“Yeah, if you’re homeless in a city park,” Zane retorted. “Answer the question, Grady.”
“I did,” Ty said to him with a smirk he tried to hide. He seriously enjoyed riling Zane up. The results were often… heated. “I mean, if you want specific places to camp, I’m gonna need a map. And maybe some squeaky pens, you know, the ones that smell good?” he rambled, knowing it would annoy Zane and trying not to smile as he said it.
Zane stopped in place as Ty kept walking. After a long moment he shook his head and changed directions, heading for the far side of the parking garage. Zane had learned not long after they’d been reassigned that he didn’t have to stick around to deal with Ty’s verbal sparring. In some ways it was a nuisance, because now Ty had to work harder to annoy him, but it was refreshing, too, in that Zane wasn’t willing to be batted around like a mouse being taunted by a cat anymore.
“Hey!” Ty called after him with a melancholy smile. He did miss the verbal sparring sometimes.
“What?” Zane yelled back as he kept walking to his Valkyrie, parked in the corner about thirty yards away.
“You want to know why I don’t like going home?” Ty asked as he jangled his keys, the sound echoing in the cement parking garage.
“I believe I asked what you were afraid of, Grady. Two different things,” Zane responded as he picked up his helmet from the seat of the motorcycle. His voice bounded off the concrete of the parking deck and reached Ty almost as an echo.
“I’m afraid of the dark,” Ty answered immediately with a tilt of his head, his voice soft and serious.
Zane paused and turned back to study him. Ty smiled slightly. They were both still dealing with hangups and problems. While Zane certainly had a harder time dealing than Ty did, every once in a while it did Zane good to be reminded that he wasn’t alone in his struggles.
“You really want me to come?” Zane asked him uncertainly.
Ty nodded.
“What are we going to do while we’re there?”
“Eat home cooking and take a little hike in the woods,” Ty answered with a negligent shrug.
Zane’s shoulders relaxed. “There’s a difference between a little hike and needing camping gear.”
“Is there?” Ty asked innocently. He shook his head. “We just go up on the mountain. Stay there a week, maybe ten days,” he explained.
“Ten days,” Zane repeated flatly.
“Sometimes less,” Ty answered.
“I’ve never been to the mountains,” Zane said doubtfully as he set his helmet down.
“All the more reason to go,” Ty countered, though he was silently wondering how in the hell Zane had lived all his life without going into the mountains. Any mountains.
Zane nodded slowly. “Are we still getting coffee?” he asked after a moment.
“If you want it,” Ty answered with a shrug. “We need to go shopping. You’re gonna need some boots,” he told his partner with relish.
Chapter 3
IT WAS warm enough that they could leave the windows of Ty’s Bronco down as they drove along the winding roads that led to Bluefield, West Virginia. The fall leaves had turned, making the road a blinding corridor of oranges, yellows, and reds. And even though the sun had just barely risen, the sky was an amazingly clear blue as they headed higher into the Appalachian Mountains.
Ty didn’t say much as he drove. He didn’t even have the radio on. He was obviously distracted, resting his head in his hand as he propped his elbow on the open window. Even behind the dark aviator sunglasses and the mangled straw bullrider-style hat that sat low on his head, shielding his face, he was frowning unconsciously. He’d purposely taken the scenic route, avoiding the highways as much as possible, but he got more and more tense as they got closer to their destination.
Zane was distracted as well, but more by the scenery than by his thoughts or by his companion’s mood. He’d never been up in the mountains, and while Texas had trees, it didn’t have trees like this. Trees in every direction, up the mountains, down the mountains, as far as the eye could see.
He frowned and shifted his jaw from side to side, trying to pop his ears. “I need gum,” he muttered, looking over to Ty. “You could have warned me. I didn’t even think about altitude change.”
“Hold your nose and try to blow air through it,” Ty advised seriously.
Zane peered at him, trying to decide if he was joking. With Ty, it was usually a safe bet that he was jerking him around, no matter how serious he sounded. But since his partner still looked as distracted as before, Zane decided to try it. And damn if it didn’t work.
“Does it all look like this?” he asked as he pulled at his ears. “All the trees and sky and nothing else?”
“The sky is usually there, yeah,” Ty answered with a firm nod. “So are the trees, come to think of it,” he added thoughtfully.
Zane thwacked him, earning a surprised, “Ow!”
Ty glanced at him and grumbled as he rubbed his chest. Grinning, Zane shifted in the seat to extend his legs across the floorboard as they drove into the town of Bluefield. It wasn’t what Zane had expected. It was large and fairly modern, nestled in a valley and sprawling across a gently rolling landscape. There were sections that were older and slightly dilapidated, but for the most part it looked like Bluefield was doing pretty well.
They drove through the Main Street area, historic buildings that had been rejuvenated and hosted little boutique shops and cafés. An old man on the corner of the street waved at Ty as they drove past, apparently recognizing the Bronco, and Ty raised his hand out the window and grinned as he waved in return.
Zane was smiling slightly as Ty took the truck through several turns. Then they were heading further up the mountain. Zane’s brow furrowed as he watched the rustic scenery pass, and he asked, “You don’t play banjo, do you?”
Ty looked over at him quickly, shock written plainly on his face even behind the sunglasses. “Did Dick tell you that?” he demanded.
Zane stared at him for a moment and then broke down laughing. “Oh hell, no. I was just making a Deliverance joke!”
Ty glared at him for as long as he was able before he was forced to look back at the road. “I learned when I was little,” he finally said defensively. “Banjo, fiddle, guitar. The whole family plays.”
“That’s great,” Zane said once he calmed down a little, though he couldn’t resist another snicker. That just seemed out of character for tough guy Marine Ty Grady. It was almost charming.