Jared's hair was longer than Justin remembered as he stood there staring at his older brother.  In some ways it felt familiar being around him again, maybe even comforting; in other ways, however, it seemed odd and awkward.  He felt Brian's hand tighten around his waist, but otherwise Brian remained silent as Justin asked, "What are you doing here?"

The normal cockiness that would be evident in Jared's stance wasn't there as he stood with hands jammed into his jean pockets; Justin recognized his brother's shirt as - ironically enough - one that he had purchased for him as a Christmas gift a couple of years ago. He wondered briefly if his choice to wear it was a coincidence or intentional. 

"I came with the sheriff," was the surprising reply. 

Justin and Brian glanced over at the back of the house; sure enough, Billy's somewhat beat-up police car was parked by the rear gate.  "What is the sheriff doing here?" Justin asked him.  Lately any time the sheriff was involved, it was normally not a good thing.

"He came to talk to our parents about your...accident," he explained, stumbling over the last word.  He still couldn't help feeling at least partially responsible for what had happened, even though he wasn't aware of what Doug had been planning. "...And to let them know what's going to happen to Doug." 

"What IS going to happen to Doug?" Brian asked then, his jaw set in a hard line.  He still didn't trust Jared; he had a suspicion he would never trust him, not after the way he had treated Justin. 

"I'm not sure," Jared admitted. "The sheriff wanted to wait until you were around, so he didn't have to repeat what he was going to say."

The two boys exchanged a look before Brian asked tersely, "What about my aunt and uncle?  It's not just Justin's injuries; that fucker was responsible for my cousin's death, too, remember?" 

"I remember," Jared answered defensively.  "How could I forget?"

"You shouldn't forget!" Brian snapped, as he pulled Justin a little closer.  "You helped to get your own brother almost killed!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Jared brushed his right hand through his hair in agitation as he peered over at his brother.  "I never wanted you to get hurt, Justin!  And I never knew anything about Dale - or Doug's involvement in his death or your accident - until he told me himself.  And it made me sick to my stomach."  He paused for a moment before he asked, "Surely you believe that."

"Why should he believe anything you say, Jared?" Brian retorted.  "You haven't exactly been the loving brother lately."

"Brian..." Justin pleaded as he placed his palm against the older boy's chest to try and sooth him.  "Please...Let it go. Let's go see what the sheriff has to say."

The older boy sighed, but did as Justin asked.  "Okay," he grumbled.  His eyes bored into Jared's for a few seconds to show him he meant business before he gently steered Justin toward the back of the house, not bothering to look behind them to see if Jared was following or not.

As they approached the house, they observed everyone gathered outside on the porch; partly, no doubt, to stay cooler under the branches of the century-old oak tree that provided ample shade for the backyard throughout most of the day.  The inside of the house wasn't air-conditioned, so apart from using window fans or keeping the windows raised, it was normally cooler to stay out on the back porch.

They noticed that Brian's aunt and uncle were there as well, sitting in the Taylors' swing at the end of the porch; Justin's parents were sitting in a wicker settee at the other end, with Billy leaning against the railing; a pitcher of lemonade was sitting on the matching wicker table in front of his parents.  Everyone turned to peer over at the two boys as they approached, observing Jared following from several feet away.

No one spoke until they unlatched the back gate and walked up the steps to the porch to join them, leaning against the railing.

"Justin...Brian," Billy greeted them as they stood facing him.  "I see Jared found you."

Justin didn't know what else to do but nod as Brian stood beside him; his presence served to calm him at the moment as he looked around at the anxious faces surrounding him.  "What's going on?" He asked nervously as Jared shuffled up the walkway, stopping at the bottom of the steps, uncertain of what to do or where to go.  He felt much like a pariah at the moment; caught between the life he used to have, and the one he was now forced to endure. 

Billy pushed his official sheriff's cap higher on his head as he explained, "I wanted to wait until everyone was all here before I updated you on what's going on - and what we have found out so far."  He peered over at Will and Sarah as he advised them, "The Kesterson boy has been fairly cooperative. He has agreed in writing to testify against the men who were responsible for your son's death in exchange for a lesser prison sentence."

Will's jaw twitched; it was hard for him to accept any type of concession where this other boy was concerned.  "The Lord has taught me not to be a vengeful man," he told Billy quietly.  "But I still want him to pay for his part in our son's death," he continued, his voice hard as steel.  "My boy's life meant something; I don't want him to be forgotten."

Sarah reached for her husband's hand in reaction as she assured him softly, "You know that won't happen, Will; not as long as he remains in our hearts."

"That's well and good, Missy," Will responded, his lips pressed tightly together.  Even though he believed in God, Sarah always had been the more faithful one.  "Maybe vengeance is wrong, but I still want justice for my boy.  Don't you?" he asked, turning to look at her.

Billy cleared his throat to get their attention.  "Justice will be served," he told them.  "The Kesterson boy has given us names and dates and details; enough information that we were able to identify several of the men who were involved with your son's death, as well as Justin's injuries.  Because of his cooperation, we've been able to round up almost all of the gambling cartel that had been operating behind the scenes at several race tracks throughout the State.  I'm confident that with his testimony - and with some of the information we are starting to obtain from the men we have in custody -we will be successful in getting a full conviction."  Billy's voice softened as he added, "I know nothing will ever bring your boy back.  But at least you will finally get a little vindication for your son's death.  I promise both of you that." 

Will stared unflinchingly into the sheriff's eyes before finally nodding.  He had known Billy long enough to believe he was both an honorable and a truthful man; if he assured him that the men behind their son's death would be brought to justice and properly punished, then he had to have faith that Billy would do as he promised.  "I'm going to hold you to that," he replied tersely, tightly gripping his wife's hand. 

Billy nodded back at him.  "I will do right by your boy, Will," he promised.

"So what's next?" Craig asked from his place on the settee. 

"After we're done questioning everyone we rounded up, they will be arraigned...and possibly offered bond."

"Bond?  Are you out of your mind, Billy!  Those men are at the very least indirectly responsible for my son's injuries at Red Mill!  He could have gotten killed.  Not to mention what happened to the Walker boy!"  Craig peered over at Will and Sarah then; they were no doubt thinking the same thing.  He shuddered at the thought of almost losing Justin.  Glancing over at his youngest son standing next to Will and Sarah's nephew, he noted how lately he and Brian seemed to be almost joined at the hip. Normally by the time there was a second child a parent would become more flexible and less protective of them, and willing for them to take more chances.  But somehow with Justin he found himself worrying about him even more than he had with Jared, despite his older son's penchant for getting into trouble.  While Justin was quite independent at times, there was also something vulnerable about him.  He suspected, however, that the Kinney boy would be hovering closely nearby for at least the next several weeks; in a way, he found that comforting.  It offered one more layer of protection for him.

Something suddenly occurred to Craig as he turned his attention away from his son to ask the sheriff, "Billy, you said earlier that almost all of the men responsible for Dale's death and my son's injuries had been apprehended." 

Billy nodded, sensing what was coming next.  "That's right.  Six of them in all, in addition to the Kesterson boy."

Craig nodded.  "So there are still some others out there somewhere."  It was more of a statement than a question. 

"Well...that's one of the reasons why I wanted to come out here personally to talk to all of you."  He paused, appearing uncomfortable, but it was part of his job.  "There's actually only one that we're aware of that is missing at the moment - someone by the name of Marty McComb...the one purported to be the ringleader." 

There was an audible gasp from both mothers.  No one liked the sound of that, perhaps least of all Brian, who had been quiet up until now.  "The ringleader?" he repeated.  "You're saying that the one - the chief person who planned Dale's death and was responsible for Justin's injuries - is still on the run?" 

Billy nodded in confirmation.  "Yeah.  He apparently fled as soon as word got out that the goons working under him were being rounded up, and were starting to talk.  I think he took what money he could get his hands on, and promptly skipped out of the county; maybe even the state.  Frankly, there's no telling where he could be right now; not until we get some sort of lead on his whereabouts.  I wish I had better news for you than that," he told them regretfully.  "But it's just a matter of time.  People like McComb who always want to be in charge can't stay hidden for very long; it's not in their nature."

"That may be," Brian countered.  "But you just told us you really don't know WHERE he is, do you? What if he comes after Justin?"

"Why would he do that?" Billy countered.  "Justin wasn't a witness to anything. He may be called to testify regarding the effects of the Ketamine after it was slipped into his water bottle, but he didn't see it done, and couldn't identify McComb. That's how those people work; they issue the orders, and then sit back and watch everyone else carry them out. They rule by greed and intimidation.  Well, some of his lackeys wound up not being as loyal as he thought; some of them are singing like canaries, now that their freedom is at stake."

"Are you saying some of them could walk?" Craig asked, incredulous. 

"No," Billy hastened to add, a little miffed that anyone would even think that.  "Depending upon their level of involvement - and any genuine remorse they may show - they may get their sentences lessened to some degree through plea bargaining. But I can assure you, NONE of them will ‘walk.'  They will still all be doing serious jail time." 

"You should be included in that group," Brian growled as he turned to glower down at Jared. 

Justin reached over to grip his forearm.  "Brian..."

The older boy turned to face back around to face him.  "Well, it's true, Justin! I don't care if he DID turn state's evidence - or whatever the hell you call it.  He might as well have put the Special K in the water bottle himself!"

"That's not fair!" Jared retorted in disbelief.  "I've told you! I had NO idea that Doug was going to do that! If I had known, don't you think I would have stopped him?"

"I don't know, Jared!  Would you have? You've been jealous of your brother from the first moment I saw you!"

Jared snorted, unable to let that comment slide; not when his pride was involved.  "I hardly think so!  He has nothing on me." 

Justin rolled his eyes in disgust.  One step forward, two steps backward.  Would it always be this way now?  In a weird sort of way, he actually MISSED his brother; well, at least the brother he USED to have.  "I've told you before, Jared; I've never considered us in competition with each other in the first place," he told his brother sadly.  "Why do you?"

"Enough!" Craig bellowed, startling everyone. Eyes flashing, he let out a huge sigh, trying to calm himself.  "This isn't getting us anywhere," he explained a little less vociferously as he lowered his voice.  "Billy, what is the next step?  You said their arraignment?"

Billy nodded.  "Yeah.  The prosecutor and I will do everything to ensure none of them are granted bail."

"See that you do," Will spoke up bluntly.  "None of them should ever see the light of day again - not after what happened to my boy." 

"I'll keep you all posted," he assured those present; peering over at the older Taylor boy, he advised, "We'd best be heading back into town now, Jared." 

Jared opened his mouth in derision.  "What's the point?" he snapped.  "It's not like I have anywhere to go!"

Craig frowned.  "I thought you were staying above the gas station."

Jared snorted.  "In Doug's apartment?"  His father nodded.  "Yeah, right.  As soon as the owner heard that his so-called tenant had been arrested, he promptly locked the place up tighter than a drum, and put a ‘for rent' sign up this morning.  There's no way I can afford rent on the place."  He peered over at his parents as he hesitated.  "Mom...Dad..."  He hated to grovel; in fact, he refused to beg.  But the fact was, with no money and no prospects for a job, he didn't have anywhere to go. 

Craig sighed, knowing what was coming as Jennifer reached over to clutch his wrist.  She stared over at him, a look of concern on her face. She hadn't liked it when their son had been kicked out of the house before - although she understood why - and this felt like it was happening all over again.  "Craig...maybe we can..."

"No, Jen," her husband replied firmly as he stared over at their older son.  "Jared still has to prove himself.  He's made a mess of things; let him get out of it now."  He hated having to be so rigid in his position; truth was, he missed the son who he had spent untold hours with out in the barn, working on their latest project. But lately his older son had been a major disappointment.  Perhaps there was a concession that could still be made, however.  "I suppose you could bunk out in the barn for now." he finally decided.  "You used to do that anyway all the time when you were younger. But only if Justin is agreeable with it...and only if you promise to help out with the chores until you can find a regular, paying job.  It's time you learn to take more responsibility, Jared, and prove that you really want to change." 

Jared huffed. He didn't know which one was worse; having to sleep out in the barn, or having to obtain ‘permission' from his younger brother to stay.  "Why the barn?" he groused.  "And since when does Justin dictate everything I do?" 

Justin scowled at him as Craig replied curtly, "Since you chose to associate with someone who almost got your brother killed.  Not to mention that you've done nothing but try to cause trouble, ever since Brian came to live with Will and Sarah." 

"That's not..."

"Don't even try to deny that," Craig told him as he glanced over at the Kinney boy and his aunt and uncle.  "Or I will rescind my offer." 

Jared sighed heavily.  "Okay, okay," he grumbled, knowing it was going to be the best he could hope for at the moment.

Craig nodded as he peered over at Justin.  "Justin, you're okay with this?"

Brian remained silent beside him, but he was dying to tell Craig that the last thing he wanted was for Jared to be given permission to return to Windswept Farm.  But he also knew it was not his decision to make; only Justin could decide if he was comfortable with the arrangement.

Not entirely to his surprise, Justin nodded after a few seconds.  "Yeah...it's okay," he replied softly, wanting to try and somehow patch things up with Jared.  He couldn't quite forget everything he had done - and he knew it wasn't really his brother's fault that he had been injured - but he also knew it would take some time for them to regain the previous warmer bond they had shared before.

Craig nodded again.  "Good. Then it's settled."  He eyed his older son intently.  "Where are your things?  You still have some clothes upstairs, so I guess that would do for now." 

Jared appeared a little uncomfortable as he admitted, "They're out in my duffel bag in the back of Billy's car."   He was having a hard time conceding that he had already packed up everything in hopes he would be able somehow to stay.

"That's Sheriff Renfro to you," Craig corrected him.  He shook his head in frustration before instructing him, "You can start by going out and cleaning off the tractor and giving it a tune-up.  It's been acting up lately, and probably needs an oil change and the spark plugs replaced.  Get busy. We'll call you in when it's time for supper later."

Jared bit back a ‘Gee, thanks,' as he rolled his eyes before turning around and heading down the back walk toward the gate, taking a moment to grab his duffel bag out of the sheriff's car and slamming the door harder than necessary before heading toward the barn.   

Billy broke the silence by stating, "I guess that's all the update I have for now. When I find out more about McComb and what happens at the arraignment with the others, I'll be back in touch.  And just so you know," he added as he peered over specifically at Jennifer and Craig, "I will have one of my deputies patrolling nearby several times a day, just to keep an eye on things here."

Jennifer's eyes widened.  "Do you think that's necessary?"

"More of a precaution," Billy assured her with a grim expression.  "I think McComb is long gone by now.  He's not a stupid man, or he couldn't have led such a big operation for so long undetected."

Jennifer nodded in relief.  "You don't want to stay for supper, Billy?" she asked, unable to let him leave without offering him something to eat. 

Billy shook his head with a smile as he took his hat off to wipe his brow before placing it back on his head.  "No, thank you, Jennifer. That's very kind of you to offer, but I'd best be getting back into town.  If you need anything," he added, peering over at the Walkers and then the rest of the group, "any of you...just give me a holler."

"Thank you, Billy," Sarah murmured, still trying to come to terms with everything they had learned.  Between learning more about their son's death, the cause of Justin's injuries, her sister and brother-in-law's less-than-pleasant visit recently, and Brian's surprising inheritance, her mind was reeling with all the events that had occurred.  As if sensing her discomfort, she felt Will's arm slide around her waist and pull her closer to him, instantly making her feel less uneasy.  She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, somehow conveying to him her gratitude.

"Sarah...Will...Craig...Jennifer," the sheriff acknowledged each of the adults with a short nod.  "I'll be going," he told them, as, with a respectful tip of his cap, he exited the porch and headed toward his car.

Everyone seemed to let out a soft sigh to let the thickness and tension on the porch dissipate slightly before Craig announced, "Well, at least we know a little more now."  He turned to his youngest son to counsel him, "Justin, until that McComb is caught, I don't want you leaving this farm."

"Dad, the sheriff said..."

"I know what he said, Son," Craig replied quietly.  "But I don't want you taking any chances.  Do I have to remind you - again - that you could have gotten killed, Justin?" 

Justin sighed heavily.  "No, I'm all too aware of that."  He shook his head.  "I still can't believe this.  I did nothing to them.  I didn't even know they existed!"

"What you did was outdo everyone else on the racetrack," Brian told him by his side.  "Jealousy makes people do some outrageous things.  So does greed." 

"I can't stop racing," Justin insisted to the others. "We...we need..."  He stopped then, realizing he was risking embarrassing his father; he knew how helpless he felt at times by not being able to provide adequately for his family.  He left the rest of his statement trail off, but was shocked a few moments later when his father spoke up. 

"We'll be okay, Justin," he father replied.  He smiled then, despite what had just occurred.  "I have a job starting Monday." 

Justin's mouth gaped open.  "You do?"  His father nodded.  "Where? How?" 

His father smiled a little more as he informed him, "The attorney who came in here for Brian's uncle's estate mentioned that they were looking for an accountant in one of the satellite law firms near Lexington.  He offered to set me up with an interview."

"That's where you were the other day when you were gone so long?"  He recalled his mom telling him that his father would be gone most of the day on ‘an errand,' but he hadn't really thought to question the reason why; it wasn't unusual for his father to go into town for various reasons having to do with the operation of the farm, and wind up not coming home until mid- to late-afternoon.

Craig nodded.  "Yes.  I just got a call an hour ago that I got the job.  And it's a good job, Justin.  It'll be a longer commute than if I were working in town, but it will be worth the extra travel - and with excellent benefits. So you can stop worrying about rushing back into racing.  We'll be okay...I promise." 

Justin smiled in delight; more for his father than for himself.  "That's great, Dad!" he told him sincerely as Jennifer grinned back at him in return.  "I mean, it's great about your job..."

"I know what you mean," he told him gently.  "But don't think I don't realize what you've done for us, Justin."  He paused, feeling a little uncomfortable in the presence of everyone else, but needing to say it nonetheless.  "I'm very proud of you, Son. And now you can concentrate more on your dream of going to college, and using your talent - combining your talents - to help others like you always wanted to do."  He stopped for a moment before telling him softly, "You don't belong on a farm, Justin. Not really.  Not as your life's work.  And now you won't have to worry anymore about that."

Justin's throat constricted over his father's words of encouragement and pride.  All he could do through glistening eyes was nod at him in response, feeling Brian squeeze his shoulder as he leaned into his side, needing the older boy's support.  Somehow he could feel his love for him in that simple touch as well. 

His father cleared his throat.  "And now, I have some tilling to do out back.  If you need me, Jen, I'll be out in the west field." 

Jen nodded.

He was about to leave before he added somewhat impulsively, "Will...Sarah..."  After brief consideration, he added, "Brian.  You are all welcome to join us for supper."  He looked over at Jen, who nodded in agreement.  "Jen always makes way too much food for us anyway," he told them with a smile.

Jen grinned, knowing she couldn't deny it; it was almost a southern tradition.  "I'll have plenty. Please say you'll join us." 

Sarah peered over at her husband questioningly.  "Up to you, Missy," he told her softly, knowing what their nephew's answer would be before they even asked; the boy found any excuse he possibly could lately to spend as much time with Justin as he could.  He wondered how Brian was going to feel when the boy he had come to care about so deeply headed off to college next year, however.  For now, though, at least he knew Brian meant to stay here with them on their farm, instead of returning to Pittsburgh.  That thought made him inexplicably happy; happier than he would have ever thought possible before. 

"You're very kind," Sarah told Jennifer.  "But I have something already prepared in the crockpot back home.  Perhaps some other time." 

"Of course," Jennifer told her, stifling a grin as she noticed the disappointment that flashed on Brian's face in reaction to what his aunt said.  "Well...maybe Brian would like to stay...?"  She couldn't help issuing the invitation; both boys looked like they had just lost their favorite puppy. 

Sarah glanced over at their nephew, who was practically glued to the Taylor boy.  Was it wise to encourage their relationship, knowing that eventually they would have to separate when Justin left for school?  She knew that was months away, and also knew somehow that this was no ‘school-boy' infatuation; she had always believed it possible you could fall in love at a young age, and something told her this was one of those times.  Her sentimental side couldn't resist, then. 

Brian and Justin's hearts were both pounding in anticipation as Brian replied to Jennifer, "Well...if you don't think I would be any bother..."  Please...he silently entreated as he looked over at his aunt and uncle.  Lately he couldn't spend enough time with Justin, even if it DID mean they would possibly have to endure Jared's company as well.  It was still worth it.

To his relief, Sarah glanced at Will, who issued a curt nod of acceptance before she responded, "Well, then, I guess we'll see you after supper, then, Brian. Don't forget you still have the tractor to wash off before bedtime, though." 

Brian was too happy to complain as he nodded.  "Yes, Ma'am," he replied, unable to keep from smiling. 

His smile was contagious as Sarah, too, smiled back at him.

"Then we'll be going," Will told the Taylors as he began to gently steer his wife toward the steps.  "Don't wear out your welcome, Brian," he advised his nephew half-seriously before he and Sarah headed toward the back gate.

Jennifer smiled; she couldn't figure out at that moment which boy was more besotted with each other, or happier that Brian was staying here.  "Justin, can you go check on the hives for me? I'm sure they must be getting pretty full by now, and I'm going to be completely out of honey soon." 

Justin nodded.  "Sure, mom."  He grinned over at Brian, who had no idea what he was about to get involved with.  "Come on, Brian; we're going cultivating." 

"Huh?" 

"I'll explain on the way," was the cryptic answer as he grabbed Brian's wrist and tugged him toward the back gate.

Ten Minutes Later...

Brian chuckled at the sight before him as Justin emerged from the small, wooden shed to the right of the barn; the outfit he had donned was clearly much too big for his slender frame, and practically swallowed him whole. This couldn't be his mother's outfit, either; she was much too petite to wear it, so it must be an extra or maybe belonged to Justin's father.

"What are you laughing at?" Justin scowled indignantly from his place near the shed, where his mother kept her working outfit and a spare hanging on a hook just inside the door. His intention had been for BRIAN to go retrieve the honey and wear the outfit, not him. But "Mr. Fashion Plate" had taken one look at the bizarre appearing clothing, and had promptly decreed that there was ‘no fucking way' he was going to be caught dead in an outfit that resembled one of the white, 50-lb. burlap sacks the feed store used in town to package the shelled corn they sold.  So, unfortunately, Justin's initial thought of being amused by Brian attempting to play beekeeper had been quickly dashed.

"You remind me of Marty McFly," he commented dryly. Brian secretly thought he looked adorable, though, in a rumpled, alien sort of way. "Are you any good at the Vulcan salute?" 

Justin promptly separated his fingers in the customary ‘V" shape as he asked with a grin, "You liked that movie, too?"  Ever since he had seen Back to the Future, he would have died for a REAL hover board, or a way to move ahead in time to maybe be just a bit older. 

Brian grinned back at him.  "Yeah," he told him as he walked closer to his companion who was now dressed completely in white except for the shoes and gloves.  He leaned in to press his lips against the mesh material of the face protector to steal a brief kiss from Justin.  "But he didn't look as sexy in it as you do."  He laughed as Justin promptly smacked him on the chest. 

"I don't look sexy in this!" he snapped, perturbed.  "I look like a poor man's version of a fucking astronaut! And stop laughing at me!"  He had to eventually crack a smile, though, as he looked at Brian's amused expression.  "Okay, maybe it IS a bit too large," he conceded.  "But you have to be careful around bees, and dress properly.  Those stings can really...well, sting."

Brian's smile quickly dissolved into a look of alarm as a thought occurred to him.  "Are you allergic to bee stings?"  He already knew HE wasn't - he had found that out the hard way when he had stepped on one coming back from the swimming hole.  It had hurt like hell for a while, but at least the discomfort went away after his Aunt Sarah had tended to it.  Was that only a few months ago? Sometimes, it seemed like forever.

"Relax, worrywart," Justin admonished him softly.  "I'm not actually allergic to bee stings, believe it or not, and I know from watching my mom what to do and what NOT to do.  YOU, on the other hand, certainly could get stung.  Besides, as long as the queen's there and the weather's cool, they shouldn't bother me." 

Brian eyed him skeptically.  "You've never been stung by a bee?"

"Well...I didn't SAY that," he admitted as Brian snorted.  "I just know when the best time is to gather honey, and this is a good time. If you let the hive get TOO full of honey, it agitates the bees because the queen doesn't have enough room.  And you can tell by their humming whether they're happy little buggers, or looking for a fight. You never want to go near them when it's raining or really hot, either."

Brian burst out laughing over his lover's personal service announcement, always marveling at the odd pieces of information Justin seemed to know.  "Oh, really?" he asked dryly.  He frowned as Justin reached over to pick up something that resembled an old-fashioned, metal thermos.  "What in the hell is that?" 

"It's called a smoker," Justin told him as he held it in his hand and checked it over.  "It helps to calm the bees while you're getting the honey."

"Well, it's not like any smoker I've ever seen," Brian observed in amusement.  "But there was Rodney Masters." 

"Rodney Masters?"

Brian nodded.  "We went to school together in junior high.  He used to hide out behind the bleachers to sneak a smoke, and couldn't exhale properly if his life depended on it.  He had so much smoke around him, I think I could have barbecued a steak with it."

Justin giggled as he reached inside a wooden box nearby to retrieve a bag of tools he would need, along with a metal bucket. "Come on, then - let's go smoke us out some honey."

Brian smiled as he held out his hand in a motion for Justin to lead.  "After you, then...honey." 

Justin grinned, knowing it was a joke, but he kind of LIKED the endearment as the two boys trudged up the hill toward the bee hives located several hundred feet away. 

Thirty minutes later, Justin had discarded the beekeeper outfit and placed the wooden frames known as ‘supers' down by the cellar entrance as Brian reached down to swing one of the wooden doors open; it created a loud noise as it banged against the side of the house. Moments later, they entered the cool, dank, dark space where the Taylors kept their canned goods and jars of processed honey.  Justin's mother would see to finishing up the job tomorrow over by the porcelain sink in the corner, but for now the supers would be placed inside a special, cooled container that resembled an old-fashioned freezer.

Reaching up to grab the piece of string that hung down next to a bare light bulb in the center of the cellar, the room lit up as the bulb swung slightly back and forth, allowing Brian a better look.  Along the walls of the small space, wooden shelf after wooden shelf held all sorts of fruits and vegetables that had been carefully cooked and then canned for consumption later; he figured there must have been at least a hundred jars.  He wrinkled his nose at one odd-looking row containing what appeared to be dark red ‘blobs.' inside.  "What the fuck is that? Looks like someone's pickled brains packed in their own blood." 

Justin scrunched up his nose. "Thanks a lot. Remind me this fall not to eat any of my mom's candied beets for Thanksgiving."  He lifted the heavy lid of the large cooling conainer, placing the supers down onto specially-made metal shelves, before closing it back up.

Brian grinned back at him, thinking briefly how great it was to actually imagine still being here for Thanksgiving, instead of back home in the Pitts.  He didn't reflect on what that might mean as far as how much he had changed since he had arrived here.  "Well, if you're a good boy, I'll give you some OTHER kind of candy."  He gently pushed Justin backward until the younger boy's back was pressed up against the far cement wall.  Justin shivered as he felt the coldness hit his back through the thin layer of his cotton shirt, but he soon warmed up as Brian's lips pressed against his, increasing quickly in ardor and pressure as he was pushed tighter into the wall.  Brian's hands were splayed, palms down, to either side of his body, effectively pinning Justin where he stood, but even if he could have escaped, he wouldn't have; he was enjoying himself way too much as his own hands came up to slowly roam over Brian's upper arms, feeling the sinewy hardness under his touch.  His body thrummed with sexual excitement as they continued to kiss; that is, until they were startled by the sound of Solomon barking at the top of the cellar steps.

"Shit!" Brian growled as they broke apart and Justin giggled.  "That dog's going to give me a fucking heart attack one day!"  He turned just in time to see Solomon bounding down the steps in response to his voice, bouncing excitedly up and down on his stubby legs and baying joyously.  "They would have to have a beagle for a dog."  He shook his head as he reluctantly let Justin go.  "Why don't you go find a nice duck or something to play with?"  He rolled his eyes as the dog peered up at him and furiously wagged his tail, oblivious to the tone of his voice.  Sighing, he impulsively reached down to scratch the velvety ears before he told him, "Go find a nice rabbit or a bitch to hump." The dog - seemingly satisfied for now and thinking there would be no more ear scratching or belly rubbing forthcoming - finally turned and bounded back up the steps, leaving the two boys alone again.

"Softy," Justin chided him with a smile as Brian huffed in protest; but they both knew the truth. Pecking Brian on the cheek, he grabbed his hand as they exited the cellar and closed the door back, not realizing that Jared was watching them from the barn.

His brother sighed in resignation; there was no longer any point in denying that his younger brother and Brian were infatuated with each other.   Maybe, if he were truthful, more than infatuated, if that was possible at Justin's age.  In a way, he felt more envious than jealous now, because he had never experienced that sort of feeling; his had always focused more on just plain lust and getting his rocks off.  But this...whatever it was...between his brother and Kinney seemed to be a lot more than that, despite Justin's young age.  He noticed the two of them staring over at him as they walked around the side of the house and toward the back gate; by the looks on their faces he knew he could no longer hold out any hope that he and Kinney would ever be anything more than connected through the person both of them cared about, but in much different ways. And he DID care, despite everything that had happened. Because in the end, years of brotherly love couldn't be wiped away with a few months of discord. 

"Justin?  Can I talk to you?" he quietly called over to his brother. He watched as he hesitated, Brian gripping his wrist and no doubt questioning his judgment, before he let go of Justin's hand to allow him to approach. He noticed, however, that Brian wasn't far behind as he followed him over to the barn.

Justin squinted at him through the bright sunshine directly above.  "What do you want, Jared?" 

Jared noticed the hand that clamped onto Justin's shoulder from behind as he spoke.  Kinney certainly is protective.  "I..." He sighed.  "Do we have to have a three-way conversation?"

"That's the only three-way you'll every have with me," Brian muttered as Jared rolled his eyes at him.

"Don't you think I realize that now?" he couldn't help retorting.  He sighed again.  "Okay," he began, focusing on his brother.  "I just wanted to tell you how bad I feel about what happened to you. And...about everything else." 

"Everything else?" Justin pressed, needing to hear it, even though after all these years he could almost read his brother's mind. 

Jared pressed his lips together in resolve before taking a deep breath.  "What I did to try and break the two of you up. The...lies..."  He took another deep breath and let it out.  "You've been my brother a lot longer than HE'S been here," he pointed out.  "And...he won't be the only guy I'll be with."

"Maybe not," Brian couldn't help interjecting.  "But you'll never be with me again - in any way, shape, or form."  He slid his arm around Justin's waist then as if to emphasize his point.

"I know that now; trust me!" Jared replied a little more sharply than he had intended.  Brian snorted at his choice of words, but he ignored them for now.  "Can we just call a truce, Justin?  I want my brother back." 

Justin eyed him for several seconds as if he were internally analyzing everything. Brian remained silent, apparently allowing Justin to decide for himself, until he finally nodded.  "Yeah.  I still don't trust you entirely," he informed him.  "But you are my brother.  It's going to take some time, though, for me to forget everything you did."  He turned to glance over his shoulder at Brian as he faced his brother again to add, "But I have everything I need now, and I'm happy.  And...I want you to be happy, too, Jared. I hope you find whatever you're looking for," he told him softly. 

Jared nodded, knowing for now that was the best he would get.  "Thanks," he murmured, stumbling slightly over the word as if he were tasting something sour.  It took a lot for him to admit mistakes, and he knew that Justin realized that. Hopefully, then, he would also realize how truthful he was being.  "Well...I'll be getting back to my chores, then." 

Justin nodded as he watched his brother turn and head back into the barn; a few seconds later, he could hear a banging noise near the back where the tractor was located as Jared apparently continued working on the tractor. 

"I hope you're not making a mistake, Justin," Brian told him quietly as Justin turned to face him.  "I believe he didn't mean for you to get hurt...but I still don't trust him totally." 

"I don't, either," Justin admitted, his hands placed on Brian's chest as he stared into the concerned, hazel-colored eyes.  "But he's my brother, Brian.  And...I still love him." 

Brian smiled at him tenderly.  "I know you do."  He hesitated before deciding, to hell with it.  "And that's one of the reasons why...I love you." 

Justin's smile threatened to rival the sun as he beamed back at him.  "And I love you."  They were about to kiss once more when suddenly they heard Jennifer calling out to them.  "Supper, boys!" she announced. "Will you let your brother know?"

"Yeah," Justin told her as she nodded before disappearing back into the house, the screen door banging behind her.  Brian brushed some errant hair back from his forehead - more of a restless gesture than anything - as Justin called out to his brother to inform him it was time to eat.  "Come on," he told Brian softly, reaching to clasp his hand.  "Forget about him, and let's just concentrate on us." 

Brian nodded with a slight smile as - hands swinging between them - the two of them headed toward the house.

Midnight - Walker Farm

The sound of thousands of crickets and tree frogs permeating through his open bedroom window barely registered in Brian's brain as he lay there, too wound up to sleep and thinking about the person who was always uppermost in his mind.  The dinner at the Taylor farm had actually not been as awkward as he had imagined; everyone seemed to concentrate on discussing subjects other than the ones they were all most thinking about - the sheriff's news he had given them earlier, and the ever-changing situation between Justin and Jared.  But he had to admit - Jared had been on his best behavior, not displaying his typical cockiness and smugness that he normally did.  They had all managed to get through dinner reasonably well; plus, he had had some time afterward to be alone with Justin out back on the porch, both of them feeling a bit awkward knowing Jared was somewhere in the barn, no doubt spying on their activities, so Brian had had to resort to some light kissing with his lover in lieu of what he really wanted so badly to do - take him in his arms and never let him go.  He wanted to protect Justin, to keep him from harm forever. But he also knew realistically he couldn't do that, nor would Justin want him to. Justin was a lot stronger than he might appear to be, and  his independence and resilience made him part of who he was.  That didn't mean he didn't constantly worry about him, however.

He sighed, his hands folded under his head as he lay there, so many things running through his head.  Justin...his plans for the future...the feeling of absolute exhilaration earlier today when he had been racing with True Blue around the Taylor's track...the inheritance he would soon receive.  What the hell would he do with all that money?  Oh, he definitely planned on helping his aunt and uncle to live a more comfortable, worry-free life, even though he expected to receive a lot of resistance from his uncle, especially. Both his aunt and uncle were very proud people, so he anticipated his offer to help them financially would not be met with ready acceptance. But he was determined anyway to show them his gratitude for all they had done for him. 

As for his practice with True Blue - what, if anything, would result from that?  Would it be a temporary way to satisfy his ‘need for speed' rush - or something else? He knew it was premature to even think about actually doing any racing. And besides, what would his aunt and uncle's reaction be when they found out what he was doing? It wasn't as if he were intentionally trying to hide it from them, but he hadn't actually been upfront about it, either.  He knew deep down they might not like the idea of their nephew following in their son's footsteps; not after what had happened to Dale. But that had been different; he knew how to take risks safely.  But he wasn't sure what their reaction would be.  He also knew, though, that he needed to tell them soon. 

He sighed; he knew at the rate he was going, he would never get to sleep anytime soon.  He turned his head to feel the warm breeze blowing in through the open window, seeing the full moonlight streaming in and almost making the room appear to be lit from within.  The moonlight only made him yearn to be with Justin, however, bringing back memories of other moonlit nights with him.  "Down, boy," he groaned as his cock stirred in response. He already knew if he ever DID get to sleep, what - or whom - he would be dreaming of.  Unheedful of how it sounded, he couldn't help wondering if Justin was lying in his own bed, thinking of him as well.  Slowly - in spite of what he had thought earlier - his body eventually succumbed to his weariness, and he finally fell into a light sleep, dreaming of a certain blond uppermost in his mind and firmly entrenched in his heart. 

Perched on an upturned, wooden apple crate in the barn, Jared sat near a lighted kerosene lantern, smoking a cigarette he had pulled from a pack found in Doug's now padlocked apartment; his supply of weed - along with his money - had quickly petered out to where he barely would have enough for a cup of coffee.  He had never thought he would wind up bunking back in the barn, where he used to hide several years ago, normally after he had done something he shouldn't have, and his father had voiced his disapproval. If he were honest with himself, though, he knew his father had always been fair to him; in fact, probably more than fair.  By the time Justin had come along, it had somehow evolved to where their father would favor HIM and not his younger brother.  He was also aware that his father had spent more time with him than with Justin; not intentionally, perhaps, but their mutual love of working on classic cars had translated naturally into spending more time together here in the barn.

He glanced over at the car he and his father had been working on a few weeks ago, noticing that some more work had been done in his absence.  How had everything gotten so fucked up?  He could only hope that somehow everything could be rectified; maybe not return entirely back to the way it was, but at least improved from what it was now.  He knew, also, that in order to do that, he would have to win back the trust of not only his father, but also his brother; the brother that he cared deeply for, but didn't quite know how to handle now that he had become more of a man than a boy. 

Rubbing the palm of his hand wearily over his face, he decided it was time to catch some shut-eye; he knew his father - if he followed his normal morning habit - would be up bright and early, here in the barn and expecting him to rise along with him to start on what he figured would be numerous chores he would have to accomplish. But if it meant reestablishing some sense of normalcy back into his life, he was prepared for it.

As he lay on top of the blanketed layer of straw laid out upon the barn loft's floor a few minutes later, Jared thought about the upcoming trials regarding his brother's injury and Dale's death, dreading having to get up and testify to what he knew, but knowing it was inevitable.  At least through the surveillance work the sheriff had done, he had now been cleared from any wrongdoing. But it didn't make the prospect of facing his former best friend in court and having to testify against him any less unpleasant.  He sighed, staring up at the top of the loft's timbered roof before turning his head to notice the moonlight streaming in through the outline of the barn door several feet away; the door he and Justin used to use so they could jump into a huge pile of hay when they were younger.  He smiled at the remembrance of it.  It was a good memory. Hopefully, sometime in the future, they could create some more good memories. Something told him that those memories might have to include a certain boy who was living next door. But oddly enough, he could accept that. One look at them earlier, and he knew he had no other choice.  He could only hope that one day someone else would look at him that same way.  Sitting up long enough to blow out the wick of the kerosene lantern, he settled on his back and closed his eyes before he finally drifted off to sleep. 

Same Time...

The crunch of gravel seemed louder than it actually was in Marty McComb's ears as he turned the beat-up, dark-colored sedan into someone's driveway; luckily, he could tell by the bright illumination above that the driveway led to a farmhouse situated far back from the road.  And by the look of the darkened structure, the occupants had gone to bed, so they would not detect the vehicle parked there.  He had ‘borrowed' the non-descript, older car earlier in the day, when one of the town's neighbors had so obligingly left it sitting out in front of the drug store while he had gone inside.  He smirked; apparently in a Mayberry town as small as this one, people still actually trusted others not to do them any harm or steal their property.  But for his purposes, the beat-up condition and plain appearance of the vehicle served him perfectly to melt into the scenery until he could accomplish what he had set out to do. 

He scowled at the thought of even getting his hands dirty; normally he wouldn't be caught dead taking care of such a task, but with all his henchmen in jail he had no alternative.  He smirked over his choice of words.  It hadn't been hard to figure out where Taylor's family lived - or to find out from some of the well-meaning townspeople what had happened to Taylor's temporary quarters over the gas station when Kesterson had been arrested. It hadn't been hard, either, to find a recent photo of him on the local high school's website.  He had always lived by luck and more than a little greed, and his luck had held out earlier when he had spied the sheriff himself heading toward the Taylor farmhouse with none other than Jared Taylor himself sitting in the passenger seat of the car.  And just as he figured, no one had paid any mind to a man sitting in his car at the rest area down the road, including the sheriff or his passenger. 

He gripped the steering wheel, his lips biting down on the stubby end of what remained of his cigar, before he reached over to the passenger seat and retrieved the gleaming object to grip it in his right hand, savoring the coldness and heaviness of the metal.  He had waited long enough.  He knew that the full moon above could be both a blessing as well as a curse to him. But the sheriff had been gone for hours now - leaving alone - and now was the time.   

2:00 a.m. - Taylor Farmhouse

The blare of the nightly 2 a.m. coal train jolted Justin from his sleep as his eyes fluttered open, his consciousness slowly becoming aware of his surroundings; he had been having the most wondrous dream involving, of course, him and Brian out on some beautiful but primitive deserted island, existing there on nothing but tropical fruit, love, and fucking - plenty of it.  He groaned, realizing he had just been awakened right in the middle of the most erotic part; Brian was just about to lap up some coconut milk from his stomach, his tongue swirling sensually around his belly button.  Glancing down at his woody tented underneath the thin cotton, he pushed the sheet aside, now drenched with his sweat from his dream, and slipped out of the bed, shuffling over sleepily to the open window to savor the now-cool air of early morning.  Glancing down at the backyard before him, he broke out into a beaming smile of surprised delight: by virtue of the moonlight above, he could make out a tall, slim figure standing by the back gate, his head down with his hands jammed inside his jacket pockets.  Why hadn't he gotten his attention by the usual method? he wondered, until he figured it was because the window was wide open.  Nothing to throw at me this time? He thought with a grin.

Smiling as a delicious thought occurred to him that perhaps the real thing could assuage his raging hard-on, he hurriedly slipped into his shoes before stealthily creeping down the hallway past his parents' bedroom and toward the stairs, taking care to skip over the step near the top that always creaks.  Shuffling down the hallway, he took great pains to slowly open the back door by the kitchen, peering through the screen door into the semi-darkness to see Brian still standing near the gate. Frowning as he wondered why Brian hadn't moved yet, he slowly swung the screen door open, wincing as it creaked.  As he walked outside, however, Brian must have heard him, because the figure turned around to face him.  His blood ran cold, however, as he realized it wasn't Brian at all; it was a stranger to him.  "What...What do you want?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.  His heart threatened to pound out of his chest as the man pulled an object out of his pocket then; in the stark illumination of the bright, summer moon, it wasn't difficult to tell what it was. 

The man sneered as he held the gun out in front of him, aimed straight toward the slight blond teenager standing about 10 feet away.  "You're going to tell me where Jared is."  He had seen this boy enough in the papers and at the racetrack to immediately recognize him as Jared's younger brother, Justin. The same one who should be dead by now - if Kesterson hadn't screwed up at Red Mill.

Oh, my God.  No. Justin somehow immediately knew who this man was; there could only be one explanation.  Bolstering what courage he could, he swallowed hard before replying, "I don't know who you're talking about." 

The man chuckled dryly.  "Nice try, Kid."  His look of humor abruptly disappeared as his voice took on a hard, steely tone.  He cocked the trigger back, the click sounding outrageously loud to Justin's ears, as he demanded, "I'm going to ask you one more time.  Where is he?  Don't fucking play games with me." 

Justin pursed his lips together into a tight line, his heart pounding furiously.  "I...I don't know.  He doesn't live here anymore."  At least that part was correct - to an extent, anyway.

"Oh, he's here, all right," McComb growled.  "I saw him earlier with that bumbling sheriff.  He came here with him...and he left alone."  The man slowly advanced closer and closer to his target, his right arm locked straight out as he continued to point the gun directly at Justin.  He had to give the kid credit; even with the most hardened of men he had encountered, there was always a look of fear in their eyes when he was pointing his gun at them, and they were literally staring down death. This one, however, almost looked defiant in nature.  He knew if he made good on his threat, however, there was a possibility that he would not find out where Taylor was at all.  Perhaps there was another way, however.

Before he could make good on his idea, however, he heard what sounded like a dog growling nearby.  How had he missed that?  He was normally very careful about distractions like that.  Still aiming the gun at the blond, he turned his head just enough to observe what appeared to be a beagle several feet away out in middle of the dirt road, standing rigidly in place. 

"Get the hell out of here," he snarled at him menacingly.  That only served, however, for the dog to continue growling even louder until the growl turned into a series of barks.  Either forgetting that the windows of the farmhouse were open, or unheeding of that fact, McComb snapped at Justin, "Either shut that dog up, or I'll shut him up!" 

Justin hissed at Solomon urgently, "Solomon! It's okay, boy! Go home!"  But the dog stubbornly stood his ground, his hackles raised in distrust, almost as if he could smell the anger and maliciousness rolling off the stranger in waves.  He watched in horror as the man whipped his body around in anger, prepared to shoot the dog where he stood.  "Go away, Solomon!" Justin scolded him as loudly as he dared, trying to sound perturbed at him; miraculously, the dog finally chose to do as Justin said, backing away slightly but continuing to growl under his breath. But at least he was no longer barking, and Justin suspected the man wouldn't shoot him, anyway; not if he didn't want to be detected before he found his brother.  Oh, God.  He didn't know what to do, however; just the thought that this was apparently the man who had been responsible for Dale's death - and who wanted HIM dead - made him sick to his stomach...and terrified. For him AND his brother. 

The man turned back around - apparently satisfied the dog was no longer an issue - before he advanced even further on Justin; by now he was so close that Justin could smell the man's rank breath where he had been smoking cigars and drinking coffee nonstop earlier.  The man's eyes bored into his - ugly, menacing eyes.  "Turn around," he ordered.

Justin stood his ground for a moment before he finally did as he was told.  Despite the fact that he wanted to protect his brother, he still didn't want to die, either.  He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, wondering if the next sound he was going to hear would be the gunshot to end his life, before he felt the man's muscular arms wind around him in a virtual vise.  He shivered as he felt the man's hot breath near his ear.

"Now you're going to take me to see him...or I'll blow your brains out.  And don't think I won't do it." 

Justin didn't know where he got to courage to reply more confidently than he felt, "You won't do that, or everyone in this valley will come running when they hear you shoot me."

To his dismay, however, the man merely chuckled as he informed him, "Ever hear of a silencer?  Well, keep it up, and you'll know exactly what it sounds like when I pull the trigger." The man's voice turned deadly as he repeated, "Now take me to him...now." 

Justin bit his lip in hesitation. What the hell should he do? Obviously the man didn't realize that Jared wasn't in the house, but out in the barn. And either way, whether he moved toward the house or the barn, someone he loved would be put into danger - mortal danger.  He couldn't let that happen - even if it DID result in his own death.  "I'm not going to do anything you say," he managed to tell the foul-smelling man.

He heard him growl as the cold barrel of the gun was thrust into his right temple.  "Have it your way, then; I'll find him myself."  He couldn't help the adrenalin racing through him, or the trembling of his body, as he waited to die.  His last thought as he shut his eyes tightly was of the family he loved...and of Brian.  Their heartbreak was the one thing he would regret.  Suddenly, however, a voice permeated the stillness of the night.

"Let him go, McComb.  I'm right here." 

The barrel of the gun was slowly removed as Justin heaved a sigh of relief; the relief was only temporary, however, as the man turned both of them around to face Jared, who was standing near the back of the gate approximately 10 feet away. 

McComb lowered the gun, but continued to grip it in his right hand and hold Justin tightly against his stomach as he turned to face the target of his hunt.  "Well, well, well...look who we have here.  I admit, though, Taylor, you surprised me by coming out of the barn instead of the house. Too bad you didn't have enough sense to leave altogether before it was too late."

Jared was terrified inside, but his fear and concern for his younger brother superseded that as he told the man, "Let him go, I said.  He has nothing to do with this."

"He has everything to do with this!" McComb countered.  "If your little friend hadn't botched the job with your brother and snitched on me, I wouldn't even be here." 

Jared slowly approached McComb, afraid to make any abrupt moves for fear it would set him off. He had no doubt the man would kill him on the spot without any hesitation; what he needed to do was somehow buy time. At least enough time to allow his brother to escape unharmed.  Deep down, though, he knew the man wouldn't leave anyone alive that could be a witness.  If only he had been able to arm himself. But out in the barn, the only possible instrument to protect himself - which at best might have been a hunting knife kept on one of the wooden shelves next to the family's fishing gear - would have been no match for this man's weapon.  "It's me you want, McComb.  Justin doesn't have anything to do with this."

"I told you!" McComb hissed. "He has everything to do with this!  The only question is...who do I get rid of first?" 

The two brothers' eyes locked on each other; each echoing both the fear - and love - for each other in that one look, along with a degree of desperation. 

"I think I'll take you out first," McComb decided, knowing Justin couldn't go anywhere while he held him at gunpoint in his grip; he didn't work out on a regular basis for nothing, and this slip of a boy would be no match for him - or his gun.  Aiming his gun straight at Jared, he pulled the trigger back.  "You've been a thorn in my fucking side for too long now."

"No...." Jared whispered, frozen now with fear. He knew he had nowhere to go. 

In an act born of his desperation, Justin suddenly raised his right leg and slammed his heel down on the man's instep before he had a chance to pull the trigger; McComb howled in pain and loosened his grip, just enough for Justin to break free from the clutches.

A few seconds later, a gunshot reverberated throughout the countryside, echoing loudly in the valley.