Page 12 of Cruel Expectations

Ducking his head in a nod, he trailed out the door behind Colton. The freshness of the air had been the first thing to hit him when he stepped out of the truck. A close second was the tang of pine in the air, and third, a cool quality that he filled his lungs with again and again.

Colton led the way across the short patch of grass to a long line of fence and leaned his elbows on it. Hunter did the same.

“I appreciate your offer for me to come to the ranch.”

“I knew you were the best man for the job.”

“And what exactly is that job?” Colton had only given him the barest hints of what sort of trouble was going down on the Gracey Ranch. He could guess at trespassers, dead cattle or even cattle theft. But situated in the middle of nowhere like they were, with a tiny pinprick of a town miles and miles away, what threat could they possibly need protection from?

Colton turned his head to stare across the landscape. “See that barn over there?”

Hunter followed his stare. “Yeah.”

“I killed a man in it a few nights ago.”

Their gazes connected for a heavy beat.

“So it’s that kind of threat.”

Colton nodded. “We aren’t certain who’s behind any of it yet. But Forest had some suspicions about things his father was doing.”

“He told you that?”

“Not exactly. I read something about it in a letter he wrote to his father.”

Hunter gripped the top rail of the fence hard enough that the rough splinters bit into his callused fingertips. Anyone in the military knew about those letters—the ones they wrote their loved ones in the event that they didn’t return home.

The ones that brought grieving mommas to tears and drove fathers to the bottom of a bottle.

Hunter had had no letters to write. He didn’t have any living relatives.

Reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket he still wore, he fingered the rope and then drew it out. Toying with the short length had become a lifelong habit of his. During his stint in the hospital, with hours and hours of boredom, he’d indulged the habit more since his days as a SEAL.

He began picking apart the ends he knotted when he fashioned the crown for Ivy. Then, one by one, he worked free the rest of the decorative loops he made.

The look on her face when he slapped it on her head was the best thing he’d seen in a long time. In that moment, he realized that a woman like her didn’t even live on the same planet he did.

Colton watched him toy with the rope for a minute. “What are you doing with that?”

He glanced up at his friend. How much should he share? Colton probably didn’t need to hear more sad stories, not when they already shared one.

But he was asking, and Hunter had an obligation to one of the last friends he had left.

Holding up the length of thin hemp, he felt the words sear his throat. “It’s from my youth.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “We had a boat when I was growing up. My dad taught me how to fashion sailors’ knots. I used to keep this bit of rope to practice on. After my parents died, I figured it was lost. But when my grandparents died, I found this in my old room along with some toys from my childhood.” He shifted his shoulders in an awkward semblance of a shrug.

“When I was in the hospital, I started playing with it again, making the knots.”

“Ivy sure doesn’t share the same fondness for it.” Amusement danced in Colton’s eyes.

Hunter didn’t share his friend’s amusement over the annoying princess. “She sat across the aisle from me on the flight.”

Colton laughed. “That’s one hell of a coincidence.”

He scrubbed a knuckle over his jaw. “I guess you got the sane sister.”

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