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sassywitch.livejournal.com posting in monaboyd Apr. 10th, 2006 12:18 am)Title: Western Lovers: Cowboys and Archeaologists 5/30
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sassywitch
Pairing: BB/DM with a smattering of VM/LT and DW/OB
Rating: NC-17, to be on the safe side.
Summary: Billy is a man to be reckoned with. Can Dom heal his wounded soul and his own into the bargain. Could Billy make him forget the bitter lessons of the past?
Feedback: Feedback is my writers crack, which is not to be confused at all with plumbers crack.
Disclaimer: Not at all true in reality. These men whilst adorable and perfectly happy to slash themselves, their actual relationship is something that they only know. This story is adapted from a series of books that I adored when I was younger written by Elizabeth Lowell.
Word Count: 2978
Header Art: Courtesy of the incredibly talentedloki_girl
Previous Chapters: can be found Here
A/N: A huge thank you todylan_dufresne for the inspiration, the prodding and the beta. My grammar sucks so she had to suffer it so nobody else would. Next Chapter will be posted on Wednesday. 
Billy sat and watched the emotions fighting within Dom; anger, fear, hope, confusion, curiosity, longing. The extent of Dom's reluctance to go on to Arwen Canyon surprised him. He had glimpsed the depth of Dom's passion for the Anasazi, and if he were considering turning and walking away from Arwen Canyon, he must be in the grip of a fear that was very real to him, despite the fact that Billy knew of no reason for that fear. While most people might have been initially uneasy at spending time alone with a stranger in a remote place, their instinctive wariness would have been balanced by the knowledge that their unexpected companion was a man who had the deepest respect and trust of the people he lived among.
That fact, however, didn't seem to make much difference to Dom.
"Can you talk about it?" Billy asked finally.
"What?"
"Why you're afraid of men. Is it your father?"
Dom looked at Billy's searching, intent eyes, sensing the intelligence and the strength of will in him, reaching out to him, asking Dom to trust him.
Abruptly, Dom felt hemmed in, required to do something for which he was unprepared.
"Stop hounding me," Dom said through clenched teeth "You have no right to my secrets any more than any man has a right to my body!"
For an instant there was an electric silence stretching tightly between Billy and Dom, and then Billy turned away from Dom to look out over the land. The silence lengthened until the idling of the trucks engine was as loud as thunder. When Billy finally turned back toward Dom, his face was expressionless, his eyes were hooded and his voice held none of the mixture of emotions it had before.
"In an hour or less, those clouds will get together and rain very hard. Then Elf Wash will become impassable. Anyone who is at the Arwen Canyon site will be forced to stay there. Which will it be Dr. Monaghan? Forward to the dig, or back to the ranch?"
Billy's voice was even, uninflected, polite. It was like having a stranger ask for the time of day.
Bitterly, Dom reminded himself that Billy was a stranger, yet somehow he hadn't seemed like one until just now. From the moment Billy had held out the injured kitten to Dom, Billy had treated him as though he were an old friend, newly discovered. Dom hadn't even realized the….warmth….of his presence until it had been withdrawn.
Now Dom had an absurd impulse to reach out and touch Billy, to protest the appearance of the handsome, self-contained stranger who waited for his answer with cool attention, Billy's whole attitude telling him that whether Dom chose to go forward or back made no personal difference to him.
"Arwen Canyon," Dom said after a minute. Although he had tried, Dom's voice wasn't as controlled as Billy's had been.
Billy took off the brake and resumed driving.
Eventually the silence, which Dom had welcomed before, began to eat at his nerves. Dom looked out the window, but found himself glancing again and again toward Billy. He told himself that it was only Billy's casual skill with the truck that fascinated Dom, that he had done enough rough-country travel in the past to admire Billy's expertise. And it was Billy's expertise that he was admiring, not the subtle flex and play of his strong, muscular biceps beneath the faded green work shirt he wore.
"You're a very good driver, " Dom said
Billy nodded indifferently.
Silence returned and lengthened, filling the cab until Dom rolled down the window just to hear the whistle of the wind, telling himself the lack of conversation didn't bother him. After all, he had been the one to resist talk during the long hours since dawn. When Billy had pointed out something along the road or asked about his work, Dom had nodded or answered briefly, but had had no questions of his own to offer.
But now that he thought about it, Dom had a perfect right to ask a few business-like questions of Billy and get a few business-like answers in return.
"Will it distract you to talk?" Dom asked finally.
"No."
Brief and to the point. Very business-like. Irritating, too. Silently, Dom asked himself if his earlier, brief, impersonal answers had seemed so cool and clipped to Billy.
"I didn't mean to be rude earlier, " he said.
"You weren't."
Dom waited, but Billy said nothing more.
"How much farther is it to Arwen Canyon?" Dom asked after a few minutes.
"An hour."
Dom looked up toward the mesa top where the pinion and juniper and cedar grew, punctuated by pointed sprays of yucca plants. The clouds had become a solid mass, whose bottom was a blue color, so deep it was nearly black.
"Looks like rain, " Dom said.
Billy nodded.
More silence, more bumps, more growling sounds from the laboring four-wheel-drive truck.
"Why is it called Elf Wash?" Dom asked in a combination of irritation and determination.
"There are pictographs on the cliffs."
Six whole words. Incredible.
"Anasazi?" Dom asked.
Billy shrugged.
"Did other Indians live here when the white man came?" Dom asked, knowing very well that they had.
Not taking his eyes off the road, Billy nodded.
"Mountain Utes?" Dom asked again, knowing the answer.
"Yes," Billy said as he swerved around a mass of shale that had extended a slippery tongue onto the roadway.
Dom hardly noticed the evasive maneuver. He was intent on drawing out the suddenly laconic Billy. Obviously that would require a question that couldn't be answered by yes, no or a shrug. Inspiration came.
"Why are you called Billy?"
"I was the oldest."
"I don't understand."
"Neither did Dad."
Dom gave up the word game and concentrated on the land.
The truck kicked and twitched and skidded around a series of steep, uphill curves, climbing up a mesa spur and onto the top, and then there was a long, reasonably straight run across the spur. Pinion and juniper whipped by, interspersed with a handful of big sage and other drought-adapted shrubs.
Abruptly there was an opening in the pinion and juniper. Though the ground looked no different, big sagebrush grew head high and higher. Their silver gray, twisting branches were thicker than a strong man's arm.
"Stop!" Dom said urgently, reaching across to close his hand around Billy's forearm.
Immediately, the truck shuddered to a halt. Before the pebbles scattered by the tires finished rolling, Dom had his seat belt off and was jumping down from the cab.
"What's wrong?" Billy asked, climbing out of the truck.
Dom didn't answer. Watching the ground with intent, narrowed eyes, he quartered the stand of big sage, twisting and turning, zigzagging across the open areas in the manner of someone searching for something. So involved in his quest, Dom didn't seem to notice the scrapes and scratches the rough brush delivered to his unprotected arms.
Billy hesitated at the edge of the road, wondering if Dom was looking for a little privacy. It had been a long drive from the ranch, and there were no amenities such as gas stations or public rest rooms along the way. Yet Dom seemed more interested in the open areas between clumps of big sage, than in the thicker growths that would have offered more privacy.
Without warning, Dom went down on his knees and began digging hurriedly in the rocky ground. Billy started toward him, ignoring the slap and drag of brush over his clothes, and when he was within ten feet of Dom, Dom gave a cry of triumph and lifted a squarish rock in both hands. Dirt clung to the edges and dappled light fell across the stone's surface, camouflaging its oddly regular shape.
"Look," Dom cried, holding up his prize to Billy.
Billy eased forward until he was close to Dom, ducked a branch that had been going after his eyes, straightened and looked.
"A stone," Billy said neutrally.
Dom didn't notice his lack of enthusiasm. He had enough for both of them, and the truck as well. Nor did Dom notice the dirty streaks left on his jeans when he rubbed the rock back and forth, cleaning the part of the stone that had been buried beneath the dirt. After a few moments, Dom held the rock in a patch of sunlight coming through the open branches of the sage.
"Beautiful." He crooned, running his fingertips delicately along the stone, absorbing the subtle variations in the surface, marks that were the result of applied intelligence, rather than random weathering. "Just…. beautiful."
The throaty timbre of Dom's voice lured Billy as no stone could have. Sinking down, Billy sat on his heels next to Dom and looked closely at the rock that he was continuing to stroke as if it were alive.
The contours of the stone were too even, its edges too angular to be the result of chance. When the light touched the rock just right, tiny dimples could be seen, marks left by countless, patient blows from a stone axe held in the hands of an Anasazi stone mason. Seeing those tangible marks of a long dead man made the skin on Billy's skull tighten in a primal reflex that was far older than the civilized artifact Dom was cherishing in his hands.
Without realizing it, Billy stretched out his own hand, feeling a need to confirm the stone's reality through touch. The rock had the texture of medium sandpaper. The dimples were shallow, more a vague pattern than true pockmarks. Cold from the ground on one end, sun warmed on the other, bearing the marks of man all over its' surface, the stone was enduring testimony to a culture that was known only by the fragmentary ruins.
As Billy's fingers brushed over Dom's on the stone, he spoke. "How did you know this was here?"
"No juniper or pinion, " Dom said absently as he turned the relic over and over in his hands, not even noticing the subtle caresses when Billy fingers touched his.
Glancing around, Billy realized that Dom was right. Despite the luxuriant growth of big sage on the ground, there were no junipers or pinions for fifty yards in either direction.
"They don't grow on ground that has been disturbed," Dom continued, measuring the area of the big sage with his eyes. "When you see a place like this, there's a very good chance that Anasazi ruins lie beneath the surface, covered by the debris of time and wind and rain."
Green eyes narrowed while Billy silently reviewed his knowledge of the surrounding countryside.
"There are a lot of patches of big sage on Aragorn Mesa," he said after a minute "My God, there must be hundreds of places like this on both sides of Elf Wash. That, and the presence of year round water is why the Mortensen's brought rights to this land more than a century ago."
"It was the water and the presence of game that attracted the ancient ones a thousand years ago. Human needs never change. All that changes is how we express those needs." Dom spoke almost to himself.
With the care of a mother returning a baby to its cradle, Dom replaced the rock in its hollow and smoothed the dirt back in place.
"That's what is so exciting about the whole area of Aragorn Mesa," Dom said as he worked. "For a long time we believed that the Aragorn River was the farthest northern reach of the Anasazi in this state. Arwen Canyon proved that we were wrong."
"Not all that wrong," Billy said dryly "You talk as thought we're a hundred miles from the river. We're not. It just seems like it."
Absently, Dom nodded, and when he stood up, he was quite close to Billy, but he didn't even notice. His attention was on the area defined by the silvery, big sage, and he was looking at his surroundings with an almost tangible hunger.
Billy suddenly realized how much he wished that Dom looked at him like that.
"This could have been a field tended by a family and watered by spreader dams and ditches built by the Anasazi," Dom said. "Or it could have been a small community built near a source of good water and food. It could have been the Anasazi equivalent of a church or a convent or a men's club. It could have been so many things….and I doubt if we'll ever know exactly what."
"Why not?" Billy's thoughts were focused on Dom's words again, instead of the intoxicatingly elegant sweep of Dom's fingers as they brushed against his thighs.
Dom turned and focused on Billy with blue eyes that were as dark and as deep as the storm descending across the western sky.
"This is Double L land," Dom said simply. "Private land. Viggo is already bearing the cost of excavating and protecting Arwen Canyon. I doubt that he can afford to make a habit of that kind of generosity."
"Viggo's partner is absorbing the cost, but you're right. Ranching doesn't pay worth a damn as it is. The cost of protecting the whole of Aragorn Mesa…." Billy lifted his Stetson and resettled it with a jerk. "We'd do it if we could, but we can't. It would bankrupt us."
The sad understanding in Dom's smile said more about regret and acceptance than any words could have.
"Even the government can't afford it,” Dom agreed, rubbing his hands absently on his jeans "It doesn't matter which level you appeal to. Even at Mesa Verde, archaeologists have uncovered ruins, measured them, then backfilled them with dirt. It was the only way to protect them from wind, rain and pothunters."
Billy looked around the rugged mesa top and said quietly, "Maybe that's best. Whatever is beneath the earth has been buried for centuries. A few more centuries won't make any difference."
"Here, probably not," Dom said, gesturing to the big sage. "But on the cliffs or the edges of the mesa, the ruins that aren't buried are disintegrating or being dismantled by pot hunters. That's why the work in Arwen Canyon is so important. What we don't learn from it now probably won't be available to learn later. The ruins will have been picked over, packed up and shipped out to private collections all over the world."
The passion and regret in Dom's voice riveted Billy, and he was reaching out to touch Dom, to hold him in silent comfort when he caught himself. A touch from a man he feared would hardly be a comfort.
"Don't sell this countryside short when it comes to protecting its own," Billy said. "The big sage may be a giveaway on Aragorn Mesa, but this is a damned inconvenient place to get to."
Slowly, almost unwillingly, Dom focused on Billy, sensing his desire to comfort him as clearly as the kitten had sensed it's safety within Billy's hands.
"As for the scores of little canyons that might hold cliff ruins," Billy said watching Dom, sensing the soft, uncurling of his tightly held trust. "Most of those canyons haven't seen a man since the Anasazi left. Any man. What's hidden, stays hidden."
Billy’s brogue, with its subtle velvet rasp, swirled around Dom, holding him still, even as it caressed him. He stared at the clear depths of Billy's eyes, and felt a curious mix of hunger and wariness, yearning and ….familiarity."
"And if some of those ruins are never found, is that so bad?" Billy asked softly. He spoke slowly, watching Dom's eyes, trying to explain something he had never put into words, even for himself. "Like the Anasazi, the ruins came from time and the land. It's only right that some of them return to their beginning, untouched by any but Anasazi hands."
A throaty muttering of thunder rode the freshening wind. The sound seeped into Dom's awareness, brining with it a dizzying feeling of déjà vu, of overlapping realities, of time, like a deck of cards being reshuffled, and the sound of that shuffling was muted thunder. His breathing slowed and then stopped as an eerie certainty condensed with him. He had known Billy before, had stood on a mesa top with him before, had walked with him through the pinion and sun and silence, had slept next to his warmth while lightening and rain renewed the land.
The feeling passed, leaving Dom shaken, disoriented, staring at a man that should've been a stranger and was not. Thunder came again, closer, insistent. He took a deep breath, infusing himself with the elemental, unforgettable pungency of sage and pinion, juniper and storm coming down.
Closing his eyes, Dom breathed deeply, filling himself with the storm wind, feeling it touch parts of him that had been curled shut tightly for too many years. The sensation of freedom and vulnerability that followed was frightening and exhilarating at the same time, like swimming nude in a midnight lake.
"Storm coming, " Billy said, his voice thick and roughly accented, looking away from Dom because if he watched him drink in the wind any longer he wouldn't be able to stop himself touching the younger man. "If we're going to cross Elf Wash, we have to hurry. Unless you've changed your mind?"
Dom's eyes opened, and he saw a powerful man standing motionless, silhouetted against sunlight and thunderheads, his head turned away from him. Then Billy looked back at Dom, and his eyes were like cut emeralds against his pale face.
"Dom?"
The sound of his name rolling so breathily on Billy's lips made sensation glitter through Dom's body from breastbone to knees, an awakening awareness he hadn't felt in years.
"Yes," he said, trying to sound business-like and failing. "I'm coming."
Chapter 6
Author:
sassywitch Pairing: BB/DM with a smattering of VM/LT and DW/OB
Rating: NC-17, to be on the safe side.
Summary: Billy is a man to be reckoned with. Can Dom heal his wounded soul and his own into the bargain. Could Billy make him forget the bitter lessons of the past?
Feedback: Feedback is my writers crack, which is not to be confused at all with plumbers crack.
Disclaimer: Not at all true in reality. These men whilst adorable and perfectly happy to slash themselves, their actual relationship is something that they only know. This story is adapted from a series of books that I adored when I was younger written by Elizabeth Lowell.
Word Count: 2978
Header Art: Courtesy of the incredibly talented
loki_girlPrevious Chapters: can be found Here
A/N: A huge thank you to
dylan_dufresne for the inspiration, the prodding and the beta. My grammar sucks so she had to suffer it so nobody else would. Next Chapter will be posted on Wednesday. Billy sat and watched the emotions fighting within Dom; anger, fear, hope, confusion, curiosity, longing. The extent of Dom's reluctance to go on to Arwen Canyon surprised him. He had glimpsed the depth of Dom's passion for the Anasazi, and if he were considering turning and walking away from Arwen Canyon, he must be in the grip of a fear that was very real to him, despite the fact that Billy knew of no reason for that fear. While most people might have been initially uneasy at spending time alone with a stranger in a remote place, their instinctive wariness would have been balanced by the knowledge that their unexpected companion was a man who had the deepest respect and trust of the people he lived among.
That fact, however, didn't seem to make much difference to Dom.
"Can you talk about it?" Billy asked finally.
"What?"
"Why you're afraid of men. Is it your father?"
Dom looked at Billy's searching, intent eyes, sensing the intelligence and the strength of will in him, reaching out to him, asking Dom to trust him.
Abruptly, Dom felt hemmed in, required to do something for which he was unprepared.
"Stop hounding me," Dom said through clenched teeth "You have no right to my secrets any more than any man has a right to my body!"
For an instant there was an electric silence stretching tightly between Billy and Dom, and then Billy turned away from Dom to look out over the land. The silence lengthened until the idling of the trucks engine was as loud as thunder. When Billy finally turned back toward Dom, his face was expressionless, his eyes were hooded and his voice held none of the mixture of emotions it had before.
"In an hour or less, those clouds will get together and rain very hard. Then Elf Wash will become impassable. Anyone who is at the Arwen Canyon site will be forced to stay there. Which will it be Dr. Monaghan? Forward to the dig, or back to the ranch?"
Billy's voice was even, uninflected, polite. It was like having a stranger ask for the time of day.
Bitterly, Dom reminded himself that Billy was a stranger, yet somehow he hadn't seemed like one until just now. From the moment Billy had held out the injured kitten to Dom, Billy had treated him as though he were an old friend, newly discovered. Dom hadn't even realized the….warmth….of his presence until it had been withdrawn.
Now Dom had an absurd impulse to reach out and touch Billy, to protest the appearance of the handsome, self-contained stranger who waited for his answer with cool attention, Billy's whole attitude telling him that whether Dom chose to go forward or back made no personal difference to him.
"Arwen Canyon," Dom said after a minute. Although he had tried, Dom's voice wasn't as controlled as Billy's had been.
Billy took off the brake and resumed driving.
Eventually the silence, which Dom had welcomed before, began to eat at his nerves. Dom looked out the window, but found himself glancing again and again toward Billy. He told himself that it was only Billy's casual skill with the truck that fascinated Dom, that he had done enough rough-country travel in the past to admire Billy's expertise. And it was Billy's expertise that he was admiring, not the subtle flex and play of his strong, muscular biceps beneath the faded green work shirt he wore.
"You're a very good driver, " Dom said
Billy nodded indifferently.
Silence returned and lengthened, filling the cab until Dom rolled down the window just to hear the whistle of the wind, telling himself the lack of conversation didn't bother him. After all, he had been the one to resist talk during the long hours since dawn. When Billy had pointed out something along the road or asked about his work, Dom had nodded or answered briefly, but had had no questions of his own to offer.
But now that he thought about it, Dom had a perfect right to ask a few business-like questions of Billy and get a few business-like answers in return.
"Will it distract you to talk?" Dom asked finally.
"No."
Brief and to the point. Very business-like. Irritating, too. Silently, Dom asked himself if his earlier, brief, impersonal answers had seemed so cool and clipped to Billy.
"I didn't mean to be rude earlier, " he said.
"You weren't."
Dom waited, but Billy said nothing more.
"How much farther is it to Arwen Canyon?" Dom asked after a few minutes.
"An hour."
Dom looked up toward the mesa top where the pinion and juniper and cedar grew, punctuated by pointed sprays of yucca plants. The clouds had become a solid mass, whose bottom was a blue color, so deep it was nearly black.
"Looks like rain, " Dom said.
Billy nodded.
More silence, more bumps, more growling sounds from the laboring four-wheel-drive truck.
"Why is it called Elf Wash?" Dom asked in a combination of irritation and determination.
"There are pictographs on the cliffs."
Six whole words. Incredible.
"Anasazi?" Dom asked.
Billy shrugged.
"Did other Indians live here when the white man came?" Dom asked, knowing very well that they had.
Not taking his eyes off the road, Billy nodded.
"Mountain Utes?" Dom asked again, knowing the answer.
"Yes," Billy said as he swerved around a mass of shale that had extended a slippery tongue onto the roadway.
Dom hardly noticed the evasive maneuver. He was intent on drawing out the suddenly laconic Billy. Obviously that would require a question that couldn't be answered by yes, no or a shrug. Inspiration came.
"Why are you called Billy?"
"I was the oldest."
"I don't understand."
"Neither did Dad."
Dom gave up the word game and concentrated on the land.
The truck kicked and twitched and skidded around a series of steep, uphill curves, climbing up a mesa spur and onto the top, and then there was a long, reasonably straight run across the spur. Pinion and juniper whipped by, interspersed with a handful of big sage and other drought-adapted shrubs.
Abruptly there was an opening in the pinion and juniper. Though the ground looked no different, big sagebrush grew head high and higher. Their silver gray, twisting branches were thicker than a strong man's arm.
"Stop!" Dom said urgently, reaching across to close his hand around Billy's forearm.
Immediately, the truck shuddered to a halt. Before the pebbles scattered by the tires finished rolling, Dom had his seat belt off and was jumping down from the cab.
"What's wrong?" Billy asked, climbing out of the truck.
Dom didn't answer. Watching the ground with intent, narrowed eyes, he quartered the stand of big sage, twisting and turning, zigzagging across the open areas in the manner of someone searching for something. So involved in his quest, Dom didn't seem to notice the scrapes and scratches the rough brush delivered to his unprotected arms.
Billy hesitated at the edge of the road, wondering if Dom was looking for a little privacy. It had been a long drive from the ranch, and there were no amenities such as gas stations or public rest rooms along the way. Yet Dom seemed more interested in the open areas between clumps of big sage, than in the thicker growths that would have offered more privacy.
Without warning, Dom went down on his knees and began digging hurriedly in the rocky ground. Billy started toward him, ignoring the slap and drag of brush over his clothes, and when he was within ten feet of Dom, Dom gave a cry of triumph and lifted a squarish rock in both hands. Dirt clung to the edges and dappled light fell across the stone's surface, camouflaging its oddly regular shape.
"Look," Dom cried, holding up his prize to Billy.
Billy eased forward until he was close to Dom, ducked a branch that had been going after his eyes, straightened and looked.
"A stone," Billy said neutrally.
Dom didn't notice his lack of enthusiasm. He had enough for both of them, and the truck as well. Nor did Dom notice the dirty streaks left on his jeans when he rubbed the rock back and forth, cleaning the part of the stone that had been buried beneath the dirt. After a few moments, Dom held the rock in a patch of sunlight coming through the open branches of the sage.
"Beautiful." He crooned, running his fingertips delicately along the stone, absorbing the subtle variations in the surface, marks that were the result of applied intelligence, rather than random weathering. "Just…. beautiful."
The throaty timbre of Dom's voice lured Billy as no stone could have. Sinking down, Billy sat on his heels next to Dom and looked closely at the rock that he was continuing to stroke as if it were alive.
The contours of the stone were too even, its edges too angular to be the result of chance. When the light touched the rock just right, tiny dimples could be seen, marks left by countless, patient blows from a stone axe held in the hands of an Anasazi stone mason. Seeing those tangible marks of a long dead man made the skin on Billy's skull tighten in a primal reflex that was far older than the civilized artifact Dom was cherishing in his hands.
Without realizing it, Billy stretched out his own hand, feeling a need to confirm the stone's reality through touch. The rock had the texture of medium sandpaper. The dimples were shallow, more a vague pattern than true pockmarks. Cold from the ground on one end, sun warmed on the other, bearing the marks of man all over its' surface, the stone was enduring testimony to a culture that was known only by the fragmentary ruins.
As Billy's fingers brushed over Dom's on the stone, he spoke. "How did you know this was here?"
"No juniper or pinion, " Dom said absently as he turned the relic over and over in his hands, not even noticing the subtle caresses when Billy fingers touched his.
Glancing around, Billy realized that Dom was right. Despite the luxuriant growth of big sage on the ground, there were no junipers or pinions for fifty yards in either direction.
"They don't grow on ground that has been disturbed," Dom continued, measuring the area of the big sage with his eyes. "When you see a place like this, there's a very good chance that Anasazi ruins lie beneath the surface, covered by the debris of time and wind and rain."
Green eyes narrowed while Billy silently reviewed his knowledge of the surrounding countryside.
"There are a lot of patches of big sage on Aragorn Mesa," he said after a minute "My God, there must be hundreds of places like this on both sides of Elf Wash. That, and the presence of year round water is why the Mortensen's brought rights to this land more than a century ago."
"It was the water and the presence of game that attracted the ancient ones a thousand years ago. Human needs never change. All that changes is how we express those needs." Dom spoke almost to himself.
With the care of a mother returning a baby to its cradle, Dom replaced the rock in its hollow and smoothed the dirt back in place.
"That's what is so exciting about the whole area of Aragorn Mesa," Dom said as he worked. "For a long time we believed that the Aragorn River was the farthest northern reach of the Anasazi in this state. Arwen Canyon proved that we were wrong."
"Not all that wrong," Billy said dryly "You talk as thought we're a hundred miles from the river. We're not. It just seems like it."
Absently, Dom nodded, and when he stood up, he was quite close to Billy, but he didn't even notice. His attention was on the area defined by the silvery, big sage, and he was looking at his surroundings with an almost tangible hunger.
Billy suddenly realized how much he wished that Dom looked at him like that.
"This could have been a field tended by a family and watered by spreader dams and ditches built by the Anasazi," Dom said. "Or it could have been a small community built near a source of good water and food. It could have been the Anasazi equivalent of a church or a convent or a men's club. It could have been so many things….and I doubt if we'll ever know exactly what."
"Why not?" Billy's thoughts were focused on Dom's words again, instead of the intoxicatingly elegant sweep of Dom's fingers as they brushed against his thighs.
Dom turned and focused on Billy with blue eyes that were as dark and as deep as the storm descending across the western sky.
"This is Double L land," Dom said simply. "Private land. Viggo is already bearing the cost of excavating and protecting Arwen Canyon. I doubt that he can afford to make a habit of that kind of generosity."
"Viggo's partner is absorbing the cost, but you're right. Ranching doesn't pay worth a damn as it is. The cost of protecting the whole of Aragorn Mesa…." Billy lifted his Stetson and resettled it with a jerk. "We'd do it if we could, but we can't. It would bankrupt us."
The sad understanding in Dom's smile said more about regret and acceptance than any words could have.
"Even the government can't afford it,” Dom agreed, rubbing his hands absently on his jeans "It doesn't matter which level you appeal to. Even at Mesa Verde, archaeologists have uncovered ruins, measured them, then backfilled them with dirt. It was the only way to protect them from wind, rain and pothunters."
Billy looked around the rugged mesa top and said quietly, "Maybe that's best. Whatever is beneath the earth has been buried for centuries. A few more centuries won't make any difference."
"Here, probably not," Dom said, gesturing to the big sage. "But on the cliffs or the edges of the mesa, the ruins that aren't buried are disintegrating or being dismantled by pot hunters. That's why the work in Arwen Canyon is so important. What we don't learn from it now probably won't be available to learn later. The ruins will have been picked over, packed up and shipped out to private collections all over the world."
The passion and regret in Dom's voice riveted Billy, and he was reaching out to touch Dom, to hold him in silent comfort when he caught himself. A touch from a man he feared would hardly be a comfort.
"Don't sell this countryside short when it comes to protecting its own," Billy said. "The big sage may be a giveaway on Aragorn Mesa, but this is a damned inconvenient place to get to."
Slowly, almost unwillingly, Dom focused on Billy, sensing his desire to comfort him as clearly as the kitten had sensed it's safety within Billy's hands.
"As for the scores of little canyons that might hold cliff ruins," Billy said watching Dom, sensing the soft, uncurling of his tightly held trust. "Most of those canyons haven't seen a man since the Anasazi left. Any man. What's hidden, stays hidden."
Billy’s brogue, with its subtle velvet rasp, swirled around Dom, holding him still, even as it caressed him. He stared at the clear depths of Billy's eyes, and felt a curious mix of hunger and wariness, yearning and ….familiarity."
"And if some of those ruins are never found, is that so bad?" Billy asked softly. He spoke slowly, watching Dom's eyes, trying to explain something he had never put into words, even for himself. "Like the Anasazi, the ruins came from time and the land. It's only right that some of them return to their beginning, untouched by any but Anasazi hands."
A throaty muttering of thunder rode the freshening wind. The sound seeped into Dom's awareness, brining with it a dizzying feeling of déjà vu, of overlapping realities, of time, like a deck of cards being reshuffled, and the sound of that shuffling was muted thunder. His breathing slowed and then stopped as an eerie certainty condensed with him. He had known Billy before, had stood on a mesa top with him before, had walked with him through the pinion and sun and silence, had slept next to his warmth while lightening and rain renewed the land.
The feeling passed, leaving Dom shaken, disoriented, staring at a man that should've been a stranger and was not. Thunder came again, closer, insistent. He took a deep breath, infusing himself with the elemental, unforgettable pungency of sage and pinion, juniper and storm coming down.
Closing his eyes, Dom breathed deeply, filling himself with the storm wind, feeling it touch parts of him that had been curled shut tightly for too many years. The sensation of freedom and vulnerability that followed was frightening and exhilarating at the same time, like swimming nude in a midnight lake.
"Storm coming, " Billy said, his voice thick and roughly accented, looking away from Dom because if he watched him drink in the wind any longer he wouldn't be able to stop himself touching the younger man. "If we're going to cross Elf Wash, we have to hurry. Unless you've changed your mind?"
Dom's eyes opened, and he saw a powerful man standing motionless, silhouetted against sunlight and thunderheads, his head turned away from him. Then Billy looked back at Dom, and his eyes were like cut emeralds against his pale face.
"Dom?"
The sound of his name rolling so breathily on Billy's lips made sensation glitter through Dom's body from breastbone to knees, an awakening awareness he hadn't felt in years.
"Yes," he said, trying to sound business-like and failing. "I'm coming."
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I'm actually really in love with this story. Everything, very little detail and ... awww, great.
:)
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I want a Cowboy Billy of my own.
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hee. Viggo's silent partner would be Billy.
i love the vivid descriptions you use for setting their location. sounds beautiful. i'm deeply engrossed by this story, and by Dom's slow but steady attraction to Billy.
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Dom's slowly coming around but it'll take him time.
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Glad you're enjoying it.
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yay! (happy dance)
I eagerly await the next chapter!
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Re: yay! (happy dance)
Next chapter will be up tonight.
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Glad you're enjoying it.
BTW, How goes the apartment hunt?
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Glad you're enjoying it.
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This fic is great. Beautifully and intelligently written. I love the descriptions of the land, especially the smells of sage and pinion and approaching thunder. Mmmm.
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Thanks for your kind words hon.
Glad you're enjoying it.
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Looking forward to the next part!
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Next part will be posted tonight.