Will was angry about the tree branchhimself. It wasn’t that difficult to kill someone if you hit themhard enough in the wrong spot.
Dennis rambled on, “I don’t have anyone Icould call even if I wanted to. That’s the point. That’s why I’mback. I didn’t know what to do. I realized I wasn’t going to beable to make it on my own. I decided to lay low somewhere, but thenI saw you two show up at the motel and I realized my best bet wasto stay in the program. So I ran down and knocked on your door.” Headded, “I thought you were looking for me. But I guess you werejust —”
Out of the corner of his eye, Will sawTaylor’s forearm recoil. The back of his fist connected withDennis’s face with machine-like precision. Dennis howled and fellback.
“I knew that was coming.” Will muttered.
“What was that for?” Dennisprotested, cupping his nose.
“Nervous twitch,” Taylor said, gazing outthe side window as the town of Mist Bend grew smaller and smallerbehind them.
* * * * *
When they arrived back at the house, Will’sdad greeted his runaway houseguest without particular joy, andretreated to the kitchen to once more call Clary Bennett at theU.S. Marshals Service.
Dennis, still cupping his nose, retreated tothe loft. Grant was in the den watching television again.
“You want to take a walk?” Will askedTaylor. He felt obliged to ask, although the drive and his variousworries had resolved his own state of arousal. He’d been up sincefour, and what he most wanted was a nap. A nap with Taylor would beespecially nice, but that was liable to get them both — certainlyTaylor — wound up, and they had enough trouble with thatalready.
Taylor glanced at the clock on thebookshelf. “I’m going to try to get hold of the DMV before Euphonialeaves for the day.”
“If you feel like it’s important, okay. I’mgoing to close my eyes for half an hour.”
Taylor nodded, already punching in thenumbers on his cell phone.
Will headed for his bedroom. Passing theden, he spotted Grant sacked out in one of the large leatherchairs, mouth agape, snoring in front of the TV. Will paused in thedoorway. Grant looked like such a kid, sprawled there. It madeWill’s chest ache. The next time he saw Grant, Grant would nolonger be a boy. The service would change him. It would change himin good ways, but… Will was going to miss this impulsive,hot-headed, sometimes irresponsible, but always good-hearted younggoof. It was crazy they were wasting this time together. The wholereason Will had made this trip was to spend time with Grant. Whydid Grant have to turn it into a choice between himself andTaylor?
Will hesitated, then reluctantly continuedto his room.
The house had a quiet, peaceful, familiarfeel to it. It reminded him of Saturday and Sunday afternoonsgrowing up.
And the thought of Taylor here, right downthe hall, made it even better. Will pulled off his boots, stretchedout on his bed and was asleep in seconds.
When he opened his eyes again the room wasin shadow. He could smell woodsmoke from the fireplace in the frontroom, and the smell of home cooking. He listened, but the onlyvoices came from the television set in the den.
He got up, splashed water on his face, andwent into the kitchen. His father was lighting the burner beneath akettle of peeled potatoes.
“Where’s Taylor?”
“I think he took the dogs for a walk.”
“Taylor did?”
His father looked up. “Any reason heshouldn’t?”
“No. Just that Nature and Taylor don’t getalong.”
Bill smiled faintly. “Maybe we’re winninghim over. You could give him a shout. We’re going to eat before toolong.”
Will nodded. He glanced back at the livingroom, but there was no one around. Grant had still been sleeping inthe den when he walked past. “Grant isn’t taking this well,” hesaid.
“Your brother has to work this one out forhimself.”
Not exactly what Will had been hopingfor.
He mulled it over and said resolutely, “Youhaven’t said. What do you think?”
Bill, placing trout in an iron skillet,looked up. “About what?”
“About MacAllister. Taylor.”
“He seems like a good kid.”
“Kid.” Will snorted.
“You’re all kids to me.” Bill went back toarranging the fish, but he must have felt the weight of Will’sgaze. He said slowly, “I think he’s a straight shooter, son. Hewon’t let you down. Not if he’s still standing.”
Will thought about that stillstanding comment as he crossed the meadow to where he spottedTaylor standing motionless, watching a Cooper’s hawk hunting.
His dad had unknowingly zeroed right in onWill’s deepest fear. That reckless streak of Taylor’s, thatapparent, terrifying belief that he was impervious to harm, despiteplenty of evidence to the contrary.
But he wasn’t forgetting that conversationwith Taylor the night before they’d left Ventura. Whatever hisprivate anxieties — the fear that his happiness was tied to thesafety and well-being of someone who didn’t give a damn about hisown safety and well-being — he could not afford to let any of thatshow. They could not have a repeat of Paris. He could not treatTaylor any differently on the job than he had when they’d firstbeen partnered.
Or he would lose him.
As much as Taylor loved him, and Will didn’tdoubt that for a second, he saw now that this was Taylor’s line inthe sand. Why it should be so, he didn’t know, but he had seen iton Taylor’s face in Paris. And he’d heard it in his voice the othernight.
Riley came tearing across the meadow towardhim, followed by Roxie. Taylor turned, and seeing Will, smiled andstarted back to meet him.
“Enjoying yourself?” Will greeted him.“Sorry for sacking out like that. I must be getting old.”
Taylor shrugged in a doesn’t mattergesture, kept walking till he was face to face with Will, andWill’s arms closed around him automatically. Taylor fastened hismouth on Will’s, wrapped his arms around Will’s shoulders. Willheld him hard, absorbing all that warmth and energy and strength inone wiry, lithe body, enjoying the aggressive press of Taylor’scool mouth on his.
They broke the kiss, smiling.
“And sorry for the Black Bear Inn,” Willsaid, holding him still tighter.
Taylor laughed. “It could have been worse.It could have been four minutes later, and then I would havekilled Cousin Dennis.”
“Pop says the
