Read The Eagle and the Fox (A Snowy Range Mystery, #1) for Free Online Page A

asked, “Where’s Becca?”
    “Getting a dose of disappointment.” Josh nodded toward the approaching crowd.
    “How’s that?”
    “The new reverend’s married with a baby on the way.” Well, shit... Talk about disappointing. Josh flipped his head toward the door. “Here they come. You want to sit with us?”
    Double damn shit . Marcus grimaced. “Sorry, Petilune’s staked out a spot in the back. I suspect her Ma’s not quite recovered from last night. Besides, I want to ask a few questions about that date, if you get my drift.”
    “Well then, good luck. And let me know, okay?” He moved toward the front and settled the girls in their seats.
    Marcus joined Petilune, feeling thankful for the view. From his vantage point he had a good line of sight toward Josh’s profile. If the preacher wasn’t up to snuff, at least he could daydream. While he was waiting for the crowd to settle, he spotted an unfamiliar face lounging against the wall toward the rear entrance to the restaurant. It was a teenage boy—dark haired, dark eyed—and those eyes were drilling holes in Petilune.

Chapter Four
Courting
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    J osh nudged Marcus’ elbow. “So whatcha think about the new reverend?” He took a bite of hot dog and swiped at the ketchup and onions tumbling onto his newly minted beard. Muttering, “Damn it,” he tried balancing the overloaded plate and cup of beer in an effort to reach the pile of napkins weighted down with a rock.
    Marcus grabbed a handful and stretched up to dab away the mess. “Here, let me get that for you.”
    “Thanks.” Josh tilted his chin, letting Marcus fuss for a bit. It was oddly intimate, having the man touch him, especially around the scarring. It was delicate how he did it, taking care not to press or scrub like you would with a kid. Spitting on your fingers and rubbing away the stains, making a clean spot, then making it a joke and getting the kid to laugh. It was like Marcus knew it was more than a stain. It was a memory and a reminder of how, in an instant, your body could change and become different.
    On his face the scars were raised and ridged, too whitish smooth to be natural. Inside it was even worse, because you didn’t get to see it, and if you couldn’t see it with your eyes then you saw it in your imagination. That made it a mystery and it took away some choices. Choices like him growing a beard to hide the scars, though he’d been coming around to the idea that it was maybe drawing attention rather than distracting from the disfigurement.
    Why he cared was a puzzle he’d yet to solve. It wasn’t like he was anything to look at. But the thigh bone, the hip and the fake knee... Now those made the real difference, because seeing to his family meant he needed to be strong, to take on more than his share of the load. To give back for them stepping up and taking charge of his recovery, going the extra mile every single time, even when it cost them damn near everything.
    Him still limping, still getting his sea legs and figuring out how to work around the stock without putting himself or anyone else at risk... that was the challenge. The pain didn’t help either. It wore a man down some days, made it less easy when his brain short-circuited without notice, or he failed to recognize triggers he’d already identified as putting him at risk.
    Having Marcus set him off last night had been confusing as hell. It had been more than the touch, it had been how the man had shown compassion. His going off the rails made no sense then, still didn’t.
    But now, here he was again, Marcus touching him, but that same spark of dread, that feeling of plummeting in freefall off a cliff? There was no inkling of that. Instead he found himself leaning into the kindness and appreciating it for what it was... something friends did for each other.
    Marcus was scowling, intent on cleaning up the mess. Josh inhaled the man’s scent, the wash of barbeque and pickles and spicy