Chapter 4 – Chapter 4

Bran once again was awakened by a kick to his boots. It wasn't day yet, but there was a good five inches of snow on the ground, which was reflecting light from the attempt of the sunrise to peek over the Hahn Peak ridge to the east, across the Slater Creek valley.

"Figured you could use some hot breakfast," a gruff voice said. Bran opened his eyes to see Jeremiah standing over him, a plate of porridge in one hand and two mugs of steaming coffee in the other, his fingers laced through the handles. Bran was sore, but he didn't regret the previous night at all. Jeremiah was, indeed, the biggest man he'd ever taken. And he would be OK to be taken by him again.

He sat up and accepted the plate and one of the mugs. Jeremiah crouched down on his haunches and held the other mug of coffee in both hands, letting the warmth penetrate his hands.

"It snowed again last night."

"I could tell," Bran answered.

"Definitely no going over Antelope Gap today."

"Oh . . . well."

"How did you come by that painted pony there, son? You didn't steal it, did you?"

"It's from Toliver's livery down in Hayden," Bran answered. "I did work for the Tolivers. They didn't pay me."

"But they didn't give you the horse, did they?"

"No, not exactly."

"Being as you are coming direct from Pennsylvania . . ." he said it so both knew he didn't believe that one, ". . . then you probably don't know that men get strung up around here for stealing horses. No trials necessary."

"Oh."

"I should turn you in. Take you down to Hayden and turn you over to Cale Toliver—and maybe even to Levi Yost. I doubt Levi gave you leave to go either. Bet you have some sort of contract there. Place is owned by Warren Savage, owner of the Big O ranch. Mean son of a bitch. Bet you didn't know that either. He's not likely to let an investment run away."

"I . . . just . . . want to be movin' on," Bran said in a small voice. "So . . ." He gave Jeremiah a plaintive look.

"So, I'd say, seein' as how the snow is only slowly getting' here from over the mountain, that I'd best take that painted pony back down to Hayden and leave it where it will be found but folks will think it broke out of the livery by itself."

"Oh. You'd do that for—?"

"I should be overnight doin' it and I'd best get to doin' it. Eat up on that breakfast and then come into the cabin. You can stay there while I'm gone. I'll show you what's what there."

There wasn't much to show, and Bran stood by the door to the corridor to the outhouse, trying to keep out of the way, while Jeremiah rummaged around for what he needed to take with him.

"It's mighty nice of you to do this for me," Bran said.

Jeremiah answered with a grunt.

"I wish there was something I could do to show how grateful—"

Jeremiah looked up at him. Bran could see it in the man's eyes. There was certainly something Bran could do.

They fucked on the braided rug, Bran on all fours and Jeremiah crouched over him, fucking him like a dog. Bran had moved toward the bed when they'd both realized what they were going to do, but Jeremiah had pushed him down on the rug, saying in a rough voice, "No, not on the bed. Not there. The floor's good enough."

Once Jeremiah was gone, Bran looked around the cabin. He needed to do something else to show his gratefulness. The cabin was so drab. It wasn't long until he was out in the forest, picking out a tree and chopping it down with an ax he'd found in a stump in the yard. He brought that in and got it stood up in a corner on the fireplace wall. He went out and chopped wood and brought it in and stacked it on the other side of the fireplace.

He looked critically at the tree. It needed something else to make the cabin look Christmassy. He went out in the barn and scrounged around, finding an old stirrup here and some tops of tin cans there, and bits and pieces of metal elsewhere. The tree looked better with those stuck in its branches, but it still didn't look very Christmassy.

He threw open the shutters inside the two windows and let the light in. That did it. The light shining off the metal ornaments really brought in the spirit. Candlelight and light from the fireplace would do it at night.

Having brought in the light, though, he saw how dusty and dingy it was in the cabin. He used most of the time Jeremiah was gone cleaning out the cabin. Then he went back into the woods and brought in branches of holly, with a profusion of red berries. Putting those here and abouts in the cabin really brought in the season.

He didn't know why Jeremiah didn't want him to use the bed to fuck him, but he respected that he didn't—and he thought the aversion might extend to him being on the bed at all—so he slept on the braided rug the night he was alone. With the fire going, it was much better than trying to sleep in the barn had been.

It snowed again that night, bringing the depth outside to more than six inches. Bran went to sleep thinking of Jeremiah's big cock—and what he'd done with it—and masturbating himself to sleep.