Sticks & Stones

His lips twitched. In the barn, maybe.

As he joined Ty at the truck, Zane caught sight of Chester sitting in a rocking chair on the porch, eyeing them silently. He also saw that the old man now held the aforementioned shovel across his thighs as he rocked.

Zane leaned over toward Ty. “Is that the shovel?”

Ty hefted a bag out of the back of the Bronco and glanced up at the porch. “Yep,” he said with a smile. “He sleeps with it, too, so don’t go sneaking around at night.”

Zane took one of the bags. “He sleeps with it,” he repeated.

Ty hummed affirmatively. “Not sure where he keeps it, but I can tell you with certainty that he wakes up swinging. He goes everywhere with it.” He pointed to the old blue and white Ford Ranger that had a gun rack mounted in the back window. “When he drives, there’s a cane and his shovel in that thing.”

“It’s not that weird. I sleep with a gun,” Zane said with a shrug, though he was bemused. “You used to sleep with any number of weapons. Why not a shovel?” He paused and bit his lip. “What kind of damage can he do with that thing?”

“Broke my nose when I was fifteen,” Ty answered with a fond smile. “He can hit a snake from ten yards away. Moving target’s iffy since his eyesight started going,” he added seriously.

Zane couldn’t stop the laugh. “Broke your nose? What were you doing?”

“Sneaking in,” Ty said unashamedly as he pulled out another heavy pack and thumped it on the ground. “Me and Deuce. I was on point that night. Turned the corner and bang!” he said as he waved his hand in front of his face.

Zane snickered. “After curfew,” he said knowingly.

“You bet,” Ty said with a nod. He looked over to the house and smiled at his grandfather, who was rocking contentedly, the shovel held loosely in his fingers. “Grandpa fought in the Pacific Theater in World War Two,” he told Zane in a low voice. “Grandma always said he came home with a shovel and never put it away.” He glanced at Zane and shrugged. “On the Pacific islands, sometimes a shovel was a Marine’s only defense from enemy fire. Dug for your life,” he explained. “We always figured something broke up there,” he said with a tap to his temple. “The shovel made him feel… whole.”

Zane nodded slowly as he picked up one of the bags and hung it on his right arm before picking up another. “It’s great that you still have him.”

“He’s still here most of the time,” Ty responded with a sigh. “Sometimes I think he’s putting on just so he don’t have to deal with us,” he added with a smirk.

“Like I haven’t seen that before,” Zane said, nudging Ty in the ribs with this elbow.

“I don’t play at crazy,” Ty warned with a smirk he couldn’t quite hide. He reached into the Bronco and dragged out one last bag, throwing it over his shoulder. Zane fixed a look of disbelief on his partner. “What?” Ty asked angelically as he picked up the first bag and began heading for the house.

“You don’t play at being an asshole either,” Zane informed him as he followed him.

“No, I don’t,” Ty agreed happily as he tromped across the yard with the bags.

“Oh, the things I could say,” Zane muttered, reminding himself Ty’s family was around.

“What was that?” Ty asked with a look over his shoulder. He was grinning widely, his hazel eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“You heard me,” Zane drawled, his heart skipping a beat or two. Ty was rarely in this mood lately. Not since New York, in fact. Ty winked at him and thumped up the steps.

“Hey, sonny,” Chester said to him as he rocked. “How far’s the trek this time?”

“Too far for you, old man,” Ty grunted with a smirk.

“Damn straight,” Chester said happily as he looked back out at the mountain and patted his shovel lovingly.

“Maybe I’ll stay here and keep him company,” Zane suggested. “He can protect me from the snakes.”

“Ain’t no snakes this time of year,” Chester scoffed. “Damn fool federal agents,” he muttered sorrowfully with a shake of his head.

Zane chuckled. “Sorry. There’s snakes year-round in Texas.”

“Garrett,” Ty warned under his breath, shaking his head.

“Does this look like Texas to you, son?” Chester asked irritably. He easily picked up the weighty shovel with one gnarled hand and waved it in Zane’s direction.

“No, sir,” Zane answered smartly, stepping a bit behind Ty. “I’ll be sure to pay better attention.”

“Smartass,” Chester muttered as he returned his attention back to the view and began rocking again.

Ty reached behind him and patted Zane’s hip, urging him to get inside as they sidestepped past. Zane cleared his throat as he allowed Ty to shuffle him inside. Ty just shook his head again and dropped the heavy bags inside the living room. “Don’t piss him off,” he warned in a low voice as he headed for the kitchen.

“I think he puts on being pissed off to keep you in line.”

“It works,” Ty returned immediately.

Zane chuckled, trying to keep it quiet. “Wow,” he observed.

“What?” Ty asked defensively.

“It just explains so much about you.”

Ty turned to look at him, circling the kitchen table warily. “How?” he asked in confusion.

Zane braced both hands on the tabletop and leaned toward him. “It’s not just you. Your whole family’s cracked, but somehow, you all make it work. That’s so unfair.” A hand slapped him hard on the back of the head just as he finished speaking. “Ow!” His hand flew up to rub the sore spot.

Mara whisked past with a bushel of apples on her hip. “Be nice,” she chastised distractedly.

“It was a compliment!” Zane protested as Ty laughed.

“I know bullshit when I hear it, kiddo. I raised that one,” Mara told him with a jerk of her thumb at Ty as she plunked the apples down on the table. “Get out of my kitchen or help me,” she ordered as she wiped her hands on her apron.

Ty went to the nearest cabinet and opened it, extracted a white tub labeled “Flour” from the highest shelf, and set it on the nearest counter. He gave his mom a kiss on the cheek and then promptly headed for the door. That was apparently all the help she’d get.

Zane trailed after Ty into the living room. Ty flopped onto the couch and looked at him critically. “Shut up,” Zane said as he sat opposite him in an armchair.

“You really think I’m crazy?” Ty asked him curiously.

“Crazy, yes. Cuckoo off your rocker, no. There’s a difference,” Zane answered. “Ask your brother,” he tacked on. Ty raised an eyebrow at him.

“Ask your brother what?” Deuce called as he thumped down the stairs into the living room. He had changed clothes into something more appropriate for the mountains rather than driving from Philadelphia in a Lexus.

“Whether I’m crazy,” Ty answered as he leaned back and slumped into the soft cushions.

“Completely certifiable,” Deuce provided without looking at either of them as he examined a bowl full of peanuts on the coffee table.

“There’s a difference between crazy and cuckoo off your rocker,” Zane repeated.

“That’s true,” Deuce agreed as he looked up at Ty and nodded. “Are these Dad’s?” he whispered as he pointed at the peanuts. Ty merely nodded, not looking away from Deuce. Zane glanced between the two, interested in watching them interact. There didn’t appear to be any rivalry. In fact, they seemed to be truly at ease with each other. Deuce deflated a little and abandoned the peanuts. He sat in the old wooden rocking chair near the fireplace and sighed heavily.

“Zane thinks we’re all crazy,” Ty told him with a smirk.

Deuce was nodding even before Ty finished speaking. “Right on, brother,” he said to Zane as he held his hand up in a fist and then smacked it down on the arm of the rocking chair.

“See?” Zane shrugged. “I said it was a compliment. Deuce understands.”

“I wouldn’t call it a compliment,” Deuce argued. “Doesn’t mean it ain’t true!” he added cheerfully.

Zane couldn’t help but laugh and relax a little into the armchair. “Refreshing.”

Deuce cocked his head and studied Zane. He looked remarkably like Ty when he did it. The whole family, even Chester, was capable of the same expression, like they knew something about you and didn’t plan on telling. The longer Deuce peered at him, the more Zane wondered what was up. “Something on your mind, Deuce?”

“Not usually,” Deuce responded with a grin. “I’m just sort of curious,” he added thoughtfully as he looked over at Ty. “About you two,” he clarified.

Zane’s eyes slid to Ty to check his reaction. His partner had narrowed his eyes at his brother, but he was still smiling slightly, like they were about to play a game he enjoyed.

“Another interrogation?” Zane said, amused. This could either go well… or not. There was potential for all sorts of questions Ty might not want answered for him.

“I don’t interrogate,” Deuce answered with an easy grin. “That’s my brother’s job. I just listen when you give me answers.”

“I’m sure you listen very well,” Zane allowed after a long moment’s pause. But before he said anything else, he glanced over at Ty for some sort of comment.

Ty rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to dance around it. He knows.”

Zane’s brows jumped. “Knows… what… exactly?”

Ty tilted his head and gave Zane a look that asked him not to make him explain. Zane leaned back into the chair and considered. He suspected Ty was talking about them fucking around. But if he wasn’t….

“Interesting,” Deuce drew out with an obvious smile.

Zane took his time speculating how this conversation might go. Deuce merely smiled at him widely and rocked. Zane shook his head; he hated playing head games with shrinks. It took a lot of concentration that he just didn’t want to muster. He was supposed to be on vacation, after all. “I just might learn to dislike you,” he said conversationally.

“You won’t be the first, Slick,” Deuce responded easily.

Even if he wanted to, Zane honestly didn’t know if he could manipulate Deuce. The man was too much like Ty. Zane shifted in the armchair and shrugged. “What are you curious about?”

Deuce narrowed his eyes and glanced at Ty again. “You got him on the hook, man, ask away,” Ty advised, smiling slightly.

Deuce nodded and glanced back at Zane speculatively. “I think I got my answer. But we’ll talk later,” he decided as he pushed himself out of his chair. “Right now I gotta see a man about a shovel,” he said easily as he walked past and toward the front door.

His lips curving into a rueful smile, Zane watched the man walk out, knowing he’d let himself be outplayed. Now, Deuce would know he could broach the subject at any time, and he knew Zane would have been thinking about it and dreading it all the while. “Goody. Something to look forward to,” he muttered before looking up at his partner.

Ty was watching his brother, smiling slightly as Deuce let the screen door bang shut. The look in his eyes was almost one of pride. “Pain in the ass, ain’t he?” he asked softly as he looked back at Zane.

“Like someone else I know,” Zane said pointedly, though he smiled to offset it. It was obvious Ty loved his brother very much. It was odd to find brothers just two years apart in age and not see at least one point of contention between them.

Ty shrugged unapologetically. “He’s a hell of a lot smarter than I am,” he warned.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Zane said. Then the proverbial light bulb came on. He shifted his full attention to Ty. “That another reason you brought me here?” he asked mildly. “Your shrink brother?”

Ty met his eyes and sighed. “If it was, would you be pissed?” he asked.

The corners of Zane’s lips turned up. “Probably,” he admitted. “But I suppose I’d forgive you.”

“Good,” Ty grunted. “’Cause you caught me.”

“I’m too comfortable to kick your ass right now. Remind me, and I’ll do it later,” Zane said, leaning his head against the back of the chair, scooting his feet on the floor so his legs stretched out. Ty nodded agreeably, looking like he thought he might have dodged a bullet. But Zane wasn’t ready to let him off the hook. “What does your brother know?”

Ty cleared his throat and looked toward the kitchen, where his mother was making quite a bit of racket as she prepared her pies. He stood and nodded for the front door. “Let’s take a walk,” he murmured.

Zane sighed before pushing himself up and out of the chair, and he gestured for Ty to lead the way. Ty pushed through the screen door and put a hand on Chester’s shoulder in passing before clomping down the steps into the front yard. When they got into the soft grass, Zane started patting his pockets, looking for his cigarettes.

Ty shook his head and held out a pack, shaking it at Zane tauntingly. Zane grimaced and swiped at it. Ty easily evaded him and slid the pack into a hidden pocket inside his jacket. “No ruining my mountain air with cigarette smoke,” he said sternly. He didn’t hint at when, where, or how he’d gotten Zane’s cigarettes from him. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">