by Abigail Roux
An hour after hitting Austin, they were stopped at the front gate of the Carter Garrett Ranch. Zane got out and opened it, holding it for both cars to drive through before swinging it shut and latching it. He jogged toward the Mustang and hopped back in, and Ty continued on toward the main house.
He was surprised to see how different the ranch looked from the last time they’d visited. A few of the buildings that had caught fire had been rebuilt. New fences stretched as far as the eye could see. Even the main house had some additions: repairs from the attack it had suffered several years ago.
Ty wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Of course they’d rebuilt the place. He got out of the Mustang, stretching. Nick was still asleep in the back, and Ty left him to rest.
The chase car turned off, the engine clicking in the peaceful silence of the ranch. Then both of the driver’s side doors popped open and Kelly lunged out of the car, grabbed Liam through the open window of the door between them, and punched him in the face. The only reason Kelly didn’t go after him again was because he got caught in the window.
Ty and Zane stood side by side, watching as the others tumbled out of the vehicle to break up the fight.
Ty finally shrugged at Zane. “I don’t want to know,” he grunted, and they turned in unison toward the front porch.
Harrison met them on the porch, a tired smile hidden halfway under his handlebar mustache. He gave them each a hug, patting them both on the back and then the head like he was making sure they were really there.
“Hey, Dad,” Zane said.
“You okay?” Harrison asked, pointing to the hand Zane had in its makeshift cast.
Zane nodded. “It’ll be fine.”
“Sir, are my parents here?” Ty asked.
Harrison nodded. “Got in two days ago. They’re settling in. Got them staying in the house instead of the guesthouse, reckoned it was best to have everyone close.”
Ty breathed a sigh of relief.
A moment later, Zane’s mother stepped into the doorway. She looked frailer than Ty remembered. He nodded to her as Zane said a stiff hello. Beverly held her chin high for a moment, then brushed past Harrison and pulled Zane into an awkward, clumsy hug.
Ty gaped, and Harrison stepped closer to him, smiling as Zane tried to figure out what to do.
“Your mama and my wife have spent the last few days discussing things,” Harrison told Ty under his breath. “Been real . . . enlightening.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s the plan?” Harrison asked when it appeared that Beverly didn’t intend to let Zane go.
Ty glanced over his shoulder at the others. They were all loitering by the car, watching. Nick had roused and somehow dragged himself out of the back of the Mustang to lean against the hood, his head hanging.
“We’ve got two days tops before the NIA catches up to us,” Ty said. “We can’t risk staying longer than that. We were hoping to stay here for a day, though, and rest. Maybe leave our wounded when we go?”
Harrison looked between Ty and the others and frowned. “Your boys could use the bunkhouse, if you want them close by.”
Ty glanced at Zane for his opinion. He had wrapped his arms tightly around his mother, his head resting atop hers. His eyes were closed, but somehow he knew Ty had looked to him for an answer. He nodded.
Ty found his throat tightening at the expression gracing Zane’s face. He tore his eyes away and nodded at Harrison. “Thank you, sir,” he croaked. “That’ll be perfect.”
Harrison gestured at the small army Ty and Zane had dragged with them to Texas, waving them over as he thumped down the front steps. “Let’s go, boys,” he called to them. “I’ll show you the accommodations.”
Ty followed so he could give Zane a moment alone with his mother. The others fell in behind them, with Nick taking up his usual spot on point even though he was limping, and the others fanning out behind them.
“That car looks to be in mighty fine shape, Ty,” Harrison said as they headed for a rustic little building across the yard from the main house and beside the barn that had nearly burned down several years before. He smiled at Ty. “I’m happy to see I wasn’t wrong in thinking you’d do her right.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll be expecting the keys back when this is all done.”
Harrison chuckled. He gave the other men a pointed look. “These boys your team?”
“These are my brothers.”
Harrison glanced back at Sidewinder and nodded, smiling sadly. He unlocked the bunkhouse door and led them inside. They filed in obediently.
The bunkhouse had only one exit because it was all one room, but for a section built into a corner by the kitchen that Ty assumed was a bathroom. There was an old apron sink with a curtain to cover the lower cabinets, and a beat-up fridge and range. The only electric light appeared to be mounted over the sink. Ty supposed ranch hands went to bed and rose with the sun. A long wooden table that could seat at least twelve sat in the center of the pine plank floor. A couple old sofas were situated around a scuffed coffee table in the corner near an old wood stove, and the right half of the room was lined with sets of bunk beds.
“Built these myself,” Harrison told Ty, beaming.
“Thank you, sir,” Ty said.
The boys all moved to the bunks and set their bags down. Ty smiled wistfully when he noticed that Sidewinder had aligned themselves in the same way they’d slept a decade ago. Some habits died hard. The bed Elias Sanchez had always claimed, the bunk above Kelly, remained untouched. The bunk beside that, the one over Nick, was where Ty had always laid his head. Ty stared at both empty beds, his stomach churning.
Harrison was silent. He could probably tell that Ty had too much on his mind to take the full tour right now. He gave Ty a gentle pat on the shoulder and left them alone.
Ty stood in the middle of the big room, frowning at the door. The others were murmuring to each other, rustling around as they got settled. Finally, Ty moved to sit on the edge of one of the nearby racks. He leaned his elbows on his knees and stared without really seeing.
The bunkhouse had the same feeling the desert camps always had, and Ty was surprised by how hard that feeling hit him with the other boys here. It was something almost like homesickness: the feeling that something was simply missing.
The bed opposite him creaked and Ty straightened in surprise, feeling the heat creep up his face at being caught off guard.
“Doing okay?” Owen asked.
Ty nodded. “Feels like Eli’s here.”
Owen was still for a few seconds, but finally he nodded. “Yeah, it does.”
Neither of them had moved when the door creaked open and Zane stepped inside. He shut it again, turning the dead bolt.
“Hey,” he greeted.
The others all quieted, waiting for Zane to speak. Ty lowered his head, fighting an ache in his head and in his heart.
Zane sat down on the bunk beside Ty. “Your family is settled in. Safe.” Zane looked over the others and raised his voice. “Clancy called. They couldn’t get to the money.”
Ty breathed out uneasily. Plan A had been to simply give the fucking money to the CIA and let them deal with everyone else who was gunning for the millions. Without the money, though, they were stuck with Plan B. And Plan B was the one where they all died trying to kidnap the head of the Vega cartel so they could trade him for the protection of the CIA.
“What happened?” Liam asked.
“Clancy said they hit too much red tape. Even with the code word, it would take a year or more to get to that money without the account owner. Not only do we not have Burns, all we’ve got is six random letters.”
“What are they?” Ty asked. They’d been so caught up in trying to find Nick, and then Zane, that no one had even looked at the final transmissions from the CIA.
Zane retrieved his iPad, flipping until he found it. “An A. Two H’s. Two O’s. And an R.”
Nick coughed and curled onto his side, holding his ribs. Ty an
d Zane both turned to him in concern. Nick was glowering, his green eyes blazing as Kelly sat on the bunk next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Oohrah, boys,” Nick said through gritted teeth.
The word hit Ty hard, and he met Zane’s eyes as molten rage filtered through him. Burns had used the word as his code, his way to get into all that blood money.
“Who’s sorry he’s dead, now?” Nick asked as he settled his cheek against Kelly’s leg, pulling a blanket over his head.
Ty tried to fight back the anger so he could think. Zane’s hand came to rest on his back, gentle and soothing.
“I’ll call Clancy. See if I can catch her before they get on a plane.”
The others were silent as Zane flipped through his phone. He sniffed as his phone rang. He perked up when Clancy answered, and he quickly told her the code word they’d uncovered and what to do. “We have no more than forty-eight hours to move before the NIA catches up. If you can’t get it done in twenty-four, we need you here. Then we head to Miami. Finish this.” He ended the call after another moment, glancing around. The news felt woefully inadequate.
Ty wrapped an arm around him, hugging him close. “It’s going to be okay.”
Zane met Ty’s eyes solemnly. “That’s a lie.”
“I’m always lying about something, Zane,” Ty said softly.
“I know,” Zane replied just as softly. He smiled, though, squeezing Ty’s knee to soften the blow of the words. “We going to sleep down here?”
“That was the plan.”
“My old room in the house is empty.” Zane glanced at the bunk behind them, where Kelly was holding Nick’s head in his lap. “There’s spare rooms too.”
Kelly nodded. He gazed at Owen and then Digger, then at the bunk above him and finally at Nick, who had fallen asleep as Kelly stroked his hair. “This feels like home enough.”
Zane’s eyes went soft and sad. Ty leaned forward and ran his fingers through Zane’s hair, brushing across his skin when Zane turned his head. When Zane stood and headed for the door, Ty trailed after him.
“Well, fine then!” Digger shouted after them as they left.
Dinner was a solemn affair, considering how many people were involved. Sidewinder ate in the kitchen to give the two families time alone.
Mara, Earl, and Chester were all there safely, and Zane could see relief in the more relaxed lines of Ty’s shoulders. He’d insisted he hadn’t been worried the last few days, but Zane knew his husband.
Something he let slip out loud without thinking as they ate.
“I’m sorry, husband?” Mara asked, her voice reaching a pitch that made the dog raise his head and growl. Silverware clinked. All conversation stopped.
Ty blinked at her with his mouth open.
Zane cleared his throat and reached to pet Mara’s arm. “Just the civil ceremony,” he said quickly. “We’ll do the rest whenever it’s a good time. We . . . we were tired of waiting.”
“And you can’t call your mama and tell her you got hitched?” Mara shouted at Ty.
“She gon’ beat his ass,” Digger observed from the kitchen.
“Well, Ma, I’m sorry, but I’ve kind of had a rough week!” Ty yelled back.
“Tyler,” Earl growled.
Ty glanced at him, looking mutinous, but he bit his lip and sighed. “Sorry, Ma.”
“Mara, stow it ’til later, huh?” Earl added. He went back to cutting his steak. After taking a bite, he nodded. “Congratulations, boys.” He gave Zane a wink and said nothing more about it.
Harrison, though, got up from the head of the table and came over to him. When Zane stood, his father embraced him tightly. He didn’t say anything, just hugged him. Zane realized he’d actually been more concerned about what the Gradys would say than his own parents, but this small gesture from his dad meant the world to him. Zane held on to him for a few extra seconds, then released him and sat back down, trying to conceal the grin bubbling up as his father forced Ty to stand and hug him as well. Even Beverly managed to offer them a smile. Zane held a tiny flicker of hope in his heart that she would come around. If they lived out the week.
When dinner was over, the Sidewinder boys and Liam all flowed out into the courtyard, disappearing right before Zane’s eyes in all different directions. “What are they doing?” he asked Ty.
“Perimeter check. It’s not the first one they’ve done.” Ty watched them go as he pushed through the screen door and held it open for Zane. Zane thanked him quietly, his mind still elsewhere and his body moving mostly on autopilot. He was trying to pick out the figures in the night, but Sidewinder was gone. He heard one loud yip from the left and then cackling laughter.
He glanced at Ty, who was smiling off into the darkness.
Chester was already easing into one of the numerous rocking chairs on the front porch. He’d apparently claimed it as his own almost immediately upon arrival, and no one seemed willing to argue with him or his shovel.
Since landing in Texas, he’d also acquired another object to carry with him everywhere he went: a pump-action 12-gauge shotgun from Harrison’s gun case.
No one seemed willing to argue with that, either.
He cleared his throat as the screen door squeaked, spit a wad of tobacco into a paper cup, and pulled his shovel and his shotgun into his lap without saying a word. Zane was a little wary of the man after what he’d witnessed in West Virginia, but he also had even more admiration for him, if that was possible.
Zane was basically looking at Ty’s future, right now.
Ty flopped into one of the chairs beside the old man and threw his feet up onto the railing. Earl was right behind them, and he pulled two more heavy chairs across the wooden boards of the porch. Zane sat in one of them with a murmur of thanks.
Harrison settled in beside Ty and propped his feet on the railing as well.
Zane grinned as he watched the other men. This was his family. His husband. His father. His father-in-law. Chester had even told Zane to call him Grandpa. Zane leaned back in the chair and extended his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. It felt weird to be relaxing when the world seemed to be burning out there, but if he had learned one thing from Ty, it was to take what fate gave you in that moment and not question it.
There was a long moment of comfortable silence as they settled in, taking in the deepening cool in the air accompanying the setting sun, and the growing sounds of the ranch as darkness fell: The horses in the distance, the dog off barking at his shadow. The hoots of nonindigenous owls that Zane soon decided were some sort of communication between Sidewinder as they made their perimeter.
“I miss my tiger roaring,” Ty finally mused.
Zane and Harrison both chuckled. “I don’t,” Harrison said with a huff.
The screen door squeaked again, and Mara and Beverly both came out to join them. Zane was so surprised to see his mother that he stood, awkwardly offering his chair to her as if there weren’t five other empty ones sitting around.
“Thank you, Zane,” she said, and she sat primly on the edge of the rocking chair.
Ty got up and rearranged some things, making room for Mara. She was holding something in her hands that Zane hadn’t noticed at first glance, and after she sat, she handed it to Ty. It was Annie’s old practice violin.
Ty took it in both hands, holding it gently. He looked pained as he ran his fingers over it.
Beverly cleared her throat, displaying her discomfort through her stiff shoulders and rigid spine. “Mara was telling me you can play, Tyler,” she said. “I was hoping you might do us the honor of a song or two.”
Ty stared at her for a long moment, until even Zane was uncomfortable with the silence.
“I . . . I would be glad to, ma’am, but I’m afraid I may not be able.”
“Why not?” Mara asked, her brow creasing in concern.
Ty grimaced again. “The way my hand’s been all beat up. If it requires me to stretch, it won’t do it too well.”
“You ca
n’t play anything?” Earl asked, sounding almost sad.
“I haven’t gotten up the nerve to try,” Ty admitted. He was stroking the old violin, not raising his head. Zane watched him, frowning. He wondered if Ty was telling the truth or if he shied away from the instruments he had been known for in New Orleans just like he shied away from singing now. The loss of that talent seemed such a tragedy.
“Will you try?” Zane asked.
Ty looked up at him in surprise, and his worried frown faded into a gentle, sad smile. He took the bow in one hand and settled the violin against his chin. He began to tune it by ear, and the sounds of the strings whining their way to the right pitch brought back memories of Zane’s childhood, of sitting in his room reading while Annie practiced down the hall, of the musicians warming up before his wedding to Becky.
Zane smiled serenely as Ty started a slow, melancholy waltz.
He was a little rusty. So was the violin. But the tune filtered through the night with an otherworldly oddity, taking over the music of the wind and giving the evening an eerie, haunting sway.
When he was finished, the world once again fell into silence, and to Zane everything seemed darker and sadder for the loss. He gazed at Ty like the man could rope the moon.
From the darkness came a round of clapping and a few whistles.
Ty was smiling crookedly. Earl and Mara sat with their hands clasped together, and Chester appeared to be asleep. Harrison was nodding as if in approval, and to Zane’s surprise, Beverly had her fingers over her lips, watching Ty as if she might be seeing him for the first time.
“That was lovely, Tyler,” she whispered after a few moments. “Thank you for sharing.”
“Thank you for asking, ma’am,” Ty whispered, like he was afraid his voice would destroy the peace the music had created.
Beverly stood and wished them all a good-night, then retired into the house. Silence threatened, but the wind chimes tinkling down the porch and Ty’s ever-fidgeting fingers idly plucking the strings of the violin battled against it.