“Oh good God!” Cort said angrily.

“He was too ashamed to face Mina. It got around school, too. So there went her only real taste of romance.” He shook his head. “She’s had a hell of a life.”

“Her mother should have been prosecuted for child abuse. Seducing a teenage boy!” he scoffed.

“She should have been prosecuted for what she did to Mina,” he agreed. “She hated her only child. I never understood why. Neither did Mina. She suffered after her father took off. Years and years of pure hell until her mother finally died.”

“And I thought I had it bad, with my dad’s model.”

Bart’s eyebrows went up. “How so?”

“She hated me. Well, she hated all of us kids. There were four of us. She played up to us, pretended she was crazy about us, until she got Dad to load her up with diamonds and stocks and bonds and marry her. Then the claws came out.” He sighed, remembering. “Cash hated her from the beginning. He saw right through her act. We didn’t, and it alienated him from the family. Cash got the worst of it because he was Dad’s favorite. Actually, I think Cash was supposed to inherit the ranch, but after all the drama and alienation, Cash said he’d never come back to West Texas, even after Dad saw what she really was and divorced her. Garon joined the FBI and lived all over the country. Parker’s up in Montana, with their State Game and Fish. That left me, to inherit Latigo. Dad said that if I didn’t learn to ranch, the whole place would go on the auction block. So I learned how to ranch.”

Bart was surprised. “You didn’t want to?”

Cort’s smile was world-weary. “I wanted to be a mercenary, like Cash. He lived a life more exciting than anyone else I knew. It sounded romantic. You know, a hired gun, like in the old cowboy movies.” His smile faded. “Only it’s not like that. I joined the Army because I felt patriotic. It sounded noble, you know—defend the country, go overseas to Iraq, fight insurgents.” He leaned back in his chair. “I learned what Cash already knew. That taking a life isn’t as simple as it looks on film. That seeing your friends, who’ve been with you since basic, blown into bits by an IED, having one die in midsentence right beside you from a sniper attack, those things are really sanitized even in the most realistic movies. In real life,” he added coldly, “they’re not romantic. When I got out of the service, I came home and threw myself into ranching heart and soul. I understood why Cash was so alone, why he never mixed with us, with anybody. When Garon opened doors for us with him, I went to Jacobsville to visit. We talked, a lot.” He sipped more coffee. “I understood him then. So did Garon, who’d spent years with the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team. All of us had killed and very nearly been killed. It’s a very exclusive club. Not one any sane person would want to belong to,” he added.