Now Turn North

by Ridley C. James

Set after Nature Versus Nurture and Warriors. It's the Fourth of July in Austin, Texas. But fireworks and the Texas heat aren't the only things running hot. James and Jack must come to an understanding about where they stand in Mac's life. Mac must decide whether his father has a place at all.

1. Chapter 1

Now Turn North

By: Ridley C. James

A/N: This story follows my stories Nature versus Nurture and Warriors. It is not completely necessary to have read those but this will probably make more sense if you do. Also, it is slightly AU in that I created a bit of back story for Jack. That can be found in my story Unexpected Detours. Thanks to Mary, who corrected mistakes and made this so much better.

RcJ

"You have made your way around this hill country long enough, now turn North." –Deuteronomy 2: 3

James MacGyver was not sure what to expect. He'd read intel about the Narrow Path Ranch in Austin Texas, having thoroughly researched Jack Dalton's family before agreeing to Matty's suggestion that he choose the former Delta Force Operator for the job of Overwatch for Angus. James had studied satellite imagery of the home place, compiled dossiers on its occupants in more depth when he learned his son had gone there for an extended stay after returning from Afghanistan. It was the typical research he performed before sending his agents' on missions. Angus had returned many times over the years during his work at DXS and currently Phoenix. Now that James was making his way down the meandering path lined with friendly full-leafed oaks and bordered by a rustic split rail fence he could see, although somewhat begrudgingly, the allure of such a retreat.

A break in the tree line gave way to a rambling giant of a three story pale yellow house with white shutters that sat stately in a clearing in the distance. The wide wrap around porch with its wooden rockers and generous swing spoke to southern summer nights and even though he was in Texas and not Georgia or South Carolina, James couldn't help but to envision it in its prime as something from a grand plantation.

As he drew closer his imagery of dandy gentlemen and courtly bells was slightly skewed by the big Ford truck pulled in the drive, mud splattered and attached to the largest, luxury horse trailer James had encountered. When he stopped the car and a portly pig wearing what looked like a Dallas Cowboy's jersey tightly stretched over its ample girth waddled towards his rental, he concluded the scene was decidedly more Louis L'Amour western than sweeping Gone With the Wind saga. After all, his welcoming party was far from Scarlet O'hara baring Mint Juleps on the veranda. Instead, JP Dalton was the single occupant on the porch, sitting on the wide steps, a menacing shotgun resting across his lap, a big sweating Mason jar of what might have been sweet tea gripped in his hand.

James tightened his grip on the steering wheel, peering at the patriarch of Narrow Path through his dust covered windshield. He recognized him of course from the file he'd composed. Thick crop of silver streaked hair, worn longer and unkempt in a style Angus had adopted lately. He had a mustache and a goatee that lent a Sam Elliot air to him. The black Stetson and worn cowboy boots completed the picture.

Before James could change his mind about accepting the invitation to join his son at the ranch for the Fourth of July and slowly back out of the drive, JP stood, cradling his gun in one arm, as he lifted a hand in greeting, acknowledging the visitor's presence. It was too late to make a hasty retreat. Once again, James considered the wisdom of making the trip to Austin, but solidified his decision and exited the car, grapping his bag from the backseat. As JP descended the stairs, James noted that Jack Dalton shared his grandfather's build, as well as his looks. Tall, lean and sturdy, the older man did not look over seventy, but hearty and capable. Simultaneously appealing and quietly menacing, like the leading men of the westerns both Daltons probably idolized.

The wall of heat that hit James when he exited added to his list of reasons to just head on back to LA and work through the holiday. It was only mid-morning but had to be in the eighties already. It was harsher and far more oppressive than the fair-weather of the west coast. Sweat dotted his forehead, had his shirt sticking to his back. The grunting and snorting, followed by a sudden pressure on his feet was enough to have him forgetting the beating sun and breaking eye contact with his host to look down. He found the unusual pig greeter thoroughly investigating his shoes.

"Get on out of there, Dodger," JP admonished as he strode towards James. His voice was commanding, broke no room for compromise. "Go on. Git."

James briefly wondered if the tall Texan might have been referring to him, some kind of Southern entreaty to move along before buckshot became involved. He considered the wisdom of not returning promptly to his car, but when James met his gaze, the older man offered a hint of a smile.

"You'll have to excuse Dodger. That pig has no damn mind of personal space. He'll have his snout stuck in a man's crotch like he's rooting out truffles for dinner if you're not careful."

James took a wary step back, holding his bag in front of him, though he imagined JP was teasing him just a bit. Dodger grunted happily as if he was in on the joke, but moved away from the newcomer. "He's wearing a Cowboy's jersey."

James wasn't sure why those were the first words out of his mouth, instantly cursing his inability for finesse with small talk, but JP laughed again.

"Of course he is, son. You're in God's country. Texas. Did you think he'd be stupid enough to support the Steelers when most days he's one step shy of being on my wife's bad side and thus close to being prominently featured on the breakfast menu. Ol' Roger Dodger is many things, but lacking in wiliness in not one of them." This time JP's smile showed perfect white teeth. "He's smart enough to dig up Beth's flowers and frame the dogs for the offense."

"Pigs have the intelligence of a human toddler."

JP scratched his chin, nodded, eyes briefly going to the pig. "You must be Angus's daddy. James is it?"

James ducked his head, frustrated that he was even slightly nervous in front of this horse rancher when he was quite capable of holding conversation with heads of state and was in fact held in high regard by some of the most powerful men in the world. He called forth his practiced smile, placed his bag on the ground and extended his hand. He felt beads of sweat trickle down his neck as JP studied him with his steel gray gaze. "Yes. Excuse my manners. I'm James MacGyver. Angus's father."

JP finally accepted his hand with a firm grip, his eyes never leaving James's. "We were expecting you later this afternoon, James."

"I got an earlier flight." James returned the tight grip, leaving out the fact he'd purposively arranged for one, the habit of liking to always be one step ahead hard to break, especially when he felt like he was entering hostile territory. "I hope that's okay." He let go of JP's hand, gesturing to the rifle the older man was still cradling. "And that the fact you weren't expecting me, means that's not meant for me."

JP didn't laugh like before, but instead maintained that easy smile James had witnessed so often when Jack Dalton was presenting his good old country boy reuse to hide the fact he was so much more than what one might gather from first appearances. He shrugged. "Nah, this here is mostly for show. Mostly. My great granddaughter is bringing some beau home with her for the first time and I want to make sure the fox is clear on who's guarding the henhouse if you know what I mean."

James wasn't exactly keen on what the man meant, but he gathered he was referring to Riley Davis and her latest love interest. He recalled Jack had dated Riley's mother when she was a child. "I bet you're talking about Billy Colton." James breathed some easier, recalling the fact that Riley and Bozer would be arriving later with their respective partners. It was one of the reasons he'd come earlier, hoping for some time alone with Angus before the rest of his son's team arrived and he had even more reason to avoid any interaction. "If it makes you feel better, I did thorough background checks on him and his family when they first worked a joint venture with our foundation. He seems to be an upstanding young man."

"Wyatt said as much." JP glanced to the gun, sliding fingers down the shiny barrel. "Which is why this is filled with rock salt. Pellets sting like hell, but they're not deadly." He then returned his gaze to James. "I keep my favorite sidearm for the genuine bad guys."

The insinuation was not veiled. Gone was the good-natured smile. JP's gaze glinted like steel and James would have sworn the temperature plummeted when Dalton's jaw clenched. He wasn't surprised. Matty had warned him he very well might end up planted in the back forty before the trip was over even as she encouraged him in her not so sweet way to put his big boy pants on and accept the invitation any damn way. Admittedly, their relationship was a complicated one, but as usual he found himself wanting to be the man she believed him to be. He cleared his throat.

"This is a beautiful place you have here, Mr. Dalton." James looked out over the rolling hills beyond them, effectively changing the subject. His gaze landed on the three horses that had made their way closer to the fence line not far from them.

"Call me JP," Dalton finally said, offering what seemed like a fragile truce. "Mr. Dalton was my daddy."

"Was this his ranch?" James chanced another glance at the older man, knowing that JP's father had no link to the equine empire his son had built.

"Hell no." JP looked riled again but James no longer felt his life was in any imminent danger now that they were onto another topic, although wayward fathers might not have been the best option. "The old stubborn bastard never even saw this spread. He was a railroad man. Just like his daddy. Thought all his boys should have followed in his footsteps and stayed to the rails, although my sweet momma had her eye on me for the one priest in the family. He wasn't brave enough to buck up against her, all her Catholic saints, and her iron skillet, but he wasn't one to give his son a consideration."

"Still, you made a go of it. Sometimes we have reasons for going against the grain of things." James hoped his point was subtle as he once more swept a gaze over the open fields. "You had enough fortitude to build something that will survive long after you."

"What I had was an unshakeable affinity for horses, and not the damn kind that powered a train engine." JP nodded to the big animals now nickering to them. Another kind of smile twitched around his big mustache. "And a consuming passion for a certain brown-eyed southern beauty whose pleasing figure and southern drawl made me lose all the little common sense any eighteen-year-old boy was ever graced with in the first place. I bought this ranch in part to woo her."

"So the Narrow Path is a love story?" James hadn't really considered it before, mostly because he wasn't exactly the romantic kind, but the same could be said of DXS-Phoenix. It had literally risen from the ashes of his relationship with his late wife. Of course he'd thrown himself into the re-imagining of the organization only after he'd lost her. It was part survival strategy, but also an attempt to somehow make her proud of him. His eyes met JP's. "It's your legacy."

"It's true I love this ranch." JP watched him for a long moment and James began to worry for his safety once more, although he wasn't quite certain of his misstep. JP let his gaze go to the horses, inclining his head for James to follow him as he began to walk towards the fence line. "But my legacy has nothing to do with the land, barns, or even the stock. What I'm leaving behind is Wyatt, and your boy, Angus, too."

"Angus isn't your family." James knew he'd said the wrong thing the moment the proclamation left his lips when he noted JP's posture go rigid. Even though the statement hadn't been heated, and instead offered in a polite, casual tone, James realized he'd struck an unwelcomed chord. Considering Dalton seemed to be eluding to the fact that James's son somehow belonged here among the hills of Texas instead of at Phoenix, at James's side, James thought he was generous with the decorum he managed. The look JP shot him said he didn't feel the same way in the least. In fact, James breathed better when JP put down the shotgun, propping it against one of the rails. He watched as the older man leaned his elbows on the top of the fence as two horses drew closer. James cleared his throat. "Look, I really appreciate all your grandson has done for Angus, but…"

"This is Treaty," JP cut James's narrative off with his proud pronouncement. The interruption kept MacGyver from repeating the spiel he often ran through his head. Given the chance he would have pointed out that Jack had indeed protected Angus in the war, spent years keeping him safe. That of course gave him consideration and leeway to some extent for sure. But it did not give Dalton the right to carry on like he had ties to Angus that weren't in fact true. Surely, JP Dalton could see that.

"She's an Appendix," JP continued on as if James had never tried to speak. "Meaning she's first generation offspring from a Thoroughbred and a Quarter horse." His gaze softened as the horse drew close enough to touch. "Treaty here is what Narrow Path is known for. I decided to raise Appendix after Beth and I got married, as sort of a symbol I guess. Thoroughbreds are refined and gracious, Ouarter horses hard-working, with a muscular substance."

While JP was speaking the horse in question dropped her head over the top rail, blowing and snorting. James could admit she was pretty, the color of sand, except for the tops of her ears and her four feet which were black. JP gave him a rueful glance as he rubbed a hand over her broad head. "Don't ask my wife which one of us is the hardworking one with substance." Dalton turned his gaze back to the horses. "In the Appendix breed, the result is a perfect combination. They tend to be steady, with even dispositions, but are highly competitive, some of them downright fiery. Those are the ones born to race. Come to think of it now, Appendix put me in the mind of Angus and Wyatt."

"On the surface, they seem an unlikely mix," James said vaguely. For all JP knew he could have been commenting on the horses or the men in question. It was ironic that James had done a bit of unusual crossbreeding of his own when he'd thrown Jack and Angus together. As much as it galled him to admit at times, it had been a more than successful venture.

"Treaty's daddy was the grandson of the first Thoroughbred I ever owned. A dark bay, named September Sunrise reputed to have been in Native Dancer's lineage. Boy, he was something." JP continued to scratch Treaty behind one ear, though his gaze went to the fields beyond. "That horse cost me my life savings- blood, sweat and tears from years of back-breaking work bronc busting in Mexico. But he gave me the start I needed when as a two-year-old he was undefeated in his seven starts. People were willing to pay big money for his foals. Still are as his prodigy have always been winners, one even taking the Roses a few years back."

JP suddenly turned to James. "That means Treaty here is a direct physical link to the dream that started all this. I know you probably don't realize, but that practically makes her royalty in these parts, and in the Kentucky racing circuit as well."

"Admittedly, I've never even seen a horse race," James conceded, not sure where the rancher was going.

JP kept one hand on Treaty's head, as he cut his gaze to James. This time his green/gray eyes lingered. "Angus helped deliver her the first time he stayed here with us when he was more boy than man, fresh from a war that mangles bodies and scars souls. I gave her to him before she even hit the hay, or took her first wobbly step."

"She belongs to Angus?" James frowned, not understanding why a man, even an old sentimental one, would give a practical stranger at that point a gift that was probably worth possibly tens of thousands of dollars. He looked from JP to Treaty and then back.

"She loves him." JP nodded, as if that brought everything into perfect clarity. "He loves her. I reckon that pretty much is the definition of belonging."

"Things aren't always so simple." James had a feeling JP once again was trying to make a point. "Or as clear-cut."

"That there is Raucus."JP had a frustrating way of not acknowledging when James spoke. Instead he pointed to one of the other horses, the one that hadn't quite come all the way to the fence. The big golden horse with the blond mane was grazing, but lifted its head now and again to regard them, or likely to eyeball James as the stranger in his pasture. "Wyatt's horse. Part Arabian, part who the hell knows. Definitely not purebred as the salesman tried to claim. Arabians don't carry dilution genes like the distinct palomino color, but Jack still paid the sticker price when Raucus was the last one standing on the auction block. Claimed he reminded him of Roy Roger's horse Trigger, but I just think he just felt bad for the old boy. Beautiful animal, but stubborn as all get out."

"Jack seems to like the underdogs." James thought to comment he could actually see Jack astride a mule, as he'd come to realize his top agent shared a temperament with the obstinate beasts but figured insulting JP Dalton's grandson while the man's shotgun was still in reach was probably a poor idea.

"That he does, but Raucus is a far cry from the first horse Jack called his own."

"Damascus," James commented without much thought, the name easily pulled from the files of his immense memory, slipping out before James could wisely consider the implications of him knowing such a personal fact.

JP looked surprised and rightfully so. "He told you about Damascus?"

James realized the man had every right to be disbelieving. For all Jack's talking, he was selective on the words that actually meant something, ones that could reveal real weaknesses or soft spots. Those were reserved for the ones closest to him. Damascus was after all a story Jack Dalton would not have shared with many, Angus certainly, but most definitely not James MacGyver. JP would also realize, knowing James's son so well, that the boy would never have betrayed his partner's confidence, even to his father, especially to his father.

"I must have heard the name in passing." James waved off the slip with another smile, silently bemoaning his careless misstep. In actuality James had read about Damascus in Dalton's psych files, an intrusion, but one he deemed necessary considering he was at the time considering placing his nineteen-year-old son's life in the man's hands.

JP's brow raised marginally, and his gray eyes narrowed. James had to wonder just how much the man in front of him knew about the true nature of Phoenix and his relationship with Jack, although Angus had warned him that neither of Jack's grandparents were aware of their real work.

"Jack was always one to bring strays home. Dogs. Kittens, claiming them for his own," James said, finally. He leaned against the railing behind him, as Treaty bowed her head and started picking at the taller grass by the fence posts. He kept his eyes on James but James imagined he was looking through him, into a past he shared with his grandson.

"There was an incident with a skunk, and one time he hid a baby raccoon in his room all summer long, that was until it took to swiping Beth's best earrings and her silver. When I confronted him about bringing a wild animal in, he swore to me that it had been left by its momma. That it needed someone to take care of it. It didn't surprise me none. Wyatt wasn't much more than a tyke when he somehow decided to be the champion of any unwanted thing." The words held an undeniable fondness, but JP's eyes remained guarded.

"Angus has never been unwanted." James hadn't realized he'd placed his hands on the fence in front of him until his grip tightened painfully on the wood. His voice had been sharper than he meant, far from the air of cordiality he was trying to maintain. Both horses were now staring at him as if reevaluating his presence. He took a breath to regain his control, but noticed that JP seemed unaffected by his snipe.

"I hope that's true," JP straightened to his full height and James realized that the gun might have been for Billy Colton, but the rancher was just as intent on making sure James was also well aware of who was minding the home place, and what any trespasser might have in store. "But you need to realize that's not how my boy saw it. Wyatt saw a kid in need of someone to watch out for him, and he's moved mountains to make sure to fulfill that role. Angus might not be blood, but he belongs here just the same. You sweeping back into the picture doesn't change anything."

"No disrespect, Mr. Dalton, but I'm not sure how Jack's tendency to bring home abandoned and abused animals due to his own mommy issues or life gaps has anything to do with my son." James didn't even care that he was giving away the fact that he indeed understood more about Damascus and Jack's private life than he should have ever known, instead too bent on getting his own point across. He'd delivered the decree with calm detachment, knowing he'd still stepped on the man's toes by committing the offense he'd held back on doing earlier and insulting Jack.

JP ran a hand down his goatee, his voice as cool and level as James's had been. "When it's in Wyatt's nature-one, mind you, that has nothing to do with anything he's lacking, and everything to do with his generous abundance of heart-to lay claim to the ones he thinks no one cares for, the ones he knows have been wronged by those who should have protected and loved them, then I think it has everything to do with Angus, as well as a whole hell of a lot to do with you, James MacGyver. Whatever your damn reasoning, you left that boy to fend for himself."

James found himself unable to grasp the proper response, at least one that didn't have him sputtering like a mad man in response to the wily rancher clearly calling his character into question when they'd barely known each other for mere minutes. He watched a bit dumbfounded and indignant as JP removed his cowboy hat and began working the rim of the Stetson with his roughened hands. He seemed more than content to let the loaded accusation settle between them as palpable and corporeal as Dodger the pig, whom had plopped his round body on the ground at their feet with a contented grunt.

Dalton appeared completely unruffled on the surface, in complete control of his reputable temper, but James had been in situations with dangerous men enough to read the undercurrent of tension, to recognize just how thin the ice was that he was currently treading. He learned quickly that Jack Dalton for instance was at his most deadly when he grew quiet and still, when the charming southern prattling had dried up and the good-natured smile had been put away. The surprising thing was that James suddenly found he didn't care who he was talking to, or that he wanted to make a good impression on this man whom he knew good and well that his son held in the highest regard. He was no longer willing to heed Matty's warning about the back forty. Certainly, he wouldn't be in the running for father of the year anytime soon, but he had grown weary of having his shortcomings pointed out.

"When Wyatt rescued Damascus and brought him home," JP continued before James could compose himself or fire off the response he was still drafting from his raging thoughts. He droned on as if he were still relating interesting facts about his beloved ranch, instead of tossing proverbial stones in a minefield. His eyes stayed focused on the band he was working. "I paid that bastard of a rancher who'd owned him and hurt him a ridiculous amount of money to let go of any claims he'd long ago forfeited to the animal, as well as any attempts to blame my grandson for taking something from him he lost rights to all on his own. Maybe that's part of the story you haven't heard in passing conversation, but one you should take heed, or as Beth likes to say put a pin in."

James was certain he'd heard wrong. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Surely you aren't actually about to offer me money for my son, some kind of pay off so I'll step aside and let Jack Dalton go on playing at being a surrogate daddy to my kid?" He could feel his face heating up, his heart racing. His temper once good and stirred was dark, and primal, not at all a made up reason he'd listed for bowing out of Mac's life. The oppressive heat and sun beating down on him wasn't helping.

In the back of his mind, of course he realized JP Dalton had made no such insulting overture-yet- that a proposition of that nature was out of character from what he knew of the man. His rational intellect told him of course that it was quite possibly his own insecurities were merely rearing their ugly head, lending him a skewed perspective. He couldn't stop himself. James glared at JP. "Before you embarrass yourself, may I suggest you look up Elwood Davis, offer him such a deal, because from what I understand he might be desperate and sleezy enough to accept. I on the other hand, am not."

JP's gaze snapped from the hat in his hands to lock with James's dark eyes. His thick mustache twitched, but he seemed to wrangle his temper with ease as the words slipped out like warmed honey. "I'm not offering you a damn thing, MacGyver, except for maybe a little taste of the beat down I also gave old Damascus's owner before I paid him one red cent." The threat was somehow more intense for the careful way it was offered. The old man actually chuckled.

"Hell, I didn't become insanely wealthy by being a poor business man. Why pay for something my boy, Wyatt, has already earned lock, stock and barrel for himself? He spent years," JP poked a finger at James's chest, and for the first time his voice betrayed his ferocity. "Years-taking care of your son, giving him the shelter he needed to navigate his way into manhood. And a fine man he's become, as much Dalton as MacGyver, mind you. Maybe it's you that needs to look up that snake in the grass Elwood and have a beer to commiserate. While you're at it you two should make a toast to Jack Dalton for doing your damn jobs."

James opened his mouth, but words failed him. In a blinding moment of truth, he realized he had no defense, and any justification or denial would have been pathetic. As pathetic as arguing with a seventy-five year old man who'd been nothing but generous to James's son. For once in his life, he wisely closed his mouth.

"Further more, Riley and Angus love Wyatt," JP picked up the slack, not waiting for the younger man to forget himself again. "He loves them. Remember what I told you about belonging? My grandson has more claim as father to both those children than either of you lowdown sonsofbitches, biology be damned. A decent stud can breed three times a day. That don't make him a daddy. Angus is Wyatt's family, and by that right, he's mine. You might as well know now,right from the start so there's no misunderstandings later, that there isn't anything I won't do for family."

"Are you threatening me?" The cliché fell from James lips and he was embarrassed when JP snorted, obviously expecting more and actually embarrassed for James as well.

"I'm just giving you fair warning, James."

"Then maybe I should return in kind by telling you that I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I made a mistake walking away from Angus before. It's not one I'm going to repeat."

"That's good to hear." JP ran a hand through his hair before sitting his hat back on his head. He tipped the brim at James, actually smiled. "You might as well stick around a while now that we've cleared the air. I'd hate to have wasted my time for nothing."

"You don't want me to go?" James was confounded, tempted to look around to see if there was some hidden camera or if Matty had planted a mic on him to eavesdrop just so she could yell 'Gotch'a'.

"I don't see that it makes one lick of difference what I want. Beth asked you here. She sure as hell don't let me chime in before she starts handing out invitations, though if I were you I'd mind any baked goods she offers to you and you alone." The old man's mustache twitched again and he blew out a huff of air. "More importantly, Angus wants you here. This is his home, and I'm not about to ask his daddy to leave, especially after he fretted about whether or not to ask you for so long and I actually encouraged him to do it."

"Even if you'd prefer he hadn't." James frowned, puzzled by the fact he found himself not as insulted as he should have been, but actually feeling inclined to be grateful to JP for letting him stay on, for apparently prompting Angus to extend the invite.

"Even if I fear it's not exactly in his best interest," JP clarified. "I can take care of my own damned self. It's Angus I'm worried about. Wyatt, too."

"I'm not here to hurt Angus. Or Jack." James was sincere and it became very important to him in that moment that JP actually take his promise for honest to goodness truth. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but I've only tried to do what I thought was right, what was best for my son. I've messed up, but I want another chance."

James wasn't sure if the old man would have said more, maybe called him on the cheap rhetoric, but the door of the house opened with a loud creak, drawing both of their immediate attentions and saving James any such rebuke. Angus stepped out, followed by two dogs that waggled and weaved around his long jean clad legs. Dodger perked up, getting to his feet with a loud grunt. Moving quicker than James would have thought possible and even scrambling up the steps with impressive agility, the pig made his way over to the boy, bantering for a share of the attention as Angus covered his surprise at seeing his father, by bending over to pet the delighted pig.

"Look what the dogs dragged in, boy," JP called to him, happily, nodding to James as Angus seemed to gather himself and make his way down the stairs, trailed by the menagerie of animals. "I've been introducing your daddy to Treaty."

"Introductions are what you've been up to out here all this time?" Angus kept his gaze locked on JP as he approached, his smile full of affection even as he raised a brow, obviously suspecting there was more to their delay. James couldn't help but to take note that his son looked happier than he'd seen him since the incident in Peru and the disastrous events of Memorial Day, although a bit odd in the Texas getup which included his own pair of broken in cowboy boots, a faded Cowboys tee, and a dusty Stetson that surprisingly suited him.

"James, this is Lilly and Switzer," JP nodded to the approaching Labradors. "Two of the finest hunting dogs never to have run the trail of one damn thing. The only thing they do chase are their tails and a patch of cool shade on hot summer days like this. The closest they've come to a duck is when Beth decided she'd whip up some fancy French dish for my last birthday thanks to a recipe Bozer sent her on The Facebook and I slipped them my portion of the confounded Confit, when I figured out it wasn't anything like fried chicken." The old rancher made a point of gesturing to each Labrador as they greeted James with great affection, tails wagging. Never mind JP was pointing out their failures as sporting dogs, they pranced and preened as if they were being praised and had known James forever and were overcome by joy with his long overdue reappearance. Their bodies quivered with barely restrained pleasure and James suspected as he ran a hand over their heads to appease them, that it would likely be the one truly sincere welcome he might receive.

"See, I'm good at it, if not a tad long-winded," JP concluded when Lilly and Switzer moved back to Angus's side, framing him like matching canine bookends. "You know I had to tell James about Treaty's daddy, and his daddy before that. It led to a philosophical discussion about family which explains our delay in greeting the lady of the hourse."

"And here Nana Beth sent me out in fear you'd be holding a gun on Billy Colton." Angus eyed the shotgun still propped by the fence before returning his gaze to JP. He bumped the rim of his hat back. "We thought Jack was back from the airport when the dogs started up a while ago after hearing a car."

"Now that woman understands I have the manners of fine-bred southern gentleman." JP rocked back on his heels, his mustache twitching as he seemed to fight back a grin. "She should know better than sending a pup out to check up on me, a grown man quite capable of handling himself in such a way as not to bring scorn and shame upon the family name."

"Funny but when I said the same thing, she pointed out that you have often proven yourself to have the etiquette of a gunslinger itching for a showdown, and I quote 'the exasperating nature of a lactating wolverine defending its den of newborn from predators," Angus's grin widened, "Apparently just like your grandson."

"Which one?" JP snorted, not bothering to deny the unflattering comparisons. Instead, he reached up and gripped Angus's neck giving him a slight shake. James recognized the ease at which the two interacted, the way his son leaned into the other man's touch and didn't tense or shy away. He also noticed the ace bandage wrapped around Angus's wrist when he went to playfully knock Dalton's hand away as it went to ruffle his hair in a classic move he'd seen Jack pull. It was easier to focus on his son's injury, instead of the sudden wounding to his pride and the flash of envy he couldn't deny.

"What happened to your arm?" James asked, ignoring the pang of jealousy but once more kicking himself for the awkward first words.

"That would be Jack." Angus gave a pointed look to JP, answering him first about the grandson in question before swinging his gaze to James, who tried not to read too much into it when the boy's smile faltered, fading marginally as his blue eyes hardened. He lifted his hand. "I took a little spill this morning."

"Treaty tossed him in the lake for an unexpected swim when he wasn't paying attention." JP's eyes twinkled with mirth. "Just like a woman to enjoy catching a man with his thoughts and hands where they shouldn't be."

"I was paying attention," Angus defended with what James could tell was feigned exasperation. He stepped past JP to greet his horse who was tossing her head about as if agreeing with her owner's explanation. "I told you there was a rattle snake sunning on a rock. It had nothing to do with how I was gripping the reigns, but if my riding skills were in question," He glanced over his shoulder at Dalton and the easy humor returned to his face, "it just might be your fault I ended up in the lake as you taught me most of what I know."

"I once took you horseback riding when you were nine." James wasn't exactly certain of the age, but he clearly remembered his small son being afraid to get on the horse and him having to explain why it was important for a man to face his fears head on. He squared his shoulders, forcing a smile when both Angus and JP shot him twin looks of incredulity.

"That was a pony at a fair." Angus frowned at his father, his humor fading once more. "It bit me. Twice."

"That would explain a little of why it took me and Wyatt so long to convince him to sit astride a horse," JP glanced from James to Angus, scratching his chin. "Ponies are notorious for biting."

"Lucky thing we can't say the same about rattle snakes in these parts," James countered lightly, trying hard not to match his son's defensive posture or let his impatience show. He was already weary of having the fact he'd missed a lifetime rubbed in his face, but he'd also promised himself he'd take whatever Angus dished out if it meant another chance to make a mends, so he forced a smile to show that he was joking instead of being entirely sarcastic. He tilted his head to study the injured appendage closer. "Where was Jack when all this happened?"

Angus's frown deepened, his gaze narrowing into a familiar warning that his father was treading closely on sacred ground and should step wisely. "Jack was behind me, him and Raucus eating our dust. Right, Treaty, girl?" Angus returned his attention to the horse, Treaty butting her head against Mac's shoulder. Surprisingly Dalton's horse trotted over as well. "We won the race and the right not to have to do any chores today. It was worth the early morning swim. Jack is handling feeding on his own tonight."

"I don't think Raucus like's the competition gloating, son." JP chuckled when Jack's horse whinnied but James wasn't understanding how the situation was one bit humorous.

"You could have been killed."

"That's never seemed to be a priority concern for you before now." Mac's voice went completely cold. He took his hat off, plopped it on the fence post as he ran his hands through his hair in a familiar gesture that spoke to his growing frustration.

"On that note, I better mosey on along and see if Beth needs me underfoot in the kitchen." JP reclaimed his shotgun and nodded to James. "I'll take your bag on in the house as I go."

"That's not necessary…" James started only to have the older man wave his protest away.

"It is if I don't want to sleep with the damn pig tonight. Trust me, for all the flowers he eats, Dodger is no bed of roses."

Dodger grunted as if unlike his canine companions he might have understood when he was being insulted. Still, he hefted himself up from the dirt and came, along with the dogs, albeit a bit more reluctantly, when JP called for them to accompany him into the house.

"I'm sorry," James said quietly when he and his son were alone. He raked a hand through his hair, sighing that once again he'd gotten off on the wrong foot. "I didn't mean to start an argument. Can we maybe just start this visit over?"

"You did come all this way." Angus eyed him, a look somewhere between suspicious and confused battling for dominance. He sighed and leaned against the fence, scuffing the toe of his boot on the ground.

"It's beautiful here." James nodded, not sure what he might say that would alieve his son's wariness and trepidation. He could see now that it was possible that when Angus extended the invitation, he hadn't really believed James would come. He braced his hands on the fence once more, looking out over the green pasture, where Treaty and Raucus were now grazing with other horses. "I can see why you like it."

"It's more the people than the place, although you're right, it's beautiful." Angus glanced towards the house. "Wait until you meet, Beth. You'll understand."

James snorted. "I hope she likes me more than JP."

"Jack says she's an excellent judge of character." Angus cut his gaze to him for a moment. "But she'll be kind and gracious to you no matter what. I hope you weren't rude to JP."

James shook his head. "I'm not sure JP Dalton is a man easily insulted, Son."

"Still, this is his home, and Harry always said you could push the Dali Lama's buttons given the chance."

"Your grandfather would know, but even he didn't know me as well as he thought he did. Neither do you, Angus." James raised his hand in surrender when his son continued to glare at him. "But I can assure you I was on my best behavior. JP, on the other hand…"

"Is like another grandfather to me," Angus interrupted, his face resolutely serious.

"So he made sure to let me know." James had thought it was difficult to compete with a man like Jack Dalton. He was now beginning to realize it wasn't just the single individual that had ensnared his son's affection so completely, but possibly the illusion of American Pie. That dream was hard to compete with, nearly impossible when what you offered was far from the norm of what a family looked like.

"The first time Jack brought me here…" Angus hesitated. "Let's just say I wasn't the best version of myself. This place, along with Beth, JP, Jack and the animals…they helped me heal. The acceptance I felt here, the belonging…It gave me a safe space to let go of what had happened in Afghanistan, to stop the war that was still going on in my head, and move forward."

"Maybe it can work the same kind of magic for us." James was never one to believe in such a thing as magic, but he was beginning to see he would need a miracle to reach his son.

"Maybe. But the battle I have with you isn't up here." Angus met his gaze, touching a finger to his temple. James could see that his son was fighting for precise words as emotions brightened his eyes the way they always had done his mother's identical ones. James felt his own wave of anxiety, but the moment of vulnerability disappeared as quickly as it had come, like an unexpected storm over grasslands, and in its wake appeared a perfectly cool blue resolve that sent a chill up James's spine. He would have almost preferred the fiery look that his wife used to get when she was angry in lieu of the flat, emotionless scape that stared back at him now. Angus shook his head. "I'm not sure even the Narrow Path has the power to change a man's heart."

James chest ached. He hoped to hell his son was wrong, because if not, he'd come a long ways for grilled burgers and a fireworks show.

To be continued…