“I know, buddy,” he soothed. “Starting the day with a bath is no fun. How about some extra carrots?”
Cuervo tossed his head a couple of times in agreement and drew a small smile from Mason.
“Is he going to be okay?” Mason startled at Colt’s question. He’d forgotten all about Colt being there.
Mason nodded and flipped a quick look at Colt before returning to his task on Cuervo’s other side. “It’s water-based paint.”
“That’s good.” Colt shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around. “I got photos for evidence and checked the barn but didn’t see anything to help me figure out who did this. I’ll get Levi over for a more thorough inspection, and then I’ll review the footage from the cameras inside when we get back to the house.”
Mason paused mid-scrub and looked over his shoulder at Colt. “Uhm . . . I haven’t installed any in the barn.”
“You—” Colt let out a long-suffering sigh and dragged a hand over his jaw. The muscle there flexed a couple of times. “Why are there no cameras inside? You were supposed to have put up security cameras before we got here.”
“I have a couple in the medical barn, and I put up a few in the courtyard and one on the drive, before the hands’ house,” Mason defended. “I figured we’d see anyone coming down the drive and going in and out of the barns. I’ve been busy with intaking new horses too.”
“You need to cover every angle and access point.” Colt shook his head and scanned the yard. “You have too many blind spots.”
“Well, that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” Mason snapped. His words were sharper than intended. He should probably apologize, but he didn’t have the bandwidth right then. He clamped his mouth shut, grinding his molars together, and turned his back to Colt.
“Look, Mason . . .”
He glanced at Colt but couldn’t get a read on his expression.
“Going after your horse, that’s personal.”
Did he really need to state the obvious? Mason glared at him for a second, then focused on his task. Careful not to attack Colt again simply for doing his job, there was no heat in his voice as he said, “No shit.”
“Think real hard about who might be doing this,” Colt implored. “This is someone who knows you well.”
“Aside from Jack Wilks being a constant thorn in my side about his damn hunting lease?” Mason shook his head. His voice sounded distant and emotionless to his own ears. “Again, take your pick from the list we gave you.”
Mason frowned. Was he focusing on Jack too much because he was the most annoying? Gus Bristow, a nearby rancher, was getting aggressive about wanting to buy a chunk of his land; others were demanding his grazing rights and access to his property to hunt and fish or wanted to strip away all the land’s natural resources. Why was no one ever happy with what they had? Why did they have to try and take what they wanted without regard or damage it—or worse—when they couldn’t claim it for their own?
Mason’s phone rang, thankfully. He didn’t want to think about cruel people or to talk to Colt anymore, not until Cuervo was good. He juggled with the hose as he pulled off a glove and wiped his hand on his jeans so he could reach for his phone. It normally rang three times before going to voicemail, but after three, there was a brief pause before it started ringing again. Whoever it was, they were insistent.
Mason pressed the connect button and put the phone to his ear. “Mason here.”
“It’s Nick.” He paused, and a chill skittered over Mason’s skin at Nick’s ominous tone. “Thad’s been in an accident.”
The color drained from Mason’s face, and Colt closed the distance between them on pure instinct. The need to shield Mason, to protect him from whatever news he’d just received, rose with unexpected intensity. He mentally shied away from why that was and focused on Mason.
Mason turned his wide hazel eyes on him, and Colt lifted an eyebrow in question. Mason pulled the phone away from his ear, hands shaking as he pressed the speaker button.
“You’re on speaker, Sheriff Chambers.” Mason’s voice wobbled. “Colt’s here.”
“Nick,” Colt said, apprehension squeezing his chest. “What’s going on?”
“There was an accident,” Nick shouted into the phone as wind in the background threatened to drown him out. “We don’t have any details yet, but Thad has been taken to the hospital.”
“Is he—” Mason choked and swallowed. “Is he okay?”
“Non-life-threatening injuries,” Nick assured. “Your truck is probably going to be a write-off though. It’s smashed up pretty good.”
“Do you know what happened?” Colt put a hand on Mason’s biceps as he asked, needing to soothe Mason as much as himself. The unexpected balm of that light connection was startling. Mason froze for a split second, and then some of the tension holding his body rigid let go.
“Not yet, but a witness said Thad’s vehicle never slowed down for the corner at the bottom of Haverstall Mountain Road, even though they saw the brake lights on.”
“Shit.” Colt made eye contact with Mason as possibilities for the cause ran through his mind. Mason was upset enough as it was with his horse graffitied, and his face had lost more color than Colt thought possible. To hear what Colt suspected might send him over the edge.
