Page 27 of Where They Belong

“Mornin’,” Colt said when he came into the kitchen.

He wore a chambray shirt that brought out the color of his eyes and stretched tantalizingly over his muscular shoulders and chest. His jeans were well-worn and comfortable-looking, and Mason’s gaze was drawn to the enticing bulge hidden beneath the denim. His stomach fluttered.

Mason cleared his throat and nodded, hoping Colt hadn’t noticed his perusal. He pushed the to-go cup of coffee he’d prepared for Colt across the island for him.

“Katie and Angela made us breakfast sandwiches and lunch for the trip.” Mason blamed the roughness in his voice on the early morning and not the mouthwatering sight of Colt Stonebraker.

“That was nice of them.” Colt took a sip of his coffee. He raised the mug in thanks as he swallowed.

Jesus, even his Adam’s apple moving up and down got Mason hot under the collar and made it harder for him to think.Ugh. Now he was thinking of hard things.

Mason turned away quickly and opened the fridge. The cool blast of refrigerated air was exactly what he needed at that moment. He grabbed the sandwiches, stuffed them into a paper bag, and tossed it toward Colt. He deftly caught the bag with one hand while holding his cup in the other.

“Ready?”

Colt nodded and took another sip as he turned for the front door.

Joined by Diesel and Marley, they walked in companionable silence toward the courtyard, where Mason and his team had hooked up two of his three stock trailers the night before. Cañon City was about a four-hour drive south, so they needed an early start to make their morning appointment. One thing he’d learned early on was to never be late for an appointment at Cañon City, as the holding corrals were on federal prison property and didn’t allow for flexibility. Rescheduling could take months.

They rounded the clearing as the rising sun cast a pastel veil of peach and pink and gold over the quiet earth. As beautiful as the morning was, a sense of apprehension slithered through his chest.

Something felt off.

“Stop,” Colt ordered, his voice firm.

Colt pressed his hand holding their bagged lunch against Mason’s chest to block him, and scanned the area with an intensity that Mason felt in his gut.

Levi entered the yard from the other direction, made eye contact with Colt, and after some odd psychic communication between the two brothers, his hand immediately went to his gun holster.

Colt held out the bag and his coffee toward Mason. “Take these.”

Mason juggled the two coffees and paper bag, while Colt made a circle gesture with his hand. Levi nodded and moved stealthily toward the two rigs.

Mason held his breath until Levi reappeared from behind one of the trailers a moment later and holstered his weapon.

“Clear,” Levi called out.

“Stay close,” Colt said to Mason.

They were a few feet from the rigs before it clicked in Mason’s head what didn’t look right.

“What the hell,” he bit out as he stalked closer.

The tires on the trailer were flat. He placed the coffees and lunch bag on the tire fender trim, and then walked around the first trailer, then the second. Every single tire on both trailers was completely deflated. The trucks were fine, but they were useless without the trailers. He didn’t have enough spare tires, and they’d never be able to find backup trailers in time.

Levi knelt to inspect one of the tires and stood with a frown. “They’ve been slashed.”

“Seriously?” Mason flapped his arms in the air. “What the actual fuck?”

He stormed over to where the third stock trailer was parked and Colt’s trailer beside that. All their tires were flat too. What was it with the person doing all these things? Instead of a steady escalation, they did things that annoyed him, then made him angry, then scared him, and then they went back to annoying. Last week was the first time he was honestly afraid, but now this? Pissed off was an understatement. Hampering his ability to help horses went off like a firebomb in his guts.

Trina and Brett, who would be driving the second trailer, arrived. They frowned as Mason stomped back to where Colt and Levi stood. They looked from Mason to Colt and Levi, to the trailers, and back to Mason.

“What happened now?” There was a note of fear in Trina’s voice, and Brett put his arm around her shoulders.

“Every goddamned tire is slashed,” Mason snapped and then clamped his jaw so tight he thought his teeth might crack. He kicked at one of the tires and looked at his watch. “How the hell are we going to save those mustangs now? We’ll be lucky if they reschedule us before the year is out.”

He had no idea why someone was harassing him. Why they were going to such lengths to make his life difficult. He was good to people and treated everyone he met with respect and kindness. He cared for animals that had been dealt a shitty hand in life and was a voice for those that didn’t have one. He tried to do his part to make the world a better place, yet somehow, for some reason, someone out there hated him so much they were making it their mission to fuck with him—toharmhim.

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