Golden Feather Press
Jake And Jesus

Keeping up with Jake in silence, Wiley raised an eyebrow. He couldn't yet see the bunkhouse around the hill from the main Castille Ranch home.

Jake dodged a cinquefoil bush and glanced at Wiley. "Ain't you gonna ask me what we talked about?"

Pondering a reply in his strides, Wiley unbuttoned the middle button of his tight shirt, releasing his hard hairy pecs. At seven in the morning, it already seemed hotter than yesterday. He scanned the sky to the southwest. Not a cloud. There had been no rain for over a month, and it was already the middle of July, the dry season. Wiley looked at the brown, dusty landscape and wondered if it had permanently died. He skipped a step to avoid a rabbit hole.

"Wiley?"

"Jake, what you and Jesus talk about is none of my business."

"Hell, we're partners!" Jake turned to Wiley, tripped on a rock and lunged forward, but caught himself.

Wiley stopped dead and folded his arms. "What does being partners have to do with it?"

Realizing Wiley was now behind him, Jake spun around. "Why'd you stop? We gotta get Pike like Jimmy asked us to."

Wiley grinned, glad Jake had switched priorities. He immediately ran with that thought. "You're right. Soaring Raven's furious that some of the cows got beyond the river."

Jake snickered as they strode toward the bunkhouse together. "Last night at the dinner table, Pike told Soaring Raven about her wantin' to be foreman all herself." He snickered again. "An' she said she already was."

Wiley laughed. "She is foreman, and always will be. Everyone, even Pike, knows it."

Jake kicked at a crack in the sandy soil. Powdery dust blew up and dispersed quickly in the stiff breeze from the deserts of the southwest.

"Damn, this hot dry spell is killin' ever'thing, Wiley." Jake glanced at Wiley's strides and dodges with high clumps of brown bunch grass. "Them aspens're droppin' green leaves. The tree I cut down this mornin' had no leaves left."

"This is a serious drought." Wiley scanned the brown hills again as he kept up with Jake's brisk trudge. The valleys and lower hills should be soft olive-green. Did the aspens on the higher hills seem dull and lifeless? Was everything really dead or dying? He smiled as he leaped over a lone rock.

"Jake, I think this land is used to this." Wiley winked at Jake who looked at him in surprise. Wiley sniffed the air. "My Iroquois side tells me of coming rain in August."

"Hell, August is two weeks away. Ever'thin'll really be dead by then."

"I bet not. This is tough country."

When they arrived at the bunkhouse, all was quiet. They entered the building and saw every bed made up perfectly with no clutter anywhere.

"Damn! It's clean in here!"

Wiley laughed. "Pike would make a good army sergeant."

They found Pike, Brandy and Towhead out back of the bunkhouse up the hill in the aspen grove. As they approached, they heard Pike yell, "Not that one! It might be too big!"

"What the hell's goin' on?" Jake asked as he stopped beside the tough, raw-boned man.

"What're you two doin' here?" Pike asked curtly. "What'd Soarin' Raven say I did now?"

"There's cows across the river," Jake volunteered.

Pike glared at Jake, then Wiley. "You two ain't workin'. Why don't you get 'em?"

"We plan to," Wiley said calmly. "Don't worry about it. We're only relaying Soaring Raven's message."

Squinting at Wiley, Jake asked, "We're getting' back the cows?"

Wiley faced Jake and folded his arms. "Pike is busy. We know how to get them back." Wiley raised an eyebrow at Pike then gestured toward Brandy and Towhead. "What are they doing?"

Pike scowled. "Getting' aspen walkin' sticks. It's Soarin' Raven's new idea of makin' money fer the ranch. She said so many people from the east is comin' here for the new tours of the closed gold mines, she could sell walkin' sticks in the towns."

"Good idea," Wiley said.

Jake grinned. "Hell, all them women comin' here need them sticks to walk in the rutty streets."

Pulling off his hat and scratching his head, Pike said, "Never thought of it that way." He shoved his hat back on his head, turned and marched into the aspen grove where Towhead and Brandy frowned at young aspens.

"Now I know what we're doin'," Pike said. "We gotta go to the next hill."

Walking back to the ranch house, Jake kicked a rock and looked over at Wiley. "Hell, Wiley. What Jesus an' I talk about is mostly you. Why don't you want to hear about it?"

Wiley chuckled. He sidled up to Jake, slid his arm over Jake's shoulder and planted a kiss on his neck. "Thank you, Jake. I need all the help I can get." He squeezed Jake. "I hope you also talk to Jesus about yourself."

Jake shrugged, shook his head and stared off into the distance for a few minutes. He finally muttered, "Wiley'n me're doin' fine." Jake laughed out loud. "'Corse you know that."

Turning his head to his right, Jake asked, "How's Ma? She told me she'd serve you lemonade."

Jake smiled when he remembered he and Ma had lemonade outside the back of the house one time when Pa had gone to Lexington. They'd laughed at the rabbits in Ma's garden, and Ma had talked about how Jesus loved him, no matter how he felt about liking men. Jake thought how nice it was back home when Pa was gone.

Jake shrugged. "Hell, Jesus, I'm sorry Pa was so mean. Wiley said he'd hang Pa upside-down from my ol' tree house." Jake snickered, then shrugged again.

"Hell, Jesus. Damn! I always forget not to cuss. But I know you don't care. That's why I like talkin' to you."

"Jake?" Wiley shouted from the top of the cliff. "Why did you stack the logs to be split on top of each other?"

Jake squinted into the sun at Wiley and jerked his head slightly. "Be right back, Jesus."

Jake shaded his eyes and looked up the cliff at Wiley, standing at the very edge. With arms folded, Wiley's huge hairy pecs and arms bulged against his dirty long johns, unbuttoned past his navel. The long johns fit him like a second skin. Seeing Wiley's dick and nuts perfectly outlined below the lowest button, Jake's breathing stopped.

When he caught his breath, Jake yelled, "I done that so them flyin' pieces don't hit my legs."

"With the logs up that high, the flying pieces will hit your cock instead," Wiley shouted. "I don't want that to happen to either of us."

"Hell, I never thought'a that." Jake felt a sharp pang in his privates when he thought of Wiley's dick getting hit with a chunk of firewood. "Take 'em down, Wiley."

"Okay." Wiley turned and headed back to the chopping area. Jake watched Wiley's firm butt twist the seat of his long johns as he strode away.

Jake lowered his gaze. "Damn, Jesus. Wiley's sure somethin'! Thanks for givin' him to me." Jake looked at his boots, shrugged and grinned. "Hell, Jesus, when I asked you for a friend when I first left home, I knew you'd give me somebody like Wiley."