Page 17 of Cruel Expectations

“I’m following. And the guy who went missing?”

“It was the ranch hand, Dude.” Colton scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw, creating a scuffing sound.

“What makes you think he didn’t just take off?”

Webb met Hunter’s stare. “He left the horse out. He never would have left a horse out.”

“You think the man you killed got to him first?”

Colton nodded. “I do. We just haven’t found a body yet.”

A body. How many bodies had Hunter dropped in the name of duty? When he was still young and naïve, he believed every single face of those he killed in the name of duty would forever be etched in his brain. That wasn’t the case. In fact, he couldn’t remember a single one.

He’d like to blame the military for making him into a cold, hardened machine, but that transformation began much, much sooner.

Now, Colton had given him a job. He had a purpose again, even if a small one.

“Tell me where to set up, and I’ll cover fire watch.” The military equivalent of night shift. It wasn’t the same as defending cities under siege or raiding a terrorist bunker to rescue an American diplomat, but after being laid up so many months, Hunter was actually looking forward to doing something useful again.

Colton dropped his arms from his stiff pose. “There’s time for that later, Hart. It’s not all work around here.”

He cocked a brow. “The card game Marks mentioned?”

Colton clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You and I are going to be having a bit of fun down at the local saloon.”

“Does it involve grilling locals about who killed that horse?”

“Possibly.” Colton turned to Webb. “You stay behind with Marks and the others.”

Webb’s dark glower and lowered brows didn’t go unnoticed by Hunter. But the man said nothing, just whipped around and strode in the direction of the bunkhouse, kicking up dust from his boots with every step.

Hunter watched him go. Colton said nothing about the tension riding between him and Webb.

“Good thing he’s not going along with us—seems like a real buzzkill.”

Colton snorted. “You haven’t lost your edge, Hart.” His grin stretched. “Your first time down at Badlands is bound to go better than mine.”

“What happened?”

“Somebody needed a spanking.” Colton’s words had Hunter chuckling, and it felt foreign.

“Somebody meaning Meadow?”

“That’s right.”

“Is that the reason you and Webb are circling each other like street fighters?”

“Part of it, though he doesn’t know about the spanking. Webb’s an asshole—there’s no arguing that—but we’ve made a little peace with each other since the attack.”

“Fighting on the same side of the line does that.” He gave Colton a questioning look. “You think it’s a good idea to hit the saloon and leave untrained men to watch the ranch while we’re gone?”

He sobered. “I’ve armed them. They can all shoot. I need your skills of persuasion. You’re good at getting people to talk. Maybe better than me.”

“I’m definitely better than you.”

Colton’s lips twitched at one corner. “Damn, I’ve missed your company, brother.”

Hunter had spent months recuperating alone, believing that he’d never again be with the brothers he fought with. “It’s good to be here.”

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