Stars & Stripes
Page 22

It could have been a coincidence that Zane had found new life and Ty at the same time, but Harrison didn’t put much stock in coincidences.
Ty was smoking a thin cigar, holding it in his left hand. He put it in his mouth and knocked on his cast in frustration. “Show me one more time, then I’ll try it lefty. Unless you’d like to cut this off.”
Zane looked him up and down and started to speak, but he stopped himself. Then he rolled his eyes. “You’re stalling.”
“I’m not stalling. I’m learning.”
“You’re bullshitting.”
“Don’t they call it horseshitting down here?”
“Come on, if you’re not going to try this, I’ll show you how to saddle the horse instead.”
Ty pointed his good hand at the doors to the barn, where Harrison stood. “I’m not going back in there with that horse.”
Zane flopped the rope against his thigh. “Ty, the horses are not conspiring against you.”
Ty crossed his arms and shook his head. “He looks at me. And he talks to me! And he knows I don’t know what he’s saying!”
Zane squinted at him. “Okay. I think you’ve been out in the sun a little too long.”
Harrison cleared his throat, unable to keep from laughing.
Ty flinched and straightened, pushing off the hitching post. “Hello, sir,” he said as he put out his cheroot on the denim of his jeans.
Harrison smirked. Zane had managed to go off to New York City and find someone who would have fit in on the ranch almost seamlessly. And it was obvious, even if they were trying to be subtle, that the two of them were very much in love. Harrison had never known the feeling, but he’d seen it often enough to recognize it.
Zane came over, reaching out to offer an arm. “Dad. How are you feeling?”
“Winded,” Harrison admitted. He took Zane’s arm and leaned on him. “What are you boys up to?”
“Zane was showing off for me,” Ty said with a smile.
“I was trying to teach him how to rope.”
“I can’t imagine he’ll learn much, way he was staring at you.”
Ty looked away, but even the hot summer sun couldn’t mask the blush creeping over the man.
Harrison smiled. “Take a walk with me, huh?”
“Sure,” Zane said as he tossed his heavy rope toward the saddle on the fence.
“I’ll just, uh . . . I’ll be inside.” Ty jerked his thumb toward the barn door. “Talking to the horse.”
“No, you too.”
Ty raised an eyebrow but moved closer. “Of course, sir.”
“I hear you boys had a little rough-and-tumble at the bar last night.”
Zane sneered. “Yeah, some jackass tried to pick a fight.”
“I hear you two didn’t entertain it. I’m glad. People been talking good about you today.”
“Really?” Zane glanced at Ty, eyebrows climbing higher.
Harrison nodded. “Ty, tell me something. Do your mama and daddy know about you and my son?”
Ty blinked at him and looked down at his feet. “Yes, sir, they do.”
“And what do they think of it?”
“Well . . . they were upset that I misled them for so long. I should’ve told them years ago.”
“What are you getting at, Dad?”
“Ty, here, he has impressive manners. I think I’d like to meet the people who taught him. I was just trying to see if they reacted like Beverly is sure to and stormed out when you told them, or if they’d want to meet me too.”
Harrison reached out to take Ty’s arm for some extra support. Ty’s shoulders were tense, and Harrison couldn’t read his expression until he gave a half-smile. “I’m sure they’d be happy to meet you.”
Harrison nodded, and was about to respond when Ty stopped walking. Harrison slowed, and Zane came around to look back at Ty. The man was staring into the darkened doorway of one of the outbuildings.
“Ty?” Zane whispered, hand going to his gun. Apparently, Zane acted on such cues from his partner a lot, treating him like a well-trained hunting dog.
Ty held out one hand. “Sir, may I go in there?”
Harrison glanced at the shed with a raised brow and nodded. “Sure.”
Ty advanced on the doorway. Inside was a stack of junk, old parts and rows of rusted tools spread around a ratty canvas tarp. The shape of the bulk beneath the tarp was barely discernible, but Harrison knew what was in there. From the looks of him, Ty Grady knew as well.
Ty edged up to the front of the tarp and put a gentle hand on it, bending until his eyes were level with the expanse of canvas. He looked back at Harrison and Zane, hazel eyes shining. “Do you know what’s under here?”
Zane shook his head, though he appeared more interested in Ty’s reaction than he had ever been in the storage sheds.
Harrison smirked. “Why don’t you tell us what it is?”
“If I’m not mistaken,” Ty said, a hint of anticipation in his voice, “this is an early model Mustang GT. Look at the lines and the curve of the hood there.”
Harrison laughed, surprised by Ty’s accuracy. “Lift it up, son.”
Zane moved to help, and he and Ty rolled the canvas tarp back, revealing the rusted-out carcass of the old classic beneath.
Harrison watched, fascinated. The car had fallen into disrepair and had been sitting in the old shed for three decades, waiting for someone to come along and see the beauty in her. No one in the family had ever possessed the time, inclination, or skill to see her for what she was. Harrison had known; he’d just never been able to raise a hand for her.
The original paint had been blasted away, leaving a dull gray primer. She had no wheels, no insignia, and no interior. The hood scoop had mice nesting in it. The grill was full of straw.
Ty fell to a knee and put both hands on the grill. “She’s a ’67 fastback, Zane,” he said, his voice a reverent whisper. “Oh my God, she’s beautiful.”
Zane laughed as he looked over the old heap. “If you say so, doll.”
Ty ran his hands over the body, as gentle as if he were stroking a baby’s cheek. “A little bit of time and effort, and she would be.” He got back to his feet and disappeared into the darkness of the shed, pulling the tarp off the rest of the car.
Zane came to stand beside Harrison, smiling and shaking his head.
“Oh my God, she’s a Shelby!” Ty called from somewhere in the dark.
Zane began to laugh, smile lines streaking his handsome face. His eyes filled with joy and warmth, and his frame relaxed. Harrison hadn’t seen his son like this since he’d been a boy.
Harrison peered back into the darkness. “Ty, come on back out here,” he called.
Ty edged his way out to them, looking chastised and letting his fingers slide along the car’s rough exterior as he moved. “Sorry,” he offered when he reached them. His eyes were still alight, though, and he was gazing at the car with sincere admiration.
Zane put a hand on Ty’s shoulder. “Ty enjoys bringing old things back to life.”
Harrison narrowed his eyes. “Ty.”
Ty ripped his gaze away from the Mustang. “Sir?”
“I want you to have that car.”
“Excuse me?”
“She’s been sitting here for thirty years. A piece of work like that deserves someone who loves it. Someone who sees it as special even when it looks like that.”
He looked from the car to his son. The expression on Zane’s face was both hopeful and heartbreaking. He was holding his breath. Harrison met Ty’s eyes. Ty was holding his breath too.
“I can see you’re a man who looks beneath the surface. And if you can do for that car what you did for my son, well . . . it’ll be in good hands.” Harrison glanced from him to the Mustang, and then gave Zane a sly smile. “Consider her a . . . welcome-to-the-family gift.”
Zane put a hand on Harrison’s shoulder. “Dad? Really?”
Harrison nodded, and Zane gave him a fierce hug, barely remembering to be careful of his injury.
“Thank you, sir,” Ty said, clearly stunned.
Harrison held out a hand to him. “You brought my son back and turned him into a beautiful thing. I expect you’ll take the same care with that ol’ Hoss.”
“Yes, sir,” Ty choked out as he shook Harrison’s hand.
“I’ll call this afternoon and arrange for delivery to Baltimore.” Harrison clapped him on the shoulder, then turned and patted Zane on the chest before walking away. “Breakfast is in a few minutes. Annie and Mark are riding out with us.”
“Ty’s skipping breakfast,” Zane called back. “He’s heading back to the cat place to play with his tiger.”
“Interview the interns,” Ty corrected.
“Have fun with your tiger, Ty,” Harrison called.
Ty’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you, sir.”
Harrison chuckled. When he looked again, Ty had Zane by the hand and was dragging him toward the old Mustang. Zane only managed to stop Ty’s excited ramblings by grabbing his face and kissing him.
Harrison had never seen Zane happier or more at home than he was with Ty’s arms wrapped around him. Even when he’d been with Becky, he’d never lit up quite like he did now.
Harrison nodded and turned away. That was enough for his peace of mind.
Ty sat on the front steps, waiting for everything to be prepared so they could ride the freaking horses out to where Harrison had been shot.
He didn’t know anything about horses, and he only had one good hand, so he couldn’t help much. He just sat and observed as he finished the cheroot he’d been smoking before breakfast. It fended off the horse smell.
Harrison stopped outside the stable to exchange a few words with Zane, something that made Zane smile. Ty blew a ring of smoke into the air, watching it float away and enlarge to frame Zane and his father in the distance. Harrison waved a hand and headed into the barn. Zane turned and walked toward Ty. No, he sauntered. Ty loved what Texas was doing to Zane.
Zane grinned when he saw Ty watching him, but Ty sneered back. He loved Zane, but he hated horses. He hated smelling horses. He hated looking at horses. He hated riding horses. He hated falling off horses.
“You sure you don’t want to just hog-tie me and drag me behind you? I might enjoy it more.”
“I don’t know, that’s awfully tempting.” Zane stopped in front of him, his hands in his pockets. “But I’m betting either way, your ass is toast.”
“Don’t you have some sort of motorized . . . dune buggy thing?” Ty asked. “Or I could walk.”
“Ty, is there some past history with horses here that I don’t know about? Like with motorcycles?”
“No.” Ty lowered his head as a wave of embarrassment passed through him. Zane arched an eyebrow and waited. Ty shifted uncomfortably. “I just . . . really don’t like horses.”
“Good. Then I can torture you without feeling bad.”
Ty crushed what was left of his cheroot on the heel of his boot. “Jackass.”
“What’d you find out at the Sanctuary?”
Ty shrugged. “All the interns were scared shitless of me. They also smelled like granola. None of them struck me as the type to be part of this. Three of them were crying by the time I was done asking questions.”
“Ty.”
“I was nice, I swear! They don’t even know they’re suspects; they were upset about the tigers.”
“But it screams inside job.”
Ty shrugged. “A volunteer, maybe? I don’t know. It’s not exactly Fort Knox over there.”
Zane nodded and sighed. Then he smirked and looked at Ty over his sunglasses. “Did you get to see your tiger?”
Ty couldn’t help but laugh. “They’re tame, Zane. It’s amazing. I mean, I wouldn’t want to meet one on a dark mountaintop, but when they’re in their enclosure and feel safe, they’re like big kittens. Barnum even stood on his hind legs and hugged me.”
Zane shook his head. “I refuse to live with any more evil cats. It’s him or me.”
Ty made a show of thinking it over. Zane kicked dust at him and Ty laughed as he ducked away.
“How is it that you can love cats so much and hate all other forms of animal?”
Ty frowned. “I don’t hate all other animals.”
“Horses. Dogs. Chipmunks.”
“They’re twitchy, Zane. And chipmunks have shifty eyes.”
“Moths?”
“They have erratic flight patterns!”
Zane doubled over, laughing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath.
Ty glared at him. “I’m glad my phobias amuse you.”
“Just the fact that someone like you has a chipmunk phobia amuses me,” Zane gasped.
“What’d you find out from your dad’s guys?” Ty asked, raising his voice to get Zane’s attention.
Zane wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. “Nothing. A couple of them said they’d heard rumors of weird things about Cactus Creek hands, but that was it. They’re pretty reticent to talk when they know I’m the law.”
“Yeah, Big Iron,” Ty said with a grin.
“Shut up. I thought maybe you could work your magic as we ride, see if you can get anything from them.”
Ty stood and stretched. “I’ll give it a go.” He smiled slyly and added, “Let’s get this dog and pony show on the road then.”
“Oh, come on,” Zane grunted. “I thought you hated puns.”