by Lynn Hagen
That was when Lincoln had been looking for a hookup, but he’d found he and Jack made good friends and Lincoln hadn’t wanted to ruin that. They hadn’t slept together, but they’d gotten along and had shared a lot of meals after that.
Reggie grunted as he walked to the back of his flatbed to unload the forklift while Jack walked over to Lincoln. The sun caught Jack’s blue eyes, making them shimmer in the morning light.
“I’ll make sure everything is there before I sign off on it.” Jack took a sip from his tall travel mug. “Though I think my men would be better suited to offload the material.”
Reggie stared at the controls that would lower the forklift as if he’d never seen them before.
Lincoln had no idea why the local lumberyard would send someone incapable of doing his job. He had no grief against anyone who wasn’t physically fit. He just didn’t agree with sending someone inept.
Jack shook his head. “I better go help him, or we’ll be waiting all day to start.”
Lincoln left Jack and his men to the delivery as he headed toward the pasture where the cattle had been separated. His boots made tiny trails of dust kick up as he looked around for Red. The day was already growing hotter. Lincoln pulled a bandanna from his back pocket and wiped at the beads of perspiration dotting his forehead then stuffed the cloth back into his jeans.
Brett was closing the gate to the pen where the cattle to be sold had been corralled. “Seen Red?”
“I’ll be seeing red if Adam doesn’t show up soon. He was supposed to help me this morning, but he’s nowhere to be found. Not even Roger showed up. I’m gonna skin them both.”
It wasn’t like Adam not to be there for the cattle roundup. He was the foreman, and it was his job to oversee the process. Roger wasn’t the best ranch worker, but he completed his chores—sometimes later than expected—and could follow directions. Clearly not today, though.
Roger was a bit of a slacker, and more times than not Adam had had to get on Roger about putting some fire under his ass.
“I’m gonna go look for Adam,” Brett said. “You go find your mate. Maybe you’ll find Roger in the process.”
Lincoln jerked around when he heard shouting. Jack was waving his arms wildly as his two men jumped off the bed of the delivery truck. Reggie was seated in the forklift, a terrified look in his eyes as the forklift jerked forward with the heavy load, then, to Lincoln’s horror, it crashed on its side.
The lumber scattered everywhere, nearly burying the forklift and the driver. The load hadn’t been balanced, and Reggie had lifted more than the fork could carry.
Lincoln raced to where the men were. Jack’s men were trying to lift the forklift off of Reggie but weren’t having any luck.
“Get over here,” Lincoln said to Jack. “We’ll lift the forklift together.”
Lincoln could’ve done it on his own, with concentrated effort, but the driver was human, and he didn’t need to see nonhuman capabilities that couldn’t be easily explained.
“Please,” the driver begged. “Get this thing off me. My uncle is going to kill me for fucking this up.” Reggie let out a mournful cry and tried to jerk his arm then settled and panted heavily.
His arm was pinned under the bar of the cab enclosure, and there was a large stack of wood piled on top of the enclosure.
That explained how he’d gotten the job when he was clearly unqualified. His uncle needed an ass whooping for sending him out instead of keeping him at the lumberyard.
“Just don’t move,” Jack said. “Stay as still as possible.”
“I’m not gonna move,” the guy said. “I’m trying not to, but I can’t stop shaking.”
“Ready?” Lincoln looked at Jack, and that was when he spotted Mercy on the porch watching them. Just inside the door, barely noticeable, was Red.
Lincoln was filled with relief that his mate was fine. He didn’t have to go to the bunkhouse to search for him. He also knew why Red stayed hidden. The yard was filled with strangers. Lincoln was going to investigate Red’s incident, discreetly, just for his own peace of mind to ensure that the thugs who’d tried to kill Red weren’t actively searching for him.
“Lincoln.”
Jack’s voice pulled Lincoln’s attention back to what they were doing. They curled their hands around the overhead guard, braced their feet, and tried to hoist it into an upright position.
The lumber fell away, the two men with Jack clearing the pile, as Jack and Lincoln lifted the forklift off Reggie.
“Call an ambulance,” Lincoln said to no one in particular.
“I already did,” Mercy said from behind him. “Nobody move him. There’s no telling what injuries he’s sustained.”
“My arm!” Reggie cried out as he rocked back and forth. “My arm is on fire!”
“You cut off the circulation when the forklift pinned it. The return of your blood flow is what’s causing that burning sensation,” Red said from behind Lincoln. “If you can manage, don’t move anything.”
Lincoln was shocked Red had joined them. He stood almost behind Mercy, his arms wrapped around his midsection as his gaze bounced around.
Seven minutes later, which was damn good timing, considering how far Lincoln lived from town, the ambulance arrived and Reggie was loaded and ready to go.
“Fuck,” Jack cursed. “I’m going to have a talk with Bryson about sending his fucking nephew out on jobs he’s clearly not qualified to handle. That poor guy might lose the use of his arm.” He turned to his men. “Let’s get this cleaned up. Don’t start the forklift just yet. The oil might’ve mixed with the gas, and we don’t need to do more damage than has already been done.”
“What do you want us to do with the lumber?” one of them asked.
“For now we’ll carry what we need by hand. I need to call Bryson, so you guys put the other supplies by the stable.”
Once the ambulance pulled away, Lincoln walked Red to the house. They entered, and Lincoln was grateful for the cool interior. He’d worked up a nasty sweat lifting the forklift.
“I read that somewhere,” Red said. “About the trapped blood returning to circulation. I couldn’t stay hidden and do nothing, but it seems I was of no help.”
“There was nothing any of us could do.” Lincoln walked Red to the kitchen, where he poured two glasses of iced tea. “Reggie should’ve never been sent here. He had no idea what he was doing.”
“Was that his name?” Red took the offered glass. “I want to check on him later, to make sure he’s going to be okay.”
“Are you going to invite yourself into his hospital records?”
Red shook his head. “I want to go see him.”
“Why the change of heart?” Lincoln took a long swallow of the cold tea.
“I want to stop hiding from the world,” Red said. “Not that I want to announce that I’m alive, but… I dunno, but maybe it’s time I ventured off the ranch, just for a bit.”
“Do you trust your friend?” Lincoln set his glass on the counter. “The one who asked you to help him with that thumb drive?”
“Why do you ask?”
Lincoln moved closer and pulled Red into his arms. “I want to find out if those thugs are still around. Maybe we can discover their identities and you can use your skills to research them.”
Red’s expression shut down as he eased away from Lincoln. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Red.”
“Let it go,” Red snapped. “I should’ve never told you about that. It’s in my past, so leave it there.”
“Bullshit,” Lincoln argued. “It’s still affecting parts of your life, crippling you at times. That’s no way to live.”
“I’m not going to do this.” Red walked toward the living room. “I’m not going to let you lecture me on how to live my life.”
“I wasn’t trying to lecture you.” Lincoln followed. “I was trying to help you get your life back. What if those men are in prison or dead or not even looking for you? Wouldn�
��t that help ease your mind?”
Red whipped around, glaring at Lincoln. “Ease my mind? I was stabbed and shot twice. Have you ever gone through that? Have you ever crawled your way out of a house, unsure if you were going to live? Do you wake up at night in a cold sweat, nightmares plaguing you?”
That explained why Red never wanted to stay the night. Lincoln refused to feel bad about offering to help, but the way Red looked at him, stark fear in his eyes, knocked the wind right out of Lincoln’s sails.
“You were just talking about taking steps to regain your freedom,” he reminded Red. “Talking about going into town. I just wanted to help, Red. I wanted to give you back what you lost.”
“I’m done.” Red walked to the front door and stormed out.
Lincoln let out a long breath. He’d thought his plan was a great idea, but obviously Red did not.
Chapter Nine
Red cursed as he walked out of Lincoln’s house. He wasn’t sure why he’d gone on the defensive. He was a rational guy who always thought things through, but the mere mention of those men had triggered something inside him.
“Is Lincoln inside?” Brett asked as he advanced toward Red. The guy looked shaken as Red nodded.
“Thanks.” Brett hurried past him. Curious as to what had Brett so unsettled, Red turned and followed. He’d never seen the guy look anything but calm…or pissed. But that was only when Roger was being lazy and Brett had to stay on him like an exhausted parent making sure their kid’s chores were getting done.
“Lincoln,” Brett hollered. “Get out here.”
“What’s going on?” Red asked, but Brett ignored him.
Lincoln stepped onto the porch, and Red wanted to throw himself into the man’s arms. He didn’t like the strain between them. Red never liked tension or anxiety, and after what had happened to him, he liked it even less now.
But he was going to stand his ground. Confronting anything that involved that day made his stomach churn into knots. He wasn’t ready, and maybe he never would be.
“What’s all the hollering about?” Lincoln asked.
“I found Adam on the floor of his cabin. He was struck on the head. I started to call an ambulance, but the dang fool insisted he was okay. I didn’t see any blood, so I didn’t push it. He’s still home, resting at his table. What do you want me to do?”
Lincoln clomped down the steps, and Red was tempted to follow but wasn’t sure if he was welcome after his little outburst. He lingered around the steps, ready to go back to his chores when Lincoln walked back to him and grabbed Red’s hand, hauling him along.
They used four-wheelers to get to Adam’s cabin. Red had never been there, but he’d seen it from a distance. Up close it looked like a one-room cabin, with a slab for a front porch. Potted plants dotted the slab, and there was even a roof over it.
Lincoln parked, and Red joined him at the door. The cowboy gave a single knock before he stepped inside.
“I told Brett I was fine,” Adam groused. The words were barely decipherable.
“Who did this to you?” Lincoln demanded.
“Caught me from behind,” Adam mumbled. “Didn’t see who it was.”
“Did you lose consciousness?” Red asked. “Black out at any point?”
Adam glared at him.
“You don’t have to like me,” Red said. “But my question is important.”
Adam looked down at the table. “Maybe. I think I passed out.”
“Then you need to go to the hospital,” Red insisted. “You could have some kind of brain trauma.”
“That’s it.” Lincoln walked to the table. “Either you voluntarily go with Brett or I haul you there myself.”
Adam jerked from his chair and shot a hand at Red. “Because he says so? Who died and made him my boss?”
“You stubborn fool,” Lincoln bit off. “We’re trying to look out for you.”
“Fine.” Adam slid the chair in under the table and headed toward the door. “I’ll go get my coconut looked at. I hope your boyfriend is happy.”
Red exited the cabin, unsure how he felt. Sure, that morning Rhinestone had gotten away because Lincoln had shot a coyote. How was that Red’s fault? It seemed Adam knew how to hold on to a petty grudge.
And he hadn’t started acting that way until Red and Lincoln had spent time together. Was the foreman jealous? Was he homophobic? Didn’t he like the fact that his boss had another interest besides the ranch?
Red wasn’t going to spend time trying to figure it out. It wasn’t as though they were buddies. Adam had always treated Red with some distance, and that had been fine with him.
Now it was getting on his last nerve.
Brett was already outside with his pickup. “Well, did he agree to go?”
“By threat.” Red joined Brett. “Has he always been this stubborn?”
Brett shrugged. “Adam isn’t the chatty type, for obvious reasons. He gets the job done but likes to keep to himself. I don’t think anyone knows that much about him.”
Red turned when a large trailer pulled into the driveway.
Brett cursed. “They came to collect the cattle. I’m supposed to be helping with that. I still haven’t found Roger, and now Adam is going to the hospital. No way can Lincoln handle this on his own.”
Red bit his lip and cursed under his breath. He didn’t know the first thing about putting cattle in a trailer. The situation would be best served if Brett stayed behind with Lincoln.
There was guilt in Brett’s eyes. “I wasn’t trying to guilt you into taking him. I know how you feel about strangers and going into town, though I don’t understand it. I’m sure the driver can help Lincoln load the cattle.”
Red thought about what Brett said. If he took Adam, that would also give him a chance to check on the lumberyard driver. The portly guy who’d gotten his arm caught under the forklift.
But that also meant exposing himself, allowing the residents to see him, and maybe even some strangers who might be in town.
Did he really think those thugs would’ve traveled all this way? Fever’s Edge was a good fourteen hundred miles from Maple Grove. Unless the guy who’d nursed him back to health said something about Red even being alive, those three men thought Red was dead.
“I’ll do it.” Red’s heartbeat quickened at his own words. “I’ll take Adam to the hospital.”
“Are you sure?” Brett looked skeptically at Red. “I’ll have to get Lincoln’s okay. The person who set the fire and attacked Adam is still out there. I’m not sure Lincoln’ll go for this.”
“And as you pointed out, Lincoln can’t do this on his own, even with the driver’s help. He needs you here, Brett. I can manage to take one grumpy guy into town.”
“You don’t even know where the place is.”
“I’m sure Adam knows,” Red countered. “Give me your keys.”
There was honest relief on Brett’s face.
Until Lincoln walked out with Adam.
“Red said he’ll take Adam to the hospital so we can get the cattle loaded.”
“Hell no.” Lincoln shook his head. “The loading can wait. I’ll pay extra for the guy to stick around. I’m not letting—”
“I’m going,” Red argued. “You need Brett, and I need to check on Reggie. It’s the best solution until either of you can find Roger.”
“A word?” Lincoln walked toward where they’d parked their four-wheelers. Red had already made an ass of himself by biting Lincoln’s head off in the house. He was surprised the guy was talking to him at all.
“You know I’m right,” Red said when they stopped walking and Lincoln turned toward him. “You need Brett. I’m already having anxiety over taking Adam. Let me do this. I told you I needed to take my life back.”
“But not when there’s someone out there with a grudge,” Lincoln argued.
“So I’m just supposed to hide in your house with Mercy until he’s caught?” Lincoln opened his mouth, and Red glared at him. “If you say yes,
I swear to god…”
“You gonna ruin my credit?”
Red threw his arms up and grunted in frustration. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you. I thought you would be all for me going into town, for taking those steps.”
“Not when a lunatic is out there.”
“There’s always going to be lunatics,” Red argued. “You think once this person is caught that we’ll be safe? Another asshole will come along and start trouble. It’s just the way things work.”
And in trying to make his point, Red was forced to eat his own words. He could call Arturo and find out what had happened to those guys. He could stop living in fear and take his life back. He could stop cringing in the shadows and come out into the sun.
“Fine.” Red pulled his phone from his back pocket and hesitated. Once he made the call, there was no going back.
“Red.” Lincoln laid his hand on Red’s arm. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove anything to me or yourself.”
“Yes, I do.” Red dialed Arturo’s phone number and waited for the guy to pick up, all the while feeling as if he’d pass out.
“This is Arturo speaking.”
Red’s throat closed up on him. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a tiny squeak.
“Hello?”
Red cleared his throat. “Hey, Arturo.”
“Who is this?”
Well damn. “It’s Redford Cohen.”
A deep snarl erupted on the other end. “Whoever this is, I’m going to—”
“It’s really me, Red.”
“But I thought… I actually didn’t know what to think. I heard you get shot, twice. Then your body was gone. I searched, a lot of people searched, but we found nothing.”
“If I’m not going to the hospital, I’m going back inside,” Adam hollered.
“It’s a long story.” One that Red didn’t want to get into right now.
Lincoln snatched the phone before Red could stop him and put the call on speaker. “This is Lincoln Wheeler. I’m Red’s friend. He’s calling because we want to know what happened to those men who attacked him.”