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He hoped he’d honored his friend’s memory. He hoped Jace knew that Silas had done his best to take care of Tess, to watch out for Morgan and Willow. He hoped he’d done his friend proud during his time in Star Valley.
When he’d first walked away from his career in the Navy, Silas had never thought about going back. The first time he’d joined up, he’d been confident that was the best path for him to take, but now… he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t having second thoughts about going back into a fight. He’d never had to leave someone he cared about before.
“Hey!” Thatch yelled from the window of his truck as he pulled up and parked next to him. “What’s up? When I got your text, I wasn’t expecting you to say you wanted to meet at the shooting range.” His friend hopped out. “It’s been a while since we’ve shot up a couple of targets together.”
Silas closed his gun case again. “I need to brush up on my skills. It’s been way too long.” From what Fletch had told him, they suspected the diplomat had been kidnapped for ransom. His friend was currently pinning down the holding location and then they’d have to go in. So Silas figured he’d better make sure he could still aim.
“Come on. You were the best marksman out of all of us back in the day.” Thatch hoisted his rifle case out of his truck. “You’ll be fine.”
Then why had the thought of going back into the field been keeping him up every night this week? He shook off the concerns. He’d trained for years, and all of his skills and instincts would come right back to him. They would have to come right back.
They walked side by side to the range’s entrance—a small trailer set up by the gate—and paid the attendant before selecting the first station to set up.
Thatch laid his rifle case on the edge of the picnic table and went about assembling the pieces. “How does Tess feel about you going?”
“I know it scares her.” And that made him feel like crap. “We haven’t talked about it too much.” And he hadn’t even given her any real details. For one thing, he couldn’t say too much. This assignment was supposed to be off the books. And for another, he hadn’t seen her in a few days—not since they’d visited Darrell’s house and had picked up the girls. They’d texted constantly and FaceTimed after the girls went to bed, but that wasn’t exactly the best way to have a conversation. But tonight he’d see her at Willow’s party, and the anticipation was already humming through him.
“What’s up with you two anyway?” Thatch loaded a round. “I mean, I figured when Kyra kicked us all out of Tess’s house the night of the meeting you two would finally get over yourselves and get together.”
“It’s not that simple.” Silas concentrated on getting himself set up. Though he’d put this gun together so many times, he didn’t have to think much about what he was doing.
“Seems pretty simple to me.” Thatch slipped a pair of noise-canceling headphones around his neck. “You have feelings for her. She has feelings for you. What more do you need?”
He needed Morgan and Willow to accept him too. That would have to happen in order for him and Tess to have a clear path to move forward. But Thatch wouldn’t understand that. “You have feelings for Lyric. What’s happening on that front?” When all else failed, he always deflected.
“Things are moving along.” Thatch lifted the rifle to his shoulder and lined up his vision with the scope, aiming at the target.
“Moving along how?” He could be every bit as nosey as his friend.
“Okay, fine.” Thatch lowered the rifle. “I’ve got nothing. None of my usual tactics are working. Lyric hasn’t given me the time of day.”
“You mean asking her about yoga pointers for your sciatic problem didn’t interest her?” Sarcasm had always been one of their favorite forms of communication.
His friend shot him a glare. “I have some other ideas. But I don’t have a lot of time right now anyway. I’ve been in Jackson a lot.”
Silas put his headphones around his neck and slipped on his safety goggles. “How’s the bronc riding going?” He joined his friend at the barrier, waiting for an answer before they shot.
“It’s painful, I’ll tell you that.” Thatch winced. “You should see all the bruises I’ve accumulated.”
Keeping the safety on his rifle, Silas raised it to his shoulder, finding the target through his scope. “But you’re sticking with it.”
“Hell yeah.” Thatch was busy aiming at the farthest target. “You can’t bail when things get painful, we both know that. You have to stick it out—work through the pain to see the rewards.”
Silas lowered his gun. His friend may have been talking about physical pain, but the same could be said for relationships. Could he stick it out with Tess even with the potential pain of having things not work out? He didn’t know the answer, so he put on his headphones. “Worst out of one clip buys the beer later,” he yelled.
“You’re on.” Thatch moved his safety gear into place and then they took turns shooting at the farthest targets with Silas coming out on top.
“Lucky shots,” Thatch grumbled when they’d taken down their headphones.
“I guess you were right earlier.” He couldn’t resist rubbing in the victory. “I still am the best marksman out of all of us.”
“You’re still the most humble too,” his friend said.
While they were packing up their rifles, another pair of patrons came lumbering down the path. “Gentlemen.” Silas tipped his hat to the two men, getting a better look at their faces.Interesting.He waited until they’d walked on past and then turned to Thatch. “You know who that is with Ford, don’t you?”
Thatch took another look at the man who’d set up shop in the station next to theirs. “Looks like the older Kline. Brad’s dad. What’s his name again?”
“Paul, I think.” At least that’s what he’d heard around town. He’d never spoken to the man personally. “There were three men in that UTV when we chased them down.”
