I woke in the morning to the smell of coffee. The bed was empty, so I padded out to the little kitchenette to see Alison in my robe, her hands wrapped around a mug like her life depended on it. I padded out in my boxers and mused that my life might soon depend on caffeine, so I grabbed a mug and poured myself a cup as I studied her. Her eyes were looking out the window and when I looked, all I saw was everyday ranch stuff from the small window by the door.

“Tell me about your dreams?” Alison asked me.

“What do you want to know?”

“What scares you so bad that you cry out in your sleep? I moved the rifle because you kept reaching for it.”

“Losing friends mostly,” I admitted, a lump in my throat. “Not being fast enough to stop a suicide bomber, having to shoot kids with AKs who were shooting at me.”

“That’s horrible.”

“War always is.”

“Did you kill a lot?”

“Not as many as some. I wasn’t always right up there with the action.”

“But you did kill?” she asked, and we were both silent. I nodded to her.

“Usually from a ways off. Only a few times from up close.”

“And it gives you bad dreams?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

She paused a moment, chewing her lip in thought.

“I guess that’s a good thing. If you didn’t have bad dreams, you probably wouldn’t care?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s right.”

“And if you didn’t care, you’d be some sort of monster, but you’re not.”

“I’d like to hope not,” I told her, hating to have this conversation now, but knowing it would have come out some time or another.

“Good. I don’t know if I could love a monster.” She wrapped her arms around me.

With those words, my heart soared. I’d just admitted to her the worst of myself, and she told me she loved me, and she was holding me. How could she love the part of me that was a monster? With what I’d done, what I did. What I could do? I had felt bad with every kill, but in every war, there is always a shooter and I was one of them.

“Penny for your thoughts,” I asked after a couple minutes.

“I’m just worried.”

“About Mom and Dad…”

“No, no, not that.”

“Then what?”

“That everything with Tim, all the crazy stuff. Everything with the ranch. It’s either going to get worse or better. He lives, who knows? He dies, who knows? I honestly don’t know which one I want.”

“That’s a lot of guilt for one lady,” I said, holding her close, almost spilling her mug.

“Kind of. It doesn’t help that I’m sore all over.”

“Quit riding horses all day.”

“It wasn’t the horse that made me sore.” She set her cup down and swatted me.

“Well, about that, you see…”

Her cell phone rang, interrupting what could have been some shenanigans of some sort. She told Jackson hello, yes we were going, and sure, we’d take him with us. She flipped the phone closed.

“That was Jackson.”

“I got the gist of it.”

“Come here and give me a kiss. I have to run back to the house and get clean clothes on.”

“Wait, I’ll come with you,” I said, hurrying toward the bedroom.

“No, take a shower first.”

“A shower?”

“You stink like sex,” she whispered to me, grinning.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Give me your keys; I’ll drive the Jeep back.”

“Pants pocket.”

“Which is where?”

“By the bed.”

“It was dark…”

“Hurry back,” I said, walking into the bathroom and closing the door, hoping I’d just scored a point in the continuing game of irking her.

“Don’t think about last night while you are soaping yourself up,” she said, scratching the outside of the door.

Dammit! As soon as she said that, it was the only thing I could think of, and I let out a string of obscenities after I heard the front door close and started the water. No need to worry about hot water today. This morning, my shower was going to be cold. I finished as quickly as I could stand it. I stood in the kitchenette in a towel, lost in thought and sipping my second cup of coffee for the day when I saw Sandy walking up the path to the cabin. I had barely got my clothes on when she knocked on the door.

“Sandy, come in.”

“Thank you. Has Jackson been in yet?”

“No, we’re supposed to pick him up.”

“Oh okay. I wanted to ride in with you guys. This has to be so hard on Carl.”

My mind started spinning. Was Sandy the woman that Dade had been alluding to? Did Sandy and Carl Bart… I shook my head to clear the thought. Thinking about Carl made me think about his brother, the sheriff, which made me think about Karen. Everything in that train of thought went back in circles and reminded me of the bad soap operas and TV shows my mom watched when the weather was bad outside. Could she be the one?

“No problem. Alison is bringing the Jeep by, unless you guys want me to see if there’s one of the bigger trucks?”

“I’m sure your Jeep will be fine.”

“Okay.”

“I’m a little worried,” she said. Really? This had my head spinning possibilities again.

“Yeah, I wonder if what happens with Tim today ends the problems the ranch is having,” she said. I hadn’t seen that one coming, but I’d been thinking the same thing earlier.

“You think the tumor or whatever it is, caused Tim to go off the wall?”

“It did something to him, that’s for sure. Can I trouble you for a cup of coffee?”

“Sure, I have half a pot left.” I kicked myself for not offering. Hospitality went out the window when I’d started bunking seven deep with a bunch of guys from all over the world.

I pulled a cup down from the cupboard and poured her some of the Columbian brew. She raised it to her lips and took a cautious sip and we stood there for a moment, looking out the window.

“I used to be best friends with Tyler and Carl’s older sister. She died about twenty years ago. Drunk driver.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Carl and Tyler changed that day. They became mean, or meaner than they were. I think it would break them if something happened to Tim.”

“But what he did wasn’t right.”

“We don’t know yet. If it was the tumor…”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” I admitted, having had the same line of thoughts myself.

“Those boys are the last in a long line of Barts. I think that’s why Tyler married that young lady.”

“Karen? Yeah, I don’t really think it’s a marriage of love…”

“He wants sons, and she wants his prestige or perception of power.”

“Yeah, I think so. She was kind of bold at the party…”

“If you hadn’t moved your head, she probably would have accused you of trying to kiss her and would have made a bigger scene.”

“You saw all that?”

“As soon as that tramp walked in, I knew there was going to be trouble.” She finished her cup and handed it to me. I filled it again.

“Yeah, subtle isn’t her thing I guess.”

“Neither was Alison.”

“What?”

“You didn’t see it, but as soon as you guys left our side, she started cussing a blue streak.” She sipped her cup smiling at me, the wrinkles in her face smoothing out as she smiled at me.

“Yeah, about Alison. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh? I expect you do. I could see it in your eyes.”

“Really? I thought it was the lack of sleep.” I wiped my eyes again and took another sip, killing the pot with a refill.

“No, at the wedding reception.”

“Is it wrong?”

“What, that two people connected somehow? No.”

“No, I mean, that she’s Bill’s daughter.”

“I don’t think that matters to them actually.”

“What? How?” I was almost stuttering.

“After Jackson talked to me about the kiss, I spoke with your mother.”

“Was she upset?”

“More worried that if things went sour, you’d leave the family again.”

“I didn’t leave the family, I enlisted and…”

“You ran away. You pushed your family apart and then left.”

I hung my head in shame. She was right, and I deserved this. Still. “I know.”

“Damned right you know. Now what are you going to do to fix this mess?”

“What? Alison or Mom and Dad finding out that we’re…” I cut the words off.

“Bah, they don’t care about you and Alison. Bill was smiling about it according to Meredith.”

I hated my mom’s name; don’t ask me why, but I never used it. The formal tone Sandy was using slapped some sense into me. She was usually as profane as the cowboys she helped raise and mother. She was and always had been Jackson’s best friend, and now I saw her in a different light than the zany matchmaker who worked in the mess halls from time to time. She was also a fixer. That’s probably why she loved matchmaking. It was a gentle nudge, fixing relationships and just caring for people.

“You mean about running away?”

“Bill told me a week before you got here that he’d love for you to forgive him.”

“Forgive him? For what?”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That your mom and him never quit loving each other.”

“I didn’t know that then, but Alison’s been filling me in on all the details I missed out while I was being a shit head.”

“That’s why Jackson was so hard on you, you know?”

“Really?”

“Bill never wanted to be the bad guy. He can’t have kids, and when your mom left him over it, it almost killed him. Fate, God, whatever you believe in, brought them back together and he had a son. A son he’d never had before. A son he’d always wanted… So he asked Jackson to be the bad guy… Bill didn’t want to be the stepfather who was just filling in.”

“Oh God,” I wiped my eyes, knowing despite trying to never let it show, I’d just been hit by a baseball bat in the psyche, and the truth hurt, it hurt bad.

“I didn’t know he cared,” I admitted, after a minute.

Sandy took me in her arms and I put my head down on her shoulder, trying not to cry.

“He always has.”

“I’m such an ass,” I told her shoulder, my tears falling freely.

“You used to be. Be the man you should be now.”

“I’m trying,” I said, standing up and wiping my nose on my sleeve.

“And go wash that shirt; that’s snot you got on it, you little shit bag.”

Her voice lowered into a growl and I laughed, heading to the bathroom to splash water on my face. I did change my shirt, because even after seven years, Sandy still scared me.

I was pulling a clean shirt over my head when I heard the Jeep pull up, and rushed out to turn the coffee pot off and get my boots. Sure enough, Alison had driven it up right to the porch railing, and Jackson gave a wave with his Stetson before getting out and holding his hand out to me.

“Morning, boss,” I told him.

“Last warning, kid, I’m not your boss,” he growled, but his eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Any word from Owen?”

“No, but he’s covering outside while folks are at the hospital.” I nodded, and it made sense.

“You want to drive?” Alison asked me, getting out and holding up the keys.

“No, I think I’ll let you. Last thing I drove was about four and a half tons. Besides, I’m not used to all the new streets in town yet.”

“Got ya.”

“Ms. Sandy, I’ll sit in the back with tall, dark, and ugly if you don’t mind,” I said, and scooted in before Jackson could swing his hat at me.

“I told you, kid…” Jackson growled.

But we all knew what the jokes and mock anger were about. None of us particularly liked Tim, nor anything that he’d done as of late, but he was somebody’s son. A sick son. If it was the tumor that had been making him loco and twisting his thoughts, then maybe we should cut him some slack. Maybe he might not even be responsible for his actions? The seizure or fit or whatever he’d had in the cruiser definitely wasn’t something he’d wanted to happen.

We rode in silence for the thirty minute trip to the hospital. The mountains kept my attention, and I wanted to ask Jackson a thousand times what else had happened yesterday, but didn’t. I figured I’d know more when the time was right.

The hospital we went to wasn’t the one I’d remembered, though it was in the same spot geographically. This was a modern monstrosity almost five stories tall, whereas the old one had only been two. We walked without talking to the glass paneled front where there were two automatic sliding doors, the emergency doors farther down the drive. There still wasn’t much parking, but I didn’t expect there to be much out here in God’s land, where cows outnumbered people.

“Hold on, Cameron, I have one more thing,” Sandy said, tugging on my elbow. Jackson and Ali gave me a pitying look then headed in.

“So, now that you know what’s really going on, how do you plan on fixing it?”

“I think it’s still the same answer I gave last night.”

“What’s that?”

“Mending fences.”

I left her there, her mouth open a bit, and saw both Jackson and Alison heading toward the elevator. Sandy hurried to catch up to me.

“Wait up,” I called, and they stepped inside the open elevator, holding a hand against the door.

“Took you long enough.” Alison poked me, and I jumped. Damn the girl!

“That never gets old,” Sandy said, and although I couldn’t see her expression, I knew she was probably laughing. Hell, they were all probably laughing.

“Any word?” Sandy asked aloud.

“None. He goes into surgery in twenty minutes.”

“The Barts will be in the surgical waiting room then.”

“That’s what the information desk told me, dear.”

“Are you getting smart with me, old man?”

“I’ll show you smart later on you…” I let their bickering wash over me and stepped back next to Alison.

“Hey, girl.”

“You okay?” she asked me, brushing my cheek.

“Not really.”

“What’s wrong, have you been crying?” I ducked my head as Jackson looked over his shoulder at me.

“No,” I lied. “This is just a little awkward. What if Carl and Tyler…”

“They’ll be too busy to be angry,” she assured me, hugging me softly.

The door opened, and we followed the signs to the surgical lounge. A woman was holding onto Carl, probably his wife, with Tyler standing there, dressed in his uniform, looking broken, defeated. Tyler’s eyes flashed in anger when he caught sight of me, but his look softened when Sandy rushed forward to give everyone hugs. I waited a tense moment, but Tyler looked at me and motioned with his eyes. I followed him to the far side of the room.

“Are you here to gloat?”

“No, no. How is he?”

“They don’t know,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Is it bad?”

“As bad as things get. We’re all praying for a miracle.”

“Listen, that thing in his head, the tumor, you don’t think it made him a little crazy, do you?”

“Yeah, I do, but that isn’t my call. I do need an answer from you. Are you going to be pressing charges when this is all over?”

“God, we don’t need to worry about that. Let’s get the boy through surgery.”

He paused and gave me a long look.

“You aren’t here to gloat?”

“No, actually I’m here to offer my regards and prayers, if they’d help from a lowlife like me.”

“Lowlife? I may have been hard on you for being heavy handed on my nephew, but you seemed pretty straight up to me. You could have killed him, but you didn’t. Dade said you’d be a good guy to ride trail with.”

“He seems like a decent guy. How are Carl and his wife taking things?”

“He went through the roof about the shooting, but I was already bringing him to see Tim in jail when we heard the call over the radio about the ambulance. He thought you’d beaten Tim again. Had to take his guns away.”

“That bad huh?”

“Tim is all he has,” he said simply.

“Yeah. Listen, do you think Carl is going to be upset if I talk to him?”

“He’s going to be upset no matter what you do.”

“I mean…”

“I know what you mean. Go ahead; I’ll make sure you don’t bust him up if he goes after you.”

“Thanks.”

I knew it was time, but Sandy and Jackson were talking to Carl. Alison was talking to who I thought was Carl’s wife. God, I hated hospitals. In the Army, you always hated to see somebody there.

With everyone busy for the moment, I decided to head back toward the elevator where I’d seen a coffee pot. I went out a different door than I came in, trying to avoid Carl for now, and entered a white hallway with an arrow pointing the way to the elevators. I started to go toward it when I heard a voice I recognized. I started in the opposite direction from the elevators, walking heel to toe, nice and quiet.

“…So the dumb fuck shot at him?”

“…. Don’t worry.”

“….Tyler might find…”

“… The elders don’t have to know. We’re almost…”

“… Two more weeks and we’re free and clear.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Two voices I recognized now, and I peeked around the corner of a hallway T-junction. My jaw dropped. Dade and Karen were holding each other, kissing passionately, only breaking free long enough to talk.

Because of a woman? What the hell? I needed to put some space between us and give myself time to think. I was just about passing the doorway I’d left out of when it came crashing open. A young guy about Tim’s age came rushing out, locking eyes on me. He didn’t say anything, but he surprised me when he charged, lowering his shoulder and plowing into my gut.The wind whooshed out of me as I hit the wall and then the floor. He was all unfocused rage when he landed on top of me, trying to bang me through the floor of the hospital by grabbing my shoulders and bouncing me.

“It’s your fault. He fucking…”

I rolled him off of me, and for a moment I wrestled him down, finally able to get an arm around his neck, the other pulling his hand behind his back as I sat on his waistline. Every time he struggled, I gave him a little less air until the fight started to go out of him. All this took the space of a few seconds, but it felt like minutes. I wasn’t surprised when I saw Tyler come out the door, looking bewildered and thumping footsteps from behind me.

“It’s your fault. Tim wouldn’t have done any of that,” the guy on the ground cried.

“Sheriff, is this one of yours?”

“No, that’s a kid Tim went to school with. What happened? Can you let him up?”

“As long as he doesn’t go after me again.”

“That won’t happen,” Dade said from behind Tyler.

Shit.

“Is he one of yours?” I asked Dade.

“No, but he hangs out at the ranch. Tim and James there, been buddies since their diaper days.”

That settled me down a bit, so I released the pressure on his neck and when he didn’t start fighting back, I got up slowly. James followed suit.

“James, go home,” Tyler told him softly.

“Tim’s my best friend, I can’t do…”

“Would you have attacked someone if you weren’t all upset?” the sheriff asked him.

“I… but Cameron, he’s the one who…”

“Shut up. Go calm down; you’re not doing Tim any favors by starting shit out here,” Dade said, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“You okay with this?” the sheriff asked me.

“Yeah,” I said after a long pause. “But I seem to be doing an awful lot of forgiving lately. Maybe folks should quit pushing at me before I get pissed.”

“This is a load of horseshit.”

“Shut up, James,” both Dade and Tyler yelled.

To give the kid credit, he was more scared of them than me, and he scurried out of there.

“I’m sorry about that,” Tyler said.

“It’s been a weird week,” I admitted, starting to feel the accumulation of bruises from punches and horse bites.

I left the two men in the hallway, not wanting to look at Tyler after what I’d seen Dade and Karen doing. Could that be the girl problem? My head was spinning and I was trying to get the pieces put together.

I decided to go see Carl, in hopes that family would at least keep me semi-safe. The blindside tackle had shaken me up a little bit, but I’d have to remember to be on my guard more. Violence seemed to be all around me, and I was trying to play peacemaker in the middle of a firefight. I had to fix this somehow.

Carl stood when he saw me, as well as the woman. Jackson, Sandy, and Ali were sitting across from them chatting, probably had already told them that I’d be in.

“Carl…” I said holding out my hand.

“This is my wife, Cass,” he said introducing her. “Cass, this is Meredith’s boy, Cameron.”

“Pleased to meet you,” we both said at once and smiled.

“Jinx,” I said, grinning.

“Not you too. Tim used to say that when…”

“Carl, Cass… I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“I know you didn’t,” Cass said, taking my hand in hers, covering it with her other one.

“I just feel lousy for it. I didn’t know he had this thing in his head that was pushing him.”

“I don’t know why the doctors didn’t catch it when he was in the hospital when you busted him up the first time.”

“I don’t know. The headshots were just cosmetic. I was trying not to hurt him, but make a point.”

“You didn’t have to stomp his ribs,” Carl’s voice was low, but you could tell he was hurt, angry.

“I tried to end the fight once, but he kept pushing, pushing.”

“He’s done that a lot lately,” Cass said, looking at Carl, her eyes tearful.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Tyler’s kept him off the books. Thank God for family.”

Really? To hear somebody admit to this out loud made me seriously wonder if I should have let the kid off the hook. Maybe they could have gotten him evaluated or helped him a lot sooner if the sheriff hadn’t let things slide so much.

“Listen, I’m here to offer some prayer power for you guys. I don’t like to see this happen, to anybody. No matter how many times that Tim’s crossed me. I hope it was all the tumor pushing him. I just don’t want to see you guys hurt by all of this. I’m…”

“We know dear,” Cass said, releasing me.

“It doesn’t look good for Tim,” Carl said, his expression grim. “No matter what happens, it sounds like you, Jackson and I need to have a sit-down and hash out some things. I don’t know what exactly has been happening, but I’d like to think it wasn’t my boy. Especially if he dies.”

Ouch. I know that admission hurt as much as the thought of his son dying.

“We’ll do that.”

I shook hands, and turned to Alison and sat next to her.

“Are we staying?” she asked me.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jackson overheard us and turned to me. “Something happen?” he asked.

“Yeah. I don’t want to hang around in case more of Tim’s friends show up.”

“Okay. We’ll have Charlie pick us up. I’ll text Alison to let her know if we can’t get in touch with him.”

“Sounds good. Ready to head out?” I asked Alison as she stood up.

“Yeah, let’s go. You’re driving this time. You have to get your old habits back.”

“Not all of them, please.”

“No, not all of them.”