Ely Parker Quotes

As he shook hands with Grant’s military secretary Ely Parker, a Seneca Indian, Lee stared a moment at Parker’s dark features and said, “I am glad to see one real American here.” Parker responded, “We are all Americans.”39

a full-blooded Seneca Iroquois sachem, Ely S. Parker, who grew up on an Indian reservation in upstate New York and was a chief of the Six Nations. Trained as a civil engineer, he was a man of giant girth with jet-black hair, penetrating eyes, and exceptional strength who styled himself a “savage Jack Falstaff of 200 [pound] weight.

Cal begun ditching church services by age ten. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged him back, or so he’d thought, but a few years later he’d found himself sitting at Eli’s side in that rear pew just to spend extra time with him. God, that had felt so forbidden. He'd been half hard through so many sermons that he prayed there wasn’t a God. If a higher power existed, he was damn certain going to hell for all the sinful thoughts he'd entertained in a church.

Eli Jackson was an honest man, but Cal had watched him lie to his father's face without a twinge of shame. He was a gentle man, but Cal had seen just how dark his rage could take him. He'd had to pull Eli off Tucker Grace before he killed him in revenge. Eli was a hard, stubborn man, but he had the most tender need to care for others that Cal had ever witnessed. He was both calm and fury, sunshine and storm, and Cal had once been willing to sell his soul to learn his secrets.

I don’t need to use my cock to fuck you, Cal. I’m fucking you right this minute. I can fuck you with my fingers, my tongue, my eyes. I could fuck you with my words alone, and you’d come for me, wouldn’t you?” Cal’s thighs quivered, his inner core spasming around Eli’s fingers. “Please, Eli...” “Please, what?” “Please donate to the American Red Cross!” Cal yelled, thrashing against him in frustration. “What the hell do you think I mean, asshole? Fuck me! Fill me up and pound me into the mattress and fuck—

widening. “Don’t you dare draw their fire.”  Lynn.   Jonathan committed the name to memory. The outsiders didn’t seem to notice the man’s slip. They kept their weapons trained on the girl. She glared at them as if daring them to kill her. “Go ahead! Shoot! I’m sick of being hunted by you! Kill me and claim the fame. Do it!”  Parker dodged forward, rushing past any and all that stood between him and the woman named Lynn. He shoved his body in front of hers in a protective manner and glared at the men. “You’ll not harm her. She’s under my protection now.”  Eli let out a low whistle. “Never did I see that coming. Saw-bones is a born skirt-chaser. Think he might have The Fever or something? He’s always doctorin’ folks with weird ailments.”  Well, if The Fever included an uncontrollable urge to protect a woman, then his brother most certainly had caught it. He could only hope Parker’s case was curable. Jonathan knew his own case wasn’t. Molly had infected him long ago and he knew he’d never get her out of his veins. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. His exploits of the female persuasion were legendary—so was the fact he refused to commit. “Are you stupid?” Lynn asked, giving Parker a good shove. At five-eight, she was tall by female standards but short compared the MacSweeny boys. Still, she managed to get Parker to budge ever so slightly, shocking Jonathan. “Move! They’ll gun you down to get to me.”  “Then so be it.”  Jonathan shook his head. Parker was bound to get himself killed without some serious intervention. “Parker, get her and your ass out of there. We’ll take care of our guests. We’ll even be sweet enough to give ‘em that welcome speech you had worked out.”  “Parker?” the girl asked. She glanced at Jonathan and Eli and her eyes widened. “That means one of you is Jonathan.” The feel of a cold, hard barrel pressed against the back of Jonathan’s head. Cursing himself for letting his guard down, he put his hands up as his attacker shoved harder with the gun.  “Lookie, boys, we got us a sheriff. He’s got to bring a good amount of coinage, don’t ya think?”  There was a flash of black. A blur. Several shots. Screams. Jonathan caught movement out of the corner of his eye and realized someone had shot the man who had him at gunpoint. Chapter Four Molly

Suze,” I said, “I’m a middle-aged man.” “I know,” Susan said. “I see it as a challenge.” We went into the bedroom and lay close in the bed, sipping the champagne and watching the late movie in the air-conditioned darkness. Life may be flawed but sometimes things are just right. The late movie was The Magnificent Seven. When Steve McQueen looked at Eli Wallach and said, “We deal in lead, friend,” I said it along with him.

You were made to take cock. I used to sit in class and dream about stuffing you so full you couldn’t live without it. I wanted you addicted to my cock.” “I was,” Cal said with a chuckle. “Not enough, you weren’t.” Eli shifted Cal’s wrists together so that he could imprison them with one hand, freeing his right one to grab Cal by the back of the thigh and crank his legs wide open. “I used to have this fantasy that you’d come knocking on my door in the middle of the night, and when my father answered, you’d just shove past him and barge into my room and beg for my cock. Then I’d fuck you, and you’d scream my name right there where he could hear you.” “Jesus,” Cal swore, breaking out in a sweat as the fantasy streaked across his feverish brain. “Is it too late to head over there?” Eli’s chuckle was sinister. “You aren’t going to be capable of walking when I’m done with you.

So... this is it?" Cal asked incredulously. "You want me to go?" "I never wanted you to go, Cal." Eli leaned across the seat, reaching across Cal's body to open the passenger door for him. "I'm just not trying to keep you anymore.

Eli…” Cal whispered, clutching the forearm banded around his chest. He clamped down hard on the pain in his leg, but every muscle in his body began to succumb to reaction and he started to shake. “What the fuck are you doing here?” “You ran again,” Eli said, framing Cal’s jaw in one large hand and angling his head so he could look him in the eye. “I decided to go after you this time.

Forever," he whispered, smiling into those deep, dark eyes. "I'll give you forever, Eli." Eli's smile was boyish. "That's all I ever wanted," he replied.

In Cal’s fantasies, he and Eli still shared a bond, but in reality they couldn’t be further removed from each other.

Eli was sin incarnate, living right under the nose of his pious father.

All things considered, Eli Jackson hadn’t changed much. He’d always had the square-jawed charisma of a leading man from the silver screen. His hair was dark and thick, with just a hint of wave that turned curly when wet, and his eyes were inky black. The lean, boyish frame of an eighteen-year-old had thickened into a broad frame and powerful shoulders.

Cal sighed and stacked his hands behind his head to stare at the stars. “But I’ve only ever been good at one thing. Rodeo is my shot. Without it, I’m nothing.” Eli looked at him over his shoulder. “You’re something to me.

Eli had never been a fan of the rodeo, but he’d pretended for Cal’s sake. He used to lay by the river on hot days, sifting his fingers through Cal’s hair and smiling faintly as Cal nattered on about his big dreams. Even then, Eli had seemed to know that those dreams would never include both of them. He’d never been starry-eyed like Cal had been; he was too practical for that. He’d only been two years older but a whole lifetime wiser.

Never do that again,” Eli whispered raggedly against his hair. “I love you too much to watch you kill yourself.

I believe that humans are imperfect beings, and God loves us in our imperfections. I don’t think He views my son loving a man as more sinful than the harm I’ve caused with my pride and arrogance. God loves Eli exactly as he is, and so do I.

I wasn’t necessary when I was seventeen, Eli. I’m sure as hell not necessary now. I already knew you and Faith didn’t need me; you’re both stronger than I could ever be. But you haunted me one way or another every waking minute since I left, and I couldn’t fucking take it anymore. Okay?

Cal had always trusted Eli—with his heart, his sister, his life—and that hadn’t changed. The man was a protector to his very core. He would never take chances with someone else’s health, not even Cal’s, not even when he resented him so much. He was frightening and intense, but simultaneously everything good and strong and true in the world.

Eli glanced at him with those deep black eyes of his, but his expression was unreadable. "I know you," he said simply. "The things that scare you are the things that you love the most.