Tammy cleared her throat. “Jonah, it’s best to hold back information in case one of us is captured and is made to talk.”
By “someone,” she meant me. Still irritated, I left the room and walked out back. Ben had been right about the view: vast fields stretched all around me, with distant ranch houses dotting the landscape. I frowned at the old, dusty helicopter Ben had parked like an old car. I walked around it, wondering if it could still fly.
Tammy and Ben joined me a few minutes later.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Ben smiled broadly at the helicopter, which was once red before turning dusty brown.
“Can it still fly?” I asked.
Ben pursed his lips. “On paper, yes. Mary Sue loves the open sky, but I haven’t dared try her out for a while.”
Tammy shook her head. “Did you really call that rusty old thing Mary Sue?”
“I sure did, woman, and you should show some respect.”
“Don’t hold your breath. Jonah, we better get going.”
“Hold on now,” Ben said, “it’s still early. Have you ever ridden a horse, Jonah?”
“Once, when I was six.”
“It’s like riding a bike.”
“I fell from the horse.”
Ben twisted his lips. “We’ll take it slow, then.”
“Is this really the time?” Tammy asked him.
“It’s always the time for horseback riding. Jonah, come on.”
I knew it wasn’t about riding but about him wanting to talk to me. I followed him to the front of the house, where he showed me how to saddle one of the horses—an impressive brown beast he promised was as calm as a kitten, despite being named Storm. We slowly rode through fields that had been recently plowed. Once we reached an old wooden fence, we slowed to a halt. Ben climbed down and helped me as well. We went to lean on the fence, watching the faraway mountains.
“Those are the Sierra Nevada,” Ben said. “They get snowy in wintertime.”
“You wanted to show me the mountains?”
“Hardly.” He glanced at me, his face somber. “I wanted you to know that I’ve been in your shoes before.”
“Meaning?”
He slid his hand into his pocket, pulling out an old photo and handing it to me. A young, handsome man with a lot of freckles smiled at the camera, his arm around a much younger Ben. “That’s Elijah. We served at the Bureau together as field agents. I was good, but Elijah was phenomenal.”
Suspecting this story didn’t have a happy ending, I asked, “What happened to him?”
“An arrest gone wrong. Our intel claimed there were six gang members at the scene, but there were close to twenty. Elijah and three other agents were shot. He lay in a coma for a few weeks, and I had to pretend to be a colleague every time I visited him rather than what I truly was.”
“His lover?”
Ben nodded. “Three years and four months. Best years of my life. We thought that he would wake up and get better, but his system began to crash, and after one hellish day, it was over.”
I couldn’t look away from the sorrow and loss in Ben’s eyes. “How many knew you were together?”
“A few, but remember we’re talking about 1974. The few who knew had no idea what to say to me, and it wouldn’t have mattered either way.” He took the photo from my hand and smiled at it before sliding it into his pocket. “Now I’m an old man, and Elijah is forever young and full of freckles.” He cleared his throat and held my gaze. “You go after your man, and you bring him back safely. But don’t dare let anger guide your actions.Think. Every single step, you stop and youthink. You understand me, Junior?”
I nodded, eyes itching. “I’ll act smart.”
He stroked my cheek, his rugged skin comforting. “Good boy. Ready to ride back a bit faster?”
