Sticks and Stones by Madeleine Urban ; Abigail Roux Read Free Book Online

higher into the Appalachian Mountains.
    Ty didn’t say much as he drove. He didn’t even have the radio on. He was obviously distracted, resting his head in his hand as he propped his elbow on the open window. Even behind the dark aviator sunglasses and the mangled straw bullrider-style hat that sat low on his head, shielding his face, he was frowning unconsciously. He’d purposely taken the scenic route, avoiding the highways as much as possible, but he got more and more tense as they got closer to their destination.
    Zane was distracted as well, but more by the scenery than by his thoughts or by his companion’s mood. He’d never been up in the mountains, and while Texas had trees, it didn’t have trees like this. Trees in every direction, up the mountains, down the mountains, as far as the eye could see.
    He frowned and shifted his jaw from side to side, trying to pop his ears. “I need gum,” he muttered, looking over to Ty. “You could have warned me. I didn’t even think about altitude change.”
    “Hold your nose and try to blow air through it,” Ty advised seriously.
    Zane peered at him, trying to decide if he was joking. With Ty, it was usually a safe bet that he was jerking him around, no matter how serious he sounded. But since his partner still looked as distracted as before, Zane decided to try it. And damn if it didn’t work.
    “Does it all look like this?” he asked as he pulled at his ears. “All the trees and sky and nothing else?”
    “The sky is usually there, yeah,” Ty answered with a firm nod. “So are the trees, come to think of it,” he added thoughtfully.
    Zane thwacked him, earning a surprised, “Ow!”
    Ty glanced at him and grumbled as he rubbed his chest. Grinning, Zane shifted in the seat to extend his legs across the floorboard as they drove into the town of Bluefield. It wasn’t what Zane had expected. It was large and fairly modern, nestled in a valley and sprawling across a gently rolling landscape. There were sections that were older and slightly dilapidated, but for the most part it looked like Bluefield was doing pretty well.
    They drove through the Main Street area, historic buildings that had been rejuvenated and hosted little boutique shops and cafés. An old man on the corner of the street waved at Ty as they drove past, apparently recognizing the Bronco, and Ty raised his hand out the window and grinned as he waved in return.
    Zane was smiling slightly as Ty took the truck through several turns. Then they were heading further up the mountain. Zane’s brow furrowed as he watched the rustic scenery pass, and he asked, “You don’t play banjo, do you?”
    Ty looked over at him quickly, shock written plainly on his face even behind the sunglasses. “Did Dick tell you that?” he demanded.
    Zane stared at him for a moment and then broke down laughing. “Oh hell, no. I was just making a Deliverance joke!”
    Ty glared at him for as long as he was able before he was forced to look back at the road. “I learned when I was little,” he finally said defensively. “Banjo, fiddle, guitar. The whole family plays.”
    “That’s great,” Zane said once he calmed down a little, though he couldn’t resist another snicker. That just seemed out of character for tough guy Marine Ty Grady. It was almost charming.
    “Shut up,” Ty muttered. “And FYI, Deliverance took place in Georgia. In West Virginia we kiss our cousins.”
    Zane laughed softly. Soon they were out of the city, climbing even further up into the mountains. He had to yawn a couple times to pop his ears again.
    Another five minutes and they were turning off the paved two-lane and heading up a winding dirt road. Ty was getting more and more fidgety, shifting in his seat as he put the Bronco through its paces. Just when it looked like the road might be tapering off into rugged wilderness, Ty turned onto a narrow gravel drive that seemed to go straight up into the heart of a mountain. He glanced at Zane again