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He cut her off. “Your father deserves to know I got your brother killed.”
She sucked in a sharp gasp. The sound doubled his awareness of just how close she still stood. As if she refused to back off, no matter what terrible things he told her.
He twisted away from her and continued toward the barn doors thrown wide open only steps away. A few flies buzzed. The scent of hay sitting in the sun, gently reeking, filled his nose.
As he reached the opening, a man stepped out. Tall, muscular but lean. His light brown hair was threaded with silver, but his Stetson covered most of it.
If Forest were allowed to reach this man’s age, he would have looked like him.
The man wiped his hands on a faded old rag. Under his cowboy hat, his eyes were faded too—dimmed by the pain of life.
Colton had seen it before. Hell, he sometimes saw it reflected in the mirror right before he shoved away the memory of what happened back in that goddamn desert.
Sean Gracey, owner of the ranch, and Forest’s father, gave him a once-over. “You must be the new ranch hand.”
“Yes, sir.” He wasn’t so long out of the military that he didn’t remember to show respect.
“What’s your name again?”
“Nox. Colton Nox.”
“Well, Nox, what makes you think you have what it takes to work on the Gracey?”
“Your son said so.”
A weighty silence hung between them, a fog of loaded words that went unspoken. “What happened to my son?”
Colton held his gaze. “I got him killed.”
“Jesus Christ!” The soft blasphemy exploded from Meadow, who stood off to the side, watching the exchange.
Gracey’s jaw shifted. The crease bulged, and his fists curled. When he spoke, the words blazed with barely harnessed fury. “What the hell are you doing on my land?”
Colton raised his jaw. “Forest and I had an agreement. If one of us didn’t make it out, the other would see to it that our family didn’t lose their livelihood. So I’m here. I’m here to work.”
The flies seemed to buzz louder. Colton swore he could even hear the sun beating down on the land. And Meadow was right—it was hot. He needed to get himself a hat if he was going to work outdoors.
Assuming that Gracey didn’t throw him off the ranch that had been in his family for three generations.
For an excruciating heartbeat, Forest’s father sized him up. This could go either way—and Colton knew it.
Finally, he nodded. When he twitched his head for Colton to follow, he did.
He led him through the barn, past empty stalls, to a side door leading into the corral. “You ever see a horse before?”
“Couple times.”
“Well, each of these horses are worth more than your life.”
The harsh, blunt words made Colton shoot a glance at Meadow, who’d trailed along on this tour. Now he could see what Forest meant by his dad and sister being cut from the same bolt of cloth.
There was an even younger sister as well. After Forest’s death, she took off to backpack Europe. Colton didn’t know much about her—Forest’s biggest concern was for Meadow.
He wasn’t here to impress her or her father. He was here to fulfill a promise to his best friend.
Without another word about the horses, Gracey walked back out. Colton trailed a step behind, with Meadow on his right. Having her with him made him feel a little more sure of his reasons for coming, but he didn’t want her around at all.
Not when those tanned legs were a mile long and he wanted to throw her boots over his shoulders while pounding into her.
