Chapter 5

Chapter Five

At the breakfast planning meeting, with Nate, Jay, and Gabe around the table, Tyler watched the discussion unfold. Nate was angry and Jay had taken the role of placating his upset partner.

“I’m not having drones on the ranch again,” Nate repeated for what must have been the third time, and Tyler winced at Nate’s horrified expression. It wasn’t as if he’d suggested that they close down the ranch to continue surveys. Everything had been going well until he’d casually mentioned that he’d be happy to give the ranch copies of any drone footage he took so they could use it in marketing. He was halfway through explaining how cool it was to see places from up high when Nate had gone into semi-shock, pushed his chair back, and jumped up.

“No more drones,” he’d snapped. “Your people messed with my horses, and I won’t have that again.”

The people that Nate mentioned would have spent the longest time collecting data and might well have run roughshod over the ranch, but he couldn’t speak for them. “We have the original ground surveys, but with shifts in the terrain, we need to undertake a limited aerial survey of the site itself,” Tyler explained. “I need to get up and take some?—”

“More drones wasn’t part of the deal,” Nate interrupted and began to pace the small office. “Your office said you’d be off-site and we wouldn’t even know you were here. But if you’re using drones, you’ll scare the horses, and what about our guests? They’ll accuse us of invading their privacy. Jay, sort this out.”

Jay glanced at him and then to Tyler. “Nate’s right; I’m not sure we signed up for more drone usage.”

“Fuck, was it in the contract we signed?” Nate looked at Jay, who frowned at him.

“No, it wasn’t,” Jay said.

Tyler held up his hands. “This would be remote to the ranch, nowhere near the horses or guests, and actually there wasn’t a real contract signed as such for us to be on the land. You know we can go to a site if it’s in public interest.”

Jay narrowed his eyes, but he couldn’t argue that point. The Bureau had decided that the far western side of Crooked Tree was a prime location for the station, and had sought enough agreement to make sure the landowner knew what to expect. They didn’t need a formal agreement at this level, and the disruption would be small anyway. That didn’t mean Tyler was going to ride roughshod over Nate or the others, despite them having little choice in his being there.

“Have a piece of cake.” Gabe interrupted Nate’s pacing and thrust the plate of cakes under his nose. Gabe was Nate’s brother and the less emotional of the two, it seemed. Mention horses and that was Nate’s territory, and one he guarded jealously.

Gabe continued to talk. “He didn’t mean he’d use the drones where it would affect us.” Nate threw a quick look at Tyler, who nodded immediately. Nate took a slice of lemon drizzle cake and sat again; he didn’t actually eat the cake, but it had been a good tactic from his brother to get him to calm down. Once he was sure everyone was settled, Tyler carried on.

“The footage would exclusively be of the area where we plan to install.”

Nate muttered something, but he was too far away for Tyler to hear him.

“And the supplies you need hauling up there?” Gabe changed the subject, and Tyler was grateful for that, given the way Nate was glaring at him.

“The office said they spoke to you about hiring in someone for the week to help with transport and support? Or maybe you can spare a staff member? They said I should talk to you.”

“We have it covered,” Jay said.

“We do?” Nate sounded surprised.

Nate sent him a look that spoke volumes, but Tyler was too focused to wonder what that all meant.

Tyler spread out another map and cleared his throat. “Okay, that’s good. Right now, I’d like some advice on getting to the exact place I need to be,” he said and gently nudged the map toward Nate. “I imagine we’ll take this off road to as close as we can. What do you think?”

Nate peered at the map, cake crumbs falling onto it, which he brushed away. “West Seven. That’s part of the Springs complex, so as I said to your office, you’ll have difficulty with full vehicular access, but depending where you place the thing, then we should be able to get close.”

The seismic station with seismometer, digitizer, and electronics buried in a polypropylene vault, plus a surface-level solar panel and satellite dish was more than just a thing. It was two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of equipment, and Tyler had jumped through official hoops to get agreement for the installation. He wasn’t going to remind Nate of that though and waited for more.

Nate trailed his finger along a line on the map, then tapped at something thoughtfully. “Used to be an old cabin there; at least I recall one from when I was a kid. Also ground water; you’ll want to watch that.”

“I know the terrain,” Tyler said. “The stability of the land at this point is what led me to Crooked Tree, but I’m aware of the issues with the water table.”

Nate nodded, evidently respecting what Tyler was saying. “Let’s talk logistics then. You have the off-road vehicle. I can give you detailed information about the place you need, but then you’re on your own.”

“Apart from Martin,” Jay said, and the room went silent as Nate choked on his bite of cake. Gabe patted him on the back, but he was looking at Jay, and his expression was that of a very confused man.

“What do you mean, Martin?” he finally said and thumped Nate again.

Martin? Wasn’t that the guy who’d helped him with the rock, the one who’d run off after the offer of a beer? Unless there were two Martins working on the ranch, which was statistically possible. The thought of the Martin he knew being his company for the next week was one that filled him with equal parts trepidation and anticipation. How many times last night had he wanted to bury his hands in Martin’s soft curls and hold on tight while kissing him like there was no tomorrow?

And, as to helping Martin off with his coat as opposed to unsnagging it from the rock? Yep, that was on Tyler’s to-do list after last night. There was so much emotion in Martin’s expression: curiosity and fear and possibly even a spark of attraction? That was wishful thinking, but if it had been there, then maybe some hot sex in a tent could be in the cards? Tyler couldn’t recall the last time he’d… oh yeah, he did. Yan Evers, fellow research scientist, June, a pretty satisfying one-night stand after the Earth Interior seminar in Massachusetts. That was, God, nearly a whole damn year ago. Since then, it had been his active imagination, coupled with his right hand. Actual sex? Actual kissing? With an actual man as appealing as the quiet Martin? Now that was worth thinking about.

It was Jay’s turn to clear his throat, which snapped him out of his woolgathering. There was tension in the room, Nate facing off against Jay, muttering something about how in hell Martin was on the list of possibles, and that he’d do it if he could take his horse.

Jay finally pressed a hand to Nate’s chest. “Listen to me, Nate. It was Justin who suggested that Martin be the one who accompanies Tyler to site and camps there to assist because Ethan and Adam are coming home earlier than expected, and Justin needs time.”

A hundred things passed silently between Jay, Nate, and Gabe, each man apparently working through something that was way over Tyler’s head. Finally it was Gabe who spoke.

“Okay then,” he said. “That’s decided, Martin will go with you.”

It turned out that Martin definitely was the same guy who had dropped off his groceries and helped him carry a rock, and abruptly the idea of spending time alone in the wilds of Montana sounded much more fun. Okay, so Martin didn’t talk a lot, and he was closed off and private, but Tyler decided his own personal brand of charm would be enough to finally break through the man’s shell. It didn’t have to lead to sex or to hand jobs or even kissing; it could just be friendship. Martin was so easy on the eyes, and as he helped to load the Jeep, his muscles bunched and released in all kinds of interesting ways. Not that Tyler would make it obvious he was looking. It was just the odd cautious glance that was part of his way of sizing a person up.

Martin didn’t smile, but he worked harder and longer than any other man standing at the loading zone who were joking about the wilderness and survival rates. Even Nate was joining in, although Tyler wondered if that was him making sure ‘Tyler and his damn drone’ left without causing problems. When they were all done with the technical equipment, it was just food that needed to be loaded. The location was a good five-hour drive from there, and there was no point in them coming back and forth for provisions, so they had containers of meals, cereals, cans, emergency rations, and while they stayed fresh, a supply of cookies, cake, and biscuits.

The generator fit snugly next to the small camping stove and a backup supply of gas, and there were the parts for a bathroom tent, complete with a makeshift shower and a portable composting toilet. Tyler loved his work, he loved camping, but gone were the days when he would curl on the ground next to a fire and dream of the earth beneath him. He wanted a cot, a toilet, and somewhere to get clean, and that was non-negotiable. He expected to get rough around the edges, but hell, he wanted some comfort when he spent quiet evenings staring at the stars.

Which had him wondering if Martin was the kind of man who liked to stare at the big open sky. Was he someone who would want to talk about the stars? Or the sky? Or geology? Or was he a sports kind of guy, in which case the conversation would be one-sided as Tyler wasn’t a follower of any teams worth noting.

Finally it was time to do the last-minute checking of lists and the itinerary, and then there was nothing holding them there. Martin deferred to him to drive, but that was okay; he’d driven worse terrain than this backcountry. The easy bit was getting off the ranch complex, and they took narrow tracks past cabins, staying at a low speed in deference to the guests. Then it became harder as they headed out and up over meadows that changed to become a climb, with rocky outcrops. The satellite mapping system gave them a clear direction, but it took a lot of concentration to get this far.

“You doing okay?” Tyler asked after the first half hour of complete silence.

Martin glanced at him and nodded. The action loosened curls that he’d tucked behind his ear, and he pushed them back. His eyes were an intriguing shade of icy green, pale and rimmed with the darkest and longest lashes that Tyler had ever seen on a man. Add the softness of his lips and the darkening stubble, and the package that was Martin, kind of skinny but sexy, was gorgeous.

“If you want to drive…” Tyler suggested, but now Martin shook his head and turned face front, the huge paper map backing up the satellite navigation system gripped hard on his lap. The rocks smoothed out as they drove over the plane, and for want of anything else to do, he began to talk.

“Right here, there used to be a huge lake, did you know that?”

Tyler saw Martin peer out of the side window, so at least he was showing interest, but still he didn’t talk. It was going to be a long week if he was working alongside someone who didn’t enter into discussions, so he carried on.

“There was a glacier in the last ice age, and it blocked this valley, just like the one down at Lake Missoula. Have you ever been to Lake Missoula?”

Martin shook his head.

Tyler sighed at the memories of his time at the Lake. “I spent an entire summer there, with an ex. He was another geologist though, and even though we were an item, we disagreed on the water depths that were exposed by the laminated rocks.” He realized what he’d explained, and Martin shot him a look, but it wasn’t one of disgust or disdain. If anything, he appeared mildly curious.

Tyler would take that over indifference or condemnation any day.

“Anyway, we didn’t last long after the summer. He was an arrogant ass. You know the type.” He cleared his throat, aware he needed to stop talking. Then he stopped the car and pointed up at the sloping sides of the valley. “So, at Lake Missoula, a lobe of ice crept south and blocked the Clark Fork River. That’s right near present-day Sandpoint, Idaho. A huge lake of glacial water formed behind the obstruction, and you can see the steps in the hillside. Just like here. Can you see them?” When Martin didn’t seem to be checking it out, Tyler prompted him again.

“You need to look at them to understand what I mean.”

Martin shot him a pointed look then, turning back to stare at the steps in the land. “I’m looking,” he said.

“Okay, so they’re actually the old shorelines of the lake, at all its different levels, steps eroded away by the ebbs and flows of water. Missoula was over four thousand feet deep. I don’t think this one was as deep as that. Still, it’s pretty cool, right, to see the steps and know that where we are was under thousands of feet of water. What do you think?”

There, he’d asked the silent man a question, and in a normal situation, the other person would give an answer.

“Cool,” Martin murmured, still staring out of the side of the Jeep.

“Tough audience,” Tyler said with a smile. “Now, what else can I tell you that’s interesting. Oh yeah, you see how we were driving over undulations in the ground, like up and down? When the glacier melted just that bit too much, the same as at Missoula, the entire lake here abruptly emptied, and these layers were ripples caused by the departing water. The prairie ranch road we’re on goes over the evidence there was even a lake here to start with. If you get a drone, you can look down and actually see the rise in the terrain and then the fall, like a giant has dropped a stone into a pond.”

“A giant,” Martin murmured after a short pause.

“Yep, a giant. A big fuck-off giant dropped all these boulders as well.” Tyler pointed at the boulder next to the car. “A giant glacier deposited those, carried them for miles, and then dropped them as the ice split. They’re all over the prairies, and we call them Drop Stones.”

Martin shot him a look that spoke volumes, as if Tyler was boring, but Tyler wasn’t an educator without reason. He loved geology, got excited about every single layer of mud and stone beneath his feet, and if Martin was going to sit there silent, then Tyler was going to damn well fill the silence with the sound of his own voice.

“We use varves and rhythmites to unravel a lake’s past; deposits are laminated. That means layered like in pastry. The river silts are lighter in color, and glacial lake sediments are darker. Fascinating, right? Also, there is rock flour all around here, where stones were crumbled from erosion, and some of the smaller rocks, if you apply enough pressure, will disintegrate in your hand. Rock flour isn’t exactly like flour, not fine deposits. Sometimes it can be entire strata in a cliff face.” He clicked his fingers. “Oh, and I know you said you haven’t been to Lake Missoula, but when the lake drained violently, the currents scoured out the depression that holds Dog Lake. Awesome walks around Dog Lake. Do you like walking?”

“Yes,” Martin murmured. “Shouldn’t we get going so we reach the campsite while we still have light?”

That was possibly the longest sentence that Martin had uttered since getting in the car, and for a brief moment, it threw Tyler.

“You’re right.” Tyler edged forward, and they continued on their way.

I won’t let one taciturn cowboy mess with my head. I’m going to enjoy the hell out of this. Martin could either join in or not. No matter. Tyler had done plenty of isolated fieldwork since he’d been big enough to understand his world; probably around the age of three. He had his mom and dad to thank for that, and he would be forever grateful.