36. Colt
I’m God - Clams Casino, Imogen Heap
I’ll be back in a few days to replace the unit.
Just be careful with it until then.
Colt
Once I finish writing the note, I stick it on the refrigerator for the occupants of the new bunkhouse to see.
Having temporarily fixed the finicky waste disposal, I head out and jump astride Fen’s back after giving him an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen table.
As I do, I spy two of the occupants peeping through the folds of the drapes like I’m the Zodiac Killer reincarnate.
With a sigh, I set off for home.
The task took a lot less time than I figured so if Zee’s still game, we can ride before lunch.
The silence of the prairie, land that my forefathers roamed and ranched and laid claim to, lets me admit something to myself that I probably wouldn’t admit anywhere else—I want to see her on a horse.
I know which one too—Jas. Short for Jasmine. Callan named her when he was twelve. She’s a Camarillo. Pure white. No pink skin or undertones. Nothing gray about her coat.
Zee’ll look like some kind of faerie princess astride her.
The strange image plants itself behind my eyes, so I shutter them to better appreciate it as Fen plods back to the homestead, treading a path he could take with his own eyes shut.
When we make it there, I stable him and toss him another apple from the bag we leave hanging on a pillar.
Once he’s satisfied, I leave him and retreat to the house.
That’s when I hear laughter.
To be honest, I’ve heard more laughter in the past month than I’ve heard in years.
Now that Mum’s back, the atmosphere is lighter all round. But I’m used to hearing Callan and Zee laugh too.
It’s a nice thing to come home to.
Nicer than I could have imagined.
Feeling like a numbnut, I toss my hat on the stand in the hall then stride over to the source of the noise—the kitchen.
Which is when I hear Cody’s voice.
I rush in, absorb the rare sight of him at the kitchen table, and grin. “You dickhead. You never told me you were coming home!”
Cody chuckles but he doesn’t get up, instead wiggles a crutch at me. “It was unexpected.”
Zee clears her throat. “He’s been in a car crash.”
I gape at him. “Tell me you’re kidding? You spend God knows how many hours in a cockpit but you get injured in a car?!”
“Don’t sound disappointed.” He slugs me in the arm as I take a seat next to him. “Broken tibia-fibula. Nightmare. Had surgery and everything. Two more weeks with the crutch then I’m done.”
“Jesus. You’re an asshole for not telling us sooner,” I snap, but a soft thud sounds in front of me—a mug of coffee. I flick a glance at Zee. “Thanks, Zee.”
Her smile’s shy as she turns to the counter where I see she has all the fixings for sandwiches.
My brow lifts. “Have you got my wife making sandwiches for you?”
“Your wife,” he mouths.
I scowl at him.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” Zee reassures us both.
He smirks.
“As far as I can tell, your hands aren’t broken.”
“I was getting to know your wife.”
My scowl darkens.
His smirk deepens.
A dish is settled on the table in front of Cody. But her hand lands on my shoulder and she asks, “Would you like a sandwich too?”
I peer at her. “Do you mind?”
Her lips twist. “If you want something fancy, then you can rely on Ida…”
“He’s the one who introduced me to peanut butter and fluff, Zee,” Cody half-croons, urging another frown out of me.
Not the words. Just the tone.
He elbows me when I don’t reply so I clear my throat. “Sounds great.” I flick a look at her, watching as she puts together another sandwich. “When did you get in?”
“Saskatoon? This morning. The ranch, two hours ago.”
“You should have told me. I’d have flown you here.”
“Thought I’d spare you the backseat driving,” he counters.
“So gracious of you,” I mock. ”How long are you here for?”
Taking a bite, he shrugs. “Dunno.”
“You don’t have to ride a desk? Or can you stay home as you recuperate?”
“I can stay home.”
Frowning at him when he doesn’t open up, I start to ask him what the hell’s going on, but Zee places the dish in front of me before I get the chance.
I don’t think about what I’m doing. I snag a hold of her wrist—that’s the second I feel her racing pulse.
I stroke the soft, velvety skin with my thumb and feel it stutter then kick back into high gear. “Do you still want to go riding?”
Her long lashes shield those gorgeous green eyes of hers.
God, she’s beautiful.
Zee flicks a look at Cody. “Um, are you sure? Don’t you want to?—”
“Hang out with him?” I scoff. “No.”
“Thanks, bro.”
Ignoring him, I stare at her. “How about in an hour?”
“U-Um, yeah. Sounds good. I-I’ll… I don’t have any boots.”
“Just wear sneakers. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t, and Cody can keep bigger secrets than that.” I wink at her. “We’ll get you some the next time we’re in town. I have to head that way in the next couple days. Want to come with me?”
Her cheeks flush. “Sounds good. Okay. I’ll be down shortly.” A whisper of vulnerability appears in her eyes. “You’ll wait for me?”
I smile at her. “I promise.”
She nods again, gives a small wave to Cody, then heads out of the kitchen.
Yes, I watch her go.
I only live like a monk; I’m not one.
Cody whistles. “You have it bad, brother dearest.”
There’s no point in lying. I shove him in the side, hard enough he almost falls off his chair. “What’s with the flirting, asswipe?”
“I was being nice!” he grumbles, settling himself on his seat before punching me in the shoulder. “Also, OW. That hurt, dick.”
“You were flirting. ‘He’s the one who introduced me to peanut butter and fluff, Zee,’” I mock.
“Firstly, that sounds nothing like me. Secondly, you have it worse than I thought if you can get jealous over the most asinine sandwich in the world.” He takes a big bite. “Callan was right.”
“He often is, the little shit. But about what?”
“This being a business arrangement but you’d be good for each other.”
“And you figure that how? At least Callan’s hung out with her!”
“I did too,” he defends. “You’re both so fucking nice, it’s sickening. Both packed with guilt for shit you didn’t do and overcompensating when you’ve nothing to compensate for. Hero complexes?—”
“Says the goddamn soldier,” I deride with a huff.
“So I’m perfectly placed to make the diagnosis,” he states smugly. “You’re both sweeter than this fluff. Honestly, it’s puke-inducing. Callan was right about that too. Why are you pussyfooting around her? That’s what I don’t understand. You’re obviously not screwing?—”
“Don’t talk about my wife like that.”
His grin is slow. “‘My wife’ again, huh? Mr. Possessive.”
I grit my teeth. “It’s the only thing I’m allowed in this relationship.”
He cups his ear. “Say that louder for the people in the back.”
“You heard me.”
“So, you want more?”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“I mean, she is beautiful. Who knew the McAllisters made girls so pretty, huh? Maybe if our ancestors had fucked, we wouldn’t have been at each other’s throats for centuries. Why steal a dozen steers when you could marry the enemy?”
“She’s not the enemy.”
“Naw, she’s ‘your wife,’” he mocks, including the finger quotes and everything.
I scowl at him and start eating.
“You both like each other, so why haven’t you made your move?”
“Because this isn’t Sweet Home Alabama.”
“Sweet Home Pigeon Creek doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
“No. It doesn’t,” I agree. “We’re in this for one reason only.”
“So what’s with the puppy-dog eyes as you ask her to go riding with you?”
Trust him to call me on my bullshit. “Why did you come home again?”
“And the invitation to go into town? Sounds like a date to me.”
My scowl darkens. “Condoms.”
“Huh?”
“Condoms. Mum and Clyde should have used them more often.”
His smirk is unrepentant. “Are you dating your wife, Colt?”
“Why are you home?”
“Because I initiated the release process.” He coughs. “A few months ago.”
“What?!”
“It was time.”
Gaping at him, I sputter, “Time?!”
“Yeah. I’m getting old and I don’t want to ride a desk.”
“You wouldn’t quit. Not unless you were pushed.”
“Another hospital stay sealed the deal,” he admits dryly. “Spent so much time in a hospital room that if I never see another, it’ll be too soon.”
“So, it wasn’t a car crash.”
Not a question.
His gaze is amused. “Not unless the car was worth three hundred million dollars.”
“You crashed it?”
“Excuse me. I’ve never crashed a plane. Some fuckwit over the Baltics decided to steer into me.”
“The Baltics, huh?”
He arches a brow at me. “Hotbed of tension.”
“War’s brewing?”
“Isn’t it always.”
“You don’t want to be involved this time?”
“Probably makes me a coward, but no.”
“How are you a coward? All those medals you have weren’t given to you because of your ugly face.”
He pulls said face.
“Nor was it because you’re a Korhonen. The name means dick in the CAF?*.”
He plops his sandwich on his plate. “True dat.”
I watch as he rubs the back of his neck. “I thought you had to go through a bunch of interviews?—”
“I did.”
“And you didn’t think to tell us about being injured?”
“What was the point in worrying you?”
“You’re an asshole, do you know that? I have a father who sneezes and wants me at his bedside, but you crash a plane?—”
“—I didn’t crash the damn plane?—”
“—and I don’t get a notice from the RCAF?*.” Anger ripples through me. “Family automatically gets notified.”
“Pops visited.”
My mouth tightens. “And didn’t tell us.”
“Asked him not to.”
“He listened?”
“He listens to me.”
God, he’s such an asshole.
I know where Cody gets it from.
Rubbing the bridge of my nose as I seek patience, I ask, “You okay?”
Cody and I used to be close, but too many deployments messed with that. Once upon a time, I missed him like I’d miss my right arm, but then Callan grew up and became Callan. You don’t replace that type of closeness, but someone can rise in your esteem and stake a place in your soul.
That was Callan.
Even if he is a little shit who has no problem gossiping about his brothers.
“Been better.”
“You want to talk about it, let me know?”
“‘Course.”
“I mean it.”
His gaze is measured as he settles it upon me. “I do too.”
“Good.”
“I had a job offer.”
“Leaving as soon as you get here. Sounds about right,” I mutter, oddly annoyed with him.
Is it a crime that I miss my brothers?
This time, he shoves me. “It’s in town.”
“Can’t see you packing bags at the General Store.”
“I did that when I was a teenager and those were the best-packed bags in the entirety of Canada.”
“You always did think a lot of yourself.”
Chuckling, Cody finally answers with the truth. “The job’s with this new branch of cops they’re starting in the province. Marshals. I know some people who know some people and they got me an interview.”
“I never heard anything about this from the mayor.” Though granted, I’d heard about it in last year’s throne speech.
“Diddums,” he mocks. “Anyway, this is above the mayor’s pay grade. You’re looking at Pigeon Creek’s new marshal.” Then, he amends, “Once I complete basic training.”
“What about the RCMP?”
“We’ll stand shoulder to shoulder.”
“I’m sure Terry Reilly will love that.”
“Sucks to be him. Anyway, I can make my ranks up myself. Wondered if you could help me with that.”
I rub my cheek as I think about the town’s occupants. “What numbers are you talking about? What’s your jurisdiction?”
“Twenty. And it’ll be covering Louisville and Grangetown and the twenty-mile perimeter around the three towns.”
“What about the Marguerite Lake community?”
He grins at me. “Yup.”
I hide a smile. “Let me guess, those on high don’t want the tribe on board but you’re going to shove that shit on its head?”
“Oh, yeah. They hired me because of my name. Let’s face it. I was given the job for a reason. If Cole had retired this season, they’d probably have approached him.”
I hoot at the idea of my hockey-boi brother being the local marshal. “Let’s be thankful for small mercies.”
“We have a large Métis population in this area, but they’re never represented and this marshal service is a concern. The First Nations’ councils are gathering about it because they know they’re the ones who will be shafted.
“I was going to do a recruitment drive in Marguerite Lake. You still get along well with the chief, don’t you?”
I nod. “Gabriel hasn’t spoken to me in a while though.”
“Why not?”
“Theo dated his sister.”
“Not your fault,” he points out. “Plus, Theo’s Métis.”
“His mom is.” I shrug. “But Gabriel said I should have warned him. I probably should’ve but Theo’s good people. If you or Cole had been sniffing around her heels, I would have.”
“Thanks, bro.”
“You know it’s true.”
“You’re no monk,” he complains, bringing me full circle to my earlier thoughts.
“No,” I concur. “I’m not.”
His expression is knowing enough that he’s lucky he’s using a crutch. Still, he doesn’t have a death wish. “You willing to speak to Gabriel for me?”
“Sure, but it might not work in your favor.”
“I think it will. He has to know what your reaching out would mean. It’ll be a relief, I figure. The powers that be don’t know how close our ties are with the Métis.”
I hum. “True. They would if they looked. We’re descended from them thanks to our great-grandma, and our workers are eighty percent from the reserve.”
“That’s higher than during Uncle Clayton’s guardianship.”
“Clyde’s a racist asshole. He cut the numbers and that’s one of the reasons we suffered for a long time. No one knows the land in this area better than the Métis. It took me a while to get them to trust me again, but they did and slowly, I’ve brought them in.
“Gabriel only ascended to chief during the last election so he knows I’ve been working hard on that front.”
“If you only have them out on the range, does that appear discriminatory?”
I snort. “Who said that I only have them out on the range?”
“You don’t?”
“Of course not. Who do you think was behind the expansion at HQ? With Clyde off the scene, I’ll be promoting more on a corporate level too. Laura Goulet and Katherena Villeneuve were my first picks for CFO and VP—that was before I became the head of the company.”
His brows lift. “Wow. You’re so woke, bro.”
“It’s not woke. They’re the best women for the job.” I tap my nose. “I’m very secure in my masculinity.”
“Speaking of… this wife of yours. What are you going to do with her?”
I scowl at the change of subject. “Shut it.”
“No, seriously. I’ve seen the way you look at her and I’ve also seen how she looks at you.” This time, his ever-moving brows waggle. “You’ve always had a thing for her, haven’t you?”
“Not consciously.” I drawl the half-truth, tossing the rest of my sandwich on the plate.
“Lies,” he jeers, but his eyes are twinkling.
Twinkling.
“Is this how you’re going to be now that you’re no longer a serving officer in the Air Force?”
He mockingly salutes. “Amazing how freeing it feels not to kill people for a living, bro.”
“Yeah? Let’s not switch out that burden for the one where you’re into matchmaking. I have enough of that with Callan!”
Cody chuckles. “Callan? Not Mum?”
“Nah. She’s been quiet about this. But she’s letting Callan get away with murder, so she’s going along for the ride.”
“Is she okay?”
“I think so. She seems to be.”
“How’s she getting along with Zee?”
“As far as I can tell, they don’t talk. Not because they hate one another, but because?—”
“Ships that pass in the night?”
The words sink into me.
He’s right.
Zee doesn’t bother getting to know Mum because this is still temporary in her mind.
Mum isn’t bothering to open up to Zee because I’ll be divorced longer than I’ll be married.
I rub my forehead, trying not to feel like I’ve been sucker punched.
“It’s not a crime to want your wife, Colt,” Cody murmurs, his voice soft and free from ridicule. “It’s a good thing, in fact.”
“I failed her.”
He shrugs. “That’s what the Korhonen charm is for. You can make it up to her.” His smile is bright. “And I get front-row seats for the charm offensive. Talk about brilliant timing.”
“Dick,” I grumble, but I lean over and muss his hair.
Though he punches my shoulder to get me to stop, he reasons, “Why shouldn’t she want you? You’re a good man. The best. Fair and kind. Generous. And you don’t have a face only Mum would love. Why shouldn’t you get the woman you want, if you want her that is…?”
* ?Canadian Armed Forces
* ?Royal Canadian Air Force