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Butch narrowed his gaze. “Dude. Don’t do it.”
Sol grinned. “Aha.Nowyou’re scared.”
“I mean it.”
“Oh, now youhaveto share.” Zeeb cackled. “What was he listening to?”
Sol counted off on his fingers. “Poison, Skid Row, Cinderella, Warrant, Alice Cooper—although technically that was his comeback.”
Walt chuckled. “How come I’ve only heard of one of those? When were they playing?”
“In the mid to late eighties,” Sol told him. “And they all went under the label of glam metal. It was pretty big back then.”
“Which means you weren’t even a drip in your daddy’s pants,” Zeeb added. “And the rest of us were probably still in diapers.”
Walt nodded knowingly. “Oh, I get it now. Old guy stuff.”
“Fuck you,” Butch said good-naturedly.
“You haven’t heard the worst.” Sol’s eyes gleamed. “It was also a time of goodbye denim and leather, hello Spandex, lace, flashy tight-fitting clothing, and make-up.”
Zeeb’s mouth fell open. “Oh please, tell me there are pictures of Butch in make-up.”
“No, there are not.” Butch was going to kill Sol. Then he noticed Teague standing by the door, grinning like a fool. “Whatever you’re thinking of adding to this conversation, forget it.”
Teague gestured to Sol. “You two know each other?”
“Seems they went to high school together,” Zeeb said before Butch got a chance to draw breath. “Took ’em a while to recognize each other. Apparently.”
That last word made Butch think Zeeb knew more than he was letting on.
Teague’s eyebrows went skyward. “Well, what do you know about that?”
“What’s up?” Butch inquired, anxious to bring an end to the discussion.
“Just to let you all know Paul won’t be around Wednesday or Thursday.”
“Is he okay?” Zeeb asked instantly.
“He’s fine. The boss has bought a horse from a ranch over in Wibaux, right on the border. It’s a six-hour drive at least. So Paul will head over there Wednesday, stay the night, and then pick up the horse the next day and bring it back. Butch, you’re going with him.”
Butch frowned. “Me? What’s this got to do with me?”
“I figured you could handle some of the driving. I can manage the bunkhouse.” Teague smiled. “You wouldn’t mind a few days away from Salvation, would you?”
Twenty-four hours ago he’d have jumped at the chance, but things had changed.
“Anyway, that’s all I came to tell you.” He smiled at the four guests. “Today’s the first time some of you get on a horse, isn’t it?”
Frank, the oldest of them, chuckled. “Remind me, why don’t you? I keep thinking I should’ve done this when I was a kid. Now, I’m more likely to break something when I fall off.”
“You’ll be fine,” Teague assured him. “And you’ll be staying on the ranch today, getting used to being on horseback and learning how to take care of it.” He tipped his hat. “Have a great day.” Then he was out of there.
“’Scuse me a minute.” Butch wiped his lips, pushed back his chair, and followed Teague, who was walking briskly toward the path to the house. “Hey, wait up.”
Teague stopped at the paddock fence and turned. “Did I forget something?”
“About this trip Wednesday.”
