Gideon slowly pulled into the Club behind Savannah. He didn’t have a choice but to go slow. The club compound that always was moderately busy but never felt full had been transformed in more ways than one. Large, low wattage light bulbs had been strung on and between the buildings. They glowed a warm yellow. The parking lot was full to the brim with barely space enough for an auto to get between them with motorcycles, a few still running and proudly showing off their lights. He couldn’t see much else other than people.

He slowed his auto to a crawl.

Someone shouted.

They mobbed his auto, banging on the hood, the top and the trunk. Gideon checked his speed gauge and winced. He really couldn’t go any slower. The crowd shouted and cheered and then moved out of his way enough that he could park.

Gideon shut the auto off and braced himself. He opened the door. Brand grabbed him, put his arms around his shoulders and hugged him, pounding on Gideon’s back. Gideon couldn’t think of anything to do but hug him back. Brand kissed both his cheeks and then kept one arm around Gideon as he turned to face the crowd. He raised his hand.

The crowd silenced.

Gideon found himself the target of a countless number of wide and shining eyes. The crowd grinned at him. Their shoulders were straight, postures erect. Their muscles poised for something. There was a feeling of eager anticipation in the air.

They all knew why they were here. Brand didn’t have to remind them. “Join me in welcoming our new brother!” he shouted and lowered his arm.

Cheers erupted. Wolves howled. There were sounds of banging.

Gideon’s eyes widened and he reached back and touched his auto for support. He’d shown up. Could he go back to his apartment now?

Brand looked at Gideon and lowered his voice. “Try not to look green,” he murmured. He tugged Gideon forward.

Gideon jerked his head and glanced back at Brand.

The crowd parted. People pounded Gideon’s back. They headed deeper into the crowd and away from the comparative safety of Gideon’s auto. He looked around for Savannah and couldn’t find her. People said things at him. Gideon mostly couldn’t hear them over the general noise. Tables had been set up under the strings of lights. They were laden down until they bowed in the middle with all sorts of food.

Someone shoved a drink into Gideon’s hand. Brand stopped the two of them next to a large pile of plates. Brand raised his arm again, this time with a drink in it.

The crowd quieted again.

“A toast!” Brand shouted. “To Gideon!”

“To Gideon!” the crowd shouted back.

Gideon’s face flushed but he drank with the rest. The crowd started to talk again.

Brand patted his back. “You first,” he said and took Gideon’s glass from him. He handed it to someone else. Gideon had no idea where the glass went once it left Brand’s hand.

Gideon took a plate and looked at Brand. Savannah stepped up next to him and put a hand on his arm.

“Don’t eat anything until Padre says grace,” she murmured and then nudged him. “Go on.”

If Savannah said it was all right, Gideon figured it was. He moved down the line and soon the crowd formed a line on both sides of the table. The contents of the serving dishes amused him as he remembered Houston’s desire for breakfast for dinner.

Piles of pancakes, waffles and toast of all types and flavors, studded with fruit and chocolate chips, dusted with powdered sugar. Bowls filled with pie fillings, applesauce, meat and mushroom gravies, maple syrup, whipped cream, mounds of butter, sliced fruit and mixed fruit salads. Fruit salads made with flavored gelatin, whipped cream and bits of fruit.

He took a generous helping of sliced peaches floating in their own juice. There were trays of sliced cheese. Fried eggs, scrambled eggs, omelet style scrambled eggs, next to bowls of salsa and sour cream. The vegetables, what there were, were hidden in the eggs or in the salsa. Pans filled with sausage, bacon, ham, and when he got towards the end,

“You want a steak?” a guy asked him who stood next to the grill.

Gideon eyed his plate, filled with chocolate chip studded pancakes, scrambled eggs with mushrooms, onions, and olives topped with salsa and sour cream, a pile of bacon, and of course, the peaches. “I think I’ve got room.”

The guy grinned, grabbed one of the steaks off the grill with his tongs, and stuck it on the side of Gideon’s plate.

Gideon half smiled at him. “Thanks,” he said. The guy winked at him and Gideon stepped away from the line and tried to get out of the way enough to take stock of the situation.

There were people everywhere. And unlike at potlatch where there were more than adequate amount of tables and chairs set up for people to sit, Gideon couldn’t see any chairs in his line of view. And then there were people, really tall people, short people, don’t step on the kiddies people.

He repressed a whimper in the back of his throat. He was an extrovert. However, two hundred strangers were straining his abilities to cope.

And there was no one he recognized right off the top of his head. It was with a somewhat sinking stomach that Gideon realized that the number of people he knew here by name he could count on his fingers and toes and have toes remaining. He turned to look for Savannah.

She was no longer in line and nowhere in sight.

Ashley stepped up out of line and saw him. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. There was the new, handsome prospect and Savannah had disappeared. She double-checked to make sure her black dress was laying right and then sidled up to him. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” she said.

Gideon looked at her. Was that a question or a statement or an expression of an opinion? He didn’t know. And the second to last time he’d run into this girl, she’d been exactly the same way. It was maddening. Could she give him an opening line that was clear to work with? “I haven’t been properly introduced to much of anybody,” he replied.

Ashley sniffed. “Savannah,” she started.

Padre interrupted. “Let us bow our heads for grace,” he said in a voice that wasn’t a shout but somehow still carried.

Gideon flashed a smile at Ashley, despite wanting to know what the hell she was about to say about Savannah, and looked at his plate. It was that or focus on Ashley’s high heels.

“Our Heavenly Father,” Padre started. “Thank you for this food you have granted us, and the company you have given us. In your name, Amen.”

“Amen,” echoed the Club.

Gideon looked up and didn’t say anything until the talking started up again. “Miss Ashley.”

She blinked at him several times.

He restrained a grin. He wondered if anyone had ever called her Miss before.

Ashley reached up and tucked her deep red curls behind her ear. “It is really Savannah’s job to introduce you to people, but as she seems to have abandoned you.”

“Abandoned?” Eberron interrupted. “Savannah didn’t abandon him, Ash. Houston grabbed her for urgent VP business that we peons aren’t supposed to know about.”

Ashley stiffened. “Peons,” she said. She was an officer.

Eberron grinned at her and wrapped an arm about Gideon. “Me and the prospect here, I’ll introduce Gideon around to the guys. If you want to go stick your nose in and find out what business it’s about, I’m sure you ladies will all manage to introduce yourselves.”

Ashley pressed her lips together, nodded once, and spun on her heel and marched away.

“Peons?” Gideon asked and tried not to laugh. That had sent Ashley off with a bee in her ear.

“You couldn’t pay me to be an officer, which is why I live here and not somewhere else,” Eberron said. “Come on, Prospect. You need a drink. You’re doing this backwards.”

“I wasn’t given much choice,” Gideon pointed out to him.

Eberron grinned. “Yeah. I remember my welcoming party. Damn. I think I had a hangover for three days. Note, don’t let family feed you drinks.”

“You’ve got family in Jasper?” Gideon went after one of the peaches with his fork, gave up and used his fingers as they walked.

“I did,” Eberron said. “Then he went Nomad.” Eberron shrugged, as if he didn’t understand precisely why.

Gideon’s eyes narrowed. “Is this that cousin Blake was talking about?”

“Something like that.” They approached the drinks table where a bunch of young men, mostly with dark hair in various shades and having a beard or a beginning of a beard. Eberron stopped them next to it. They all wore vests with the full set of patches of the Club. “Hey boys! Meet our newest victim.”

“Not a victim,” Gideon muttered.

“You’re putting yourself through this willingly. You’re a victim,” Eberron corrected.

“So did you,” Gideon pointed out. Suddenly, he relaxed a bit. He could go to Eberron for advice if he needed it without bothering Savannah. He tensed a bit. That is if Eberron would not be a smart ass and actually give it to him. His bets were on Eberron being a smart ass.

“Ah, but I now have seniority.” Eberron looked around. “All right, you know Dana, the beauty on his arm is his girl, Merle, and you’ve met Quinn and Blake, and the little beauty on his arm is his daughter, Poppet.”

Poppet ducked her head into Blake’s shoulder, peering out at Gideon from under thick black eyelashes. She smiled at him. Blake shifted her a little bit. “My wife, Poppy, is in line,” he said.

Gideon glanced over at it.

“Orange dress,” Blake supplied.

Oh, Gideon’s favorite color, once he knew that, Poppy was easier to spot. Gideon looked back and grinned. Poppet was wearing a miniature version of the orange dress Poppy wore and matched the orange flower in Blake’s bowler hat. Gideon wasn’t too sure about that bowler hat. “I remember her now,” he said to Blake.

Blake grinned at him.

Eberron continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “You’ve met Reese and his girl, Dakota. You know the Bobsky boys, Misha and Sasha.”

Sasha grinned at him behind his beard. “To the man who makes me money!” He reached out and punched Gideon’s shoulder.

Eberron continued, “Misha’s wife, Darkside. Deputy Josiah.”

Josiah winked at Gideon. “My wife, Christie, is with the girls picking up their art projects. But I’m sure she’ll manage an introduction.”

“Someone who looks familiar but I know you haven’t met, Jordan’s little brother, Levi.”

Levi grinned. “I’m taller than he is.”

Gideon eyed him. “You two look exactly alike,” he said. He didn’t think Levi was actually any taller than Jordan. The statement had the feeling of an inside joke.

Levi shrugged and continued to grin. Gideon decided that he might be able to tell them apart from expression alone. Jordan was dour and scowled. Levi seemed happy and smiled.

“Now for the people you don’t know.” Eberron let Gideon go and rubbed his hands together. He pointed at a Hispanic man that Gideon recognized from over a week ago but didn’t know his name. “Joaquin, one of Beda’s many grandchildren, don’t worry about how many times removed, but the only one of his generation living around here that is male.”

Joaquin grinned and his white teeth flashed against his tanned face. “Hola, amigo.”

“Grant,” Eberron said and pointed at a man with darker skin than Joaquin, a man who looked like he had African in his heritage. “And his forced upon buddy, Cole,” Eberron pointed at another guy who while tanned looked more European. “They’ve been assigned to guard Ashley.”

“Woe is us,” Grant said.

Cole gave Gideon something of a cold look. Gideon remembered him as the guy he’d had a bout with. It seemed Cole still wasn’t completely over whatever stick he had up his ass. It wasn’t Gideon’s problem. Gideon wasn’t about to give a shit about it.

“And in no particular order whatsoever,” Eberron said and rattled off at least half a dozen more names that Gideon barely caught much less figured out what name belonged to who. “And the others must be in line or with their girlfriends,” Eberron finished. “We’ll get them later.”

“And if we don’t get in line, we won’t get any food!” Joaquin joked and winked at Gideon.

The guys laughed and slapped at each other as they headed off to find the end of the line.

Gideon grabbed a soda from the table. “I think I’m going to sit on my auto,” he muttered.

“Excellent plan,” Eberron paused. “If you can get there.” Eberron straightened and grinned at him. “Good luck.”

---

Houston had grabbed Savannah as they were both coming out of line and under the excuse of needing to discuss ‘important vice presidential’ matters with her and had dragged her away to the company of one of Brand’s friends, Finn, the man who had been Vice President at one time. Finn was blonde which he kept short, almost a buzz cut, stick thin with a long sardonic face.

Houston grinned at her. “Now that we both have a selection of a truly fine repast, though it would be better if we had started when the sun was coming up instead of when the sun was going down, would you like advice about mentoring the prospect?”

Savannah raised an eyebrow at Houston. “There were important things to be done today,” she said. She turned to Finn. “Did your pups get their projects yet?”

Finn grinned at her. “Oh yes, I’ve been informed that at least one of them is for me. The others shall be displayed proudly upon the refrigerator with last year’s set.”

Savannah laughed. She looked back at Houston. “Unsolicited advice is often self-serving,” she reminded him.

Houston grinned. “Yes, of course, this is completely self-serving. We, as current and former Vice Presidents, have a reputation to protect! And this is your first prospect and thus, it is important that things go well. For when prospects are assigned to officers, it is either good,” Houston paused, “or bad.”

Savannah’s tone dropped and she shifted her weight to one hip. “Thank you for the vote of confidence and the feeling of ominous foreboding.”

“Aww,” Houston said and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I have faith in you, honey bunny. It is a delicate balance between pushing and hovering. And I asked, and didn’t pontificate!”

“Meaning?”

Finn rolled his blue eyes. Houston was prancing about the subject and being hyperbolic, as Houston tended to do. “Meaning, Savannah, that if you need any advice at all, or have any questions or anything, we are here to hear you out.”

“Oh.” Savannah bit her lip. “Mostly about grandfather’s motivations. Did you know that Gideon is former Special Forces and grandfather didn’t tell me?”

Finn tried to hold back a laugh and failed. It burst out between his lips.

“That’s not exactly the advice I meant,” Houston muttered.

“And is it always difficult?” The question exploded from Savannah.

The two men looked at each other.

Houston squeezed her shoulder. “He doesn’t know anything about us. Take it one step at a time.”

“That’s a yes,” she grumbled.

“Manners and motorcycle first,” Finn advised.

“He doesn’t seem to be lacking the first,” Houston pointed out.

Finn raised an eyebrow. “He might be a little too mannerly.”

Savannah looked between them. “I see Flossie by the cupcakes.”

“Yes, escape while you can,” Finn said.

Savannah ducked out of Houston’s arm and darted away.

Houston pouted. “Now why did you have to go and do that? I hadn’t gotten to my sage pieces of advice yet.”

“Which you worked hours on.”

“I have to do something with my mind under that transport.”

Finn grinned. “And will be completely lost on her.”

“Sigh. She’s stubborn.”

“Plus, she went after Flossie who is with Frankie and not after Gideon.”

Houston brightened. “Point to you.”

“That’s three points to me, none to you. I’m winning.”

“Yes. But I have food.” Houston picked up a piece of bacon and ate it. “Mmmmm.”

Finn growled and left to get in line.

---

Gideon got three steps before someone else shifted into his walking path.

The girl smiled at him. “Not leaving us already?” she asked.

Gideon looked her up and down, and despite the leather vest, the overall impression he received was ‘cheerleader.’ Her brunette hair was carefully arranged and styled. Her makeup was minimal but reminded him of Silvia’s, his cheerleader ex-girlfriend from high school, pink lip-gloss, mascara with eyeliner, pastel eye shadow. Under her kutte, the brunette wore a button down white shirt and a black pencil skirt, an outfit that didn’t look at all suitable to riding a motorcycle. Her fingernails were done with a pastel pink base to match her lip-gloss and a silver tip. Gideon repressed uneasiness. Silvia was an ex-girlfriend for a reason.

“No,” he said. At least her opening was easier than Ashley’s. “I was headed for a place to sit.”

“In the parking lot?” She fiddled with her tennis bracelet.

Gideon narrowed his eyes. He really didn’t owe her an explanation. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She flushed. “I’m Brier,” she said with a toss of her head.

“Nice to meet you, Brier,” Gideon said with a polite smile.

“Savannah has been hogging you all to herself,” Brier said. She lowered her eyelashes. “That’s not right. You should know all your options about Jasper.”

Options? Gideon’s heart picked up and he felt sweat break out in his palms. What in hell did she mean by options? First Ashley had offered to introduce him around, whatever that meant, and now this girl, Brier, was telling him he had options. Panic seemed to be a good emotion to have at that moment. How was he going to extract himself from this offer?

Savannah looked over from the dessert table. She spotted Gideon and Brier. “Rabid rhododendrons,” she muttered. “There they go.” She shifted her weight and started to move.

Flossie put a hand on her forearm, stopping her. “Let them get it all out of the way at once,” she said.

Frankie nodded and picked up a cupcake with a motorcycle on it. She added it to her plate. “He’s an adult, Savvy. If he needs help, he’ll tell you.”

Savannah’s brow furrowed. “How? I’m over here and he’s over there.”

“You’ll know,” Frankie said.

Savannah bit her lip. “All right,” she muttered.

Brier smiled and continued to talk, either not noticing or not caring about Gideon’s panic. “There are more girls in Jasper than Savannah’s friends. Besides, her friends are all taken.”

In Gideon’s opinion, this ignored the fact that Savannah was single and that he might be interested in Savannah already. As if, in Brier’s opinion, that Savannah wasn’t female enough or interesting enough for him to have romantic designs upon.

His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched in anger. He decided not to point this out to Brier due to her resemblance to Silvia in style. Silvia was blonde with blue eyes, not brunette with brown eyes, they didn’t look the same. Silvia would have smiled sweetly and agreed with his assessment. “There are Ashley’s friends.”

“And mine.” Brier raised an eyebrow. “And there are females in our age group that aren’t affiliated with a group with a recognized leader too.”

Gideon bit his tongue. She was going to try to tell him who was acceptable and who wasn’t. “I’ll keep my eyes open,” he said. “Excuse me.” He walked around her.

Brier pursed her lips and pushed her hair back. That hadn’t gone as well as she’d hoped.