It was more than an hour before the vultures considered their feathers dry enough. One by one, they took wing and left to do what they spent their days doing, and soon the last of them were leaving. “Well, the coffee’s gone,” Jack said, “so we might as well head on back and get on some lawns while Stas takes a nap.”

“As if that isn’t what he’s been doing since we’ve been out here,” she laughed. “I guess I’m ready to head back, but I’d almost rather just sit here with you.”

“I’d just as soon sit here with you, too,” he smiled as he got to his feet. “The problem is that we’ve got things to do. At least I’ve got things to do. I spent too much time looking for that Kirtland’s Warbler last week and not enough time on the seat of a mower.”

“Are you going to take me out and show me that warbler?” she asked as she got up. “I mean, since it’s in the area and you know where to look for it, we might as well not pass up the opportunity.”

“Yeah, not a bad idea,” he agreed. “Catching it is real iffy, but it might be worth spending an afternoon trying. We’re just going to have to sit still in the shade and not make any noise, and then we may only get a glimpse. That means we won’t be able to fall asleep like we did yesterday afternoon, either. Come on, Stas, time to wake up and face the world.”

The dog slowly got up and stretched, seemingly wondering what all the urgency was, but fell in behind as Jack and Vixen hiked back up to the Jeep. He hopped up into the back seat, and resumed his nap even before the humans were buckled in.

“Lucky dog,” Jack shook his head. “All he has to do is scarf dog food, shit, and sleep. He has littermates that have run the Iditarod, but he really has it soft.”

“Yeah,” Vixen giggled. “Like we should have it so soft.” She leaned back in the seat and continued. “Jack, there’s one other thing my mother and I talked about last night that I haven’t mentioned. Just because we’ve agreed to not go all the way for a couple months doesn’t mean we can’t fool around some. In fact, we can fool around quite a bit.”

“That’s kind of a relief, you know,” he smiled. “It would be hard to spend time with you and not want to fool around at least a little.”

Summer Trevetheck really wasn’t an early riser, but she’d taken to setting her alarm so she could get back in the habit of getting up for school. She checked the clock; her father would be gone by this time, although her mother would still be around.

She got out of bed, still yawning, and gave her head a shake to straighten out her hair a little. It needed to be brushed out, but then there were a lot of things she needed to do to really get ready for the day. Still in the T-shirt and panties she’d slept in, she headed down to the kitchen to work on waking up in a little more organized fashion. She knew that if she didn’t the bed would look a little too tempting, and there would go all the getting used to being up at an hour when it seemed the birds should still be asleep as far as she was concerned.

Her mother was standing at the counter, working on something that Summer couldn’t identify. “Well, how are you this morning, sleepyhead?” she smiled.

“Still asleep,” Summer yawned. “Why do people think you have to get out of bed in the morning? Afternoons are so much nicer.”

“Maybe it’s because if you get up in the morning, you can be fully awake so you can enjoy the afternoon,” Rowan grinned. She understood; when she’d been Summer’s age she’d enjoyed sleeping to noon as well. It was just too bad that adults didn’t get to do that much, especially after they were parents. “Would you like some nice hot tea to wake you up?” she asked. “I’ve got some water hot.”

“Tea, coffee, Coke, whatever sounds good,” Summer yawned, pawing around in the cereal cabinet for something that might appeal. She couldn’t find anything that didn’t have the prospect of tasting like cereal.

“Would you like some real breakfast?” Rowan asked. “Maybe some toast and eggs?”

“Sounds wonderful if I don’t have to make it,” Summer agreed, slowly becoming aware of the fact that she wouldn’t have to make it herself.

“It’ll have to wait a couple minutes,” her mother said, “but I can get you some tea right now if you don’t want it too hot.”

“That’ll be fine, Mom.” She sat down at the kitchen table, still trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes.

In a minute or so Rowan set the tea cup down in front of her daughter. “I kept trying to get hold of your grandmother last evening,” she reported, “but then your Dad was right there so we couldn’t talk. He’ll be at work today, so I should be able to see if she has any ideas about those photos.”

“No need,” Summer said. “I have them.”

“You what?” her mother asked.

“I have them,” Summer sighed. “Up in my room. That’s what Jack dropped off last night while you were watching TV.”

“Oh, my,” Rowan said. “How did you ever manage to talk him out of them?”

“Mostly I asked nicely,” Summer smiled. “Jack really is a nice guy, and he didn’t put up any fuss.”

“Did you tell him anything? Especially about the Old Way?” With her father not around, Summer and her mother could talk freely about such things.

“Not really,” Summer said. “I told him it was a family thing, a big secret, and that it could get embarrassing if it got out.” She knew she’d actually told him a little more than that, but not much more and nothing that could hurt them unless Jack was one to pry into things a lot more than she figured he would. “He sort of said that he realized that it was supposed to be a secret as he took them, and decided he wouldn’t say anything about them.”

“You’re sure he’ll keep quiet about it?” Rowan asked.

“Pretty sure,” Summer smiled. “Like I said, Jack is a pretty stand-up guy. I, uh, let him know it was really important to me to be sure he wouldn’t say anything. Besides, without the photos, he has no proof anyway.”

“You’re probably right,” Rowan nodded, “at least about having the proof. Did you, uh, have to offer him anything for his silence?”

“Well, yeah,” Summer smiled. “His only protest about it was that those were the first nude photos he’d ever taken, so I told him that if he really wanted he could take nude photos of me, as long as I was the only one in the picture. Of course with how tight he’s gotten with Vixen, that’ll never happen.”

“You hope.”

“If he does, so what?” Summer grinned. “It might be kind of fun. But like I said, I don’t think it’ll ever happen.”

“Well, all right, I guess,” Rowan said, turning to work on her daughter’s breakfast. “I think I’ll talk to your grandmother about some kind of damage control in case Jack ever does decide to run his mouth, but it doesn’t sound like it’s urgent. Was getting Jack to give you those pictures the reason why you went with him and Vixen yesterday afternoon?”

“Well, partly,” Summer admitted, “but like I told you, it was partly to be with Alan, who’s been feeling pretty down.”

“Yes, you told me. Did that work out all right?”

“Oh, yeah, Mom, we had a blast. I might not have gone if I hadn’t wanted to talk to Jack, but I’m sure glad I did. Alan is a real nice guy, cooler than I realized. We had a lot of fun, had pizza, played cards and chess, and talked a lot.”

“Well, good,” Rowan said. “That makes up for your Saturday night a little, then?”

“Oh, yeah,” Summer smiled. She was silent for a moment, and decided she’d better spill it. “Mom?” she said.

“What?”

“I guess I better tell you,” she said shyly. “Alan kissed me last night.”

“Kissed you? After Saturday? What did you do?”

Summer smiled serenely. “Kissed him back. More than once, in fact.”

“Oh, my,” Rowan shook her head. “I didn’t expect that to happen.”

“I didn’t either. It just well, sort of happened. Jack and Vixen were being a little, well, inspiring. But I liked it, Mom. Alan has some stuff going on today, but when it’s over with I’m going over there and work on some game characters with him, and who knows what else. It might come to kissing him again. In fact, I hope it does.”

“Oh, my,” Rowan said again. “Well, there’s a lot worse guys you could have had your first kiss with, and Rusty was one of them.”

“Couldn’t agree more, Mom,” her daughter grinned with a look that said a major milestone had been passed, one maybe more important to her than the Venus Rite. “I think Alan, Jack, Vixen, and I are going to get together again later in the week to do it again.”

“Well, good,” Rowan smiled. “It’s important to have friends outside the family at your age, and that’s something I’ve worried about.”

Jack and Vixen talked about her mother’s advice a little more on the way back out to the state road. Jack told her that he didn’t think he was quite that anxious to get even more serious with her, but at least it was nice to know that she’d made the offer, which seemed to relieve her – or maybe not, it was hard to tell. As much as he’d come to enjoy being with Vixen in the last couple of days, he’d also realized there was a downside: he was dealing with a woman, which he understood at best to be unpredictable. At least with birds you could usually figure out what they were doing and why they were doing it.

It was getting warm by the time they were back to Spearfish Lake, and it was still very humid. From looking at the grass on the lawns they passed along the way, Jack figured things had dried out enough to mow, but it was going to be a real scorcher. Lovely time to mow lawns, he thought. He wished he hadn’t held off last week, but then he might have missed the Kirtland’s Warbler pictures.

Jack stopped the Jeep in the driveway in front of the garage. “Well, I guess there’s nothing else to do but get started,” he said.

“I’ll head in and change into some shorts,” Vixen said.

Jack turned to her with a serious expression. “I can’t stop you,” he said, “but I really wish you wouldn’t.”

“Jack? I usually wear shorts when I’m mowing.”

“Vixen,” he sighed as he got out of the Jeep. “You have very pretty legs. I enjoy looking at them and I’m going to enjoy touching them. I’d really rather they weren’t scarred up by thrown stones or something. Please wear your jeans while you’re mowing, not just now, but always.”

“You really think my legs are pretty?” she frowned as she got out of the Jeep to follow him.

“Very pretty,” he said. “They’re not the best part of you, but they’re right up there.”

“All right,” she said. “I’ll wear my jeans and roast. But tell me, what do you think my best part is? My boobs? My butt?”

“All of you, Vixen, all of you,” he grinned as he opened the garage door, revealing a medium-sized riding mower and a walk-behind trimmer. “Now I may have to reserve my opinion a little until I’ve actually seen all of you, but I suspect it’ll hold.”

“Jack,” she sighed. “You’re a smooth talker. Maybe too smooth. The skin on my face takes away from the rest of the package pretty bad.”

“It does now,” he said as he bent over to check the gas in the walk-behind mower he used for trimming. “I suspect you’ll grow out of it. But even with your acne you have a very pretty face. I mean, there’s no need to throw a bag over your head to make love, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Holy Christ,” she shook her head. “I’ll stick with what I said; you’re an awful smooth talker. I like that. You mind if I get rid of this long sleeve shirt?”

“As hot as it is, you about have to,” he shrugged. “I’ll wear a T-shirt.”

“All right,” she said as she peeled off the flannel shirt she’d worn all morning, to reveal a spaghetti-strap black camisole that stuck to her like a second skin. “I guess I can live with that, but these jeans are coming off as soon as we’re done.”

“Maybe we can go for a swim or something to cool off,” he suggested, checking out the gas in the rider.

“It sounds good already,” she smiled, “Except for what we have to do to qualify for it.”

“There is that,” Jack said, picking up a gas can. “That little shit,” he swore.

“What’s that?”

“Howie has a set of lawns he does, too,” Jack said. “Not as many as I do, or as big, but he’s run both the mowers dry, left the gas can empty, and didn’t even tell me about it. That means we have to get gas before we can get started.”

“So we run down to the Fiesta station and get gas,” she shrugged.

“We don’t have any choice,” he said. “The thing that pisses me off is he winds up making me pay for it all the time. I’m going to have to take it out of his hide one of these days.”

“So don’t get any more gas than you need and leave everything empty for him,” she giggled. “Dump anything extra in the Jeep.”

“You have an evil mind,” he grinned, picking up the gas can. “I like that, and I think that’s just what we’re going to do.”

“You’re too nice of a guy to think of plotting any dastardly means of revenge. Girls aren’t that nice.”

It was a fairly short ride in the Jeep down to the Fiesta station. Jack only put three gallons in the five-gallon can, set it in the back of the Jeep, and went in to pay for it. He was heading back to the Jeep when he saw Larry Coopshaw’s pickup drive up to the pumps. Larry was one of Frenchy’s parasites, hanging around with him all the time. Why do assholes like that have to be around? He was glad he was getting out of there when Frenchy got out of the right door of the pickup. It seemed to Jack that he was limping a little.

“Hey, Erikson,” Frenchy said angrily, without any preliminary. “Tell that dipshit little brother of yours that I ain’t through beating on him. There was no call for him to fuck up my knee like he did.”

“From what I heard, Howie was just defending himself,” Jack protested, not in any mood to take any shit from Frenchy, and guessing that Frenchy might not risk getting into a brawl in a public place where others could watch and interfere.

“Fuck him,” Frenchy said. “That was a fair fight, there wasn’t no call for him to be kicking my knee.”

It looked to Jack that there was going to be a fight there anyway. If Frenchy wanted to take a swing at him, Jack decided that he’d try to kick him in the other knee – and he had on a hiking boot, not a sneaker like Howie had. “Some fair fight,” Jack laughed. “He’s younger than you and smaller than you.”

“He’s got a rotten fucking mouth, just like you do,” Frenchy sneered. “I catch him out, I’m going to kick his ass for real. I don’t have to put up with that kind of shit from him.”

“See you around, Frenchy,” Jack told him. “I’ve got too much going on right now to have to put up with this.”

“Larry!” Frenchy called. “Help me out with this dickhead!”

“That’s just like you, isn’t it, Frenchy?” Jack heard from behind him. “Don’t dare to get into a fight where the odds might be even, can you?”

“I can kick this guy’s ass without Larry’s help,” Frenchy sneered.

“Well, you’d better be watching whose ass you’re kicking, especially someone younger and smaller,” the voice said. “Or I’ll come looking for you.”

Amazed to hear that, Jack turned a little to look out the corner of his eye to see who was talking, even though it risked giving Frenchy an opening to hit him. He was surprised to see it was Cody Archer, no bigger than Jack was, but he looked very serious.

“You’ll get yours sometime,” Frenchy sneered, and turned to limp back to the truck. “Come on, Larry, we can get gas somewhere else.” In seconds, Larry was doing a burnout to get out of there.

“My God, I never thought I’d see the day,” Jack said, getting a little weak in the knees. “Frenchy doesn’t back down. At least if he’s got a couple of his buddies with him.”

“Yeah,” Cody nodded. “He was a pain in the ass when I was in school, too. Some day he’ll get his. I’m surprised he hasn’t stepped on his dick already.”

“Well, hey, Cody, thanks,” Jack said. “I was just so sure I was going to get pounded it wasn’t funny.”

“You were doing the right thing, believe it or not,” Cody said. “Calling for help from Larry was just proof that he wasn’t sure he could take you on by himself. Were you thinking about kicking his other knee?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“That’s probably what I would have done,” Cody sighed. “Watch out for him; he’s still going to cause trouble.”

“Don’t I know it,” Jack said. Vixen had come up beside him, and was now hugging his arm.

“Thanks, Cody,” she said. “I heard what you did for Jack’s little brother yesterday, and thanks for that, too.”

“Just glad to be of service,” Cody grinned. “Now I better get that quart of milk and get back so Jan and I can have breakfast. We’ll see you around. Don’t let the rough ones get you down.”

“I try not to,” Jack said.

As Cody walked into the store, Jack turned to Vixen. “Can you drive a stick? ” he asked.

“No, I’ve never learned,” she said. “You can teach me, but why? ”

“Because I’m not all that sure I can keep standing,” he said. “Jeez, I’m dizzy all of a sudden.”

“So sit down in the Jeep,” she said. “I can’t believe you were getting ready to fight Frenchy.”

“I didn’t want to fight him,” Jack said, “but I’m getting a little fucking tired of backing down all the time. Cody is right, catch him alone when he’s not as tough. The trick is catching him alone.”

“Yeah, maybe if you have two or three friends around,” Vixen smiled, “that would give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“Fuck that fuckin’ fucker and the fuckin’ horse he fuckin’ rode in on,” Frenchy snarled. “If that fuckin’ Archer hadn’t been there we’d have kicked his ass, Larry.”

“Do you think you could have taken him by yourself?”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ could have kicked his ass clear down to Camden, but you know me, I like to be real sure that when I kick someone’s ass they know they’ve been kicked.”

“Maybe we could have taken them both,” Larry said.

“No fuckin’ way,” Frenchy said. “I know that fuckin’ Archer knows that martial arts shit, and I could see both of them fuckin’ eyeing my fuckin’ knee. That’d have fuckin’ left you hanging out in the fuckin’ breeze. I can’t do that to my bud.”

“Maybe it’s just as well,” Larry said. “There were a lot of people there, somebody could have called the cops.”

“So what the hell good would that have done them?” Frenchy snorted. “If it had just been that Erikson shit, we could have kicked his ass and been gone by the time any fuckin’ cops got out of the doughnut shop. Besides, they don’t fuck with football players in this town. I’d about have to fuckin’ kill somebody before something would happen. I mean, fuck, I know goddamn well that that Jahnke kid went to the cops, and look what good that did him. Fuckin’ nothing! We got more static from that fuckin’ Archer! I don’t fuckin’ like to kiss anyone’s ass, no matter how many people he’s killed.”

“Well, maybe it’s just as good we got out of there,” Larry said. “There’ll be another time.”

“Yeah, from what I hear that fuckin’ Archer is going to go back under whatever fuckin’ rock he crawled out from under pretty soon. I don’t fuckin’ think that he’d actually do something unless it was right in front of him, anyway. We’ll get our chance to kick some Erikson ass, both of them. We’re gonna be around and he won’t. Fuck, my knee hurts. That fuckin’ little bastard didn’t have no reason to be fucking me up like that. I want his older brother, but I really want his ass.”

Even Larry was getting a little tired of the subject. Frenchy was in a mood, there was no doubt about it. He was a little sorry that he’d let himself get talked into making this trip, because he’d have to listen to Frenchy rant all the way. “You care where we get gas?” he asked.

“Anywhere you fucking want,” Frenchy said. “I just want to get down there and get some fucking tires. It’s hell not being on the road myself.”

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