Page 73
Hank looked at him. “Alberta, huh? I was gonna ask if you worked the rigs or if you were a ranch kid. Or both.”
Mac shrugged. “Sorry. Just a ranch kid, not a rig pig.”
Hank grinned. “Just a ranch kid. Never apologize for being useful.” Hank pulled off his gloves. “Come on. We’ll run into town.”
Jodie was with Willow on the other side of the property going over horse records and observation plans, so Mac texted her before climbing into Hank’s pickup.
Heading into town with Hank. Back soon.
She responded with a heart emoji.
Hank took the grab handle and swung himself up into the truck, left foot first, and brought the right up after it without the ankle bending at all.
Below the knee. Right side.
Hank caught him looking, but said nothing, just started the truck. Eighties rock blared from the speakers, and he turned it down. Mac faced front and reached for his seatbelt.
They had barely reached the county road when Hank asked, “What do you do now? Still ranching?”
“No. I work in security out of Lyons.”
“Lyons?”
“Little town on the Front Range near Boulder.”
“Ah, yeah. Thought it sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. So. Alberta ranch kid to Canadian Forces to bodyguard in Colorado.”
“There was another stop in between. RCMP.”
Hank chuckled. “Mountie.” He nodded to himself. “That tracks. You’re quiet, but nothing gets past you. And you’re as good with the horses as anyone I’ve seen.”
Mac looked over. Hank drove with one elbow propped against the door, relaxed but alert. Was that an opening to ask about Hank’s leg? He thought he’d start vague, in case he was wrong. “What about you?”
“Ranch to Army and back to ranch again.”
“That simple?”
Hank snorted. “No.”
Mac waited.
Hank glanced at him and smiled faintly. “You really were military.”
“Sometimes shutting up works.”
“Wish somebody had taught my therapists that,” Hank muttered without much humor in his voice. A mile later, he said, “Place was my dad’s. Granddad’s before that.” He slid his thumb along the wheel. “Dad had it under contract while I was overseas. Signed papers, earnest money, the whole thing.” The corner of his mouth turned up like a fishhook had snagged it. “Old bastard.”
Mac turned his head to study him. “I take it you didn’t agree with selling?”
“That’s an understatement.” Hank checked his mirror. “He waited until I was deployed. Didn’t care that I have a son it should go to after I’m gone.”
“You have a son?”
Hank nodded. “Ethan. He’s military, too. Green Beret.”
“No shit?”
Hank grinned with obvious pride. “No shit.” His grin faded. “He’s a good man. But I don’t hear much from him. I missed a lot of him growing up. His mom divorced me, raised Ethan away from the ranch mostly. I’d get him some summers, if I was Stateside. The ranch goes to him when I’m gone, the way it should be.”
