine to stiffen with anxiety.

"White Crow!…Jensen!"

He was so shocked to hear Steven's voice he pulled his gelding to a stop, and turned back to see Steven heading his way leading a pack horse. White Crow was still staring as Steven rode up to him. The smile on the blond's face was almost blinding in its intensity.

"I talked to Dancing Willows." His tone was scolding. "I'm glad you didn't get very far. I just received a letter from my friend and employer in New York City." The smile was back. "Though the story of the Cherokee migration is finished, they wish me to continue my travels through the west and send them my stories." He paused for a moment. "You don't happen to draw, do you?"

White Crow looked a little dumbfounded at the rush of information, but turned his horse toward the northwest.

"I have been told I do a fair job with a piece of charcoal." He paused, letting Steven's words settle in his mind. "Are you saying you wish me to accompany you on your journey?"

"Of course."

"But…when you did not…I thought…" White Crow shook his head.

"You thought because I have been so busy arranging supplies and money for the trip that I had abandoned our friendship because we arrived at the fort."

"I could not look for you. If they saw me, the Elders would remember what I am and banish me from the camp. Strong Heart needed to rest before we could leave. Most white men would be uncomfortable to continue traveling with me for fear of their reputation." White Crow spoke more to his horse's mane than to Steven.

The brown head snapped up when he felt Steven's hand on his arm.

"I prefer to travel in your company rather than the company of Dancing Willows." He held his breath waiting to see if White Crow took his meaning.

Green eyes widened as White Crow gleaned the meaning of his words. He touched the scar on his cheek only to have Steven cup the fingers and his cheek in his hand.

"None of that matters. You are just as beautiful now as you were before the attack." He leaned across their horses and brushed his lips over the full mouth. "I've wanted to do that since the day we met."

So many emotions passed through the expressive eyes before White Crow ducked his head to hide his blush.

"We should move on before a patrol stumbles over us." He gave Steven a warm smile before he kneed his horse forward.

They found a sheltered place to make camp. White Crow gathered wood for a fire and was surprised when he returned to find Steven pulling a small tent and poles from his horse's packs. Pleased they would not be sleeping in the open, he hobbled the animals so they could forage before setting to work on their supper.

The silence as they worked to get settled for the night was companionable. Neither spoke until they were both enjoying a cup of tea after their meal.

"Jensen…White Crow…" Steven looked up from his cup shyly through his long brown eyelashes.

White Crow smiled. "I suppose that is the name I should use now that I must survive in the white man's world." His smile dimmed at the thought of never seeing his mother or Tsalagi family again. He squared his shoulders. "I shall be Jensen White Crow." He stated-nodding his head as though setting it firmly in his mind.

He felt the whisper of the breeze over his skin and smiled again at Steven, feeling the spirits had approved of his choice.

Steven smiled back before turning serious.

"Jensen, what I did…"

"When you almost kissed me." Jensen teased.

"Yes." Steven blushed. "The other reason I left my home besides being the second son, was because I knew I would never take a wife and live as other men live."

"Because you prefer to lie with men?"

"Yes." Steven blushed at Jensen's blunt question. "You didn't seem surprised when I kissed you this morning."

"That is because I have been waiting for you since I was fourteen years old." Green eyes held blue.

"What!"

"When I did my quest into manhood, the spirits showed me your face and the face of one other. I had always known that I would be banished for my ways. That was why I stepped forward when Captain Benge came into our camp. I saw your face and knew this was my destiny as the spirits had shown me at the end of my childhood."

Shaken to his core, Steven was unsure what to ask.

"You said you saw the face of another. Do we separate for some reason?" His breathing was ragged at the thought of losing what he'd only just found.

"No. He is a part of us. I do not know where we shall find him or when, only that we will." Jensen laid his hand over Steven's. "This is a thing favored by the spirits, but that does not mean it will be swift or that it will be easy. I have always known my way would not be smooth, and if you cannot walk my path with me than I will understand though it would deaden the heart in my chest to lose you."

Eyes damp with tears and full of emotion looked up from their hands to Jensen's face.

"My God, you should be the writer." He chuckled weakly. He switched his grip so he was holding the young healer's hand. "I would be proud to walk your path with you Jensen White Crow." He bent across their hands and took possession of Jensen's lips in a kiss that gave proof to his words.

The stamping and snuffling of the animals brought their attention back to the world.

"I will settle the horses." Jensen stood with a smile.

"I'll get things settled here for the night." Steven's breath caught at the ethereal beauty in the play of the firelight over Jensen's chiseled features.

Still greatly underweight from the arduous trek from Tennessee Steven hoped to soon see the younger man's body back to its former condition.

Uncertainty gripped the writer as he spread their bedrolls in the tent. He stood hugging Jensen's blankets to his chest when he returned from securing the horses. With a teasing smile he grabbed the blankets from Steven and spread them with his.

"You don't do anything uncivilized like sleep in your boots, do you?" Jensen teased as he slipped off his heavy weather clothing and winter moccasins before sliding into the nest of blankets and canvas.

"What?! No! Who are you calling uncivilized?"Steven growled as he began shedding coats and boots.

"The Tsalagi are part of The Five Civilized Tribes." Jensen countered.

"Not sure that's the part of Indian culture I'm interested in right now." Steven joined Jensen in the bedroll. "I think I'd much rather get to know the 'savage' side of your tribe." He whispered as he lowered his mouth to Jensen's and covered the slimmer man's with his own.

For a time there sounds of wonder and amazement, moans of desire as the fire in their blood chased the trails of their finger tips. Bodies arched like bowstrings as teeth scored tender skin and hands grasped hardened flesh as each found their rhythm with the other, and quiet cries of connection and completion filled the ears of the spirits as they smiled on what had come to pass.

Shy smiles and kisses greeted the morning with a quick wash in barely warm water while breakfast cooked and they set their campsite to rights. They refilled their canteens and Jensen gathered a few tender plants that were just showing their shoots along with a few tubers not frozen by the winter's frost to help supplement their trail rations, and they were on their way.

Their travel was unhurried as Steven made notes of their travels and Jensen gathered what plants had begun to show their greenery and sometimes took the time to do a quick sketch with the books and pencils of charcoal Steven had given him. He would fill in the details by firelight telling Steven what he knew of the plants and the animals he drew.

The weather held and the February days grew warmer and longer as they climbed toward March. The two men shared their memories and their bodies, each beginning to know the other as well as they knew themselves.

Jensen and Strong Heart both regained weight and soon both began looking healthy and sleek again as plentiful food and easy travel restored both man and horse.

They had been travelling for close to two weeks, and Steve felt between his writing and Jensen's drawings, he had a packet worth sending to his editor at the New York Evening Post. When they began seeing signs of a settlement the next day he was anxious to find whether it was big enough to have a post service.

Jensen grew quieter and more withdrawn the closer they got to the houses and other buildings. Steven looked over at his companion. Usually the silences between them were peaceful, neither feeling the need to fill the quiet space between them with unnecessary words, but this silence was strained almost fearful. There was no outward sign but the occasion dancing steps of Strong Heart gave it away.

Steven had just opened his mouth to speak when it hit him. The last time they had been near a white settlement, Jensen had been brutally attacked and several of his people killed or injured. Though his skin was white and freckled that marked Irish heritage in his ancestors, the man was born Cherokee, raised Cherokee, and treated as Cherokee by the white world. Closing his mouth with a snap, Steven settled into his saddle to try a figure a way to ease his lover's mind.

Before he could come up with anything, they stopped to read the carved wooden sign by the side of the trail. Tallasi, Cornerstone of the Creek and Cherokee Indian Lands.

"This is probably where some of the Old Settler Cherokee came after they left their homes in Tahlequah." Steven offered hoping it would ease Jensen's mind.

"Then we must be vigilant. If they discover my true nature we will probably be asked to leave." Jensen said quietly.

"Jensen…" Steven was at a loss for words as to how to comfort his companion so they rode on in silence until they reached the mercantile.

Tying their animals to the hitching rail, they entered the store and were greeted by well dressed woman with an accent that marked her as being from the deep South.

"How may we help you gentlemen today?" Her melodic drawl drew their attention to a counter on the left.

Jensen remained silent leaving Steven to answer.

"We need to replenish our supplies and inquire as to a post service, and a place where we might rent a room for a night or two and stable our horses."

The sound of someone with a heavy limp brought the men's attention to a man of obvious Indian heritage moving toward them from a back room.

"We'd be more than happy to help with the supplies and the posting of any letters or packages." The lady continued as though the man had not appeared.

"You can stable your horses at our livery at the edge of town-our son Christian, will help you. There's a hotel between here and there." Her bright blue eyes smiled at them as she wrangled a dark red curl streaked with silver back into her hair pins from where it continued to escape.

"I thank you for your help, Madame." Steven pulled out his best son of the plantation manners. "You have a most delightful accent. From whence do you hail?"

A light blush touched her cheeks at his compliment. "New Orleans, sir, and I thank you for your kind words."

"As soon as we have seen to our animals and inventoried our supplies, we shall return with our list." He touched the brim of his hat and with a slight bow turned back toward the door to see Jensen and the man behind the counter eyeing each other.

"Michael, don't stare so. You'll make the young man think he's done something wrong." He heard the woman scold.

Jensen had already slid out the door, so Steven couldn't hear the man's reply. As he swung up on his horse, he looked at the sign over the door. KANE MERCANTILE stood out in freshly painted red letters.

Their first stop was the hotel to check in and leave the bulk of their luggage so they could stop at the bath house on the way back from the livery.

Jensen saw the look on the man's face behind the long counter and knew this was going to be ugly.

"Help you?" The clerk asked between gritted teeth.

Mindful of propriety in town, Steven never hesitated.

"We'd like two rooms for three nights."

The man hesitated. He looked at the reddish brown hair, green eyes, freckles and stubble on the man standing beside the blond man, who though dusty from the trail, wore clothing of excellent quality. He'd probably get fired if the boss' wife ever heard what he was about to say, but she wasn't here.

"Don't cotton to breeds in this hotel."He pulled himself up to his full height.

"Excuse me?" Steven wanted to be sure he was hearing right.

"Breeds…you know half-bred between a white and an injun." He didn't like the look coming into the blond's eyes so he rushed to finish. "They sleep in the livery or on the other side of town with the Negroes and Mexicans."

Steven heard the rustle of Jensen's charms that ran through his hair as he turned toward the door. Raising his voice so everyone in the lobby could hear, Steven let go his anger at the little man behind the desk.

"Mrs. Kane from the mercantile assured us that there were rooms available at this establishment." He snarled. I shall be sure to inform her of her mistake when I see her shortly." He was about to go at the man again until he heard his name called softly.

"It's alright, Steven. I don't want to cause any trouble."

"No. Mrs. Kane said we were welcome here. Why would she lie?" He glared at the desk clerk.

"M…mmm…Mrs. Kane. You spoke with her?" The clerk stuttered.

"At the mercantile. Told us where to stable our horses and a good hotel." Blue eyes narrowed.

"Just let me get keys to adjoining rooms for you gentlemen while you sign the guest book." The shorter man looked hopefully at Jensen, who was still ready to bolt for his horse.

"Jensen?" Steven asked softly seeing the spooked expression on his face.

Steven didn't move toward the desk until Jensen had joined him. Jensen watched as Steven signed his name in the register then picked up the quill and in a graceful hand signed-Jensen Ackles.

Steven frowned at Jensen using his white name, but seeing the little man behind the desk pale at thought that he'd tried to deny a white man a room after getting a recommendation from his boss made it worthwhile. He intended to speak with Jensen later about denying himself.

On the way the livery they dropped their dirty clothes at the laundress' and pulled rifles and saddlebags off their saddles as the stood in front of the livery.

"Help you gents?" A baritone voice that sounded like smoke and whiskey sent fissures of fire along Jensen and Steven's nerves.

The two men exchanged a look as the man that belonged to the voice walked around the corner.

Jensen was thunderstruck. There in the flesh was the other man from his visions. Steven stepped forward, but Jensen was sure he could not have moved if the barn was on fire.

"If you are Christian, then yes, we could use your help." Steven answered.

"I assume my mama sent you down from the mercantile?"

Christian's chuckle was warm and full of life. Just hearing it made the corners of your mouth want to curl up and join in his laughter.

Jensen watched as Steven's face lit up in response to Christian's warm welcome. He stood quietly observing the two men partially hidden behind Strong Heart and the pack horse.

"The fact that most of the other services we require are between the mercantile and here did not hurt."

"We?" Christian questioned.

"Yes, my companion…" Steven looked around for Jensen. He'd thought the younger man right behind him, "and I require stabling for our animals."

Christian's eyes followed Steven's and found the man who practically blended into the dun colored coat of his horse. He frowned slightly at the poor condition of man and horse. The winter in Oklahoma had not been harsh enough for the two handsome creatures to be so skinny, but then the other man moved and…

The light coming through the barn door fell across his face, and Christian Kane recognized the face he had not seen since he was fourteen and his father had left him outside overnight for his trial to pass into adulthood.

"The spirits sent me your face in a vision." Christian said in Cherokee. He turned back to Steven and studied his face more closely. "He was in my vision, too." His tone was confused.

"You and Steven were in my visions as well." Jensen answered. "I believe we are to travel through this life together."

Pale blue eyes narrowed. "You are one of the newcomers?"

"I walked The Trail Where We Cried." Jensen stared at the reins he wove and loosened with nervous fingers.

Christian studied the markings on the bags slung across the familiar stranger's shoulders.

"Yer a healer…a medicine man." His shock broke him out of Cherokee and back to English. "They wouldn't have let someone as important as you leave Tahlequah…unless…unless…yer a two-spirit!"

Jensen ducked his head, but it snapped back up at an angry hiss from Steven.

"Why don't you shout it a little louder? I don't think they heard you in the saloon." He took a step toward Christian.

He was shocked at the venom in the blond's voice, but Christian refused to back down.

"What's wrong, little woman can't stand up for himself?" Christian wanted to clamp a hand over his own mouth as he said the hateful words he heard uttered by the Old Settler elders of his tribe.

Next thing he knew he was sitting in the dirt of the barn floor, the sting in his jaw corresponding with the blond named Steven shaking his stinging hand.

"I guess the term 'ignorant savage' does apply to some Indians."

"Damn. Did you have to hit me so hard?" Christian worked his jaw to make sure it wasn't broken.

"How could you be so hateful? Jensen White Crow is one of the most stubborn, brave and giving souls I have ever had the pleasure to meet, and all you can do is make a crude joke?"

"He's the first two-spirit I ever met. I was so shocked I just said what I've heard all my life." The brunette climbed to his feet.

"Yes, well, perhaps we'll find somewhere else for our lodgings." He turned to say something to Jensen only to find Jensen and Strong Heart gone.

"Dammit!" Steven ran out the door to see…an empty street.

Hurt, confused, and not wanting to be seen, White Crow had turned off the main street and was leading Strong Heart down the alley behind the buildings. The spirits had obviously tricked him when they had shown him the vision with him, Steven and the dark one he now knew as Christian.

Christian was obviously part of the Old Settlers Tsalagi tribe, so White Crow was doubly cursed. He was a Newcomer and two-spirit. He could see the spark that had ignited between Steven and Christian. Steven did not need the complications of White Crow's ignorance of the ways of the white world and the stigma of traveling with a two-spirit. He loved Steven and would not see him come to harm when people deduced that it was the writer's nature to lie with men instead of women.

The crude remarks he had heard from the soldiers because Steven had befriended him on The Trail Where We Cried often worried White Crow that Steven would be ill-treated by them. Christian's words had fed that fear so he fled.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the prairie beckoning him from the other side of the church. When there were no more lines of the wet clothes to sweep him from the back of his horse, he swung into the saddle and continued their original path toward the northwest.

%%%%%

Angry at Christian and fear for Jensen had Steven swinging into his saddle, urging his tired bay toward the edge of town. Hope that he could find Jensen and convince him to come back to town had the writer leaving his pack horse tied to the rail at the livery. Returning to retrieve the horse might be the only way Steven could get Jensen back to town.

Hearing the sound of another horse, Steven turned to see Christian astride a well built black, using nothing but a rope looped around the horse's lower jaw for control. He opened his mouth to send the reason for Jensen's flight back to the livery, but the stubborn look on Christian's face had him closing his mouth with a snap. The other man had caused this mess, maybe he could fix it.

%%%%%

Not seeing Jensen when they got outside of town, the men pulled their horses to a stop. The rolling terrain blocked the younger man from their line of sight.

"Which way were you headed when you came into town?" Christian asked.

"Northwest. My publisher will pay for whatever stories and pictures I send, but Jensen said we needed to go northwest."

"Let's go. He can't have made it too far."

Believing he wouldn't be followed, White Crow made no effort to hide his back trail. Keeping his tired horse at a walk, he began looking for a good place to camp for the night.

Strong Heart pricking his ears and turning his head to look behind them pulled White Crow out of his mental doldrums. Hearing the sound of fast moving horses, he looked for cover, but there was nothing, but scrub and mesquite. He knew if he asked it, Strong Heart would run until he could give no more, but White Crow would not injure his valiant companion in such a way so he pulled the gelding to a stop and turned to meet whoever was coming head on.

A friendly nicker from Strong Heart told White Crow it was Steven coming up behind him. An answering nicker from the bay mare confirmed his assumption. He relaxed in the saddle until he saw Christian riding alongside Steven.

"Why'd you leave?" Steven sounded confused.

"I told you I would not fit into your white world. It is obvious I was right." White Crow looked pointedly at Christian.

The brunette ducked his head, his long hair hiding the flush of his embarrassment. Making a decision, he lifted his head and blue/grey eyes met green.

"'m sorry about the things I said. I let what I've heard others say talk for me instead of making my own decision and talking for myself. Once you learn about white ways, they're not so bad." He gave Jensen his warmest smile.

Christian was taken aback at the bitter twist to Jensen's mouth at his words. "Learn the ways of the whites!? Let me tell you what I have learned about the ways of the whites." Strong Heart danced as his hands tightened on the reins.

White Crow took a deep breath to settle himself so the gelding would relax.

"I know of my white grandfather who sold his virtuous daughter to his business associates for money and power. I know of the white men in Washington, DC, who lusted for our land to sell to other white men. White soldiers who coerced members of The Five Civilized Tribes to turn on their people by threatening their families so they would help the white Army hunt and capture members of their tribes to force them to walk many days to an unknown land to be beaten, killed, given blankets poisoned with the white man's sickness, starved, and violated in exchange for food for their children. Herded to a place where they are unwanted by those who came before-I who has the outside of a white man, but whose heart is Tsalagi have no desire to learn white ways. The only whites I have met that I wish to learn more of are Steven and the beautiful red haired woman at the store who showed me a kindness." White Crow stopped the headlong rush of words in order to draw a shaking breath.

He looked down to see Steven holding his hand tightly as he reached up to wipe away the tears streaming down Jensen's face. Jensen looked up to see a pale faced Christian staring at them. He snatched his hand away from Steven and forced Strong Heart back with the pressure of his legs.

"You must not touch me so in front of strangers, Steven. I would not see you injured because of other men's perceptions of you riding with me. Leave me. Go back to Tallasi with Christian."

"No!" Steven kneed his mare forward. "I took this assignment to find what was missing in me. I have found part of that in you. I will not give that up." He laid his hand on Jensen's arm. "Don't you know I love you? From the moment you stepped forward to fulfill your Elder's vision-knowing you would be banished from your family and then from your tribe-I have loved you."

Defeated by both his own and Steven's emotion. Jensen bowed his head. "I will return to Tallasi with you."

%%%%%

It was a quiet ride back to town. Christian was so shocked by what he had heard that he could think of nothing to say to the man who was younger in years, but so much older in experience. That he and Steven were lovers was not a shock. There were many who were known to take advantage of whatever was available, but few who were willing to admit it. Steven's declaration of love for Jensen had shaken Christian to his very core.

The horses settled Christian watched as the two men crossed the street to the bath house before turning back to his own chores.

The silence between them was comfortable--peaceful as though Jensen's tirade had lanced an infection that had long needed drained.

When they entered the dining room a short time later, it was to find Christian sitting with the couple from the mercantile. The air around them was thick with emotions. Steven and Jensen nodded to Christian before taking a table opposite. Knowing Jensen would feel uncomfortable in the crowded room, they concluded their meal as quickly as possible.

Still recovering from their trek from Tennessee, Jensen went up to their rooms while Steven stepped into the bar to see what local gossip was making the rounds. Spotting Christian sitting at a back table, the writer ordered a beer before moving to join him. The smile Christian gave him was strained but welcoming. Steven looked around to see if anyone was close enough to overhear their conversation.

"If I am overstepping myself, please let me know, but there appeared to be a great deal of tension between you and your dining companions."

Christian snorted into his mug. "That's puttin' it mildly."

"I apologize if our arrival has been the cause for this strife."

Christian chuckled. "The strife, as you say, has always been just below the surface-your arrival has simply caused it to rise to the top. It's been a battle that has been waged since my coming of age ritual."

Steven nodded in sympathy. "I, too, know what it is like to be at odds with my parents. I was the younger son, but I refused to fall into line with their plans for my future."

Christian raised his mug in salute.

"To kindred souls."

With a grin, Steven touched his mug to Christian's.

"Kindred souls. Cheers."

%%%%%

When Jensen woke it was to a sense of disorientation. The sky and room were dark, and he was alone. He had not slept alone since leaving Tahlequah, and from the looks of the linens he had spent the night searching for Steven.

On his way to Steven's room, he stopped long enough to stir up fire to remove the night's chill from the rooms. As he approached the bed, the smell of beer and smoke assaulted his nose. Steven slept heavily and had merely removed his coat, vest and boots before falling onto the bed.

Jensen took a quilt out of the blanket chest at the foot of the bed and covered Steven to ward off the pre-dawn chill then returned to his room closing the adjoining door.

Fixing a pallet before the fireplace, Jensen put away his white man's thoughts and returned to White Crow. Sorting carefully through the packets in his medicine bag, he removed tobacco, sage and a bit of cedar, and a small bowl shaped piece of iron. Carefully placing coals from the fire onto the iron, he settled himself on the pallet and began to chant quietly. Using the sage and cedar he cleansed his person and his spirit. Giving the gift of tobacco to the spirits, he closed his eyes and let his mind move both inward and outward.

When he returned to himself, the fireplace had once again burned down to coals and the sky had begun to lighten with the promise fine day. His white skin and Cherokee heart had come to a place of peace where he could be Jensen White Crow Ackles without fear of losing any part of himself. Then memories of the visions returned and he lowered his head into his hands as silent tears ran over freckled cheeks.

%%%%%

A full bladder pushed his mind to consciousness. Steven groaned as he carefully rolled over and with as little movement as possible made use of the chamber pot. He blessed Jensen his thoughtfulness when he saw two pots sitting on the dresser. He could smell the aroma of coffee, but he knew the smaller pot would contain a concoction of herbs that would tackle the effects of too many libations.

By the time he was finished the two pots and had taken care of the morning's ablutions, he opened the door connecting their rooms only to find Jensen's room empty with very little sign that the man actually inhabited the room.

After a quick breakfast, he headed toward the livery hoping to find Jensen, Christian or both. What he found was Jensen with everything neatly laid out, a list next to their supplies, while he checked over every strap, buckle, saddlebag, tent and piece of leather on all their equipment.

The stable was quiet but for the sounds of the animals shuffling and eating. Movement above caught his eye and he saw Christian forking down hay from the mow into the mangers. The dark-haired man didn't look the worse for wear. He either held his liquor better than Steven or Jensen had been generous with his hangover cure.

"Is the list finished for the mercantile?" He asked quietly so as to not disturb the sense of peace that seemed to permeate the livery.

When Jensen turned towards him, Steven gasped at the odd expression in the moss green eyes. He saw the warmth and depth of the younger man's feelings, but mingled in the love was a profound sadness. Steven wondered if was from what had already been endured, or if Jensen had had a vision. Steven hoped it was the former.

"Just checking that everything is in good shape. It could be some time before we are somewhere with a harness shop or blacksmith." He turned to make a notation on the list.

Steven shuffled his feet like he was uncomfortable. He looked around the livery, but saw no sign of Christian.

"What would you think of Christian traveling with us?" He asked quietly.

"It is no less than I expected." Jensen's tone was nonchalant as he began to repack the panniers.

Before Steven could form a thought, Jensen had put everything to rights and was headed toward the door with his list. Steven hurried to catch up.

"Let me take a look--see if I need to add anything." He held out his hand for the paper.

"There is no need for us to both go to the mercantile. I need to visit some of these other places such as the apothecary where I might replenish my supplies. I will meet you in the lobby of the hotel, and we will have dinner." Jensen crossed the street toward the smithy.

Steven stared after him resisting the urge to follow. Jensen had made no mention of money so he wasn't sure how he intended to pay for his purchases, but Steven didn't want to chase after him as though he were a child and not a man grown.

Dropping the list with Mrs. Kane, Steven also posted his latest writings and Jensen's drawings to Tom. He made his way back to the mercantile remembering he needed to replenish his personal items, and add a few pieces of clothing that were more appropriate to the terrain that Jensen seemed determined to cross.

He stepped inside the door to the sound of voices that drowned out the tinkling of the bell over the door. The argumentative tone of the voices made him want to leave so as to not to interfere in family business, but leaving would cause the bell to alert them to his presence.

Moving quietly around the store, he gathered the items he'd forgotten to put on his list and placed them on the counter before moving back toward the clothing. By the time he had chosen what he needed, the voices had lowered to normal tones so he did not feel so self-conscious when he returned to the counter.

Mrs. Kane's smile was warm, if a tad watery when she greeted him. She already had his order bundled, but when she saw the clothing he had chosen she clucked her tongue in disapproval. She carried the clothes Steven had chosen back to their shelves, and returned with ones Steven hadn't remembered seeing.

"If you're going to be riding with Cherokee, you should be dressed properly." She teased. "These will last you much longer than those others. While the weather is still cold, your long handles will help you keep warm." She laid several sets of buckskins in his arms. "Christian and Jensen can teach you how to care for them."

"Christian?" He asked dumbfounded.

The two of them had talked about travelling together, but Steven hadn't thought he'd meant now.

"But his obligations..." That was the reason Christian had turned him down--familial obligations.

"Yes--well--we worked that out. Loudly I'll grant you, but to everyone's satisfaction. I've already added Christian's supplies in with yours so everything will ready for you to ride out in the morning."

"Thank you, Mrs. Kane. We came into town to rest a few days and restock. We did not come into town to cause turmoil." Steven said apologetically as he pulled his wallet out of his inner pocket.

"Christian has been waiting for this day for fourteen years. Michael and I chose to ignore what he saw all those years ago. You didn't cause the turmoil, our own stubbornness did, and Kanes are nothing if not stubborn." She chuckled.

"Will you be coming back this way?" She asked hopefully.

"I truly cannot say. Jensen no longer has ties with the Cherokee. We have trekked side by side since Tennessee, and I am excited to see what's next."

She came around the counter and hugged a surprised Steven.

"I will pray that you boys will return to us one day."

Before anymore could be said, Christian came down the stairs from the family's quarters over store.

"We'll come by first thing and load the horses." Christian started gathering parcels and tucking them under the counter.

Steven pulled out his pocket watch.

"I'm to meet Jensen at the hotel for supper. Join us? You and he did not get off to the best start." Steven heard Christian's mother gasp. "I beg your pardon. Since this is our last night in town I suspect you should spend it with your family. There will be plenty of time for mending fences with Jensen on the trail."

Christian wrapped an arm around his mother's waist and pulled her close to his side.

"Right. We can meet here after breakfast?"

%%%%%

They'd been traveling steadily since daylight, and it had been a very quiet trip. Steven had started the day with high expectations. After supper they'd retired to their rooms where they'd made love until both were happily sated in the middle of the wreck of Steven's bed. They moved to Jensen's room where they'd fallen asleep twined together.

After breakfast, they gone to the livery and saddled the horses. Everything had been fine until Jensen refused to go inside the mercantile. He arranged their supplies to ride evenly across the horse's back, and while Steven had stepped inside as Christian made his farewells-Jensen had started out of town, taking the horse with him.

Now a half day's ride northwest of the Tallasi and the first words Jensen had spoken had been to tell them he found a place to water and rest the animals while they ate a bit of lunch.

%%%%%

Christian rested his back against a tree as he and the two men he'd met three days before and enjoyed the respite-each of them was working their way through roast beef sandwiches his mother had fixed before they left.

When they'd caught up to Jensen, Steven had taken the pack horse's lead, freeing Jensen to scout out ahead. He'd spent the morning getting to know Steven and Jensen through Steven's words. He'd heard the Old Settlers in Tallasi complaining about the chaos the Newcomers would cause, and how the chiefs from the Eastern tribes would try to usurp power from the Old Settlers.

Christian's family hadn't really interacted much with their Cherokee relatives. His grandmother had accepted that her son had married a white woman, but Christian and his sister were always on the fringes of their clan because his mother had not been formally adopted into the tribe.

He'd done all the things Tsalagi children did including his passage into manhood ritual where he'd seen the faces of Steven and Jensen in his vision, but after that he'd become immersed into the white world of college, staying with his uncle's family in Tuscaloosa, learning the difference between ladies of gentility, ladies of the night, and the things that went on when there were no ladies at all.

The irony of Jensen, full blooded white, being more of a Cherokee than someone born half Cherokee was not lost on Christian.

Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes, listening to the breeze stir the limbs overhead, the scratch of pencil crossing paper as Jensen sketched while Steven talked quietly.

When he opened his eyes, Steven was tightening saddle girths as Jensen scoured the stream bank for plants and edibles. Brushing the dust off the back of his pants, Christian joined the writer in getting ready for the rest of the day.

%%%%%

Christian sat transfixed as he watched Jensen savoring the stew he'd prepared from the jackrabbits, they'd snared while they were setting up camp. The rabbits were still a little skinny from winter, but it was meat. He was startled when Steven hunkered down next to him.

"There was little food on The Trail. I'm not sure what was in what they ate each night, but it was barely enough, and there were times when Jensen and the other adults gave their portions to the children to ease the pangs of their hunger."

"Was it really that bad? Our Elders never took any of that into consideration. Just how much turmoil it was bound to cause, and all the other things old men spent their time whining about." Christian asked sincerely. "Has Jensen always had the scars? His question seemed off-hand.

Steven handed him a leather bound journal.

"See for yourself. It's all there. Jensen and some of the other men were out gathering firewood while they were waiting for the ferry man to allot his precious time to take them across the river. Men from the nearby town attacked the group. Several died. The leader of the men beat Jensen about the face and shoulders with a riding quirt. We were afraid he was going to lose the eye." Steven wiped a hand over his face as if to erase the memory.

Blue eyes met when he felt a hand on his arm pulling him from the memory.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rouse bad memories."

"Not your fault." He laid his hand over Christian's.

Startled at the jolt along their nerves at the contact, their eyes locked until both turned to see green eyes watching them unblinkingly.

Two sets of blue eyes looked away first.

%%%%%

The nights were still chill so they continued to use the tent. Though they'd fall asleep with Jensen and Steven twined together, they'd wake with Christian pressed to Jensen's back.

Christian and Steven would act as though they'd been caught doing something wrong, but Jensen would smile his knowing smile that infuriated both men before kissing Steven soundly and leaving the tent to start the day. A red faced Christian would hide his body's reaction to watching the men kiss in the confines of his bedroll until he could turn away to grab his pants and boots.

After a week of Jensen's teasing and Christian's embarrassment, Jensen had found them a campsite where the river they were following formed a pool deep enough for bathing and swimming.

Though the air carried still carried a nip of winter, the sun warmed pool was perfect so long as you stayed out of the colder water of the river's main channel. Christian rummaged through his saddlebags for his toiletries and a change of clothes after he finished gathering enough wood to see them through until morning.

He checked the hobbled horses were staying close to camp before heading toward the river. He heard the sounds carrying over the water before he left the cover of the cottonwoods.

Shock stopped him in the shadow of the old tree, but the beauty of the scene before him kept Christian both transfixed and silent.

Standing with his hands braced against the river tumbled boulder, Steven stood-his head thrown back to rest on Jensen's shoulder as his back bowed with the intensity of what he was experiencing as Jensen controlled the blond's body with the same grace and intensity he applied to everything.

Christian's breath quickened as he watched Jensen nip along Steven's nape and shoulders, as his cock moved in and out of Steven's body. His fingers curled as though it was him holding the writer in place by his hips. Unconsciously his hips moved in sync with Jensen's. He could feel the pressure around his cock as Steven's body jerked taut and his climax painted the rock face. Sweat broke out across his face as he ghosted Jensen's movements when the younger man bent Steve forward and moved closer to his own completion. The reddish brown head fell back as the long hair danced with his movements, muscles taut as Jensen's climax filled Steven's body-as Christian's coated the inside of his pants.

Breathing heavily Christian leaned against the trunk of the cottonwood as Jensen rested his cheek against Steven's back still buried inside the muscular body. Green eyes opened to stare directly at Christian-their expression too knowing.

When Christian crawled into the tent that night it was to find his bedroll in the middle of Jensen and Steven's. Without a word he settled and when he opened his eyes the next morning, Steven's smile was warm and sleepy, and Jensen's arm pinned him in place.

"He does tend to cling." Steven whispered.

"I probably would too if I were in his shoes." Christian whispered back.

Their voices started Jensen to stir. Christian could feel Jensen rub his face across his back, reminding him of the livery's old mam cat just as he realized Jensen's morning erection rubbed against other parts of the brunette's anatomy. He tensed.

Part IV