Date: Wed, 31 Mar 2010 15:22:53 -0600
From: Roy <roynm@mac.com>
Subject: Owen - chapter 35 - Gay College Section

Owen

Chapter thirty-five


	Lucas sat on the floor with his back against a large leather sofa,
a bare leg on either side of Owen, who relaxed into the loose embrace.
Since the death of Owen's father, and the eventful meeting with the doctor,
Lucas thought of the days as having taken on a lingering honey-sweet
quality.  Each morning, he would lie at Owen's side as the pale morning
light caressed his lover's nakedness, highlighting the slow rise and fall
of his chest, the ripples of his belly, and the flaccid penis which curved
over the swell of his scrotum.  The sleeping man's short blond hair,
seemingly always in disarray begged to be touched, as did the slightly
smiling lips.

	"It's nice of Daniel to let us use his place while he's gone," he
murmured, first nuzzling Owen's ear then caressing it with the barest of
kisses.  "Us being away from the house gives Sam and Jonah some time alone,
too."  Owen hummed a reply and rubbed his hands up and down Lucas' legs as
he flexed his toes, luxuriating in the warmth of the fire against his bare
skin.  Lucas ran his nose back and forth through the blond hair at the back
of Owen's head, inhaling the spicy scent he loved so much, then kissed
Owen's neck, tightening his embrace, the tranquility of the setting
blanketing him.

	"I never would have imagined I'd be naked with another guy, lying
on the floor of the doctor's living room, enjoying a fire and a glass of
wine," Owen murmured.  He held up his half-empty glass by the stem, slowly
swirling the pale liquid.  "Y'know this stuff makes me all woozy, don't
you?"  He twisted slightly trying to look over his shoulder and grinned in
the flickering light cast by the fire in the darkened room.  The fire
crackled sending out a spray of sparks as thunder rumbled in the darkness
and a steady drum of rain sounded on the apartment's windows.

	"You're not planning on taking advantage of a poor, innocent,
country boy, are you?" he asked, with a hint of a smile in his voice, as he
lightly rubbed his hands over the hair on Lucas' thighs.

	"Hmm, I don't know.  Do you happen to know of an innocent country
boy who would enjoy being taken advantage of?  You sure had those girls at
the restaurant interested in being around you.  I was hoping I was the only
person turned on by your good looks."

	"Verrry funny," Owen snorted, playfully slapping Lucas' bare leg.
"Those girls were all," he shuddered, "giggly.  I hated how they touched me
without asking.  No one does that but Sam, the family, and you.  Sorta gave
me the willies.  I'm not the fancy person they think.  I'm just a country
boy.  I'm not as naive as when I met you, but . . ." He sighed, melting
into the warmth of Lucas' embrace as thunder rolled overhead.  "I'll never
be the person that'll take them away from Riverton."

	Owen lapsed into silence.  "I sorta don't blame them.  I've dreamt
all my life of leaving, only to find myself back where I started.  Those
girls probably have less of an idea what the world is like than I did when
I left, and, if they ever do manage to leave and find that they're
overwhelmed, they probably won't have someone to rescue 'em like you did
me."  He reached for Lucas' hand.  "Y'know, I'm thinkin' how lucky a guy I
am, to be in love with someone as wonderful as you.  I've changed a lot
'cause'a you."  He brought Lucas' hand to his lips and kissed it, then
rolled out of the embrace, onto his side, smiling and urging Lucas to join
him.

	"Aww, Owen, now's not the time to wrestle," Lucas groaned.  "You
know you can beat me every time.  What fun is that for you?"

	"I'm not asking you to wrestle.  I'm asking for you to squirm
around on top of me, so I can feel that thing between your legs poking at
me.  I'm wanting to be skin-to-skin with the man I love.  Laying around in
front of the fire is great, but havin' you on top of me is way better."  He
reached out and trailed a fingertip down Lucas' chest to his belly, then
brought Lucas' hand to his lips.  He tenderly kissed the palm then licked
across it, finally sucking on the forefinger.  "I like it when we go real
slow," Owen murmured.  We don't even have to jiz.  Being with you is what I
like best.  He lapsed into silence, thinking for a moment, then grinned.
"Though shooting a load runs a close second."  He laid on his back and
opened his arms.  "C'mon, handsome.  I'm wantin' to hold you so bad."

	"Seeing you like this is an invitation no one could ignore," Lucas
murmured as he knelt between his partner's spread legs.  Owen tilted his
head up, smiling an additional invitation.  His skin positively glowed in
the flickering light of the fire.  As always, Lucas was especially taken
with the faint freckles sprinkled across Owen's nose.  They had been one of
the things Lucas first noticed when he met Owen and, in his opinion, were
one of Owen's most endearing features.  'This is a man who is so much more
than a mere sex partner.  He is a life partner.'  Lucas leaned forward and
nuzzled beneath Owen's scrotum, pleased, both with the sound of pleasure
and the warmth of the fire against his bare ass cheeks.

	He rolled one testicle, then the other, in his mouth, then
swallowed the length of Owen's erection, massaging its underside with his
tongue as Owen rhythmically tightened the muscles of his buttocks, gently
thrusting himself into Lucas' warm mouth.  "Ohhh, that's good," Owen
murmured, a moment before groaning in frustration when Lucas released his
cock.

	The dark blond pubic hair was next to attract Lucas' attention,
before he kissed a line over the flat belly and swell of his chest.  Owen
gasped when Lucas teased a nipple with his teeth.  Lucas grinned to
himself.  Owen's nipples were almost as sensitive as his penis.  "That's
why I don't like wearing shirts," he once said.  "They rub against my nips
and I get hard.  Hell," he laughed.  "I can shoot, doing nothing more than
rubbing 'em."  He'd made a face.  "Sorta makes a mess in my pants though,"
he added, with a mischievous smile," so I don't do it too often."

	"Better stop," Owen groaned, keeping his hands away from himself.
"I'm gettin' all tingly."

	"Y'sure?"

	Owen, his eyes closed, rolled his head from side to side.  "I wanna
shoot in your mouth," he mumbled, "after you take care of that itch I've
got inside my butt."  He raised his head off the floor and grinned.
"Deal?" he asked.

	Lucas didn't wait for an answer, but laid on top of Owen, burying
his face in the hair of an armpit, then leaving a line of warm kisses up
Owen's neck, to his collarbone, his earlobe, and finally ending at his
waiting mouth and tongue.

	"Plug me," Owen groaned, as Lucas thrust their two erections
together.  "I need you in me."

	Lucas pushed himself to his knees as Owen brought his own knees
back to his chest, exposing his smooth pink hole.  "C'mon, Lucas," he
begged, reaching back and slapping his own butt.  "Hurry," he groaned,
squirming slightly.  When Lucas lapped across the hole with his tongue,
Owen gasped with pleasure.

	"Stop foolin' around," Owen whimpered.  "You're drivin' me up the
wall, teasin' me like you are."

	"Y'sure you want me inside you?" Lucas playfully asked, dragging
the spongy head of his erection over Owen's pulsing hole.

	Owen groaned his answer, a trembling sound, full of emotion, as
Lucas continued to tease his butthole.

	"F'real?" Lucas teased, pushing his cock head part way in, then
withdrawing it.

	"Yes I'm sure!" Owen shouted.  "Fuck me, now!  I'm 'bout ready to
cum.  The first time you slide across my prostate, I'm a goner."  After a
brief pause he whimpered, "Please, Lucas.  I need you in me."

	"Well . . . okay," Lucas grinned, needing release as much as Owen.
He pushed the head of his dick against the tight opening, watching as the
ring of muscle slowly gave way.  Once the cock head was in and the
sphincter snapped around the shaft of his cock, he slid in, in one smooth
movement, until he rested his weight on top of Owen and he began a slow
rocking motion with his hips.  He felt the sphincter surrounding his cock
tighten, milking him in rhythm with each forward thrust.

	"Ohhhh fuuuuck,"Owen sighed, as Lucas found his tongue.  "Ohhhh,
ohhhh fuuuuck."  He tightened his embrace, pulling Lucas closer as both
men's breathing became ragged.

	"Gonna shoot, Cowboy," Lucas grunted a moment before he felt his
sperm erupt into the confines of Owen's hole.  In perfect timing, Owen
arched his back, and shot his own load, never releasing his hug, nor Lucas'
tongue.

	"Y'happy, Cowboy?" Lucas asked.  He rolled onto his back at Owen's
side and sucked on his own fingers, after gathering up as much of Owen's
jiz as he could.

	Owen hummed a sleepy response, snuggling closer.  "You have no
idea," he answered, his breath light as it touched the hair of Lucas'
chest.  "You have no idea," he repeated, as he surrendered himself to
sleep.


----------


	Lucas raised an arm in greeting as Sam entered Sally's restaurant,
the meeting place for the entire town.  Though it was still spring, the
heat of the summer was on its way and he was glad to be in an air
conditioned building.  He smiled in welcome.  "I'm glad you could meet for
lunch," he said, as Sam approached the table and smiled in a rare
expression of pleasure, which shifted from Lucas to Sally, the restaurant's
owner, and, this afternoon, the only waitress.

	Lucas watched as Sam visited with Sally, thinking how different
Sally's place was from the Italian restaurant near school, and its
. . . impressive . . . owner.  That place, it seemed, was worlds away from
where he was now.  Thinking back, he was amazed at how he'd changed since
meeting Owen and coming to Riverton.  He was growing into the Horton name,
a name which meant much back home, and, Lucas vowed, would someday mean
something here.  He grinned, anticipating the time where instead of being
introduced as Neil Horton's son, his father, Neil, would be introduced as
Lucas Horton's father.  He dismissed thoughts of hubris as he returned his
attention to Sam.

	He and Owen were the same age, however, slender Sam looked much
more boyish.  "He was so upset, and I was already feelin' so homesick, I
almost didn't leave," Owen had told him one night as they sat side by side,
in a darkened apartment, drinking hot chocolate and watching the snow fall.
"Sammy . . ." Owen began, then shook his head, turning toward Lucas.  "He's
just . . . very important to me."

	Lucas could not imagine the man he'd come to know, crying and
giving Owen a photograph to remember him by.  In the intervening months,
since Owen had left for school, Sam had changed.  It was clear, by the way
he reacted to everyone, that he continued to be the sensitive man Owen
described, but he'd also become reserved . . . seemingly troubled
. . . almost withdrawn.

	His voice was soft, as he visited with Sally, almost as if he was
afraid of attracting attention to himself by speaking too loud.  If his
soft voice didn't draw people's attention, his appearance surely would.
Sam's dark blue eyes were framed by thick lashes which would be the envy of
every woman Lucas knew.  Thick black hair fell across his forehead in
artful disarray, moving and shifting with each of his movements or a stray
puff of breeze.  His skin was flawless, his hands large with long,
blunt-tipped fingers.  When he smiled, his dimples made their appearance,
making him appear even younger.  Today, he was wearing a light blue polo
shirt which clung to his chest and flat belly, and a pair of white jeans
which hugged his hips and thighs, and cupped a formidable penis.  'White,
the perfect color for a farm boy,' Lucas grinned to himself, unwilling to
dwell too much on how wonderful it had been to be in bed with both Owen and
Sam.  'The color of his jeans tells me exactly how much farm work Sam
actually does.'

	"He used to be playful," Owen recently complained, speaking of Sam.
"We used to tell each other outlandish stories, down by the river.  We'd
laugh and carry on, rolling on the grass until our eyes were watering we
were laughing so hard."  Owen had shaken his head.  "Now, he's actin' like
an old man, and he's only eighteen!"

	Lucas had to admit that Sam had been pretty reserved during his
Christmas trip to visit Owen, but that could be explained by being away
from home for the first time and being thrust into social situations he was
unaccustomed to.  'But now,' Lucas thought, as he watched Sally try to draw
Sam out, 'he's in his own environment.  He should be the laughing and
smiling person Owen always described.  Something's going on,' Lucas
realized.  'I wonder if Sam is even aware of the change in himself.'

	"Bea was tellin' me that your folks are going to be heading home
soon, and that your Dad is lookin' really good," he heard Sally say.  "I
know havin' them back, and healthy, will be a big burden off your
shoulders.  I'm really happy for you."

	"Thanks, Sally," he answered, in his soft voice.  "They're not
heading home for a while yet, but it's good to know that they'll be back
soon.  I've found that I miss both of 'em more than I would have imagined."
She patted him on the shoulder, smiled at Lucas, then moved to the door to
greet some new arrivals.

	Sam returned the casual greeting of the newcomers, then returned
his attention to Lucas, with an apologetic smile.

	"I know we see each other all the time back at your place," Lucas
began, "but there's been so much high drama surrounding Owen and Jonah's
father, and the conversation with the doctor, the other night, that you and
I don't get to talk."

	Sam grinned.  "I'm feeling the same way.  I'm always feeling as if
I'm bein' pulled in three different directions, or more . . ." his grin
morphed into a smile.  "Of course, I'm worrying about Dad and Mom, and how
they're doing.  I'm trying to keep them up to date about everything going
on, but it's not the same for them as bein' here.  Now, with school and
Jonah n'all," he shrugged.  "It's just too much.  I feel as if I'm being
batted around like a billiard ball, or something."  He thought a moment.
"Hmm, a billiard ball doesn't get batted, does it?"  He shrugged, his
thoughts clouding his eyes.  "I don't have any control over anything."  He
shyly grinned.  "I guess I must be more of a controlling type of guy than I
thought I was.

	"Y'know," he added, suddenly intent.  "Owen has told me how
grateful he is that you were the very first person he met when his plane
landed.  I'm glad too.  I worried a lot about him going off on his own like
he did.  At least when I went to visit you guys, I could use Owen as a
model.  If he'd managed the plane trip n'all, so could I.  Then," Sam
smiled, flashing his perfect teeth, "who do I meet at the airport?  The
same person Owen did!"

	Lucas paused a moment, recalling meeting Owen, then, later, Sam.
"May I ask you something?  You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
Sam nodded.

	"I've noticed that you're more quiet than you were when you came
out for a visit at Christmas.  Owen has commented that you seem so
depressed, or something.  I'm wondering, if you being quiet has to do with
me."  Sam's eyes widened.  He opened his mouth to speak but was prevented
by an upraised hand.  "Honesty, Sam.  I'm not normally an insecure person,
but damn, I don't want you to be unhappy because of me.

	"Are you wishing you were partnered-up with Owen and not me?  I
mean, that was both your and his dream . . . someday, to be together.  Now,
when Owen's finally back in town, and that dream is a possibility, there I
am, a fly in the ointment, so-to-speak.  Is that one of the reasons you're
more quiet than usual?  I know that your father's health is the primary
reason, but I can't help but think that my presence may be adding to your
problems."  Lucas paused.  "The doctor may think that getting the four of
us guys together and giving us a relationship pep talk will make things run
smoothly from here on out, but I don't think it's going to be anything like
that.  Life . . . and relationships . . .  just aren't as simple as the
doctor seems to think.  Are you comfortable with how things turned out
after the doctor's talk?"

	Sam laughed.  "Whew!  So many questions.  First though, why would I
resent you, or the way things are turning out?  Ever since we met, I've
considered you to be a good friend.  Of course, I knew how well you'd
treated Owen, and I could've liked you for that alone.  But, then I met
you, and I liked you because of you not because of how you'd treated Owen."
Sam sat back.

	"As for being more . . . subdued," he shrugged, "I don't know what
to say about that.  Since Owen left for school, things in my life are
. . ." he hesitated, "well . . . let's just say, things have been
complicated, both mentally and emotionally."  Sam stared into the distance,
his meal forgotten.  "As for the doctor's pep talk, as you call it, I agree
with you.  The doctor was trying to get the four of us to talk to one
another.  We sorta did, but, at the same time, we sorta didn't.  Nothing
was really settled.  He seems to think a lot was accomplished, and I'm
thinkin' that the four of us went along 'cause we were uncomfortable, or
something.  I mean, things sounded just fine while we were at his place,
but . . ."

	Lucas nodded once.  "Owen still loves you, you know, and I know,
just from watching you, that you still feel the same about him.  You can't
hide it.  Your feelings are written on your face for everyone to see."

	"Yeah, well," Sam blushed and bowed his head, tracing a pattern on
the checked tablecloth.  "Owen's easy to love."

	"So are you, you know," Lucas replied.  "I've never met a more
generous individual.  Look at all you've done for Jonah, and your folks.
Then, there's Owen.  If I'd come into most people's already-established
relationships, and took one of the people away, the other would be kicking
and screaming."

	Sam smiled.  "You didn't take Owen away from me, Lucas.  He was
never mine, no more than I was ever his.  If Owen didn't want to be with
you, he wouldn't be.  He may seem like a person who just goes with the
flow.  He's not.  More'n likely, he's the one to change the flow by
stirring things up, t'get people thinking.  Sometimes, I'm not sure even he
knows what he's doing, it's so subtle.  He influences how people behave
just by bein' who he is.  He's an example everyone who knows him tries to
live up to.  He's endured so much, yet he continues to smile and laugh."
Sam shook his head, drawing himself back to his conversation with Lucas.
So . . . leaving all that stuff aside . . . no, I don't resent you.  In
fact, I'm thinkin' more of you right now than I ever have, for considering
my feelings."  He blushed.  "I'm wishin' we were back home, so I could give
you a hug and a kiss, just to show you."

	Lucas smiled.  "I'll remember you said that, so don't think I won't
collect."  Sam eyes sparkled as he laughed in one of the first carefree,
unguarded moments Lucas had witnessed since arriving in Riverton.

	"I look forward to it.  Y'know, you make me feel good," Sam
grinned.  "I enjoy being around you.  You're so easy to talk to.  I don't
feel all stressed bein' with you."  He paused.  "I like that."

	It was Lucas' turn to feel the heat of a blush on his cheeks.
"Ever since we met during Christmas," he said, "I've wanted to get to know
you better.  I'd like to get to know the real Sam, the one Owen talks about
all the time; the one who laughs and giggles and is afraid of being
tickled."  Sam's eyes widened at the mention of being tickled."

	"Lucas," Sam said, nodding his thanks to the woman who set his meal
on the table.  "What's all this talk about me?  I assumed, especially after
the other night at the doctor's, that I was no longer a part of the picture
with you'n Owen."

	"Then, you were wrong."  He paused.  "You will never not be part of
Owen's picture, and I'm increasingly hoping you'll always be part of mine."
He shook his head.  "I'm not sure what I'm feeling means for Jonah, but I'm
beginning to feel much as Owen does . . . when he wonders why can't his
life include both you and me.  I've enjoyed being around you, here in
Riverton, but I enjoyed your Christmas visit more.  Not just because I
finally got to meet you, but because of how much I enjoy being around you.
It was great fun, just the three of us, you'n Owen, and me."

	Sam smiled.  "It was fun . . . both the visit," he paused, "and the
time spent in the bedroom . . . and the shower . . . and the living room."
He chuckled.  "Am I leaving out a room?"  Lucas shook his head, beginning,
for the first time, to see the laughing, carefree person Owen spoke of.
Sam's smile turned pensive.  "I enjoyed being with you and Owen in that big
ol' bed of yours.  When we first started, I was afraid that I might be
jealous, seein' you with him, naked n'all, and I guess I probably was, for
just a moment.  But that all disappeared when I realized that you hadn't
staged the sexual encounter to show me how much Owen cares for you.
Instead, you were showin' me that you really wanted all of us to be
together on an equal basis.  Right then, whatever jealousy I was feelin'
went straight out the window.  You paid as much attention to me as you did
Owen, and I don't think any of it was out of a feeling of obligation,
knowing you'd have Owen to yourself once I left for home."  His smile
returned.  "I' ve always had great fun when Owen and I were together.
Being with you both made things even more fun."  He leaned across the
table, lowering his voice.  "I've masturbated . . . many times
. . . thinkin' of the three of us, together like we were."  He squirmed
slightly.  "In fact, the thought has made me begin to stiffen-up."

	Lucas laughed.  "Oh, dear!  We can't have that.  With Owen or me it
wouldn't be so noticeable, but with you!"  Lucas rolled his eyes, pleased
with the blush his comments had caused.  "Besides, I think you told me that
once you get that thing of yours pumped up the only way you can get it to
. . ." Lucas looked at Sam from beneath slightly lowered eyelids . . . "to
deflate, is to shoot a load, I believe were your exact words.  If things
get too . . . hard . . . maybe Sally would let you borrow a table cloth or
something . . . you know . . . to cover yourself with, when you're running
home to take things in hand, so to speak."

	Sam laughed without reservation.  "You're crazy.  Has anyone ever
told you that?"

	Lucas shook his head.  "Nope.  In fact, people have always told me
that I'm way too serious.  I guess you just bring out the best in me
. . . or something," he concluded.

	"Y'know," Sam spoke slowly, as if choosing his words carefully.
"I've never thought that three people in a relationship with one another
could work.  After experiencing what I did during my Christmas visit, I
know I was wrong.  Whenever, I'm with Owen, I feel so good, but when you
were added into the mix I felt a lot better n'good.  I've watched you since
you guys arrived, y'know," Sam continued, after a pause.  "You're in love
with Owen, and you care for me, enough to be afraid of hurting me.  You
sorta act guilty, as if you don't deserve Owen's affections, or are afraid
of me seeing how much he cares for you."

	"Are you happy, Sam?  I mean really happy, like wanting to stand on
a street corner and shout to the world how you feel?"

	Sam glanced up, thought a moment, then shook his head.  "No, I'm
not that sort of happy.  I haven't been since . . ." he looked away, then
back, his mouth twisting into a semblance of a grin, leaving the thought
unvoiced.  "Are you . . . happy like that?"

	Lucas rubbed his forehead.  "I asked for that, didn't I?  I mean, I
asked you, so it should come as no surprise for you to ask me."

	"Why are you not wanting to answer the question?"

	Lucas heaved a sigh.  "Because, when I tell you that, yes, I'm
happy, it'll all boil down to being with Owen, and we're right back to
where we started, though there's more to my happiness than Owen.  I'm am so
happy, here in Riverton, being around Bea, Abigail, Opie, Jonah, and you.
I love how I feel free for the first time in my life.  I love the
opportunities which hover tantalizingly before my eyes.  But . . . Sam
. . . most of all, I'm happy because you and Owen are in my life."  He
grinned crookedly.  "Sorry for getting all maudlin, but," he shrugged,
"it's true.  I am so lucky.

	"We both are, Lucas," Sam grinned.  "Thank you for inviting me to
lunch.  I'm feeling . . . good."

	"Does that mean you won't have to rush home to take care of
things?"

	"No, there's no rush.  In fact, I'm hoping that Owen's home when we
get back, 'cause I'm thinkin' I'd like a big group hug."

	"And kiss?" Lucas asked, his brows raised.

	"Hmm," Sam's eyes sparkled.  "Perhaps."


----------


	"See'ya Art!" Lucas called as the barber stepped out of the car.
The drive back to Riverton had been fun.  Lucas had found that Art was a
real character; someone he enjoyed being around.  Today though, Lucas was
especially pleased.  He'd purchased the three buildings of Art's.  In one
step, he became a landowner, and his vision of becoming a businessman, was
underway.  Now that this first step was out of the way, setting up a
business was next.

	He had committed himself, and felt as if he was starting on a new
adventure.  He'd not done everything alone though.  He'd spent hours
speaking with his father, and the various people his father had put him in
touch with, presenting his ideas, his business plan, and modifying both
ideas and plan, until he and his "consultants" were pleased.  As he had
promised, his father had "bought in" to Lucas' plan.  He'd assured Lucas
that he was not making a donation, in support of his son's project, he was
convinced the project could succeed, and he wanted in at the beginning.

	"It's exciting!" he'd enthused, during their most recent telephone
conversation.  "The whole thing is so much different from anything I have
ever considered doing.  Your mother and I are very proud of what you're
about to do, and of your motivations.  The town of Riverton has yet to
learn how lucky it is to have you as a resident."  Lucas' chest swelled,
basking in his father's praise.  The fact that such praise was given only
when it was truly deserved, made him especially pleased.

	Once his father had given the thumbs' up signal, Lucas had plunged
in and had begun recruiting his friends to become part of the effort.

	Jonah had been first, since the entire idea had sprung from his
dreams for growing things year-round.  Jonah had jumped at the opportunity,
but at the same time had appeared daunted by the job.  "Why are you giving
me all this?" he'd asked.  Lucas had laughed.

	"I'm not giving you anything, other than an opportunity to do
precisely what I've heard you tell everyone were your dreams.  They're my
dreams too, Jonah."  Owen agreed.

	"You can do it, Jonah.  Between you'n Lucas, and Sam, things around
here are gonna change."  He'd laughed.  "I'd bet that in a couple years,
none of us will recognize Riverton."

	For his part, Sam had been instrumental in recruiting instructors
from the nearby community college, pointing out that they and their
students could get hands-on experience by providing both their input and
their labor to make the project a reality.

	Now, with the purchase of the buildings he had dreamt of, since the
first time he and Owen had walked past, the first tangible part of his plan
had fallen into place.  He could barely contain himself, he was so happy.

	Lucas stepped from Art's car, onto the sidewalk in front of his
buildings.  "Thanks, Art," he said, leaning down to look into the car,
where Art was smiling.  "I hope you'll be pleased with what I hope to do
with your buildings."

	"Not mine," Art corrected.  "The three ladies belong to you."  His
smile broadened.  "You'll treat them well."

	"Count on it!"  Lucas called, as the car pulled away from the curb.


----------


	The surroundings had taken on a honey-like glow as the sun
disappeared behind a distant bank of clouds.  In the distance, children
could be heard as they played in the park, happy shouts which matched the
more subdued happiness Daniel felt as he and Bea left Sally's Restaurant.
They strolled, hand-in-hand, greeting other folks who were spending the
evening in the same way.

	Daniel's low, "hmm," of irritation interrupted Bea's story about
her youngest daughter, Opie's crush on Lucas.

	"My favorite person in the whole world," he murmured, through a
gritting-teeth smile, as he turned in the direction of Maxine, the town's
grocery store owner, and lead troublemaker.

	It was the first time since her husband's death that either Bea or
Daniel had come across the stick of a woman, and seeing her caused the
comments Bea's husband had made about the woman, moments before he died, to
resurface.  "They're all fools," he'd shouted in a wavering voice, into the
stifling air of the courtroom.  "All sneakin' 'round behind my back, just
like Maxine told me they did."  She steeled herself for whatever venom the
woman might spit.

	"Well," Maxine huffed, her hands her hips, as she raked a searing
glance over the couple.  The man and woman she had been speaking with
looked on uncomfortably while their children gaped open-mouthed at the
angry woman.  "It's finally out in the open," she spat, gesturing to Daniel
and Bea's hands and turning back to the man and wife, who smiled
apologetically at Bea.  "The goody-goody doctor didn't wait but a minute
before making indecent proposals to the grieving widow."  She paused a
moment.  "Grieving widow indeed," she derisively snorted.  "Probably drove
her poor husband to his grave, behaving as she does."

	"Why, hello, Maxine," Daniel smiled brightly, the venom the
dried-up stick of a woman spat at him rolling off with no effect.  "It's
been such a long time since we've seen one another."  He paused, pleased
with the rising color in Maxine's cheeks.  It was not often anyone in
Riverton talked back to the town's grocer, for fear of being banned from
her small store.  This evening, Daniel felt as if he'd had more than enough
of both the woman's innuendo and outright lies.  "I must say though," he
continued, returning the slight tightening of Bea's fingers, linked with
his own.  "I must say," he repeated, "that I'm surprised to see you up and
about during daylight hours . . . and walking too!"  He glanced around.
"Did someone steal your broom?"

	"Daniel!" Bea chided, surprised when one of the children who
overheard the comment turned to his mother.

	"I didn't know Miss Maxine rode a broom, Mama.  Does that mean
she's a witch?"  The boy's mother, blushing furiously, didn't know what to
do.  At her side, her husband was having a difficult time controlling his
smile, while in front of them, Maxine had turned an ugly shade of red.

	Before the mother could answer the little boy's sister chimed in.
"A'course she's a witch, stupid!  Just look at her!"

	"Children!" the woman warned, struggling to hide her smile as
Daniel and Bea walked on, leaving Maxine sputtering in indignation.  "You
shouldn't say such things."  She gathered her two charges, along with her
husband and made a hasty retreat, leaving Maxine to fume.

	"She's probably out looking for a job, hoping to hire herself out
as a scarecrow," Daniel added, loud enough for only Bea to hear.

	"You really shouldn't have said those things," Bea murmured,
sneaking a look over her shoulder . . . and in front of people, too!"

	"Perhaps," he grinned, drawing Bea closer to him.  "But, I don't
appreciate anyone making the woman I love into a subject for their sick
brand of humor."

	Bea stopped.  "Love?" she asked, turning to Daniel, her eyes wide.
The bruises inflicted by her late husband were healing and she was once
again beginning to resemble the beautiful woman Daniel remembered.  "Oh,
Daniel," she managed to say, on an exhaled breath, sparing only the
briefest of glances in Maxine's direction.  "Truly?"

	Daniel smiled tenderly and nodded once.  "I have loved you for
years . . . from a distance.  You are the only woman I have ever loved, and
it about killed me to see how . . . your husband . . . treated you.  There
was nothing I could do but watch out for you, hoping that, if ever the
occasion should arise, I would be able to help."  He looked at her with a
wry grin.  "A fat lot of good my help proved, breaking my arm like I did.

	"I guess I had visions of coming to the rescue of the damsel in
distress, only to find that I'm not much of a knight, after all."

	"Oh,"Bea murmured, as she ran her fingertips over Daniel's cheeks,
"but you were my knight, Daniel.  You were the man I always thought of when
I dreamt of goodness, kindness, and tenderness.  In the deepest secret
corner of my mind, I have always loved you too . . . my brave knight."


----------


	Lucas held the door for Bailey, squinting into the bright sunlight.
Bailey, as always, was prepared, and slipped on a pair of designer
sunglasses.  Lucas had been showing him the spaces he intended to renovate
into his and Owen's home.  He'd even gone so far as to suggest that Bailey
and Corey might use the building next door for their own home.  Bailey had
appeared interested, but had not committed himself to anything.

	"Tell me," Bailey began, as Lucas locked the heavy metal door and
lovingly ran a hand over the sandstone wall.  "Are you really planning to
move here?  I can understand you wanting to set up a business, but surely
Jonah will be able to run it, after being given adequate training, of
course.  He's a bright guy.  And, Sam will be with him, to lend his
expertise.  He seems anxious to put into practice some of the things he's
learned in school."

	He shook his head as they strolled down the sidewalk, passing tubs
of bright flowers in front of some of the shops, pausing a moment to greet
their owners.  "I mean the people are wonderful," Bailey continued, "but
. . ."  He seemed to search for words, then shrugged.  "It's so unlike
where we grew up.  Can you leave all that you've been reared to be,
behind?"

	Lucas' smile faded as Bailey spoke.  He moistened his lips, trying
to organize his thoughts.  Bailey was correct.  Riverton was vastly
different from his childhood home, but there was something equally
compelling about the place.  He'd been prepared to like the town for no
other reason than because it was the place where Owen grew up, but after
the first night, he'd realized the town could be appreciated for its own
merits.  Every day since he and Owen had arrived, he'd become more
convinced that this was the place he wanted to be.  There was a
friendliness and sense of freedom here he'd never experienced.

	The friendly people were foremost in his thoughts, mostly Owen's
family, of course.  He smiled whenever he thought of the times he had
sprawled on the living room floor with Owen's little sister, Opie,
listening to her talk about the latest picture she was drawing.  She would
hug him, Owen, Jonah, and Sam each time they prepared to return home after
a dinner at Bea's, but she only would kiss him.  "I only kiss handsome
men," she'd told Owen in a serious voice before breaking into childish
giggles.  "You've got too many muscles," she told her oldest brother.
"Jonah's too skinny, and Sam, he doesn't smile enough."  She put her arm
around Lucas' waist and snuggled close as he rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Lucas is just right," she'd announced, smiling brightly up at Lucas, then
at her brothers and Sam, while in the background Bea and Abigail did their
best to hide their amusement.  Opie had always been so quiet.  Now that her
father wasn't around, she'd blossomed, possibly more so than anyone else in
the family.

	'Of course,' Lucas thought, continuing to think of why he loved
Riverton, 'Owen's here . . . and Jonah, and Sam.  The nights are so quiet,
the stars so bright, and the air so clean.'

	He studied Bailey who was watching him.  "I've found a place where
I can grow, Bailey.  Living here is not leaving all I've been reared to be,
behind.  It's taking all I've been reared to be, and putting it to use.
It's a place where I can do what I want to do, and be my own man."

	"But," Bailey persisted, pausing only when Lucas held up a hand.

	"You're correct.  It is totally different from home.  It doesn't
have many of the things I've been accustomed to, things like the symphony,
the opera, or the museums.  It's a pared-down existence.  When I met Owen,
I began to question why I needed many of the things I owned.  I've begun to
realize that living more simply than I ever have can be very satisfying."
He held up a hand to forestall the comment he could see forming in Bailey's
mind.

	"I don't intend to live in a log cabin, Bailey."  He glanced toward
the buildings he'd fallen in love with.  "You've seen the space and heard
what I intend.  When I'm done my home won't be that much different from
your loft, back at school.  You could do the same with the building next
door.  You and Corey would make it into whatever you wish.  It's yours, if
you want it."

	Bailey slowly shook his head.  "I'm trying to picture myself here,
Lucas.  I really am, but I don't know if I can.  Even with all the positive
things you mention, I still feel as if I'm part of the city."

	"What about Corey?" Lucas murmured, studying Bailey through his
eyelashes.

	"Yeah."  Bailey heaved a sigh.  "I ask myself that constantly.
What about Corey?  Would it be fair to ask him to live in the city?  Would
it be fair to me to be asked to live in Riverton?  The answer to both
questions, of course, is no.  I keep telling, both Corey and myself, that I
can make the adjustment to a," he glanced around, "more pared-down
existence, but . . ." he shrugged, "I don't know if I can.

	"I'm trying to be realistic, Lucas.  I've made so many changes, in
the past months.  I'm different in so many ways from the person you grew up
with, but I don't believe I'm different enough to leave everything I've
known behind.  I want to try, yet I wonder if I try, and then fail, if
it'll be worse than never to have tried."  He gestured to a wrought iron
bench located in the shade of an oak, inviting Lucas to join him.  "I
dislike not succeeding at something.  You know that."  His mouth twisted
into a crooked grin.  "That's one of the reasons I keep pushing myself to
reinvent what I am."  Bailey lapsed into silence as he watched some
laughing children run by.

	"He's just so damned decent!"

	Lucas blinked, wondering at the conversation's new direction.

	"Corey, I mean.  I know he's hating having to leave Riverton to go
back to school.  If it were up to him, he'd stay, but he's only a couple
months away from graduating, so he knows if he wants to teach, he can't
stay."

	"Teach?"

	Bailey nodded.

	"For some reason, I never knew what he was majoring in.  He'll be a
good teacher," Lucas added.

	"I agree, but I can't envision Corey, the soft-spoken Southern boy,
teaching a bunch of inner-city toughs, like he might have to do if he
stayed in the city.  They'd run right over him, if for no other reason than
his accent.  Someplace like Riverton would be perfect for him.  He can
relate to the people here much more than in the city, and they can relate
to him.  He'd be at home here."

	"Are you thinking of calling things off with him?"

	"No," Bailey answered, immediately.  "Yes . . . I don't know."  He
sighed.  "I want him to be happy, Lucas.  I want him to be free to do what
he thinks best for himself, without having to consider me.  At the same
time, I want the same things for myself.  I'm beginning to think that the
two desires are mutually exclusive."


~ to be continued ~

	Thank you for taking the time to read my work.  I *always* welcome
your email and enjoy hearing your thoughts.  If you would like me to send
you a pic of the character(s), please ask.

Roy Reinikainen
roynm@mac.com