“Shut up,” Ty muttered. “And FYI, Deliverance took place in Georgia. In West Virginia we kiss our cousins.”
Zane laughed softly. Soon they were out of the city, climbing even further up into the mountains. He had to yawn a couple times to pop his ears again.
Another five minutes and they were turning off the paved two-lane and heading up a winding dirt road. Ty was getting more and more fidgety, shifting in his seat as he put the Bronco through its paces. Just when it looked like the road might be tapering off into rugged wilderness, Ty turned onto a narrow gravel drive that seemed to go straight up into the heart of a mountain. He glanced at Zane again and smiled. “You can get a car up here, but you better hope the weather sticks.” Then he frowned and slowed the truck further. “Here we go,” he murmured as they topped the steep incline and a house came into view.
Zane’s lips compressed. Ty was still edgy, and it was getting to him. He leaned forward to look out the windshield at what awaited them.
The house was a classic old farmhouse, but well-kept, with a stone foundation, white siding, dormer windows on the second story, bright red shutters, and a matching tin roof. A porch wrapped around the entire front and side of the house, complete with an array of old rocking chairs and oversized stairs leading up to the front door. The outbuildings were in worse shape, the paint peeling slightly on the clapboard frames; some of them tilted precariously. Several of them were nothing but cedar beams and tin, while a few were cinderblock and much sturdier.
In the gravel driveway were four other vehicles: a crew cab Ford F-150, a Chevy Blazer, an old Ford Ranger, and a brand new black Lexus coupe. Ty parked beside the Lexus and cocked his head, peering at it curiously.
A man drew Zane’s attention when he came out onto the porch, pushing through the screen door and shielding his eyes as he stepped into the morning sun. He was young, much too young to be Ty’s father. He still bore a striking resemblance to Ty, though his hair was a little longer and lighter, and he was taller and thinner. He had to be Ty’s brother. The man thumped down the stairs, walking with a pronounced limp, and Ty opened up his door and slid out of the Bronco as he came closer.
Taking his cue from Ty, Zane got out as well but stood just inside the door as he looked around at the towering trees that surrounded them. He tore his eyes away from them to watch Ty approach the house. He felt like he should hang back for now, at least until after the reunion.
Ty grinned as he and his brother embraced. He gave the man an affectionate pat on his cheek and then turned and gestured for Zane to come closer.
“’Bout time y’all got here,” Ty’s brother said to them.
“Shut up,” Ty grunted at him. “Zane, this is my brother, Deacon,” he said with a wave of his hand at his brother. “This is Zane Garrett.”
“Special Agent Zane Garrett, I assume,” Deacon said with emphasis as he stepped forward and took Zane’s hand, pumping it hard. His voice wasn’t as deep as Ty’s, but it still had that gravelly, drawling quality to it that Zane liked. “You can call me Deuce.”
“Okay, Deuce,” Zane agreed. He liked him already; he seemed like a friendlier version of Ty. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Deuce drawled, grinning. “Come on in,” he invited as he turned and threw his arm around Ty’s shoulders. “Mom’s fluttering,” he said to his brother, trying unsuccessfully not to laugh.
“As long as she’s cooking while she’s doing it,” Ty muttered. “I’m starving. Did you get a new car again?”
“You like it?” Deuce asked.
“No,” Ty answered candidly with a shake of his head and a glance back at the Lexus.
“It has Bluetooth,” Deuce answered with a grin, unperturbed. Ty groaned and shook his head.
Zane walked up the steps behind them, rubbing his hands together to ward off the slight morning chill. He’d pulled the jacket off when they’d gotten in the truck at the last rest stop. He’d known it would be cooler up here, but it had to be a good twenty degrees cooler here than in DC. He spared another look around and shook his head. It was so totally different from any other place he’d been—Washington, LA, Baltimore, New York. Texas. Especially Miami.
Ty stopped at the door and looked back at him. “Welcome to West Virginia,” he murmured as he held the screen door open. The smell of frying bacon and fresh bread wafted out to them.
Zane nodded and followed Ty inside, where it was quite a bit warmer, and the smell of the bread made his stomach growl. “Oh Lord. Fresh-baked bread.”
Ty sniffed at the air as he tromped through the house toward the back, where the dining room opened up into a large kitchen. “Morning,” he greeted as he stepped into the kitchen.
The woman at the stove turned and smiled widely. Ty went over to her and hugged her close, kissing her on the cheek as she patted his back without letting go of the spatula in her hand. She was a tall woman, the top of her head hitting past Ty’s broad shoulders, and her round face was almost devoid of wrinkles until she smiled. Her graying hair had once been the same color as Ty’s, and her eyes were a bright, striking green.
She stepped back from Ty and took his face in her hands, the spatula smacking against his temple. “’Bout time you got here,” she said to him. She looked over Ty’s shoulder at Zane and smiled again. “You must be Zane,” she said as she unceremoniously pushed Ty aside. She went up to Zane and pulled him into a hug as well, just like he was another son she hadn’t seen in some time.
Zane’s eyes widened in surprise, and after a beat he halfway closed his arms around her, not sure what to do. “Uh. Hi,” he said weakly, patting her shoulder gently.
“Zane Garrett, Mara Grady,” Ty introduced with a smirk as he met Zane’s eyes.
“Nice to meet you,” Zane said as she patted his back, oblivious to his discomfort. Then she turned away and bopped Ty in the head with her spatula.
“Ow!” Ty protested with a surprised laugh.
“Shoulda been home months ago,” she scolded. “Sit down, Zane dear, breakfast is almost ready,” she said in a much sweeter voice.
Zane swallowed a laugh, although he didn’t even try to hide his smile. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, pulling out a chair on the far side of the table next to the wall so he’d be out of the way.
Ty sat down opposite him, grumbling. “You got bacon grease in my hair,” he said to his mother as he rubbed at his head.