Wild Trail

by A. M. Arthur

  Colt made a hilarious choking sound, as if insulted that Mack would reveal such a thing. Then he sulked against the truck cab, face hidden in shadows.

  “That sounds like an interesting story,” Wes said quietly.

  “All I know is that it was a mutual breakup, but sometimes I wonder.” Mack chuckled. “I think I’ve paid him back for lying to me yesterday. You gonna get revenge on Sophie?”

  “I haven’t decided. She’s already stressing about the perfect venue for the wedding. She wants non-traditional.”

  “If she wants non-traditional, she should do it at the ghost town when we open. That would be a hell of a way to start off.”

  Mack laughed again, like he’d made a good joke, but the wheels in Wes’s head started spinning hard. Sophie had loved the ranch. She wanted to go back next summer. She would probably flip the fuck out at the idea of doing the wedding there, and talk about a cash influx into Garrett.

  “Does this town even have a hotel?” Wes blurted out.

  “Small one off the highway. Why?” Mack’s eyebrows dipped. “Are you taking what I said seriously?”

  “Yes. Sophie would totally go for it. She didn’t get to see the bones of the town, how much potential there is, but I did. She’d love to make the wedding party dress up in period clothes, too, I guarantee it.” The more Wes imagined it, the more perfect it seemed.

  “Well, don’t get her hopes and dreams up yet, we’ve only just started. Once Avery sees the place and speaks with the construction foreman, I’ll have a better timetable on how long the job will take to complete.”

  “Avery’s the historian?” Off Mack’s nod, Wes said, “I have faith in you. I really do. Every time you talk about the restoration, I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice.”

  “Yeah. And I never would have found it if it weren’t for you.”

  “Me and my spooked horse.” Wes made the joke, because the tender feelings in Mack’s eyes were a little overwhelming. So were the tender feelings warming his own belly.

  “Come on, pal,” Colt shouted. “We gotta get you back and dressed.”

  Mack pulled him in for another kiss, then walked toward the truck. Climbed inside. Wes watched the pickup pull away down the dusty road, until it disappeared from sight. His heart tugged in that direction, but he’d see Mack again soon. This time, as Wes drove away from the Clean Slate Ranch, he wasn’t saying goodbye. Instead, he was starting something completely new.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mack scanned the pickup area at San Jose International Airport, searching for the face on his phone. Avery had emailed him a photo, so Mack didn’t have to do the goofy, curbside sign thing, but it was still hard to pick someone you didn’t know out of a flowing crowd of people. Didn’t help that he hated airports. Always busy, always crowded, always lots of people ready to mow him down with their rolling suitcase if he didn’t pay attention.

  He’d sent a brief description of himself to Avery, too, and he was wearing his blue ranch polo to stand out better. Mack ignored the occasional curious glance thrown his way, because yeah, he looked a little like a hayseed in the big city. Funny how cities no longer felt like home.

  A familiar-looking face emerged from the latest stream of passengers. The man spotted him and grinned, and that was definitely Avery Hendrix. The picture didn’t do him justice at all—not that Mack was cruising, but he could appreciate a handsome man. Tall and thin, he walked like he could take on the world and do it with a smile. He had dark brown hair that hung down past his chin in flat, shiny layers that offset his heart-shaped face.

  “You must be Mack Garrett,” Avery said, extending his right hand while his left pulled a small, carry-on rolling suitcase with a giant rainbow sticker on it. “Avery Hendrix. Pleasure.” He had a slight lilt to his voice, suggesting he’d grown up in the northeast.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Hendrix.” Mack shook his slim hand, impressed by the firm grip.

  “Please, call me Avery.”

  “Mack.”

  “Excellent.”

  Mack directed him toward his waiting car. He attempted to stow the suitcase for Avery, but Avery put it into the trunk himself, after retrieving a tablet from a front sleeve. “We’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us,” Mack said. “You need a pit stop before we hit the road?”

  “I appreciate it. I have a bladder the size of a lima bean, and I’d also kill for a chocolate milk.”

  He left the odd milk craving alone. “I’ll find us a Kwik & Convenient before we hit the highway.”

  Avery barely waited until Mack was thirty seconds away from the airport before turning on the tablet. “I absolutely loved the photos you sent me, and I know you said you’d had trouble finding any real information on what might have been up there, so I did a little digging on my own but I don’t have anything concrete yet.”

  Holy cow, that had all been in one breath. Catnip, indeed.

  “Okay,” Mack said.

  “Well, I started by looking into the history of the town of Garrett. Interesting last name, by the way.”

  “My family’s been up that way for generations. Plenty of stories about the ranch, but none passed down about a ghost town.”

  “Understandable. Judging from the pictures and architecture, I’d guess it was built during the height of the Northern California gold rush, which occurred between 1848 and 1855. Did you know over 300,000 people moved to California hoping to strike gold? Anyhow, a lot of towns popped up around even the smallest veins, because everyone wanted to strike it rich. Gold fever, you know?”

  Mack’s hand jerked on the wheel. “There could be a gold mine up there somewhere?”

  “It’s hard to know without doing a proper search of the land, but even if a mine exists, it’s likely the town failed because they either mined all the gold, or they didn’t find anything after all. Like I said, we won’t know until we look.” Avery swiped over his tablet. “I’ve only just started searching, but I did find hints to suggest there had once been a town in that approximate area that was mostly destroyed by a big fire.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s just a mention, no town name, but it gives me a starting point in doing additional research. If you hire me for this job, Mack, I’d like to do as much investigating as I can. Your tourist attraction will be stronger if you have the history of the town it once was, steep it in its history, instead of having to make it all up.”

  “That sounds great.” They’d already discussed a fair salary, and the more Avery spoke, the more excited Mack got about offering him the job and getting a yes. Of getting his project past the basics and into actually building, restoring and creating something amazing. Something he could show off to Wes, so Wes could see what he’d discovered.

  He’d had such a great time on Saturday night with Wes, and his blood still hummed with the decision they’d made to continue dating, to see where this thing between them went. Between Wes and the restoration, Mack hadn’t been this settled and happy in a long time—even if, in the back of his mind, he didn’t quite trust it to last.

  “Okay, who is she?” Avery asked.

  Mack glanced at his passenger, then concentrated on merging into his lane. “She?”

  “You got this distant, moony look, so I assumed it wasn’t about my research. Was I wrong?”

  “Half wrong.” If the guy had a history with Colt, he was bi at the very least, and unlikely to give Mack shit. “Thinking about a he, not a she.”

  “Aha.” Avery grinned at him. “Something new, I assume?”

  “Pretty new, and not really open for discussion.”

  “I understand. I’ll keep things professional going forward, I promise. After I say congratulations, and I hope it works out.”

  “Me, too.”

  After a quick stop at a Kwik for a bathroom break and snacks, they hit the r
oad for the drive east. Mack gave Avery a more detailed account of how Wes stumbled into the ghost town, and a very brief overview of their relationship. Avery listened with rapt enthusiasm, seeming genuinely happy that Mack had found someone. It made Mack somewhat curious about Avery’s own dating status, but the guy didn’t have a ring on his finger, and he didn’t offer up any hints as to being with someone.

  Mack decided to go fishing. “So the job would require you to be on-site for at least three months, maybe longer, depending on our assessment of the project scope.”

  “That’s absolutely not a problem. I know several people who’d love to sublet my apartment in Los Angeles, and I don’t have any pets to worry about. No plants, either. I live a life that lets me travel at a moment’s notice.”

  “No family to worry about?”

  “None in the area.” Avery’s tight tone suggested danger zone.

  Mack backed off. “So tell me more about your work experience.”

  That did the trick. Avery launched into a monologue that filled the rest of the trip to Garrett. He didn’t stop during the short ride through town, or when they passed the two boulders marking the road to Clean Slate Ranch. Mack skipped the new road to the ghost town for now. Arthur had asked to be included in this, so Mack drove to the main house to pick him up. After quick introductions, Arthur climbed into the truck bed with his shotgun.

  “What’s with the gun?” Avery asked.

  “We’re pretty far out into some wild land,” Mack replied. “Precaution is all.”

  “Gotcha.”

  As Mack turned the truck around, he caught a glimpse of Colt standing by the barn, watching the truck.

  Colt ducked into the barn.

  Interesting.

  Mack headed back down the dirt road to the new path they were slowly creating. They’d put down gravel eventually, but for now he followed the little orange flag markers. Avery’s excitement grew with each passing mile, until he was nearly vibrating in his seat.

  Since Mack had seen the town several times now, he leaned against the truck while Avery darted around the grounds, poking into buildings, constantly making notes on his tablet. He looked like a child let loose in his favorite toy store, and Mack allowed Avery’s enthusiasm to wash over him.

  “I think you picked a good one,” Arthur said.

  “His resume is impressive, and he even did some advanced research,” Mack replied. “I think he’s the one, but I wanted to give him a chance to see what we’re working with. It’s not a lot.”

  Avery gave a mighty screech. They took off, Arthur clutching the shotgun. Avery was a dozen yards away, hidden by one of the smaller buildings, both hands covering his mouth. Mack saw what had offended him pretty fast—a mangled deer carcass.

  Arthur chuckled. “Well, that’s a city slicker’s reaction to a dead deer.”

  “That’s not a deer,” Avery said, “it’s a traffic accident. What did that?”

  “Probably a mountain lion.”

  “Lion would have killed it for food,” Mack said. “This thing was torn apart, not eaten. And it’s not fresh, so the truck didn’t scare off a predator.”

  “Pretty strange,” Arthur said. “And a waste of good meat.”

  Avery looked kind of green at that comment. Mack would put good money on him being a vegetarian.

  “I’ll drag it away from the town a ways,” Mack said. “You guys can go back.”

  “Thank you,” Avery said. “Sorry for screaming like that.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “Could wild lions cause a problem for your restoration?”

  “Doubtful, but that’s why we bring protection.”

  Arthur hefted the shotgun.

  While the other two wandered off, Mack grabbed the beast by its back hooves and pulled it toward the wilder edge of the town’s perimeter, closer to the mountain line. Left a streak of gore, too, but the next rain would take care of that. He left the deer carcass near a boulder, then turned to return. A few feet away, something flat and white caught his attention. Mack squatted and picked it up.

  A used cigarette butt. Hard to tell how long it had been there, but it made Mack’s stomach turn. No chance this had blown in the wind all the way from the ranch, and even the hands who smoked were very careful to dispose of the butts. It meant someone had been up here in the past year or two. Someone had seen the ghost town and not reported it. But who? And why had they been trespassing on private land?

  He pocketed the butt and headed back, keeping this secret to himself for now.

  After an hour exploring, Avery approached the truck, cheeks flushed, his straight hair slightly curly from the afternoon breeze. “This place is amazing,” Avery said. “The remaining buildings aren’t in the best condition, but they’re standing and restorable. The big one right there?” He pointed at the building where Wes had cut his leg. “That used to be the trading post or general store. You can tell by the shelving, bins and the U-shaped counter. There’s some sort of animal nest and no sign that it’s been used recently, but I did find this.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a copper coin. “It’s a two-cent piece that was only minted from 1864 to 1872, which means the town had residents until at least 1872. The nickel was more popular than two-and three-cent pieces, so in 1873 the government started purchasing them back and melted a lot of them, so they weren’t widely used post-1872.”

  “Damn, son,” Arthur said. “You got a Wikipedia in your head, because I know we don’t have Wi-Fi out here.”

  Avery laughed. “I have an eidetic memory. It gave me a huge advantage in school and in my job. Growing up, my dad was a huge coin buff, big collection, and he loved sharing what he knew. It was one of the things that pushed me toward history.” A cloud hovered over him a moment, before he shook it off. Bad memory, maybe?

  Mack studied the slim coin. One side had a shield and banner, and words too worn to read. The other side had a big 2 in the middle, the rest of it also worn, including the date. “Is it valuable?”

  “Not really. Maybe forty bucks if it was in better condition. You’d do better to keep it as a prop. Or put it on display, if you do a gift shop.”

  A gift shop hadn’t even occurred to Mack.

  “The more time you spend up here, the more treasures you’re likely to find,” Avery continued. “I’d suggest coming up here with a metal detector at least once. You never know what could be scattered around in the tall grass.”

  “Good idea, young man,” Arthur said. “Please tell me my grandson has offered you the consultant job.”

  “He hasn’t officially, but I’d love to take it. Very much.”

  “Then you’re hired,” Mack said, sticking out his hand.

  Avery shook it with that unexpectedly strong grip. “Thank you. I can’t wait.”

  * * *

  They poked around a while longer, Avery pointing out specific architecture or historical details. Arthur got tired and went back to wait in the truck until they were ready to leave. Avery’s favorite spot was the blacksmith shed, because most of the old equipment had been left behind, which meant a very authentic restoration.

  “To think my own ancestors could have lived here,” Mack said, “making their own shoes for their horses.”

  “Makes you wonder who they were and why they left,” Avery replied, a softer, reverent tone to his voice. “I have to admit, Mack, after I got over my initial excitement from your first phone call, I got incredibly curious about something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How Colt gave you my contact information?”

  Mack shrugged. “He walked into my office and handed me a piece of paper.”

  Avery’s face went blank, then shifted into confusion.

  Which kind of confused Mack. “We work together at the ranch,” Mack continued. “He quit SW
AT a few months after I did and moved up here for a simpler life.”

  “He told you he quit for a simpler life? And you let him come here?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” This whole conversation was weirding Mack out. And then it occurred to him that whatever relationship Colt and Avery had had, had been while Mack was grieving and raging at the world. “Did he tell you he quit SWAT for a different reason?”

  Avery’s face went bright red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Well, those words never went anywhere fun. “About what?”

  “You need to talk to Colt, because it’s not my place.”

  Mack’s frustration level was rising over Avery’s vague comments and answer avoidance, as if Mack was missing something completely obvious to others. “Okay, I’ll talk to Colt. And now that you know he works at the ranch, I ought to be frank and tell you he’ll be doing the electrical work on the restoration, so you two may run into each other.”

  “That won’t be an issue for me.”

  Avery looked kind of spooked, but Mack took him at his word.

  “All right. Sun’s coming down, so we should probably head back.”

  “Right.”

  The setting sun was actually an excuse for Mack to go back to the ranch and find Colt. He didn’t know what Avery wasn’t telling him, but he was going to find out.

  * * *

  Since Avery was spending the night at the ranch, he asked for an authentic experience. They had room in the guesthouse, so Arthur took him inside to meet Patrice, while Mack hunted down Colt. He hated thinking one of his best friends thought he couldn’t tell Mack a secret that he could apparently disclose to a short-term boyfriend.

  Colt wasn’t in the garage, but his favorite toolbox was missing, which meant he was still working someplace. Instead of wearing himself out looking, Mack called his cell.

  “Hey, pal, what’s up?” Colt said.

  “Where are you?”

  “Uh, barn. Why?”

  “Stay there, I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Okay. I’m fixing the hinge on Blizzard’s stall.”