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Of course, he hadn’t had time to even think about breaking that truce for a very long time. Much of that time had been spent in trying to wrap his young mind around the idea of death really being forever. That it wasn’t all a mistake, that Dad wouldn’t be coming home, ever. Of watching his mother, his ever-strong, ever-resilient mother actually break, for the first and only time in his life.
Before he could get lost in those memories, something on the screen snapped him out of it. Not just that she was much closer, but she’d moved a certain way as Ghost loped along, just a tilt of her head. As if she’d seen or heard something. He reached for the controller in the same moment Roth also reached down for something, pulled something clear of her saddle.
Cody hit the control to veer the drone to the right.
Roth shot it out of the sky.
Chapter Two
Britt was relatively pleased with how that had gone. Ghost—Roth’s Gray Ghost officially, and never had a horse been better named, her being spooky as a ghost—had stayed calm enough at the discharge of the shotgun, thanks to the practice sessions at the other end of the ranch. And watching that pestilential gadget hit the ground in pieces was worth the small dance the mare had done, since she’d been prepared and in no danger of coming off.
Take that, Cody the Coder.
She sheathed the shotgun neatly in the scabbard she’d hung on her saddle this morning for this very reason, rode over to the debris, and dismounted. She ground-tied Ghost, although she’d be keeping a careful eye on her since the mare was very good at forgetting she was supposed to stay put when those reins came over her head and hit the ground. One of the things she was still working on, along with the ridiculous jumpiness she hoped to at least calm a little by exposing the horse to everything she could think of.
Britt stood looking at what was left of the little spy machine. She considered just tossing the pieces back over onto Rafferty property, but some innocent critter might get hurt on one of the shards. Maybe she should go present it to him in person. That would be fun. Then again, if she just waited right here, he’d probably show up; she had little doubt he’d seen what had happened, techie snoop that he was.
Her best friend, roommate, and fellow barrel racer from college, Jennifer Sawyer, had asked her once if knowing that Cody Rafferty was sort of spying on her creeped her out. She’d laughed. “He just does it to irritate me. Then I do something to irritate him. It’s all part of keeping the world in balance.”
“You are both very weird, you know that?” Jen had said. “Pretty, but weird.”
“My mom says it’s because we were born on the same day, almost at the same time. But,” she’d added, her tone sour, “I owe him and his danged toy. Darn it.”
“You mean because of Ghost?” She’d nodded. “You ever tell him that?”
“Once.” Her mouth had quirked. “That was all I could stomach.”
Jen had laughed at that. “Only you, Britt. Any other girl would be drooling over the guy.”
“I’ve never denied he’s pretty,” she’d said, the memory of a day in middle school when she’d started a discussion about it, audible to everyone around, especially the wary techies he was trying to join, making her smile.
“You know,” Jen had said, “you two are quite striking together, him so blond and your hair so dark, his green eyes and your blue.”
“Together? Wash your mouth out, girl!” They’d laughed, because Jen had been teasing her and they both knew it.
She left the pieces of the dead drone where they were, and remounted Ghost. She’d brought her here at a pretty brisk pace, and it was warm this Texas pre-spring day, so the horse was a bit sweaty. She’d walk her around until she’d cooled out a little, and if the Coder showed up during that time fine. If he didn’t, maybe she’d just bury the thing and head home.
She wondered rather idly what he’d do if she denied all knowledge. Without the pieces of his precious man-made mosquito, what could he prove? Of course, knowing him—one should always know the enemy—he probably had a recording of the feed from his flying beast.
The flying beast that saved Ghost.
Well, not this exact one. Cody discarded old tech as fast as new came along, so this was probably five or so versions newer than the one that had found Cleo, Ghost’s dam, in trouble that nasty winter day. The heavily pregnant mare had been down and hurt, and it was entirely possible neither she nor her foal would have survived had they spent the frozen night out there.
Not wanting to linger on the unpleasant memory, she switched to wondering how he afforded all his toys. She knew he built custom computer systems for people, but did that really make that much money? She herself had a laptop, although she preferred her phone. Her father had only a phone, while her mother had a desktop she used to manage the ranch books. But the gadgets didn’t run their lives. At least, not the way they ran Cody Rafferty’s.
She waited, walking Ghost slowly as her mind ran once more through all the preparation she had yet to make before heading out for the rodeo season in a couple of weeks. She had her own plan and had spent a lot of the winter as she always did, working out her personal circuit. She loved it when she was able to time being in Ft. Worth near her aunt Naomi’s birthday, and in Oklahoma City for Jen’s.
Then came the two most personally important events to her. First, coming back to the Last Stand Fourth of July rodeo, where she’d gotten her real start by winning the town scholarship in high school, and later launched her pro career. Second, she always made sure she was in College Station for the annual All Aggie Alumni Rodeo in September. It was great to see old friends, and she wasn’t too proud to admit that having them gush about her success was good for her ego. But she also knew better than to let it carry her away. And if she ever forgot, Ghost here wasn’t afraid to remind her that better riders than she were tossable.
She was just about ready to give up the wait when the gray’s head came up, swiveling to the right, ears pointed that way. She reined the antsy mare to a stop and looked. And a minute or so later a smooth-moving bay horse crested a hill on the Rafferty side. Trey. That made her smile. At the horse, not the rider.
The youngest Rafferty rode, bareback, with the ease of someone who had grown up doing it. But as his own mother said, sometimes he got distracted by what he was thinking instead of focusing on what he was doing. She knew Cody’s brothers ragged a lot on him because the bay was so smart he kept Cody out of trouble. The clever animal had a way of looking at him that even Cody had learned meant he should probably think twice about what he was doing.
But right now, he seemed pretty darn focused on getting here in a hurry. A big hurry. Which pretty much answered the question of whether he’d seen or not. He had. A grin curved her mouth.
This should definitely be fun.
She thought about staying mounted on Ghost for the height and quick departure advantage but didn’t want her adversary to think she was ready to run scared. So with the horse cooled out now she slid off, and just so she didn’t have to think about it looped the reins over a piece of low scrub. That slight tug back should keep the sometimes—okay, often—skittish mare anchored better than a simple ground tie.
