RILEY

Hando and Mere arrived about six hours after Darcy and Doc left. I was sitting on the bed, cuddled up against John's shoulder and reading the sports page with him. Not that I care a whole hell of a lot about sports, I was just happy to be so near him, feel his energy vibrate through me, alive. Oh Christ, alive. The newspaper was spread out over his lap and cast, sliding off to the floor in fluttering sections.

It was a delightful moment, almost normal. But I knew it wouldn't last long and soon his head was bobbing, eyes drooping. Four days home and he was already pushing it. Trying to fight the medication, sleep less, walk around more and more. His hand weights were on the table beside the alarm clock, and when he was awake, if he wasn't reaching for them, he was grunting to stand with the crutches. Three times he'd hobbled around the bedroom that morning, just to move. It was driving him nuts to be still, and driving me nuts that he wouldn't. I caught him heading for the kitchen once and read him the riot act.

"God dammit! Ask, John. Whatever you need, I'll get it." I glared and pointed to the bed.

"Fuck," he mumbled under his breath.

But it all exhausted him and in a way, I was glad. He needed the rest, and when he slept, he really slept. It was that deep, recuperative sleep I'd been praying for, the kind required to heal. The human body is truly remarkable, and a remarkable body with John's heart and soul inside of it was amazing. Since that frightening day when he came home from the hospital, weak as a kitten, he'd made progress. And I knew he felt better because he was seeing results. In three days he'd be off the strong prescription pain meds completely. The only pills remaining were antibiotics and the inhaler for his damaged lung, which blessedly, he hadn't had to use once. His mind was on the future, and as Doc predicted, John was thriving on the excitement of the construction, only two weeks away.

"Oi!" A shout from the kitchen door and my heart leapt. John shuffled on the bed, reached for his crutches, groaned with resignation to stay put.

"In here," I called as I helped John settle comfortably, pillows under his head and leg. He gathered newspaper pages and handed them to me, that apologetic look in his eyes. Like I care that the newspaper was strewed around the bed. I grinned and kissed his lips as Mere charged in and dove for John. I almost didn't escape. Of course, Hando helped, pulling at my hips and turning me into his embrace.

"Baby Sister," he said, grasping a bone crushing hug. "Ya okay?" came a soft whispered in my ear.

"Yeah." I nuzzled into his neck, then Mere and I went off to the kitchen. Time for girl talk, giggles and some female bonding.

JOHN

Hando sat in the big overstuffed chair next to the bed. He looked good. Hell, everyone looked good to me these days. And as much as I hated needing the help, I gotta admit, I was fucking grateful. But H? I even heard he volunteered. Maybe I shouldn't be so surprised. Wouldn't be the first time real love brought the best out of us. We listened to the women chatter in the kitchen and he just shook his head. I chuckled.

"Mate, it's even worse when there are two of 'em." He groaned, but he wasn't fooling me. Hando was smiling. I wondered if he even knew he was smiling.

"She's great, man."

"Fuck, yeah," he said, like he had something to do with it. "So, mate. What do ya need me to do?"

I'd been thinking about that. Lach said he'd chopped enough wood for the week. Hando's skills were different. And even though he'd swing an ax if needed, I knew he'd rather do something mechanical. "Can you dismantle a sixty year old furnace?"

His eyes perked. "Lemme get my tools, mate." And he was off. If I know him, the damn monstrous thing would be rubble in a day or two and I'd have to come up with something else for him to do. The furnace in the left tower was already in the dumpster. Maybe I could have him remove all the doors over there. I hated to make him do that. It was pretty cold. But it had to be done and I sure as hell couldn't do it.

MEREDITH

"I only saw it once, but Riles, it's beautiful!" I couldn't stop saying that. Couldn't actually believe it. My house was beautiful. My house.

Riley was kneading dough on the table, grinning from ear to ear. "You so deserve this, Mere. When do you guys move?"

"Well," I watched her hands pluck small handfuls of soft dough and roll, then form it flat. "We'll probably start getting our crap together when we get back to the Temple. It's not like we have a lot. Clothes, stuff like that. The car, the Harley. Everything will fit in one small trailer. We'll just haul it down to L.A."

I followed her and leaned against the counter as she dropped the dough discs into hot oil.

"What are you making?" I watched.

Her grin intensified, eyes sparkled. "Fry bread. In Native American cultures, fry bread is made for a ceremonial celebration feast. And I, my dear Sister, am celebrating."

"God, Riles, he looks so much better than I expected." I whispered and she nodded, turned her attention to the hot oil, hiding the tear in her eye.

"We're having buffalo, roasted garlic mashed potatoes, corn and salad. How does that sound?"

"Buffalo? Interesting," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. She lifted the lid to a large pot and the aroma was so fantastic, I could have frigging reached right in and pulled a piece of that buffalo pot roast right out of the simmering broth and munched. "When's dinner?" I drooled.

"Two hours," she set the golden fry bread on a rack and ran her hands down her apron. "Be right back, time for John's pills."

Alright, I confess. I tried to blame Sophie, but I ate the fry bread. I'm so bad, I even tried to recreate the dough forms and fry up another batch before I got busted. Riley came back and just laughed, watching the goofy looking balls roll in the bubbling oil.

"What did I do wrong?" I groaned. Not that I really wanted to cook, I was hoping I'd committed the perfect crime, ya know. Covered my tracks. Not like Sophie could rat me out. Even with that funny innocent look on her face.

"You forgot to put the slice in the center, Mere. But don't worry, babe. You're a good Fry Bread Maker."

"Is that supposed to be a crack?"

"No, it's a compliment." Her hands deftly formed dough to produce the perfect tender breads. "A good Fry Bread Maker is a woman who lives a good life, Mere. A woman who learns and tries. Loves and nourishes." She patted my shoulder, leaving flour hand marks on my black sweater. "That's you, Sis."

That's Riley too. One hell of a good frigging Fry Bread Maker.

HANDO

Worked on that fuckin' furnace non-stop for hours. Not sure why. Well, maybe I do. John needed it done. And I wanted to do it for him, then. Not like it was bloody fun. The fuckin' basement was freezin'. But it was good, hard work, ya know. Figured if I kept at it, might get it finished and out by mid week.

The fuckin' thing made me laugh. Looked like some of those blast furnaces I remember in the old factories we used to squat. Couldn't even believe it was there. Took up most of the space. Walked around it, decidin' where to start. Fuck, John took one of these things apart himself. Heard it took him a week. I can beat that. "Fuckin' Christ," I said to the monster. What must the contraption have cost back when it was installed? And the bloody house had two of 'em. I looked up at the dusty ceiling. Guess it really was a mansion once. If I know those two, it will be again.

Strapped on my tool belt and got to it. After I figured the thing out, it was just a matter of gettin' it apart. Mind numbing. Not real challenging at all.

Gave me time to think. Look back at things. Mate, I was fuckin' lost, for a long time there. Maybe all my life. Till Isobel asked for me. Really considered not even meetin' her. Blowing her off the way she'd fuckin' ignored me for years. But things are changin'. We're changin'.

There ain't nothin' in this world like the one I come from, mate. Nothin'. Well, yeah, there is somethin', the Family. But I wasn't sure it was for me, ya know. Missed leadin', heading up the crew. Makin' the big decisions. Spent my life studyin' a philosophy and putting it into play. Never questioned it. Not once.

But here? Fuckin' different. Can't be makin' the kinda waves I made back then. Gotta keep a low profile for the sake of the Family. The fuckin' Family I never even felt a part of. Until that day Isobel loved me. Never thought about it before, ya know. I mean, mate, she's Izzy. The priestess. Never thought of her as something unimportant, the wrong color. But that's what she thought I was thinkin'. So, the fucking philosophy followed me, even if I wasn't following it. But then, who the bloody hell woulda known? It ain't like I was trying or anything.

Don't be gettin' me wrong. I ain't really trying now either. I just feel. And do. Can't even believe it makes a difference. But it does. Oh yeah. And there's M. And the house I bought. There's the Family. Lizzy and Riles, all the Sisters. Fuckin' Christ, they're all beautiful. Always searchin' for somethin' good inside of me. Fuck. I just quit fighting it. If they wanna see somethin', they'll see it. Ya know how women are. I just ain't in such a fuckin' hurry to hide it.

Even the Brothers. They think I'm different, but I ain't. I do what I need to do. And right that moment, I needed to help out in fucking freezing Vermont. Well, at least tearin' apart an old furnace wasn't as bad as wearin' a monkey suit and parading in front of a bunch of silly bints. Had to laugh. The stuff Mere and Cort and the others can get me to do.

"Dinner! Now H!" Mere called from the top of the steps. Tossed a scowl up at her. Didn't give a fuck what she said, I was showerin' before I ate a damn thing. Gathered my tools and headed for the stairs. Fucking Family, always tellin' me what to do, when to do it. Shook my head. I stopped. Looked around. Smiled. Fuck. I love this fuckin' Family.

RILEY

We brought John out to the kitchen for dinner. It was the first time he sat at the table since he came home from the hospital and he was absolutely giddy about it. He sat sideways; his leg propped on a pillowed chair, ate and talked, joked and smiled and smiled and smiled.

My odd Native American meal was a hit. Even Hando was asking if I'd make buffalo when he comes back to the Inn. I assured him it will be on the menu.

After dinner, it was my plan to get John back into bed for the night, but before I could say a word, he was hobbling to the love seat. Hando tossed wood on the fire in the living room as Mere helped me plate dessert. I made a simple chocolate mousse, one of John's favorite, and I was piping a pretty swirl of whipped cream on top when I realized it was pill time again.

As John swallowed the pain pill that was sure to knock him out in less than an hour, we turned to a squeal in the kitchen. I poked my head around the bend. Hando had taken my piping bag; squirted sweet whipped cream on Mere's neck and was sucking it off. I just turned and went back to John, sat down and grinned.

"They at it?" he asked.

"Christmas Eve, all over again." I giggled. But it didn't go that far. Minutes later, Mere came in with the dessert. She handed us the two pretty ones, and she and H took the dishes that looked like they were sporting a lopsided mountain of topping.

"Um," Mere said. "H put the whipped cream on ours."

"Yeah. I like a lotsa fuckin' cream." He grinned, chocolate mousse all around his mouth.

"No shit." John chuckled then turned to me. "Hey baby, why don't you tell us a story?"

"A story?" Mere said with a mouthful.

"Yeah," John explained, tugging me close under his arm. "It's Native American tradition. Right Riles?"

I nodded, slid my spoon around the empty glass dish. "A story teller is the keeper of the People's history. The legends and the myths."

"Oh, I wanna hear a story!" Mere said as Hando pulled her onto his lap on the other love seat and leaned his head back.

"And you, Hando?" I asked.

"No worries. Tell your story, Baby Sister."

"All right. Let's see," I sighed, looked into John's eyes. "Can I tell the Inuet story about men and women?"

He blinked then slowly smiled. "Yeah."

***

"Long, long ago, after the Creator had spun the world into being, He flew above the precious land to see what He had made. In the Inuet culture, the Creator is a Raven, beautiful and bold, strong and compassionate." I began.

"Inuet?" Mere asked.

"The Inuet people are the original caretakers of the land in Alaska," John said proudly.

"Right," I continued. "And as Raven soared high over mountains and plains, He passed over the great white tundra, noting its beauty and power. There, as He looked down, He saw a lone man, trudging aimlessly along the endless snow. He circled a long while, watching this man, wondering about him, and finally concerned for him.

"And so, Raven set Himself upon the land. Taking His great black wing, He swept His beak up to the top of His head, and He walked as man so as not to frighten the poor lost soul He had created.

"For several days, Raven stayed with the man. He taught him to make fire, to hunt for food, use the pelts to keep warm, and build a home to shield himself from the harsh elements."

I noticed Hando's eyes open, focus on me as I told the story.

"Raven taught this man to honor all that lives, to walk respectfully and do no harm. He taught him to take care with the elements, to honor himself and the earth he lived on. And He taught the man how to pray.

"Taught him that Raven will always listen, always hear. And always be there for him. But, as the time neared for Raven to leave the man, He was deeply saddened.

"You see, even with all the instruction given to the man, Raven was clearly aware that the man could not survive alone. Knew that the man would need a stronger, more resilient being to help him."

I grinned, kissed John softly then turned to our Family. Hando and Mere's eyes were glued to me. "And thus, Raven created woman, to help man live a full life. A happy life safe at home on the earth."

HANDO

I couldn't get the fuckin' story outa my head. Long after Mere and I fucked each other's brains out, long after she was sound asleep, tight against me, her soft hand on my chest, I still thought about it.

It ain't like it was somethin' I haven't heard before. That simple story's been told a thousand ways. For all kinds if cultures. Even the Maori got a story just like it. Nothin' original about it. But there was somethin' original about the way Baby Sister told it.

The way I see it mate, myths are silly fuckin' fantasies. Easy explanations for shit. But we need explanations, don't we then? Been searchin' for one to explain me. The Brothers. Nothin' made sense, so I just accepted, ya know. Fuck, we're not much different from the original people, are we?

But how Riles told that story was fuckin' haunting me. Gonna make a confession here, and keep your fuckin' traps shut 'bout it, mates. Weird as our existence is, the Inn was even more strange. Never in my fuckin' life been more comfortable, and more on edge as I am here in Vermont.

And that fuckin' bear savin' John's life? Made me fuckin' bonkers to even think about it. It was all too fuckin' confusing. 'Bout four in the morning, I gave up. Slept.

John

I was right; Hando had the furnace in pieces within days. He strutted into the kitchen and thumped down across from me. I was reviewing the blueprints, cross referencing with the construction schedule, decided the doors needed to be removed from our tower first. I cleared my throat and watched him guzzle a beer. Damn, the minute I'm off medication, I'm having a beer. Or ten.

"Let's get the fuck outa this house," he said between gulps. The ladies were in town, shopping and having lunch. I'd only been out of the hospital a week. Hadn't really thought about going outside. Sounded good to me. Damn good.

"Yeah, I'd like to get the fuck out of here."

He leapt, gathered my coat and knit hat, tossed them into my lap. I struggled a little, getting the coat on while sitting. Zipped it up, pulled on my hat and fished my gloves from the pockets before reaching for the crutches. Hando stood back and watched me leverage my weight on my good leg then swing the hulking ass cast around till I was vertical. Sweating, but standing.

He opened the door and I hobbled out. God sakes. Fresh air! It was an assault to my healing lung, but so sweet it left a honey taste on my tongue. Hando held my arm as I made my way down the ramp Lachlan had built and looked around.

"Which way, mate?"

"Man, not too far, or you'll be carrying me back," I laughed.

"Can do that. Where to?"

"The grave. I'd like to see the bear's grave."

At first he moved ahead of me then slowed. I was grunting, pulled off my hat and gloves, shoved them in the pockets and continued.

"When's that fuckin' cast come off?"

"Well . . . as I understand it . . . I get this one off and . . . a new one, smaller." I stopped, ran my coat sleeve over my brow. "Next week. Six weeks after that, a brace."

He lit a cigarette, nodded.

I turned to him. "This fucking sucks."

"Yeah." He pointed. "This way, right back there."

I noticed that the path was cleared, shoveled and cindered. The ground hard packed snow, level. Wide enough for me and my crutches, but not both of us. He waited for me, walking behind. At the grave, someone had built a bench. Two logs and a plank of wood. I lowered myself with a groan. Unzipped my coat, panting.

"So, a bear," Hando said quietly.

"More than a bear, man. Hard to explain."

"Try." He straddled the bench, facing me and lighting another cigarette.

I huffed. How to explain this to a man like Hando? I closed my eyes for a minute then just let the words come out. It felt like I needed to tell someone. This stuff is easy for Riles. But for me, it was baffling. Flew in the face of reality as I knew it. Or at least reality as I wanted it to be. But he wanted to know, so I told him. Told him about the old man. About the old bear that had probably lived on the land forever. About what Riley saw. The shapeshifter. That the old man, Grandpa Luke and the bear were one and the same.

When he didn't laugh in my face, I went on. Told him about my dreams, about the avalanche. Everything I knew, even though I couldn't have possibly known, I was fucking unconscious. About my clear memory of old Luke, sitting on the edge of the hole, keeping me company. Keeping me safe.

"Fuck Hando, the whole time, he was talking to me. Telling me things I needed to know, needed to do."

"Like what?"

"Fuck if I remember, but the sound of his voice, it's haunting. Still in my head, just when I think it was all a dumb dream, I hear him."

Then I talked about what Riley's experienced at the burial. How she heard drumming and singing. Lakota singing.

Hando, the Skinhead nodded seriously. "Doesn't make fucking sense that a wild animal would do that, mate. Dig ya out, lay over ya like that. Seems it would just as soon eat ya." He shook his head. "Must be true."

I shrugged. "It fucking baffles me, I mean, why me?"

"For Baby Sister, mate. That's why you."

I blinked. Now that's the first thing anyone said that actually made sense to me.

"Tribal," Hando said after a long silence. "I get this. Now I understand." He turned a long looked at the grave. "Thanks, brother, for savin' John's life."

I just blinked. I was getting cold. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my gloves. As I slid one on, I felt something hard inside it. Luke, what the hell are you doing to me? There it was the bear tooth Luke had given me in my dream. How the fuck did that get into my glove? Hell, I'm just going to quit asking questions like that.

"Here. This is for you, Hando."

He took it, rolled it in his fingers then nodded. "Too fuckin' cold out here." He stood and heaved me up, walking slowly behind me.

We just made it back inside before Riles and Mere got home. "So, what did you guys do all afternoon?"

I wasn't about to tell her I'd gone for a stroll in the snow. Hando and I just looked at each other. He shrugged and headed out for wood.

***

The day they left was bittersweet. Riley and Mere had been friends before they'd come to our world, and they'd really enjoyed spending time together. We were both grateful for their help, and their friendship. Then, in a move I certainly didn't expect, Hando took Riley into his arms and planted one hell of a passionate kiss on her lips. She was panting when he finally released her. "Later, mate." He said, and stomped out of the house, wearing the bear tooth on a thong around his neck. Curious, I thought. Damn curious.

"Well," Mere sighed. "There's that goose and gander thing." She reached up and sucked a luscious kiss on my lips. "And this goose got her fair share." Her eyes twinkled. God sakes. One hell of a sweet kisser, that girl. She hugged Riles and left.

"Oh my," Riley said. "Now what are we gonna do? Alex isn't coming till tomorrow?"

I turned and hobbled toward the bedroom. "Hell, no chaperones. I thought we might try . . ."

She was right behind me, her sweet hands on my ass, slipping between my thighs and I turned to her with a grin. I ain't stupid, man. I was hurting a bit, but had avoided any and all pain medication since last night. Time to get off those fucking pills, ay.

RILEY

I helped John out of his clothes, not an easy job, his hands and mouth where all over me and I laughed. Finally he sat on the bed with a grunt and lay back as I set the crutches aside and slid his sweats off the cast. His strong arms dragged his body up to the pillow, and those beautiful baby blues watched me tease him as I undressed. I peeled off my sweater then slowly pulled the turtleneck over my head. I shimmied out of my jeans and showed off my new underwear. Black. Lace. Shear. The bra was also a delicate black lace.

"That all for me?" John whistled as I made a full turn. "Come here, baby. Let me touch that pretty bra. Let me touch you."

I slid out of the black panties and straddled his belly, his big hands reached up, the fingertips running deliciously over the lace bra. So soft, more tender than ever and I sighed. He tugged at my arms, lowering my breasts to his waiting mouth. Jesus, the sensation of his lips through that thin fabric was driving me insane. The heat of his breath, his hands, flat against my back. His fingers undid the back of the bra, took it from me, his eyes on mine the whole time.

"God sakes, Riles. I love you so much." He gasped as his hands took my breasts, massaged the soft flesh, sending an electric tremble through me. I dropped slowly, a nipple at his lips, teasing us both. His hands held my breast as he sucked gentle pulls making me gasp. Soon, his head rose, he was lapping and moaning, making my hips roll, sending a charge directly to my crotch.

John brought up his good knee and pressed me back to rest against it. His hands moved down my body, making me shiver from the loving touch that can only come from John Biebe. As I leaned back, my eyes drifted closed. One hand grasped my hip as his other trailed into my wet passage. "Jesus, you're soaked." He groaned, putting his hand to his lips, sucking the fingers and smiling. "So wet and so fucking delicious. Missed you, baby."

"Well," I looked into his eyes. "I've missed you too, ya know."

He blinked then slowly smiled. Good Lord, I realized, he'd actually thought I'd been with Lachlan. "Did you really think I wouldn't wait for you?"

"Riley, I just didn't want you to have to wait this long. That's all, baby."

"Would you have waited for me?"

I watched his face register so many things. Horror at my being so injured. That direct focus that said, of course I'd wait! Then the realization that if he'd have waited, why wouldn't he expect me to do the same. John is so easy to read. His eyes say a lot. I especially liked it when he couldn't find the words his face so eloquently expressed.

His eyes holding mine, he slid two fingers inside then ran his thumb in a gentle circle, a careful press just at the edges of my throbbing clit. My head fell back on his knee. I swear, I tried to hold it off, to make it last, but as he pressed that circle tighter and tighter, finally rubbing directly on the trigger, heat exploded from my core and I cried out. I arched up, his grasp on my hip holding me tight to his moving hand. "That's it baby, that's it." He whispered over and over till I dropped down to him, panting and gasping from the sudden climax, surprised by its overwhelming attack.

He pressed my hips, wanting to be inside and I crawled lower, careful of his leg. My inner thigh rubbed against the rough texture of the cast. I slowly positioned myself, then carefully took John into me, gasping, almost shocked at the tightness, the heat of him.

He pulled at the sheets, aware of the cast, how it was hurting me. When he finally had it covered, tucked into the top edge of the plaster, he looked up into my eyes sadly. "Sorry baby, but you're gonna have to do most of the work here."

I smiled a wicked grin. "I like it when I do most of the work."

"Do ya now? Wish I'd have known that before." He giggled and I rocked my hips slowly, feeling the thickness of his fevered cock rub the wet flesh inside of me. Feeling the power of his love, his passion swelling even as I moved. I reached my hand back and ran the tips of my fingers over his balls, tickling the hair, pressing an easy roll over them, watched him close his eyes and hiss.

I lay over him, sucking his lips. Jesus, I wanted to cry. What would I have done without him? How could I ever love anyone this way? This much? He cupped my face and licked deep into my mouth.

"I love you, baby," I whispered into his opened mouth, then braced my knees against the mattress and worked my body. I lifted my hips slightly, then dropped them, moving faster as I sucked his tongue, listened to our heartbeats accelerate, speed to the pace of my movement.

John was groaning, panting, and I could feel my own climax returning, throbbing a hard pulsing squeeze on him. When John came, I was crying. Grateful to have him in my arms, filling me with his hot seed, his precious love.

"You okay?" He said, pushing my hair from my face, gasping for his breath. I quickly rolled off; terrified I was putting too much pressure on his chest, his damaged lung. He held me close, kissing my face, my eyes. "Jesus, Riles. Baby, are you all right?"

I could hardly talk. Every fear I had the day I learned he was lost under the snow poured out of my body. I shook with sobs, racked with the pure reality that I could have lost him forever, that I hadn't. That John was right there. Fear melted into joy. Everything passed through me like a speeding freight train. I came full circle in a matter of moments. "I'm just happy, John." I said, finally calming.

"Hell of a way to show it." But he was smiling. "I know how you must feel," he said softly, cuddling me on his chest. "I know, baby. I couldn't die. Just couldn't. I had you waiting at home for me. And every time I thought I'd just give up, all I could think of was you. And this place. Our dreams. Our future. I know there was a search party. I know Bud came up there. And Sophie. I know Luke was with me. But Riley. You brought me home, baby. You."

His arms wrapped like a blanket around me, and I could feel his heart thump against mine.

"You," he repeated.