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roads, heading north to the highway,” Cat told Wyatt.
    “That dirt road on the east side of the Guadalupe Mountains,” Wyatt explained to Tal, “eventually hooks up with a major highway about twenty miles north of our ranch.”
    Hank stirred, placing his empty plate on a nearby TV tray. “Yeah, it appears Mark is starting to use that route for his drug smuggling activities. He went back to drug running as soon as he got out of prison.” His brown brows dropped. “And he’s on Rocking L property committing a crime. And I’m not puttin’ up with him doin’ it. I won’t have part or parcel of drug runners. Mark was always a good kid, but somethin’ changed him, and no one knows what it was. I don’t know why he threw his lot in with that drug gang out of Nogales when he left the Marine Corps. Makes no sense to me. But we have a problem, and it has to be resolved.”
    “Did you call the Border Patrol?” Wyatt asked. He saw Mattie give him a distressed look. He’d always known that Mark and Mattie were sweet on one another. Regret stirred deeply in Wyatt. Mark, his little sister Sage, Mattie, and himself had grown up close. They were always a foursome from age six onward. Through twelve years of school, Wyatt considered Mark another brother. He had been a good kid growing up, despite the abuse his father, Jeb, constantly doled out on him.
    “They’d like us to get video or photos before they act, Wyatt. The problem was the four pickups had mud on their rear license plates. That’s a drug runner tactic,” Hank said.
    “What about getting a drone to fly over?” Wyatt asked. He felt alarm that a major drug cartel was thinking they could use his family’s property with impunity. It broke his heart that Mark was involved in it. He felt Tal stir, sensed her discomfort, too. Damn, he was sorry that this topic had been brought up tonight. He wanted this to be a vacation for her, not get her involved in this kind of shit. And it was shit of the worst kind. It just didn’t make sense to Wyatt that Mark had once been an honest, caring person with integrity but turned to the dark side. What the hell?
    Wyatt gave Tal an “I’m sorry” look and decided he should talk to his dad about this in private.
    “Dunno about a drone,” Hank said. “It just happened two weeks before you arrived, and we’ve been a little busy around here with Christmas and getting ready for you. Plus, it happened during the Christmas rush, so there was very little law enforcement around. You know how it is around here during the holidays, Wyatt.”
    “Well, how about we table this until we can talk privately?” Wyatt suggested.
    He saw his dad give Tal a studied look. “Good idea, son.”

CHAPTER 3
    “H ow’s that ankle of yours feelin’?” Wyatt asked Tal. He had her sitting comfortably on his old brass bed, leaning against the headboard, pillows behind her back, her bad ankle over his thigh as he gently massaged it.
    “Mmm, better,” Tal said, closing her eyes.
    “Did you take your medication?” Wyatt asked her, sliding a glance her way. She had just come out of the bathroom after soaking in the old claw-foot bathtub. Her black hair was still up in a mussed topknot. She looked tired, and he knew traveling with her bum ankle had taken a toll on her. Tal would never complain about pain. It just wasn’t part of her makeup. As a Marine Corps sniper, she’d always worked hurt. It might not have been broken bones like this, but, as a mountain goat climbing around in the Hindu Kush of Afghanistan, out in brutal weather and other harsh conditions, bruises, cuts, scrapes, and even a strain were tolerated so she could successfully finish a mission.
    “No, you know I didn’t.”
    Wyatt chuckled and continued to tenderly ease the swelling out of her once-crushed ankle. He did this every night when they were home, and he especially wanted to do it when he was on the road with her. “I think we did a little too much walking around the