Read Online Circle Eight Millennium: Lazarus by Beth Williamson - Free Book Online Page A

sat like a brick, sloshing and burbling.
    Pa wasn’t in the house, which could only mean he was in the barn, likely tending to his horse. It was the same thing Laz used to do, that most Grahams did when there was turmoil in their lives.
    He walked across the achingly familiar ground toward the barn. It had been painted sometime in the last couple of years, the color darker than he remembered. A few yearlings milled around in the corral, tossing their heads and posturing for each other. Somewhere a dog barked and chickens chattered. It was all so normal and yet it was foreign to him.
    Laz stepped into the barn, his eyesight adjusting to the darkened interior. The scents of horses, hay, shit, and other familiar smells hit him hard. He closed his eyes and breathed in. As long as he told himself he didn’t belong at the Circle Eight, then he hadn’t missed it. What a pack of lies he’d told himself.
    He missed this place and everyone and everything. His pride was bigger than the state of Texas, consuming his decisions until he’d not been able to see what he’d done. Perhaps he’d be able to repair his relationship with his father. Perhaps not.
    Laz walked toward the back left corner. The largest stall was there, the one his father had always claimed for his own. The low sound of murmuring grew louder as he approached. His stomach also flipped a few times.
    The stall door was open, hanging like a gateway to his past. He took a deep breath and stepped into the doorway. His father ran the curry brush down the flank of a spectacular quarter horse. The gelding was probably five years old and was flawless.
    “He’s a beaut.” Laz didn’t realize he was going to speak until the words tumbled out of his mouth.
    His father’s hand stopped in mid-brush. “His name’s King. He’s Ten Speed’s get.”
    Mention of the stallion that had been Laz’s lifelong friend, Ten Speed, made him smile. “Is he still providing stud service?”
    “Nah. He’s spending his days eating grass and napping, just like an old man.” The brushing resumed. “Didn’t expect I’d see you before I cocked up my toes.”
    “I deserved that.” Laz leaned against the stall door. “I’ve got no excuse. I was full of pride and a self-hate, and I let Mama down. I let you down.”
    Pa turned to look at him, his expression ringed with sadness. “Lazarus, you never let your Mama down. She loved you to her last breath, no matter if you were there to hear it.”
    Laz’s throat tightened. “I’ve missed this place.”
    “You back for good or you fixing to disappear for another ten years?” His father frowned. “I ain’t getting any younger. Your sisters might stick around the ranch but they’ll need help.”
    “I’m a ranger, Pa.”
    “That don’t mean you ain’t a Graham. The Circle Eight can’t go on without a Graham at the helm.” Pa patted the horse’s neck. “Violet took on the breeding plans. Iris and Rose handle the financial and business end of things.”
    “Sounds like there’s no need for me.” There hadn’t been a need in a decade. Laz didn’t belong anymore.
    Pa held out the curry brush. “None of my girls have the touch with the horses that you do. Vi schedules the stud service, but she needs you. We all do.”
    Laz stared at the brush, the sides worn and smooth from the hands, Graham hands that had used it on horses. Here was his chance, a peace offering from his father to wipe away the sins of his past.
    It was so damn tempting.
    “I don’t deserve it.” The words were almost torn from his throat. “I’ve done nothing to contribute to this ranch or the family.”
    His father didn’t lower his hand. “There’s something I learned in life, son, it’s that everyone deserves a second chance.”
    “I burned through all my changes the first eighteen years of my life.” Laz tasted bitter regret but he could not accept what he didn’t earn.
    “Bullshit.” Pa threw the curry bush into a bucket, the clang