cool night, and he bent to check Luger’s paws, hiding the flush. Not that Doc— Zander, he wants to be called Zander in his mother’s house— not that Zander would notice, or care.
Yasmin eventually lowered the light. “I don’t see anyone. Stupid kids. Like we don’t have enough to deal with.”
Zander said, “You think it was kids?”
She looked up at him, her expression hidden in the dark. “Who else would it be?”
Zander glanced toward Brian, then shrugged. “Someone out to cause trouble?”
“Not Damon,” Brian protested. His brother always came to people’s minds when there was trouble.
“Of course not him. Other folk.” Zander’s voice went colder, and Brian was transported back to the bouncing deck of a disguised boat out on the ocean, with guns and flames and blood. To a cold-eyed criminal and a deadly explosion and the things they’d all done—
“You don’t think…?” He glanced around nervously. No way. If Turov’s people had found them, they’d be kidnapped or shot by now, not standing around staring at a crashed tractor. Right? An icy finger ran up the back of his neck, but he didn’t want to put any of that into words around Yasmin. He didn’t know how much or little Zander had told her. Right now, she didn’t look at Brian like he was a risk, a time bomb, or crazy, and he liked that.
“I don’t know what I think.” Zander ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “It makes no sense as a threat. Probably was some damned kids.”
Yasmin swung her light toward the barn. “We’d better check in there. I hope someone catches the little bastards and takes a switch to their behinds. And makes them pay damages. I didn’t need this.”
Zander reached for the flashlight. “Let me look, Mama. You stay here.”
Yasmin didn’t let go. “I’m not some fragile flower, young man. You can come along.”
“I’ll come too.” Brian took a better grip on Luger’s collar. “Heel!” Luug gave him a look that registered as disgusted, but obediently ranged alongside his left knee. Brian bumped the furry Belgian Tervuren’s solid shoulder, feeling safer. Luger was even better than a gun. He wouldn’t know how to shoot a gun.
“Stay behind us.” Zander strode toward the gaping door with Yasmin at his side.
It seemed wrong having the biggest person— and the one armed with a guard dog— hiding in the back, but he didn’t argue. Luger still swung his head side to side as if sniffing for enemies, but his hackles slowly lowered as they approached the barn. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when Zander snapped on the lights to reveal nothing out of place but the tractor. Another switch brought up the spotlights, bathing the farmyard in a bright white glare. Brian pivoted, but saw nothing unusual— parked cars, outbuildings, the dim shapes of trees beyond.
Yasmin ran her light over the sliding track for the door. “Looks like they greased it up. I wondered why we didn’t hear it screech when they opened it. Damned thing’s been sticky forever.”
“Kind of prepared— for kids.” Zander swiped the top track and looked at the black traces on his fingertip. “Didn’t you say other farms have had trouble recently?”
“Yeah, a few.”
“Any of them owned by white folk?”
He and Yasmin exchanged glances, but she said, “Yes. The horse farms for sure. It’s probably not that.”
Brian wished he knew what to say to help. “Should I check out the tractor? Or I could, um, turn Luger loose, maybe?” He wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but the dog was trained to guard property.
“Not a chance.” The glare Yasmin gave Luger showed she hadn’t forgotten or forgiven him for chasing sheep the day after he arrived. “Zan, check the tractor. Tell me if it’s as bad as it looks.”
Zander muttered, “I’m a doctor, not a mechanic.”
His mother kicked his shin with her bare foot. “You better not have forgotten everything you learned on the commune. Go have a look. You’re wearing shoes.”
“You should be too. Give me the light.” Flashlight in hand, Zander headed toward the crashed tractor. Despite his denial, he moved confidently as he checked the front and underside. When he came back to them, his high forehead was deeply furrowed. “In my medical opinion, it should be eased out of this life with as much motor oil as it takes for pain relief. Sorry, Mama, looks like a major repair, if it can be fixed at all.”