Page 25

“Ouch. Everyone else as lucky as you?”

Owen lifted the bracelet on his wrist, the black metal bright and hot in the sun, the names barely visible in the glare.

Brad walked over, peered closely at it.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “There aren’t words.”

The fact that Brad understood without Owen having to explain it made Owen feel better. The men on his bracelet were the stuff of his nightmares, always out of reach from him when he tried to rescue them from the blast. Or they’d be the walking dead, dragging limbs behind them, asking him why he didn’t protect them. Talking about them hurt in a place he was pretty sure Brad would empathize with but could never fully grasp.

Brad coughed, clearing his throat and the air.

“So, can I ask you a question?” Owen asked.

He needed to change the subject, figured now was as good a time as any to ask Brad about his sister, especially with the power tools away. They finished putting the supplies in the back of the four-wheeler. The fence was not only standing, but actually looked formidable. He’d have to make some improvements to the rest of his perimeter to match, but he was capable of doing that solo.

“Shoot,” Brad answered, starting the engine.

Owen didn’t get on the back of the vehicle right away. His question was awkward enough without sitting behind Brad for the return trip to the barn.

“I’m wondering about Paige, actually. I hope that isn’t weird, but she’s fascinating to me and I can’t figure out why. Would you have a problem if I asked her out? Not with, like, romance in mind, but because I like hanging out with her. She’s cooler than I thought. No offense.”

Owen exhaled. Damn if that one little monologue didn’t take a lot out of him. He was nervous again.

Brad smiled, not unkindly.

“None taken. I could tell she felt the same about you at her party, though after you woke her up at the crack of dawn this morning, that might have changed. I have some thoughts on that situation, but there’s no way I’m getting into it here in the heat. Plus, I’m hungry as hell. How about lunch and a beer at Jules and Verne’s? It’s a nice little dive that does both of those pretty damn well if you ask me.”

“Only if you let me buy to say thanks for your help today.”

“Done. Mind if I store the four-wheeler in your barn till later?”

“Not at all. We may need it again, depending on how hungry that bear is.” Brad nodded his agreement.

The men rode back to the barn in silence. One part of Owen’s old life he didn’t miss was working all day in this kind of heat. That would change when the blanket of winter set in on the valley, but right then, the sun and humidity sucked as much as it always had.

When they got to the restaurant, Owen in his truck, Brad in his Subaru, Brad stopped beside Owen’s lifted Chevy, admiring it.

His hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels, Brad whistled.

“This is one gorgeous truck,” he said. He ran one hand along the bed. “Extended cab and bed?”

“Yep. Must haves for this kinda work, I figured.”

“Tow hitch?” Owen nodded as Brad peeked in the windows. “Carhartt seat covers?”

“Yup. They’re worth every penny I paid for ’em, too.”

Brad just shook his head, his dirt-covered hands on his hips.

“I’ve got a serious case of truck-envy right now, I gotta admit. Farm envy, too, if I’m being honest. I missed being out on that land.”

“You used to help your dad?” Owen asked, following Brad into the diner that matched Brad’s brief description perfectly. He nodded.

Owen’d passed it a couple times on his trips into town to grab supplies at the hardware store, but he probably wouldn’t have chosen it to stop for a bite based solely on the modest curb appeal. It didn’t scare him off, but at the same time, with its eave that needed a repaint, and a sign with only half the letters lit, it didn’t instill much confidence.

When they’d ordered and an appetizer of fried pickles and cheese sticks came, however, it was definitely a case of misjudging a book by its cover. The food, though simple, was cooked well, and the beer was cold enough to make Owen thankful he’d come for that reason alone.

“So enough about the farm,” Brad said as the server, a young girl in a 50’s hoop skirt and high ponytail, took their appetizer plates to make room for the burgers she promised were on their way out. “Let’s talk about my kid sister.”