Page 7 of Where They Belong

Wes flattened his mouth as he opened a cupboard and grabbed a coffee cup. “I heard what Grant said, not whatMasonsaid. You know as well as I do there are three sides to every story—”

“—my side, your side, and the truth,” Colt finished. While Colt knew that to be true nine times out of ten, he’d never applied that theory to his past with Mason Hayes. He’d been young, emotions high and intense, and the heartbreak had been severe and lasting.

He also didn’t want to acknowledge that his brother was right. He’d never heard directly from Mason. He’d tried calling Mason, but there was never any answer at the old ranch house—even at times when he knew Mason should be home. He couldn’t email because not only didn’t either of them have an email address, but there wasn’t even a computer on the ranch. The only time Colt had gotten through, it was Grant who’d answered and said Mason wanted nothing to do with him, that there was something wrong with Colt. It had been hard to believe Mason had said those things, but then, he’d never once tried to reach out to Colt afterward. As the years passed, Colt had begun to question if what they’d had was even real. If Mason had just been experimenting.

He rubbed at his chest again. Would the decades-old ache ever fully subside?

Wes filled his mug with the freshly brewed coffee Colt had forgotten all about, distracted by Nick’s call. “Don’t you think it’s time—”

“Time for what?” Levi interrupted. He wandered into the kitchen wearing nothing more than a pair of faded jeans, scrubbing absently at his belly. He opened the fridge and pulled out a jug of orange juice. “And who called?”

“Get a glass.” Colt ignored Levi’s questions while knowing full well his youngest brother would disregard his request. Again.

“Sheriff Nick Chambers called with a job for us, but Colt turned it down,” Wes informed Levi while keeping his gaze on Colt.

“What?” Levi turned around at stared at Colt, eyebrows raised, juice jug suspended halfway to his mouth. “Why would you do that?”

Colt’s throat tightened. Levi would never understand. He didn’t know the true story.

“It’s Haverstall Mountain Ranch.”

Levi was quiet for a moment. His gaze went distant before clearing. His eyes, as blue as Colt’s own but somehow brighter, lit up even more. “Oh! The ranch we lived on in Colorado when we were kids?”

Colt nodded, unable to say more.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Levi said excitedly. “I loved it there.”

Colt studied his brothers. So much like him but also not. Both he and Levi had dark hair, blue eyes, and stocky builds. While Wes had gray-blue eyes, his hair was strawberry blond, and he was lean like a runner. Of the three of them, Wes was the only one who took after their mother.

After all these years, Colt couldn’t deny he wondered what Mason would be like now. How his life had turned out. If he’d ever learned to stand up to his father. But at the same time, the last person he ever wanted to see again was Mason Hayes. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to the ranch that had changed the course of his life—and his family’s—and relive memories that he knew would dance around him like dust drifting on the ever-present breeze.

Colt sighed and dragged a hand over his face. “I don’t know.”

“It’s our job, after all,” Wes added, “to protect people.”

He knew Wes was right. Mason’s life was in danger, and it was their job to protect lives. Even Mason’s. No matter how hurt and angry he’d been all those years ago, the thought of Mason being injured, or worse, wasn’t something he could allow.

Against his better judgment, Colt caved. He threw his hands in the air.

“Fine. We’ll take the damn job.”

Mason sat on the front veranda of his house and inhaled deeply. He held his breath to let the fresh spring air cleanse him from the inside out before exhaling long and slow. Birds sang merrily in the trees that created a natural privacy screen in front of his house—not that privacy was needed on a seventeen-thousand-acre spread.

His house was the same one he’d grown up in, but he’d renovated and updated it after his dad had passed. The house sat southwest of the main ranching activities, where three barns—a small barn for guests and their horses, a larger barn for the horses that belonged to Mason, his sisters, and staff, and a state-of-the-art medical barn to care for the rescued horses—a machinery garage, his sister’s house, and the ranch hands’ quarters were clustered around a large keyhole-shaped courtyard. On the long driveway that met up with Route 103 were two more houses and a cabin. Farther out on the property were a few more cabins. Most were rented seasonally or for special events.

And as far as the eye could see was a rugged wilderness that fed Mason’s soul. And today, his soul needed that wild peace.

Both dogs were lying at his feet, as though they, too, knew he needed their quiet comfort. The morning had been busy and emotionally exhausting after Lance Goodrow, an officer with the Colorado Humane Society, called. They’d seized three neglected horses in need of a safe place to land.

While Mason was grateful his ranch could be that landing—which was the purpose of it when he took over, after all—the condition the horses arrived in had broken his heart. They were skin and bones, their manes matted, coats covered in mud and sores, discharge running from their eyes and noses, and hooves horribly unmaintained. He’d be surprised if their body condition scores were higher than two, at best, when in good health they should be between four and six on a scale of one to nine. Their heads hung low when they were led out of the trailer, listless and defeated, and their eyes dull and flat.

He would never understand how humans could be so goddamn cruel to another living being. But the capacity these majestic animals had to forgive and learn to trust again amazed him every single time. It made so much of the heartbreak worth it to watch the light in their eyes and their spirits return. That’s what kept him going.

Marley lifted her head, ears perked, and a second later, Diesel copied her pose. Mason followed the line of their attention to see dust rising in the distance over the treetops, nature’s warning system that someone was headed down the long dirt drive to the main ranch. He gritted his teeth, in no mood for another visit from Jack. Fortunately, a clearing between the trees and the barns revealed Nick’s white Interceptor SUV escorting a big blue truck-and-trailer rig to the large circular courtyard.

He stood from his chair with a sigh as the dogs took off to greet Nick and glanced at his watch.How is it only noon?

He’d forgotten the security team was arriving today and really wasn’t in the mood to deal with them either. He stretched his back and then stepped down from the deck to meet the new arrivals.

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