An SUV pulled up in the small parking area.
“Maybe they were scared off.” Nate squinted into the sun. “It’s a man and woman with three kids.”
Adam started to stand, but Nate pushed him back down. Adam fought him off and stood. “Those kids are making enough noise to scare the animals at Yellowstone.”
“Shit, you’re bleeding more than I thought.”
Adam scowled at the blood trickling down his arm and looked away. As a matter of principle, he tried not to think too much about the color and scent of his blood. Sometimes the sight made him woozy, and the last thing he wanted to do was faint. Before he could steel himself to investigate his wound, Nate pushed his hand away. “Let me.”
Nate cared. Adam could see it in the wrinkle of his brow and the unguarded expression in his eyes. It made him want to smile, to tease, and it definitely took his mind off the bright red of the blood.
“Does it hurt?”
“A bit,” Adam said. “It’s bearable.”
Nate inspected it again. “It’s just a graze.” He dragged his tank top over his head and ripped it up. “Not exactly hygienic, but we need to stop your bleeding.” He pressed one piece against the wound and wrapped a second piece around, tying it in place. “I don’t think you’ll need a doctor, as long as it doesn’t get infected. We can clean it up properly when we get to the motel.”
“Assuming I can run back.”
“Aw, hell. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll run back and grab a vehicle.”
Adam laughed out loud this time. “I’m fine. It stings a bit. That’s all. I can run. I’m not going to be late to rehearsal and have the guys rib me. Besides, I’m not sure I can afford to pay the beer and pizza fine for being late. We run.”
“And what if the gunman is still around?”
“If he is, he’d be stupid. There’s another car full of kids. It’s not exactly quiet now. Besides, the deer have disappeared. His was probably the vehicle we heard leaving in a hurry. We should report it, though. Someone might get really hurt next time.”
Nate stood and scanned their surroundings. “I can’t see any bullets.”
“The bullets could have gone anywhere. I didn’t even see which direction the shots came from.”
“Are you sure you’re up to running back?”
“I don’t need a nursemaid. That’s not what I’m looking for from you.”
Instantly, awareness surged between them. Nate avoided his gaze, and Adam smirked. Ripe for the picking. Nate belonged to him. The man just didn’t realize it yet.
“You’re late,” Cade said when Adam and Nate walked into the pub they were playing the following night.
“We had to stop in to see the sheriff.” Nate’s breath eased out only when he realized none of the men were treating him any differently from normal. “Adam and I went for a run out to the reservoir and someone shot at us.”
“And we had to doctor my arm. The idiot almost got me good,” Adam said, indicating the snowy bandage on his right arm.
As a distraction, it was a pretty good one. Nate didn’t think any of their friends would suspect the pair of them had been in a lip-lock seconds before the hunter shot at them.
Chapter Three
Adam pulled out his guitar, falling into rehearsal mode with Cade, J.T. and Morgan. Soon, music filled the room. Nate listened for a while before joining Keith. They hauled equipment from the van into the pub, storing it for the following night in a secure room, sorted out lighting and went through their usual before-show routine, discussing security and potential problems.
Nate moved on autopilot, his mind drifting back to kissing Adam. He wanted to tell himself he’d hated Adam touching him, but that would be a big fat lie.
So what did this mean?
Man, he couldn’t imagine a relationship with Adam going over well with his parents and two older brothers. A relationship with any man. Nate took off his hat and dragged a hand through his hair before settling the black Stetson back on his head. Nah, there were too many potential problems if he let things with Adam progress further. Eventually, he wanted children. Besides, he liked women. Their softness. The way they laughed. The way they smelled so fine. A small, traitorous voice in his head reminded him Adam had felt good in his arms.
Different. Nate’s shoulders slumped as he admitted the truth. Not bad…different. Different wasn’t bad. Nate squashed the furtive thought immediately.
Adam…
Nate spat out a curse, cringing inwardly because he knew if Rosa were watching from heaven she’d make an annoying tsking sound at the back of her throat. As the thought occurred, he realized with embarrassment that if Rosa had heard his curse, she’d probably seen him with Adam. That settled it.
He would not mess around with Adam again.
He’d missed. Justin blinked, recalling the moment of pulling the trigger, the pressure of his finger against the unforgiving metal. The moment of doubt and denial. Guilt. His hand had trembled, and he’d missed. The second shot had gone wild too.
Then he’d heard a vehicle approaching. He’d risked a third shot and run for his SUV, driving away from the reserve at a reasonable speed when every instinct had screamed in panic, telling him to floor the accelerator.
He hadn’t thought it would be so hard to pull the trigger, to fire a bullet into his brother. A keen hunter, he’d always managed to land his prey. He’d tried to think of Adam as prey. It hadn’t worked.
Justin paced, his dark hair swinging around his face. He swiped at it impatiently before striding to the bathroom of the motel room and grabbing his brush. With practiced ease, he dragged the bristles through his hair and tied it back with a leather strap.
He’d learned something about himself today. A conscience. He still had one. He supposed the knowledge should make him feel better. It didn’t. Instead, a sick, almost desperate sensation squirmed through the pit of his stomach. It was too late for scruples.
Move on to the next plan.
He couldn’t afford to let Adam live. The alternative…
No! Justin shivered and reached for the prepaid phone he’d purchased the previous day. Onward and upward. Adam would die, and Justin’s life would revert to normal without this specter hanging over him, because without the Kokopelli mantle he was nothing. An unemployed has-been. He winced as possible consequences slapped him in the face. Lara would walk. A harsh intake of breath cut through the silence, along with a slice of fear.
He couldn’t let that happen.
“Welcome to the Cody Nite Rodeo!”
Adam hooted and whistled along with the rest of the band. The entire crew had come to the rodeo tonight, including Nate. Glancing along the row where he and the rest of the band sat, Adam looked at Nate. His ever-present Stetson shaded his face and kept Adam from seeing his expression. The man was avoiding him and had purposely sat miles away from him with Cade, J.T., Keith and Morgan separating them. Adam grinned, knowing he would have misbehaved. He wouldn’t have been able to resist touching and teasing Nate, so it was a wise move on Nate’s part.
Music blared from the loudspeakers, dragging his attention from Nate. Horses and riders tore around the ring, bearing flags from the countries involved in rodeo. The flags fluttered and snapped in the breeze, streaming behind them, their appearance heightening the crowd’s anticipation for the events to come.
Adam settled back to enjoy the show. Nate would keep. At least the man had attended the rodeo. He could have excused himself and done his own thing.
The first bareback rider catapulted from the chutes on a horse called Hellfire. Two seconds later, rider and horse parted company, the crowd erupting with cheers and sympathy when the rider rose slowly to his feet and hobbled away.
“Man, that must have hurt,” Morgan said.
Cade chuckled, shaking his head. “Rather him than me.”
“I used to ride the horses when I was younger and stupid,” J.T. commented.
Morgan smirked. “You’re still stupid.”
J.
T. lifted a finger in a rude salute while the rest of the band chortled.
Adam grinned openly. “I used to ride bulls. I was also younger. Never stupid, though. I stopped riding, didn’t I?”
“Did you fall on your head?” Keith asked.
“Broke my leg,” Adam said. “That was when the stupid part of me escaped, and I concentrated on guitar and started writing songs. And I met Cade, who talked me into joining his band.”
“Huh, he fell on his head,” Cade said. “He turned down a date with that chick last night, the one who said she was Miss Rodeo Wyoming.”
“She only wanted me for my body.” Adam shrugged without apology. “Who wants to end up as a notch on some woman’s bedpost? I like to do my own picking.”
“And he’s fussy about it,” Nate said, his eyes glittering with challenge as he glanced down the row. “He hardly ever dates.”
Adam winked at Nate and took pleasure in the other man’s startled expression, the way he turned away to study the arena. They both knew why he didn’t date women. Nate knew who he wanted in his bed, and that was enough for Adam. The next move was up to Nate.
“You turned her down? Man, Adam, that babe was stacked. She can have my body any time,” Cade said.
Adam shook his head in mock sorrow. “Easy. You’re so easy it’s scary.”
“Nate’s right. You hardly ever go out,” Morgan said. “The babes throw themselves at you at every gig.”
“Nah, it’s the panties they throw,” Adam said. “I go on dates. I like to keep that part of my life private.”
Nate shot him a defiant look. “Have you got a secret lover, Adam?”
J.T. slapped Nate across the back, chuckling while watching another cowboy part company from his horse. “Good one, mate. That’s what I want to know.”
Adam scowled. “None of your business.”
“Check out his expression,” Cade said, laughing, and they all studied him, curiosity burning their faces.
“Anyone want a beer?” Adam asked.
A horse burst from the chutes, bucking and twisting, with the cowboy raking his spurs yet clinging at the same time. The buzzer went eight long seconds later, and the pickup riders galloped after the bronco, then dragged the cowboy off to safety.
“That’s the first clear ride of the night for Austin Maxwell,” the announcer called over the loudspeakers. Music blared and the crowd applauded.
Adam stood. “Beer?” he asked again.
“I’ll help,” Cade said, following him when everyone said they wanted one.
They fell into step after clearing the stands, making their way around the back to where one of the sponsors had set up shop.
“Do you have someone?” Cade asked, serious now that he was away from the rest of the band.
Adam thought about Nate. “Yes,” he said. “There’s someone.”
“Someone at home?”
Adam shrugged, hoping Cade would make his own assumptions. He would never out Nate like that or open him to ridicule. Part of him even understood why Nate was being so confrontational tonight. A slow smile bloomed inside, curling his lips upward. He had Nate running scared. The knowledge made him think of all kinds of decadent pleasures, things he could experience with Nate.
“It’s hard being on the road,” Cade said. “I couldn’t do a long-distance relationship.”
“I’ll take six beers,” Adam said to the guy behind the bar. He pulled out his wallet and handed over several notes.
Someone crowded them from behind, pushing to get to the counter.
“Back off,” Cade growled, glaring at the three men standing behind them.
Adam turned, nailing them with a hard look. Neither he nor Cade was a small man, but the three idiots glowered back and muttered a string of curses.
“Hey, we don’t want any problems here,” the guy behind the bar said.
“Let’s go,” Cade said, picking up a tray of beers. “I’ve no idea what put a bug up their asses.”
They arrived back at the stands without trouble, although Adam’s gut rumbled with warning, and he kept glancing over his shoulder. He trusted his instincts. Always had, which was why he was paying attention to the prickle at the back of his neck now.
The rodeo program ran smoothly, progressing through the calf roping, the barrel racing and the antics of the clowns or bullfighters, the title they preferred these days. The final event on the program was the bull riding.
Adam watched closely, his past experience allowing him to study the rides and judge where the cowboys came unglued. It was usually their failure to compensate for a change of direction in spin from the bull, loss of focus or incorrect positioning that sent them hurtling to the ground.
“Here comes Tad Green riding Big Bad Brown.” The announcer ran through the bull’s stats and Tad’s riding percentage. “This bull has only been ridden once. He has a ninety-five percent buck-off rate.”
The bull jumped from the chute when the gate opened, skipping once before settling into a clockwise spin. Adam held his breath, almost feeling the pull of gravity on his body, the jerky whiplash firing up his spine. The bull straightened, then whipped into a spin in the opposite direction, taking the cowboy by surprise. He flew through the air and hit the ground with a jolt. Adam winced, heard the hiss of breath through Cade’s teeth. The two bullfighters stepped in, diverting the bull’s attention from the fallen cowboy. The man scrambled to his feet and retrieved his hat and bull rope before leaving the ring to the applause of the crowd.
“No ride for Tad Green,” the announcer said.
“Mad,” Cade said.
Adam grinned. “Don’t you know cowboys score?”
“Is that why you rode bulls?”
“Yep.” Although he scored with other cowboys, not that he intended to introduce this little snippet to the conversation. He had fond memories of his first lover—a guy who rode saddle broncs and roped on the side. Adam had heard he’d retired to run a successful ranch in Missouri.
The bull riding event progressed quickly and, half an hour later, the crowd around them started to leave the stands.
“Anyone for a drink in town?” J.T. asked.
Adam shook his head. “Nah, I’m beat and my arm is throbbing a bit. I’m going to walk back to the motel.”
“I have another date,” Cade said with a smirk. “I’ll walk back with you. I want to change before I head out. Don’t expect me until late morning.”
“One word for you,” Morgan said. “Condoms.”
“Don’t worry. My little soldiers are well trained. They don’t venture places they shouldn’t.”
“Hell,” Adam said, clapping his hands over his ears. “I don’t wanna hear that stuff. Puts all sorts of visions in my head.”
J.T. laughed. “Cade, that’s good to hear. We won’t have to worry about any shotgun-toting fathers chasing us at our gigs.”
They stood and moved with the crowd to the exit.
“Are you guys sure you wanna walk?” J.T. asked.
“It’s not far,” Cade said, striding in the direction of the path that led from the rodeo grounds to the motels and businesses farther down the road.
Adam followed Cade with a wave at the others. By the time they organized themselves and climbed in the van plus fought the traffic streaming from the grounds, he and Cade would be halfway back to the motel.
They walked along the gravel path, leaving the bustle of the rodeo behind. The path ran along the edge of a reserve and, once they left the floodlit area, Adam’s night vision kicked in.
“Damn, it’s dark out here,” Cade muttered. “Spooky.”
Adam noticed he glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the rodeo grounds a couple of times with a frown.
“Did you hear that?”
“Someone else is walking behind us,” Adam said, keeping his voice matter-of-fact even though his gut jumped with a preternatural awareness. He upped his pace, lengthening his strides, scowling at the rapid footsteps echoing behi
nd.
Without further warning, the same men who’d hassled them at the beer stand rushed from the darkness.
Cade groaned. “Aw, crap. If they hurt my hands and I can’t play, I’m gonna be really pissed.”
But the men headed straight for him, ignoring Cade. Adam blocked the first punch, but with three men attacking him, it wasn’t long before one connected. The air whooshed from his lungs. Damn, that hurt. He staggered, another punch striking his upper chest, knocking him two steps back. Gasping for breath, he shook his head to clear it, wincing at the echo of pain in his ribs.
Cade waded in and grabbed one attacker, tossing him aside. The man sprang to his feet with a snarl and charged, kicking out at Adam’s feet.
“I’ll give you my wallet,” Adam gasped, barely missing a fall. “Just back the hell up and I’ll get it for you.”
One of the attackers sneered. “We don’t want your money.”
“What do you want?” Cade paused before he let rip with a series of punches in one of the attacker’s faces. “Aw, damn.” He moaned and held his head when a fist clipped him. “That hurt.”
Running footsteps sounded behind. Hell! Not good. Three against two wasn’t bad. Four against two wouldn’t work. Adam dodged a blow and risked a glance into the darkness. Nate!
“Good timing.” Adam jerked to the left. He picked a man and started punching, wincing at the thud of fist against flesh. He hoped he didn’t make too much of a mess of his hands.
Nate threw himself into the brawl, dispersing one attacker with ease. He approached Adam and a second attacker, determination written on his face.
Three of them evened the odds. The attackers fell back. One scrambled away, fading into the darkness. The other two, outnumbered now, tried to escape.
“Running away?” Adam taunted. Sweet Jesus, his arm ached.
Nate grabbed one of the remaining men and twisted his right arm behind his back. “What do you want?”
“Nothing.”
Nate’s mouth curled up, his face hard and implacable, a fact Adam noted even in the dim light. “What do you want?” he repeated.
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