He’d always teased her that she looked like a boy. Her small stature and her short hair never helped her argument that she did not look like a boy. It brought a smile to his lips to watch her. She looked free—yes, free from everything when she rode. It was a beautiful thing. He pulled up and parked outside Eric’s newly built house. It was hard to believe that only six months ago the house had been a pile of ash and stone and that Eric had almost died in that fire. He could already see Susan’s womanly touches with the flower pots on the front porch. She was good for Eric. Tyson never thought he would have cared, but he did. Before they knew they were brothers, he and Eric had left a few marks on each other. He supposed that could be what they called making up for their lost childhood together. Though, at the time, Tyson was sure, they were both out to kill the other. Pulling his truck next to Eric’s, he turned off the engine and looked out over the fields in the direction of his home.
