“Christ.” Zane scrubbed one hand through his hair before turning to look down the dirt road that led up to the house and barns.
“You make me ride a horse, you get unbridled puns.”
“That’s clever, I approve.”
“Thank you.” Ty said. He realized Zane was distracted, though, so he shielded his eyes to look in the same direction.
Dust started billowing up the road. Zane turned his head toward the barn. “Dad, they’re here!” he yelled out as a truck drove into view, followed by two others.
“Who’s what now?” Ty asked.
“Dad told me while you were gone. He asked some of the family to go riding with us as well as some of the boys from the ranch.” He shifted his weight as the trucks parked around the front yard. It was a nervous habit he showed occasionally, and it made Ty anxious too.
“Who?”
“I’m not sure. If there are problems, I’ll let you know.”
“Yeah, send up a smoke signal.”
“Give me one of those cigars and I will.”
“You want one?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Ty patted his pockets like he was looking for another, then shook his head sadly. “Aw, I’m all out.”
“You’re an ass,” Zane whispered, though the words were uttered fondly.
Car doors opened and closed, and then several men ambled up to them, giving Zane hugs and handshakes.
“This is my partner, Ty Grady,” Zane said to the group of ranch hands and family. “I’m not even going to try to individually introduce you; you’ll have to do it yourselves.”
The others gave Ty sporadic greetings. He didn’t catch many of their names, but he saw Cody and Joe and nodded at them.
Ty caught wisps of the conversation as they asked Zane questions. He rubbed his fingers over his mouth, looking away so no one would notice him smiling. They were asking about research and desk work. These people had no idea who or what Zane was.
“C’mon, buddy,” Joe said as he broke away from the little group and came toward Ty, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “Let’s find us some horses.”
Ty muttered as he was dragged along.
“How long have you been with Z, Ty?” a ranch hand named Ronnie asked as they all walked toward the barn.
“Going on about nine or ten months now.”
“Well, you won’t know him much, then,” Ronnie said. “So we can tell you all the stories he wouldn’t want you to hear.”
Zane’s head snapped around. “Now, now, be nice.”
“Oh, yeah,” a man named Jamie said, thumping Zane’s right arm. Ty thought he’d heard that this was Zane’s only cousin. “We can share the dirt.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Ty said, voice flat. “My opinion of Zane can’t get much lower if he makes me ride a horse.”
Zane glared at him before turning to lead the way through the barn, where several horses were saddled and ready to go.
“’Bout time,” Harrison said. He and an older gentleman were already astride their horses.
“Sorry, Uncle Harrison, we were just getting reacquainted with Z,” Jamie said.
Ty gave them a distraught glance. “Is there anything I can do to get out of riding this animal?”
Harrison rode up beside him and clapped him on the back like he thought he was joking.
Zane peered at him over the back of one of the horses. “You’re the best tracker we have, Ty. We need you.”
Ty grunted and looked at the horse he’d be saddled with for the afternoon. It was a large bay gelding, which for Ty translated to “big-ass brown horse.” The horse eyed him back. They were heading out to the site of the shooting, hoping to find some clue as to what had happened. And Zane was right, as usual. They needed a tracker.
“What do you mean, he’s the best tracker?” Ronnie asked. “He’s a city boy, can’t even ride a horse.”
Zane shook his head, grinning. “You won’t be singing that same tune in a few hours. Ty can track anything, anywhere.”
Ty couldn’t help but smile. The pride in Zane’s voice filled him with emotions he didn’t normally allow himself to linger on for fear of growing overly cocky.
“Isn’t there access from the road?” Ty asked in a last-ditch effort to save his ass.
“This way’s cleaner on the crime scene.”
“Dammit.”
Zane chuckled.
“You sure you’re not going to break that horse, Garrett?” Ty asked his evil partner. They were large horses, obviously good stock, but Ty couldn’t imagine anything but an elephant carrying a man of Zane’s size over long distances without just snapping in two. Zane was 6’5”, 225 pounds. Ty almost felt sorry for his horse.
Zane grinned, and his answer was pitched low. “He’s a big boy, he can take it. Can you?”
Ty clucked his tongue and narrowed his eyes, trying to decide if Zane was propositioning him or insulting him. Possibly both.
Annie and Mark joined them as they were checking their supplies. They formed a formidable group: ten riders, all well-armed. The others mounted around them, but Zane held back as the rest moved away from the stables.
“You okay to mount?” he asked Ty.
“Next time you ask me that, you better be naked.” Ty gripped the pommel of the saddle with his good hand and pulled himself up in the stirrup. The animal took a few steps to the side, and Ty cussed as he held on for dear life. As soon as he was able, he pulled himself into the saddle and wrapped the reins around his palm, then slid his cast between the buttons of his shirt to keep himself from trying to use his broken hand.
He looked down at Zane and shook his head. “I want you to put ‘He didn’t want to ride the damn horse’ on my tombstone.”
“Noted,” Zane said with a grin. “You did okay.”
Ty nodded. He and his family had sometimes ridden horses along the mountain trails back home when he’d been younger. He’d been shitty at it then, too. He just hated them. Hated them as much as they hated him. And horses meant for mountain trails were small and hardy, easier to handle. Nothing like these monsters. These were American Quarter Horses, strong and stocky, built for working on ranches. This one was about sixty-four inches at his withers, where the neck met the back.
Ty looked down at the ground. “It’s getting off the damn thing that might get interesting.”