Wild Trail (Clean Slate Ranch #1)(67)
“Avery’s the historian?” Off Mack’s nod, Wes said, “I have faith in you. I really do. Every time you talk about the restoration, I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice.”
“Yeah. And I never would have found it if it weren’t for you.”
“Me and my spooked horse.” Wes made the joke, because the tender feelings in Mack’s eyes were a little overwhelming. So were the tender feelings warming his own belly.
“Come on, pal,” Colt shouted. “We gotta get you back and dressed.”
Mack pulled him in for another kiss, then walked toward the truck. Climbed inside. Wes watched the pickup pull away down the dusty road, until it disappeared from sight. His heart tugged in that direction, but he’d see Mack again soon. This time, as Wes drove away from the Clean Slate Ranch, he wasn’t saying goodbye. Instead, he was starting something completely new.
Chapter Seventeen
Mack scanned the pickup area at San Jose International Airport, searching for the face on his phone. Avery had emailed him a photo, so Mack didn’t have to do the goofy, curbside sign thing, but it was still hard to pick someone you didn’t know out of a flowing crowd of people. Didn’t help that he hated airports. Always busy, always crowded, always lots of people ready to mow him down with their rolling suitcase if he didn’t pay attention.
He’d sent a brief description of himself to Avery, too, and he was wearing his blue ranch polo to stand out better. Mack ignored the occasional curious glance thrown his way, because yeah, he looked a little like a hayseed in the big city. Funny how cities no longer felt like home.
A familiar-looking face emerged from the latest stream of passengers. The man spotted him and grinned, and that was definitely Avery Hendrix. The picture didn’t do him justice at all—not that Mack was cruising, but he could appreciate a handsome man. Tall and thin, he walked like he could take on the world and do it with a smile. He had dark brown hair that hung down past his chin in flat, shiny layers that offset his heart-shaped face.
“You must be Mack Garrett,” Avery said, extending his right hand while his left pulled a small, carry-on rolling suitcase with a giant rainbow sticker on it. “Avery Hendrix. Pleasure.” He had a slight lilt to his voice, suggesting he’d grown up in the northeast.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Hendrix.” Mack shook his slim hand, impressed by the firm grip.
“Please, call me Avery.”
“Mack.”
“Excellent.”
Mack directed him toward his waiting car. He attempted to stow the suitcase for Avery, but Avery put it into the trunk himself, after retrieving a tablet from a front sleeve. “We’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us,” Mack said. “You need a pit stop before we hit the road?”
“I appreciate it. I have a bladder the size of a lima bean, and I’d also kill for a chocolate milk.”
He left the odd milk craving alone. “I’ll find us a Kwik & Convenient before we hit the highway.”
Avery barely waited until Mack was thirty seconds away from the airport before turning on the tablet. “I absolutely loved the photos you sent me, and I know you said you’d had trouble finding any real information on what might have been up there, so I did a little digging on my own but I don’t have anything concrete yet.”
Holy cow, that had all been in one breath. Catnip, indeed.
“Okay,” Mack said.
“Well, I started by looking into the history of the town of Garrett. Interesting last name, by the way.”
“My family’s been up that way for generations. Plenty of stories about the ranch, but none passed down about a ghost town.”
“Understandable. Judging from the pictures and architecture, I’d guess it was built during the height of the Northern California gold rush, which occurred between 1848 and 1855. Did you know over 300,000 people moved to California hoping to strike gold? Anyhow, a lot of towns popped up around even the smallest veins, because everyone wanted to strike it rich. Gold fever, you know?”
Mack’s hand jerked on the wheel. “There could be a gold mine up there somewhere?”
“It’s hard to know without doing a proper search of the land, but even if a mine exists, it’s likely the town failed because they either mined all the gold, or they didn’t find anything after all. Like I said, we won’t know until we look.” Avery swiped over his tablet. “I’ve only just started searching, but I did find hints to suggest there had once been a town in that approximate area that was mostly destroyed by a big fire.”
“Really?”
“It’s just a mention, no town name, but it gives me a starting point in doing additional research. If you hire me for this job, Mack, I’d like to do as much investigating as I can. Your tourist attraction will be stronger if you have the history of the town it once was, steep it in its history, instead of having to make it all up.”
“That sounds great.” They’d already discussed a fair salary, and the more Avery spoke, the more excited Mack got about offering him the job and getting a yes. Of getting his project past the basics and into actually building, restoring and creating something amazing. Something he could show off to Wes, so Wes could see what he’d discovered.
He’d had such a great time on Saturday night with Wes, and his blood still hummed with the decision they’d made to continue dating, to see where this thing between them went. Between Wes and the restoration, Mack hadn’t been this settled and happy in a long time—even if, in the back of his mind, he didn’t quite trust it to last.