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Epilogue
CARRYING THEIR BOOTS, Cade Gallagher and Damon Harrison crept out of the ranch house’s front door as the grandfather clock in the living room struck twelve. Breaking the house rules was serious, but in this case it was necessary.
After shutting the front door carefully, Cade avoided the porch board that squeaked as he walked over to the steps and sat down to put on his boots.
Damon lowered himself to the top step. “You got your knife?” His voice cracked a little because it was still changing.
“Yep.” Cade’s voice had changed months ago, and he had to shave every two days now. “You got the matches?”
“Yep.”
Cade pulled on his boots and stood. “Ready?”
“Yep.”
After taking the steps slow so he wouldn’t make too much noise, Cade started toward a grove of trees beyond the main corral. They’d picked out the spot a week ago but had waited for the full moon. It was playing hide-and-seek with the clouds tonight, but the clouds hadn’t dumped any rain, thank God.
After reaching the small clearing, Cade scanned the area. He was the first foster boy taken in by the Padgetts, and he’d used his seniority to claim a leadership position. Damon hadn’t bucked him on it. “Looks okay. Nobody’s messed with our campfire.”
“Nope.” Damon produced the matches, lit one and touched it to the small pile of dry leaves and branches they’d heaped in a circle of dirt surrounded by stones. The branches caught instantly.
“We need to make this quick.” Cade sat cross-legged on the ground. After opening his pocket knife, he dipped the blade into the flames. “It won’t burn for long.”
Damon held out his palm. “Do it.”
“Maybe you should do your own.”
“No, you.” He squeezed his eyes shut and shoved his hand toward Cade.
So Damon was scared. Cade thought about asking if he wanted to forget the whole thing, but Damon wouldn’t like the suggestion that he was a wimp. Cade had never sliced into someone before, but this had been his idea, so he had to hang tough. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed his friend’s hand and made a small cut across the base of his thumb. Blood oozed out.
Damon winced and kept his eyes closed. He looked a little pale, but that might have been because of the moonlight.
Letting go of Damon’s hand, Cade held his own palm steady and applied the knife to the same spot. It hurt, but nothing like the beatings he used to get from his old man. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Damon opened his eyes. “We’re supposed to say something, but I don’t think I remember it all.”
“That’s okay. I’ve got it.” He positioned their hands so the cuts were aligned. “Just hold on.” As Damon gripped his hand, Cade said the words they’d written down and he’d memorized.
“On Thunder Mountain Ranch in the state of Wyoming, we swear to be straight with everyone and protect the weak. Bound by blood, we declare ourselves the Thunder Mountain Brotherhood. Loyalty above all.”
“What you guys doing out here?”
They both cussed and scrambled to their feet as Finn O’Roarke walked into the clearing. He’d come to the ranch two weeks ago and was still feeling his way. He was only a little younger than Damon and Cade, but he seemed more like a kid.
Cade found his voice first. “Damn it, Finn! Don’t ever sneak up on a guy like that. I could’ve knifed you!”
Finn narrowed his eyes. “You’re not supposed to be out here. House rules.”
“Hell, we know that,” Damon said. “But we had business to attend to.”
“And now you’re blood brothers.” In the flickering light, Finn’s expression revealed longing mixed with hesitation.
Cade was a sucker for that look. He remembered all too well how it felt to be an outsider who didn’t have the nerve to ask to be included. He glanced at Damon. They’d been talking about this for a long time, before Finn ever showed up. They’d decided being blood brothers would be cool, maybe even cooler than if they’d had the same parents.
But now here was Finn, who would probably be thrilled to be part of it. Cade couldn’t blame him. It had to be hard to show up at a foster home and the other guys were already friends. Cade lifted his eyebrows and hoped Damon would get the silent request.
Damon sighed. “Yeah, fine.”
Cade looked over at Finn. “You want to be a blood brother with us?”
“I wouldn’t mind.” His attempt to sound casual was a total failure.
“You have to cut your hand. Or let me do it.”
Finn’s jaw tightened. “I’ll do it.”
Cade wanted to laugh but didn’t dare. Finn didn’t know that Damon had been too scared to cut his own hand, but Cade wasn’t about to rat on his new blood brother. He handed the knife, handle first, to Finn.
“Where do I cut?”
“Here.” Cade held his palm out.
“Okay.” The kid might seem young, but he had balls. He made the cut. “Now what?”
“Press your hand to mine while I say the words. Then do it again with Damon. That way you’re bonded with both of us.”
Finn was a whiz at following directions. In seconds the thing was done.
The flames had nearly gone
