Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
As Rhett ladles hearty-looking stew into my bowl, I look around at the four extra chairs at the table. “Is it just the three of you here?” The question slips out before I ask myself whether it’s too personal.
Rhett’s hand goes still for a split second, Boone’s smile flags, and Cade pauses with his water glass halfway to his mouth.
“Yes,” Rhett says. “Just us.”
I feel the boundary in his answer and don’t go any further.
With his grin back in place, Boone says, “No wives or girlfriends, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He meets my eyes and holds eye contact to let me know there’s a reason he’s telling me this, and I wonder, not for the first time, if Boone even realizes he’s flirting, or if it’s just habit for him.
I shouldn’t let myself be so affected by it.
The stew has tender beef, potatoes, carrots, and herbs, and tastes as good as it smells. On the side, there are biscuits and butter. It’s simple, and better than anything I’ve eaten in quite a while.
Out on the trail, the brothers eat quickly and efficiently. Now, their pace is slower, and I get the impression the adjustment is for my benefit; otherwise, they’d all be done and just watching me eat.
As it is, all of them watch me quite a bit. They do it on the trail, where I assume it’s part of their job as my guides. Now, their attention makes heat gather in places I’m trying hard not to think about.
“Did you build this cabin?” I ask, to redirect my mind to safer places. It seems like a safe question, but it changes the mood at the table.
CHAPTER 6
WREN
“Our father started it,” Rhett says. “We finished it.” He says it like something heavy, and it’s obvious there’s more to the story.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“You didn’t,” Boone says. His tone isn’t as easy as it usually is, and he sounds more like his brothers.
“Our parents died while we were deployed,” Rhett says.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, more gently. The information makes me view their home differently. This cabin isn’t just lacking unnecessary comforts and warmth. It’s three men living in a place their father began, finishing what was left behind. Maybe it doesn’t even feel fully like theirs.
Boone refills my water without asking, Cade reaches for another biscuit, and Rhett tips his bowl to scoop up the last spoonful of stew.
“So where are we headed tomorrow?” Boone’s usual voice is back, shifting the conversation to lighter territory.
“I brought my map. I’d like to get your input,” I say.
When we’re all finished eating, Rhett clears the table, again refusing my offer to help. Boone pours coffee for all of us, and Cade disappears, only to return a moment later with a topographic map that’s larger than mine. It turns out to be better than mine, too, with pencil notes he’s added that provide a lot of useful information about the terrain.
“What are your preliminary findings?” Rhett asks.
I meet his eyes and pause. I’d been so busy convincing myself this was a business dinner, yet I hadn’t decided how much business I actually wanted to share.
“I want to be careful about this,” I say as I lay my map over Cade’s. “Three days of fieldwork aren’t enough to make conclusions.”
“Understood.” Rhett’s tone tells me he does understand, and it makes me more willing to keep going.
“Wildlife is moving through the region, but their expected paths are off,” I say. “It could be seasonal or due to natural variation, but the pattern bothers me.”
“Which is?” Rhett asks.
“The affected areas line up along corridors that connect remote passes to old access roads.”
“Mark the areas,” Rhett says. Then, after a beat, he adds, “Please.”
As I do, Cade’s jaw tightens, and the men exchange glances I can’t read. Boone loses every trace of easy charm, and Cade goes so still, he looks carved from the same wood as the walls. Their interest is clearly more than casual.
I stop with my pencil over the map. “You’re seeing something.”
Rhett’s mouth is a thin, flat line as he looks at the lines I drew, and for a moment, I think he won’t answer. Then he says, “We’re seeing the terrain differently.”
I look around at each of them, and instead of seeing three backcountry guides considering routes, I now see three former soldiers who are looking at my map like it’s just become a battlefield.
Whatever they’re thinking, they don’t say it. As a unit, they’re infuriatingly unreadable.
I lower the pencil again. “Do you know something that affects my work?”
Rhett’s voice is careful when he answers. “We don’t want our guesses contaminating your report.”
It’s the same thing I told him when I was collecting samples of the unidentified residue today, so how can I argue?
I stare at him for a long moment, trying not to get lost in the rich brown of his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything else. Cade and Boone are silent, too.