same thing, though his mama had pounded in the need for
please
and
thank you
as soon as he’d returned.
They sat in chairs with their backs to a wall and a view of the room. Julian would probably never grow out of doing that.
“You still planning to head back to Mexico?” Julian asked once they’d ordered their drinks.
“Damn straight. I will find out the truth.”
When Rath set his mind to something, he wouldn’t be swayed. Julian knew it was pointless to argue, and after being on the receiving end of persuasion, he wasn’t about to try. So he simply said, “Make sure it’s about justice and not revenge.”
“What’s the diff?”
“Justice will keep your head straight. Revenge will skew your judgment.”
Rath nodded, and they ordered when the waitress returned with their brews. “I don’t want to think about anything other than the road for the next month.”
Julian lifted his beer in a toast. “Here’s to Route 66 and two rogue SEALs.” After Rath clinked their mugs hard enough to send the head sloshing over the edge, Julian took a long drink. He didn’t want to think about anything beyond the road, either. But he was thinking about it anyway. He was thinking about justice. Purpose.
Justiss.
Chapter 6
Knox Logan had been back home on the family’s ranch for two weeks before rallying the guts to go to the place where his sister’s body had washed up at the south end of the property. Funny, he’d seen death and blood and broken bodies, some of them comrades, but none of that had numbed him to a seventeen-year-old memory.
That’s because you were responsible. You don’t get to forget what she looked like, blue lips and pale skin, long hair a tangle of mud and leaves
.
In the two weeks since that ride to the river, he hadn’t been back to the forlorn spot where his mother had planted a cross. He didn’t need to see it; it lived in his mind, his nightmares.
He nudged his horse forward as he rode the fence line, checking for broken wires or downed posts. Funny how the only emotion he could ever feel was guilt. No, it wasn’t funny at all, come to think of it.
The Montana sky was as big and blue as he remembered, the mental picture he held on to whenever he was in some hellhole or another. The air was as clear, the plains as vast, and the distant mountains as impressive.
But the skies were beginning to darken as the sun sank beyond those ridges. He took note of where he’d left off and kicked Bojangles into a full-out gallop down the well-worn path through the evergreens. He fell into rhythm with the animal’s movements and felt something lift in his chest. The same feeling he got when he flew his plane. Freedom. Adrenaline. And a temporary lift in the heaviness of his being.
Too soon they broke out of the forest and into the pastures. As soon as Bojangles spotted the stables, he picked up speed. Knox’s older brother, Ethan, opened the gate, and the horse slowed as he neared the barn.
“How many spots for us to mend?” Ethan asked as he strode into the barn a minute later.
“Found ten.” Knox lifted his cell phone. “Got ’em marked on the GPS. We can head out tomorrow morning with the ATVs.”
“How were the bugs?”
“The size of small prey birds. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t forgotten bug spray.” Knox pulled his shirt away from his chest. “Not that it would have mattered. Probably would have sweated it off in about two minutes.” It was easy to bitch about the things that had annoyed him when he’d done this job as a kid. The heat, the bugs, getting poked by thorns and cut by barbed wire. Compared to what he’d suffered in the military, though, it wasn’t all that bad.
One of the ranch hands took the horse and led him away. Growing up, Knox and Ethan were those ranch hands doing all the grunge work. Logan Ranch had become successful enough to hire on guys to handle that kind of stuff.
Ethan nodded toward the house with a somber expression.
please
and
thank you
as soon as he’d returned.
They sat in chairs with their backs to a wall and a view of the room. Julian would probably never grow out of doing that.
“You still planning to head back to Mexico?” Julian asked once they’d ordered their drinks.
“Damn straight. I will find out the truth.”
When Rath set his mind to something, he wouldn’t be swayed. Julian knew it was pointless to argue, and after being on the receiving end of persuasion, he wasn’t about to try. So he simply said, “Make sure it’s about justice and not revenge.”
“What’s the diff?”
“Justice will keep your head straight. Revenge will skew your judgment.”
Rath nodded, and they ordered when the waitress returned with their brews. “I don’t want to think about anything other than the road for the next month.”
Julian lifted his beer in a toast. “Here’s to Route 66 and two rogue SEALs.” After Rath clinked their mugs hard enough to send the head sloshing over the edge, Julian took a long drink. He didn’t want to think about anything beyond the road, either. But he was thinking about it anyway. He was thinking about justice. Purpose.
Justiss.
Chapter 6
Knox Logan had been back home on the family’s ranch for two weeks before rallying the guts to go to the place where his sister’s body had washed up at the south end of the property. Funny, he’d seen death and blood and broken bodies, some of them comrades, but none of that had numbed him to a seventeen-year-old memory.
That’s because you were responsible. You don’t get to forget what she looked like, blue lips and pale skin, long hair a tangle of mud and leaves
.
In the two weeks since that ride to the river, he hadn’t been back to the forlorn spot where his mother had planted a cross. He didn’t need to see it; it lived in his mind, his nightmares.
He nudged his horse forward as he rode the fence line, checking for broken wires or downed posts. Funny how the only emotion he could ever feel was guilt. No, it wasn’t funny at all, come to think of it.
The Montana sky was as big and blue as he remembered, the mental picture he held on to whenever he was in some hellhole or another. The air was as clear, the plains as vast, and the distant mountains as impressive.
But the skies were beginning to darken as the sun sank beyond those ridges. He took note of where he’d left off and kicked Bojangles into a full-out gallop down the well-worn path through the evergreens. He fell into rhythm with the animal’s movements and felt something lift in his chest. The same feeling he got when he flew his plane. Freedom. Adrenaline. And a temporary lift in the heaviness of his being.
Too soon they broke out of the forest and into the pastures. As soon as Bojangles spotted the stables, he picked up speed. Knox’s older brother, Ethan, opened the gate, and the horse slowed as he neared the barn.
“How many spots for us to mend?” Ethan asked as he strode into the barn a minute later.
“Found ten.” Knox lifted his cell phone. “Got ’em marked on the GPS. We can head out tomorrow morning with the ATVs.”
“How were the bugs?”
“The size of small prey birds. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if I hadn’t forgotten bug spray.” Knox pulled his shirt away from his chest. “Not that it would have mattered. Probably would have sweated it off in about two minutes.” It was easy to bitch about the things that had annoyed him when he’d done this job as a kid. The heat, the bugs, getting poked by thorns and cut by barbed wire. Compared to what he’d suffered in the military, though, it wasn’t all that bad.
One of the ranch hands took the horse and led him away. Growing up, Knox and Ethan were those ranch hands doing all the grunge work. Logan Ranch had become successful enough to hire on guys to handle that kind of stuff.
Ethan nodded toward the house with a somber expression.
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