Page 31 of The Map Home
“Talking to Dakota, what does it look like?”
Boone rolled his eyes. “Dakota.”
“Boone,” Dakota said.
“What are you doing standing around? Don’t you have criminals to chase after, parking tickets to hand out?”
It seemed to Tad that his irritating brother was trying to shift the conversation away from himself and Amanda by starting something with Dakota. Since it was Boone, he wasn’t sure if he was being suspicious or clueless.
“Did you hear that all the toys for kids were stolen?” Tad interjected. “Mom and Dad are in town this morning, and they don’t look happy.”
“Did you talk to them already?” Boone asked, shifting from one booted foot to the other, his attention somewhere over Tad’s left shoulder.
“I’m working on a story for Curtis,” Tad said by way of answer. Boone was up to something, and he didn’t want their folks to know what it was. Well, Tad was going to find out before he did something epically stupid.
“Newsboy,” Boone sneered and rolled his eyes. It was no secret what he thought of Tad’s chosen career.
“You know what, Boone?” Dakota had been quiet, but now he pulled himself to his full height, clearly done with Boone’s attitude. After a post-high school growth spurt, Dakota hadfinally topped out at six foot four inches, and he towered over Boone. Which Boone hated. He towered over Tad too—but Tad liked it.
“I don’t give a fuck what you think about me, but Tad is really good at what he does. Good enough that Curtis trusts him to take over the paper while he’s recovering from his accident and surgery. What’s your problem with that? Is it that you aren’t brave enough to do something on your own? Are you jealous that Tad has his own career and isn’t working for Mommy and Daddy like you?”
Boone’s eyes narrowed and he recoiled, stung by the accusation. A heavy silence blocked out the tinkling holiday music and chatter from people nearby.
Tad’s lungs started to hurt. He realized he was holding his breath, wondering what the hell was going to happen next, while also memorizing the compliment so he could recall it later.
“Fuck you, Dakota,” Boone finally snarled. “You’re just a screwed-up loser. You’re lucky to be wearing a uniform. Sheriff Morgan felt sorry for you, that’s the only explanation. It’s no wonder your mo?—”
Tad interrupted his brother before he could say any more. “Do not finish that sentence, Boone. Go away and leave us alone. Go do whatever you came to town for and then go back to the ranch. Maybe they need you there for something.” He couldn’t imagine what it could be, but anything was better than having Boone anywhere near Dakota and him.
Forcing himself not to look over at Dakota, Tad glared at his brother, silently begging him to shut the fuck up and leave.
Boone seemed to get the message. Or, at least, he thought better of pursuing the current line of conversation. Without saying goodbye, he stomped off in the same direction their parents had gone. Tad almost said something about running intotheir folks. Almost. But hey, Boone was a grown man, and he could deal with Mom and Dad on his own.
“He is such an asshole,” Tad said. “Sometimes I wonder if he’s even related to the rest of us.”
“Boone looks just like your dad,” Dakota pointed out.
“Yeah, I know. It’s depressing.”
“You know,” Dakota began, “you don’t need to stand up for me. I can do it for myself. I’m perfectly aware that many people, including Boone, think I got the job as a favor or something.”
“But you didn’t get it as a favor. You worked hard, you proved yourself.”
Tad was worked up, angry with his stupid brother for trying to hurt Dakota, for trying to make him feel less and reduce him down to a kid whose mother had abandoned him. All thoughts of water rights and maybe-shady developments and missing toys had been banished from his thoughts.
“Ihatethat people might think that, and aboutyou, of all people. People are so stupid! Especially Boone. I think Mom dropped him on his head and forgot to tell anyone.”
A funny, unnamable smile quirked Dakota’s lips as he watched Tad wind himself up for a rant.
“Tad,” Dakota said quietly, stopping him before he could really get started.
“What?” he snapped.
They were standing in the shadows of the old Mercks building, a gorgeous red brick structure that had housed the other newspaper back when Collier’s Creek had two of them. That paper had been gone since before Tad was born.
Dakota was staring at him, the strange expression still on his face.
“What?” Tad repeated impatiently.
