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Colton grunted. “I figured as much. Go on and join him. I’ll make sure everything’s clear around here and join you all later.”
Marks had a few years on Colton, but his level of respect was clear. “Sounds good, boss. See ya there.”
The constant mountain breeze that swayed the trees on the land died down for a moment, leaving silence. The low strains of a guitar being plucked reached them.
“Sounds like Webb’s already on the strings. I’ll grab the beer.” Marks walked off, leaving Hunter alone with Colton.
Hunter twitched his head at him. “Let’s talk.”
Colton moved toward the porch of the big house. The caution he used as he prowled around told Hunter that his friend trusted nothing and no one. Things hadn’t changed on that front.
He leaned against the heavy wood post supporting the porch. “What happened back there with Ivy?”
Hunter scrubbed a knuckle over his upper lip. “Guy wouldn’t keep his hands off her.”
Colton’s lips twisted. “Sounds familiar.”
He battled with himself. Telling his friend—who was so close to Ivy’s own sister—that he’d swatted the woman on the ass out of sheer frustration seemed like a bad idea. The last thing he wanted was Colton to think he’d lost his ability to control himself.
“Sounds like you knew when it was time to get her out of there. I can’t blame you, man. But did you get to talk to a single person?”
He shook his head. His purpose in going to Badlands tonight was to listen and learn. People talked when alcohol was involved, but he hadn’t even overheard a single conversation. He could blame it all on Ivy, but he should have been in control of himself at all times.
“Let’s have a quick look around. Then you can head to your bunk.”
“But you’re not turning in yet.”
Colton shook his head. “I’m not jetlagged. You’ve been awake a long time, man.”
He sent a look at the house, thinking that Ivy didn’t seem a bit affected by her lack of sleep either. And she’d only dozed on the plane.
He shook his head. “I’m not that tired. I’ll join you at the fire if that’s where you’re headed.”
After a quick check of the cameras set on the perimeter of the house and ranch, he and Colton strolled behind the cluster of outbuildings to the bonfire.
In the golden glow from the leaping flames, he made out the guys all seated in lawn chairs. At their approach, Marks looked up with a smile and nod. He’d obviously gotten into the cooler of beer next to him. He already had an empty one on the ground at his feet and a second in his hand.
“Have a beer,” Colton said as Hunter took up a vacant seat.
Hunter settled in the chair, his gaze moving over the faces of the men seated around the fire. With one look, he picked up on the tight bonds between these men. Having one of their own missing had to wear on them. The fact that they hid it so well, disguised it behind hard masks, was so like what Hunter and Colton knew as SEALs.
Flashes of memory hit his brain, one after another. The bombardment went on for several long minutes as he stared at the flickering fire and the white wisps of smoke rolling toward the star-specked sky.
Fuck. After every op, he and his buddies would sit and talk just like this. Laugh and joke with each other—but it always covered up the horrors they’d seen and done in the name of their country.
These humble cowboys sitting around talking, while Webb plucked the guitar strings, carefully avoided the glaring danger they now stared in the eye.
They were protecting the ranch. Protecting the sisters who would someday inherit it from their father, who they suspected had started the trouble to begin with.
And they were all avoiding thoughts of the missing man.
Hunter pushed to his feet and took off walking. He had to get out of here, away from the light that could reveal the dark expression he must wear—that mirrored his dark thoughts.
He crossed the field to the line of fence and braced a hand on the coarse rail.
When he came to Montana, he had no intention of getting so involved with the Gracey family. Forest was one of his best friends. His brother-in-arms had shared a lot of his personal stories with Hunter—enough that he understood what lines Forest would consider crossed.
He crossed one with Ivy.
