by A. M. Arthur
After a delicious—if moderately fattening—breakfast of home fries, bacon, and warmed day-old biscuits, they set about breaking camp. Bedrolls were shaken out and packed up. Cooking equipment was washed in the creek and stored away. The fire pit killed and ashes buried. Eventually it was time to saddle up their horses. Mack and Reyes checked every saddle before anyone was allowed to mount.
Mack tugged on Blizzard’s straps, a small grin telling Wes he’d done good without words.
Apparently, the morning ride took them a few miles deeper into the wilderness before they’d turn around and head home. Reyes left the wagon behind and rode his horse without a damned saddle, which earned him mad respect from Wes. Their group stopped near a cliff that overlooked a green valley. Mack directed everyone to look out toward the north.
A herd of deer grazed together, at least seven of them. Paying no attention to humans watching them from several hundred feet away. Another stream—nope, part of the same stream, according to Mack—wound its way through the valley. The view was unexpectedly beautiful.
Miles even let go of Tango’s reins long enough to snap a few photos. Wes did the same with his phone, then took a couple of the wedding party on their horses. Got a great shot of Sophie with her head tossed back, laughing at something Conrad said. Even sitting on different horses, they were close to each other, in sync. Wes hadn’t realized how much he wanted that closeness, too, until Sophie got engaged to the perfect guy. Was there a perfect guy out there for Wes, too?
He glanced over at Mack, who immediately looked away.
Is he scoping me out?
After their middle of the night flirting, anything was possible. Wes had surprised himself by telling Mack the gory details of his adventure in Hollywood television. Having left things unsettled between Drake and himself was one of Wes’s biggest regrets. One he needed to let go of, because there was no way to contact Drake, even on the off-chance Drake spoke to him again.
“Everyone, feel free to explore a while, just watch the edge there,” Mack called. “We’ll take fifteen before we head home.”
Wes should have used the opportunity to stretch, but he hadn’t been in the saddle very long yet, so he reined Blizzard away from the group a bit, then went slack. Allowing the horse to lead herself for a while. He snapped pictures with his phone and studied the mountains in the far distance. They were part of the ranch property, but they seemed like another world altogether.
He’d never given much thought to exploring the wilderness before. Mack admitted that a chunk of the property was unexplored. And while Wes didn’t believe that robbers had ever left gold on the land, he kind of wanted to see more of it. Maybe take a private tour with Mack, two bedrolls and a strip of condoms.
The absolute quiet was almost too loud, and Wes looked around.
He was completely alone, no sign of the group anywhere.
Oh shit, what did I do?
How had no one seen him wander off? “This is what I get for letting you lead yourself,” he said to Blizzard. The horse ignored him.
Wes wasn’t panicking yet. He pulled Blizzard to a stop, then looked behind him, stupidly hoping for a trail. But the ground was solid, not muddy, and Wes couldn’t figure out exactly where he’d come from. The big mountain he’d been staring at was vaguely more behind him, so maybe if he turned Blizzard around and use the mountain to guide him. Like old cowboys used the stars.
Blizzard gave a start, which made Wes drop the reins. Something black-and-white burst out from the underbrush, and before Wes could properly catalogue the skunk—or panic about it—Blizzard bolted.
Wes screamed and hunched down, gripping the saddle pommel in bloodless fists, unable to grab the reins while holding onto the galloping horse for dear life.
* * *
Mack had been so determined to ignore how gorgeous Wes looked astride Blizzard this morning that he temporarily lost track of the sassy blond. He rose up in his stirrups, sure the guy had simply wandered away. Wes wasn’t stupid enough to go beyond eyesight of the group.
“Wes?” Sophie called out. “Where’d you go, bro?”
That got everyone’s collective attention on the bride-to-be and her missing Best Person. Mack met Reyes’s curious gaze and shrugged. “I’ll take a look around,” Mack said. “Everyone hang here, I’m sure he’s just down the trail.”
He’d better be.
“Better hope a mountain lion doesn’t get him,” Liam said.
Conrad rounded on the guy, his face thunderous, and Liam backed off.
Mack got one of the shotguns from the wagon, just in case, and then took a wide trot back down the trail. Didn’t see his missing city slicker, so he looped away from the trail, wandering in a southern arc, keeping his eyes open for a flash of white. West of where he’d left the group, Mack spotted a disturbance on the ground that could have been from a spooked horse. Mack wasn’t a trained tracker, and if Blizzard had taken off, he needed help finding her.
He unhooked his walkie-talkie from his belt. “Judson, you copy? Got a lost sheep.”
The frequency crackled, and then, “I’m here. Which one?”
“Blizzard. Wandered off at the northernmost trail point.”
“Give me a minute.”
“Copy.”
Three years ago, after a pain in the ass guest decided that because they were a trained horse rider, they could wander off the trail and explore on their own, the ranch had begun investing in Tags. They were small GPS instruments that could be attached to saddles and tracked via computer. Over the years, they’d managed to purchase the twenty they needed to cover every potential guest, and each horse had its own specific Tag.
All Judson had to do was get on the computer, bring up the program, and give him directions on how to find Wes and Blizzard. Mack trusted Blizzard to eventually find her way home, but he didn’t trust Wes.
“Mack, copy?” Judson asked.
Mack raised his walkie. “Copy. Where’s my wanderer?”
“Looks about a mile west of the trail, getting near the back forty.”
“A mile?” Damn, something must have startled Blizzard good for her to run that far. She wasn’t usually a skittish horse.
“Yeah. Looks like you’re gonna cross the stream again, and then there’s a big cluster of trees and brush in a valley.”
“Got it.”
“You might get out of range of the walkie that far out, so be careful, son.”
“Always am.”
Mack hooked the walkie back onto his belt. Reyes had probably heard the whole thing from his end, and Mack trusted him to wrangle the other guests, while Mack went in search of his missing rider. He gave Tude a squeeze with his heels, sending him from a canter to a gallop, watching the location of the mountain peak as he rode.
This part of the land was mostly unexplored and far beyond where they usually brought guests. Knowing how close Wes had gotten to the unknown of the back forty worried him more than he’d ever admit out loud. And also made him curious. It would give Mack his first glimpse of the parcel of land that some developer seemed interested in. As much as Mack agreed with Arthur’s reasons for not selling, the ranch and the dying town of Garrett could definitely use a big influx of cash.
After galloping for about a mile or so, he slowed Tude down to a canter, eyes wide for any sign of Blizzard and Wes. He didn’t want to start shouting the guy’s name and attract unwanted wildlife, and the shotgun was for safety, not announcing his presence. Once they crossed the stream as Judson said, Mack eased Tude back to a trot.
The land had flattened out a bit in the new valley, with a craggy mountain rising up in the distance, maybe half a mile away. Something else rose up on the land, not exactly the clusters of trees that Judson mentioned. Sure, there were some trees, most of them burst by lightning and dead, but they weren’t what made Mack sit up straighter.
Or an old mining town.
And farther in the distance, a flash of white caught his attention. Mack nudged Tude faster, Blizzard’s familiar shape coming into sharper focus. A horse without a rider, which sent a bolt of alarm through Mack. Had she thrown Wes somewhere along the way? Was he out in the wilderness somewhere, unconscious and hurt? Guests signed waivers about injuries, but Mack would take it pretty damned personally if Wes got hurt on his watch.
He rode toward Blizzard, who was tied to a broken fence post. She nickered as he approached. He stared at her reins.
Tied up.
“Wes Bentley?” Mack called. His voice echoed, bouncing off the walls of the various buildings in different states of disrepair. “Wes!”
“Hey!”
Mack nearly jerked the reins. Wes had stepped out onto the porch of one of the dilapidated buildings and waved at Mack.
“Are you hurt?” Mack asked.
“No. I may or may not have puked my breakfast up when Blizzard finally stopped running, but I’m not hurt.”
Mack swung off Tude, then tied him to the same post as Blizzard. Kept the shotgun against his shoulder as he approached. Wes looked pale, with two bright spots of color on each cheek. No false bravado in place. He’d been scared and admitted to it, and that did something funny to Mack’s insides. “Come down off that before you fall through,” Mack said.
“It’s sturdy.” Wes stamped on the porch board. “I can’t believe this is here.”
As curious as Mack was about the old ghost town, he needed to do his job first. “Wes, what happened?”
“Oh, I got lost. I mean, I didn’t get lost so much as I wasn’t paying attention to where Blizzard was going, but once I realized we were out of sight of the group, she got spooked by a skunk and raced off. It was all I could do to hold on and not fall off, fuck trying to grab the reins and stop her. I’ve never ridden a galloping horse before.” Wes sounded both affronted and still a tiny bit terrified, which Mack found kind of cute.
“It can be startling if you haven’t done it before,” Mack said. “I’m impressed she didn’t throw you.”
“So am I, believe me. I think she slowed down because she found the town. Once I peeled myself out of the saddle, I started to look around.”
Wes’s wan smile made Mack pay closer attention. The color on his cheeks and tightness of his shoulders. The guy had been really, truly scared, and he still wasn’t okay. Mack resisted the urge to hug him. Wes was his guest, not a scared friend.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Mack said.
“Wouldn’t want to lose a guest on your watch, right?”
“Exactly, so get down off that porch.”
“Fine.”
Wes took three strides across the ancient porch. Right in front of the three steps down, something snapped, and his left foot disappeared beneath the splintered wood. Wes yelped, then fell backward on his ass. Mack bit back a sharp I told you so and went to help him.
“Fuck, that hurts,” Wes said.
“You twist it?” Mack asked, squatting in front of Wes. His leg disappeared into a jagged hole to mid-calf.
“No, something’s stabbing my ankle.”
“Should have worn boots.”
Wes grumped. “The only boots I brought had a heel and seemed inappropriate to wear on a twenty-four-hour horse ride. Something got me between my sneaker top and my pant leg. Ow.”
Mack couldn’t tell if Wes was really in pain, or if he was being a princess about a little cut, so he treaded with caution. He poked around the hole, checking for additional jagged edges, before gently lifting Wes’s leg by the knee. Wes hissed as his foot rose out of the hole. Sure enough, a piece of wood had pierced Wes’s leg near the ankle, deep enough to make it bleed and look crazy painful.
“Ugh.” Wes grimaced.
“Please tell me you aren’t afraid of blood.”
“Not mine, but other people’s blood makes me squeamish.”
“Good. Stay put a second. I’ve got a first aid kit in my saddlebag.”
“My hero.”
Mack shot him a withering look, then jogged over to Tude for the kit. He used his walkie to try and raise someone. Must be too far out, because he couldn’t get Reyes or Judson. He’d have to get Wes patched up and back on his horse so they could reconnect with the group. Except his overwhelming curiosity about the ghost town also made him want to poke around.
No, poking around got Wes wounded.
He could take some pictures, though, to show Judson and Arthur. If Arthur had any idea the town existed, he’d never mentioned it. Someone in town might know why it was here.
Wes had his pant leg pulled up as far as the tight material would go, and he’d taken off his sneaker and sock. His feet were as long and elegant as his body—Nope, stop it. No admiring the goods. Patching only.
Mack got two bandage squares and antibiotic powder ready, before wrapping his fingers around the piece of wood. “This is gonna hurt.”
“I know.” Wes smashed his eyes shut. “Do it.”
Wes got points for not letting out more than a soft grunt when Mack yanked the wood shard. About an inch came out of his leg, and blood oozed from the wound. He pressed one bandage down to staunch the bleeding, then glanced at Wes. Wes’s face was paler, but he didn’t appear in danger of passing out. Sturdier than Mack gave him credit for.
Mack braced Wes’s foot on his own thigh, so he had better access to pull the bloody bandage away and then sprinkle on the antibiotic powder. “How’s your tetanus shot status?” he asked as he applied the clean bandage.
“Might need to get a booster,” Wes replied.
“Better safe than sorry.” Mack wound strips of medical tape over the bandage to keep it stuck to Wes’s skin, then covered the whole thing with a self-adhesive bandage.
“All this first aid knowledge from your time in SWAT?”
“Some of it. Took a few non-credit courses on life-saving over the years. Never know when the skills will come in handy, especially way out here.”
“With so many clumsy city slickers around?”
“City slickers and new cowboys.”
Wes placed a dramatic hand on his brow. “Don’t tell me Mack Garrett is clumsy.”
He laughed as he gathered up the trash. “You’d be amazed how many ways there are to stab or scrape yourself in a barn.”
“Do tell.” Wes dropped the hand in favor of a sexy eyebrow wiggle. “I’d love a private tour of the barn.”
Mack would love to give him one, too, which was precisely why it wasn’t happening. “I’ll be sure Reyes gives you one when we get back.”
“I don’t want Reyes to give me a tour.”
Mack blinked, having too much fun playing dumb to stop now. “Colt, then? Or maybe Bert? I’ll see who’s available.”
Wes opened his pretty little mouth to speak again, then squinted at Mack. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
“Took you long enough.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t speak cowboy.”
“I can tell. Think you can walk?”
“Of course I can.” Wes pulled himself up using the ancient rail. The wood creaked, and he grimaced but didn’t fall back over. “Ow.”
“Stay here, I’ll bring your horse over.” No sense in him limping farther than he had to.
Mack packed the first aid and trash away, then led both horses back to Wes, who was gazing at the town.
“You seriously had no idea this was here?” Wes asked as he took Blizzard’s reins from Mack.
“Nope. Not even sure my grandfather knows. We’re right up close to the part of the ranch we call the back forty. It’s the wildest part of the land that no one’s explored in the last
century.”
Wes’s eyes lit up. “Do you think that gold could be hidden around here somewhere? It was never found, right?”
“I don’t even know if I believe that story’s true, but it’s possible.” Mack gazed around. Behind the tallest remaining building, the land sloped upward sharply and got rocky. It was possible someone once had a mine up here, and the small town had sprung up around it. That had happened all over California during the gold rush, and most of those towns were gone—either deserted or reclaimed by the wilderness.
This town didn’t have many more years left before it was reclaimed, too.
Something buried itself into the back of Mack’s mind. Not an idea, so much as a hint of an idea. He kept it close as he turned, taking a few photos with his phone. Only a handful of buildings still stood, but they outlined how the town had probably once been situated at the base of the mountain.
“Makes you wonder about the people who used to live here, doesn’t it?” Wes asked. “Why they came? Why they left? Where their family is now?”
The depth behind those questions made Mack do a double take. Wes was stroking the front of Blizzard’s head while staring sadly at the building that had injured him. As if caught up by the ghosts of the people who’d once walked that porch as they went about their day. He liked knowing Wes had a deeper, more serious side beneath the flirting and bluster. It was damned appealing.
“It makes you wonder,” Mack agreed. “Come on. We gotta get back before Reyes starts to worry. I’m out of walkie range.”
“Okay.”
His left foot was the wounded one, and Wes had a little trouble bracing it in the stirrup to haul himself up, so Mack gave him a boost. Lifting Wes up with both hands under his butt absolutely did not make Mack’s dick twitch with interest. Not at all. Once Wes was settled, Mack mounted Tude and settled in.