by Cassie Cole
“Were you that close to her?” Cindy asked.
“That’s the best part,” Daniel chimed in, face red. “She was from Omaha! He’d never even met her!”
“I was just a kid.”
Cindy was hyperventilating with laughter now, knocking over her empty glass while slapping the table. Chase made more unhappy noises from his corner of the table.
“The best we can tell is Chase saw something on television,” I explained. “A soap opera or something where a person ran up to a casket and screamed that they couldn’t live any more, that he would rather die than be without them, yadda yadda.”
Chase whirled back around in his chair, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “I was the baby of the family. I got dumped in front of the TV more than you two did!”
Our laughter and teasing went on another few minutes before we all had tears in our eyes.
“I needed that,” Cindy said. “Oh, Jesus. My chest hurts. I think it’s time for bed.”
She pulled her legs off my lap and stood, and we all stood with her. Daniel came around the table and surprised us by hugging her. Before pulling away, he whispered something in her ear.
“That’s incredibly sweet of you to say,” Cindy said.
That made Chase come forward and hug her too. He seemed to hold her extra long, and I felt a pang of jealousy at seeing her body wrapped up in his muscular arms. When she kissed him on the cheek I almost turned around and went to bed immediately.
But then she turned to me and pulled me into a hug, which made my jealousy melt away. Man, did she feel good. Warm and soft, with hair that smelled like lavender. I couldn’t think of anything profound to say like Daniel, so I just held her tight. A strong hug was always good enough by itself.
Before we pulled away, she put her lips next to my ear and said, “After they’re asleep, come back down and tuck me in.”
And then she walked away, disappearing around the corner of the kitchen.
Upstairs, Chase and Daniel argued over who had given Cindy the better hug. I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed in silence, my mind running as fast as a bronco who escaped from the rodeo.
I got in bed, turned out the light, and stared at the ceiling.
Waiting.
I went over it in my head. The first time was a mistake. I knew it as soon as we were done, when Chase almost caught us in the act. I’d known it since then. Hell, the three of us had just had a conversation about waiting until after to make any moves on Cindy. It was hypocritical of me to have done what I did, and even worse to consider doing it again.
But it was such a wonderful mistake…
I imagined her body that day in the kitchen, pressing me up against the wall and knocking the bag of frozen peas to the ground. You know what was an underrated moment in the two-person dance of love? When a woman lifted her butt up to slide off her pants. A cute little shimmy right before things got good. I loved that moment. I couldn’t stop thinking about Cindy lifting her butt off the kitchen counter, depositing her pants and panties onto the floor. Opening herself for me.
Wrapping her legs around me and pulling me in.
And just like that, the logical part of my brain lost the battle. I ached for Cindy. There wasn’t an argument in the world that could have stopped me from climbing out of bed.
I took the stairs slowly, keeping my weight on the outside of the steps to keep them from creaking. Sneaking downstairs was made easier by the floorboards Daniel had replaced. I wondered if he would appreciate the irony. I reached the bottom of the stairs, then turned into the kitchen—
Movement in the backyard caught my eye.
I froze, turning to look. A figure moved across the yard, clearly illuminated by the moon. For a moment I wondered if it was Cindy, leading me somewhere more secluded where my brothers wouldn’t hear. Somewhere we could be loud.
But the figure turned as it reached the barn, giving me a better look. It was far too large to be her. Definitely a man.
The figure disappeared inside.
Fuck, I thought. Before I could stop myself, I grabbed a hammer from Daniel’s box of tools and slipped out the back door to follow.
I was halfway to the barn when I realized the danger I was in. I had no idea who this person was. What if they were better prepared, and I was bringing a hammer to a gun fight? The smart thing to do would be to go wake my brothers, but I was too far along to turn back now. I didn’t want the person to get away, and I had enough alcohol in me that I was braver than I should have been.
Who would sneak into the barn in the middle of the night? Horse thieves were as old as the west itself, but it was a noisy crime. All it would take was a few loud horses to wake the ranch and get caught. A more realistic thought came to mind: what if it was the Honeycombs? If they were daring enough to damage a fence and steal cattle…
I paused at the barn door. I could hear soft noises inside, and light now glowed underneath the door.
Knowing that it was a mistake, I raised the hammer high and threw open the door.
Chase stood in the middle of the barn, tying the straps of a saddle onto a horse. An electric lantern hung from a hook next to the stall, casting harsh shadows. He flinched, then sighed when he saw it was me.
“Jesus Christ my lord and savior, you scared me!”
I lowered the hammer. “Fuck, Chase. What are you doing?”
He hesitated. That’s when I noticed he had changed clothes: he was wearing all black. Black boots, black chaps over his jeans, a black duster, all of it matching his black hat.
“Aww fuck,” I said. “You’re gunna go get the cattle back.”
A determined look came to his face. “They had no right, Landon. They’re Cindy’s cows.”
“She told you it wasn’t worth the hassle.”
“Which is why I’m not hassling her with it. I can go get ‘em myself. A dozen cows can be herded with a rope. That’s about 15 grand they took from Cindy. She could use that money.”
“You think they’re just gunna let you ride up onto their land and take them back?”
“No,” he said, hefting something he’d been hiding behind the horse. “That’s why I brought this.”
The bolt-action rifle was an old model, but looked clean and well-oiled. In the harsh light of the electric lantern it held ominous intent.
“Ah, fuck,” I said. “Where’d you get that?”
“There’s a whole rack of ‘em over there.” He pointed across the barn.
A noise at the door made me whirl—Daniel peeked his head inside, then his body. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Something stupid.”
“It’s not stupid, it’s the right thing to do,” Chase said.
“You’re gunna get into a gunfight on someone else’s property. I don’t care how noble you think the cause, that’s as stupid as nailing horseshoes to a goat.”
Chase looked at the rifle. “What, so I should leave it here?”
“Honestly, I can’t tell if that’d be dumber or smarter.”
Chase slid the rifle into the saddle holster and came around the side of the horse. “Those ranchers are bullies. The worst kind. We can’t stop them from buying this land at auction, if it comes to that. But we can stop them from harassing Cindy in the mean time. It’s the right thing to do. They’re in the wrong. And I’m gunna do this, whether tonight or tomorrow or the next night, so you might as well not try and stop me.”
I knew my brother. He was stubborn. It was one of the things I loved—and hated—about him. He was like a dog chasing a damned tennis ball. Nothing was gunna distract him until he got it.
“Goddamnit,” I said. “Saddle another horse.”
Daniel grabbed my arm. “What are you doing?’
“Making sure our idiot brother doesn’t get himself killed.” I strode across the barn to the peg board, where three other guns hung on hooks. I skipped over the rifles and grabbed an old pump-action shotgun.
“You’re joking,” Danie
l said. “Right? This is all a big joke?”
“I wish it was.”
His eyes widened as I brought the shotgun back. “How do you know that thing even works?”
“It doesn’t matter, because I’m not bringing any ammo.”
Chase brought out the second horse and tightened the saddle over its back. “If you’ve gotten over your mental block, you could come help us.”
Daniel recoiled like he’d been struck.
“No?” Chase said, soft and brutal. “Then get out of our way.”
Hoping I wasn’t making a big mistake, I gave Daniel a look of apology as we rode out into the night.
25
Cindy
I waited in bed like a kid on Christmas Eve. Except my present wouldn’t be waiting under the tree.
There was no use avoiding what I wanted, I’d decided in my drunken haze. We’d already messed around once—what was one more time? It was all physical, with no strings attached. A nice way to pass the time until we all went back to our normal lives.
I changed into my sexier panties: the cotton white ones with the lace, and a seam up the back which accentuated my ass. They rode up on me when worn underneath jeans, but I wasn’t planning on wearing anything else. And I wasn’t planning on keeping them on for long.
Fuck, I could already feel Landon’s fingers curling underneath, sliding them down my thighs slowly…
I waited, my anticipation growing until I couldn’t stand it.
I looked at the bedside clock. It’d been 20 minutes. I didn’t hear anything upstairs. What was he waiting for?
Feeling frisky, I decided that if Landon wouldn’t come to me, I would go to him. And I didn’t give a damn if his brothers heard.
Wearing only panties and a t-shirt, I strutted out of the bedroom.
I was shocked to find Daniel sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of whiskey held in both hands. He hung his head and didn’t look up.
“Oh. Hey,” I said. Was this why Landon hadn’t come down: because his brother was up? “Uhh, decided to have one last nightcap?”
“Chase and Landon left.”
I scoffed. “They left? At midnight? To do what?”
He finally looked up at me with eyes that were red and swollen. “To make a big mistake.”
26
Chase
We rode across the ranch like bandits in the night.
My blood pumped hot. This was what it was all about. Defending what was yours like the cowboys of old. Not taking shit from anybody. Protecting the people you cared about.
Opening the gate and crossing onto Honeycomb land was like crossing the border into another country. Declaring war.
We were doing something. Finally.
It felt wonderful.
This was what Cindy needed. A strong arm to protect her property, for as long as it remained hers. I didn’t care if she thought we were being reckless. She would eventually see that we were right.
I desperately wanted her approval. I knew this was the way to get it. A dramatic show of strength and passion. Like in the movies.
We came across the herd when we were halfway across the Honeycomb property, still about half a mile from the structures of their ranch. The cows were sleeping, scattered across the ground like brown leaves. I stopped well short of them and continued on foot, taking only my rifle and the length of rope.
“Still think this is a mistake,” Landon said next to me.
“You’re free to leave at any time.”
He cursed under his breath. “Gunna be a pain in the ass finding the Jameson branded ones.”
“Good thing we’ve got all night.”
The cows moo’d calmly as we approached. They were too sleepy to care, especially now that we were on foot. Only one or two rose to watch us; the rest remained sleeping on the ground, their heads curled around like big brown cats.
“I’ll start on this side,” Landon said, resigned.
With small flashlights, we began checking the brands on their flank, just above the hind leg. The Honeycomb brand was the letter H with hexagons all around it. I rolled my eyes at how artsy it was. The Jameson J was far more rustic. A simple brand for a simple task.
RFID chips would be the norm in the future. Texas was already working on laws to make them mandatory in all cattle, to better track disease across herds and breeds. Then we’d need to bring an RFID scanner with us to check the microchips implanted in the base of their necks. I was glad we weren’t there yet. It felt far too technological for a rancher’s job. People were always trying to make a simple job more complex than it needed to be.
I’d gotten so used to seeing the Honeycomb brand that I almost skimmed right over the first J that I saw. I came back to it a moment later, nodding to myself. Here was evidence of their wrongdoing, literally in the flesh. Property that had been stolen from Cindy.
“Found one,” I whispered, petting the cow’s head while lowering the rope from my shoulder. I tied it around the cow’s neck and helped it to its feet. Still sleepy, it lumbered along slowly as I dragged it out away from the herd. The moment I dropped the rope, it laid back down and went to sleep.
It was slow work. The herd was close to a thousand cows, and despite our best efforts it was difficult to tell which cows we’d checked and which we hadn’t. When we did find more Jameson cows, we had to muscle them along to the outer part of the herd to tie them up with the others, all on the same long length of rope.
“How many were stolen?” Landon asked.
“Cindy said a dozen.”
“We’ve got 10 here.”
I took one last look at the herd. We’d done about as good a job as possible, given the circumstances. “Let’s go.”
We woke the cattle and mounted up, then gently drove them before us. Herding a group tied by rope was easier than a full herd, since they could only wander as far as the slack allowed. We moved at an easy walk, then a light trot, toward home.
I shouldn’t have expected it to be so easy, but then again, I wasn’t thinking straight.
Headlights flashed behind us suddenly, casting long shadows across the night terrain. Two, three, four sets, all accompanied by the rising whine of engines.
We kicked our horses into a gallop, driving the cows faster. I stole a glance over my shoulder: a four-wheeler was directly behind me and closing fast. Within seconds it had caught up, turning to ride alongside my horse. The rider shouted something lost over the sound of the vehicle and the sound of my horse’s thunderous hooves.
We could have kept going. Riding straight to the property line, which was only another hundred feet away. Unless they were planning on opening fire or ramming our horses, they had no way to stop us. In fact, Landon was signaling exactly that: make for the fence.
But I wasn’t just here for the cows.
I slowed my horse to a walk, then a full stop. Landon kept going with the cows, then slowed when he realized he’d lost me. He waved and shouted, but I was already turning around to face our pursuers.
Five four-wheelers spread out in an arc, the outermost two at my flanks. At a glance I recognized Francis and Herald Honeycomb in front of me; the other three must be ranch hands. I sat in my saddle casually. Like I was out for a stroll.
“Well now,” Herald’s large shape drawled. “Got ourselves a couple of cow thieves.”
“You’re the thieves,” I said. “These are Jameson branded cows.”
Herald guffawed, a cartoonish sound. “Why, we can’t control how the cattle wander. And even so, we can’t be sure these cows are yours.”
“The brands look clear to me. And we know you cut the fences.”
Herald glanced at his posse. “Boy, he’s smart. Bet he’s got his GED and everything.”
“Why?” Landon asked, riding up next to me. “What’s the point of tormenting a grieving girl by stealing her cattle?”
“It’s not about the girl.”
“Then what?” I asked.
Landon stiffened in his
saddle. “I get it. This about the ranch valuation. Broken fences, inaccurate head counts, inability to control the livestock. It’s all to lower the value of the ranch, so you can buy it for cheaper at auction.”
“That one definitely got his GED,” Herald said.
I couldn’t believe he was admitting to it. Right here in front of us. The gall on this man, this bully, made me blind with rage.
“You son of a bitch,” I said. “You’ll pay for this.”
“Doubt it,” Francis said. He waved an order to his ranch hands. “Circle around and drive the cows back. We need them to prove to the bank the Jameson ranch is falling apart.”
Smooth as silk, I pulled the rifle from the saddle holster, took aim at the four-wheeler on my left, and fired. The front-left tire exploded, causing the vehicle to slump and the driver to yelp and jump to the other side to take cover.
“Chase!” Landon hissed.
Calmly, I pulled back the bolt to discharge the spent casing, moving it forward again to chamber another round. I lifted the rifle halfway to Herald, but not directly at him. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Francis. He didn’t appear to have a weapon, but it was dark, and tough to tell what he had concealed under his coat.
“Y’all better head home, now,” I said. “Hate to see more of your property get damaged.”
My threat didn’t seem to scare Herald. In fact, it made him smile. “Gotcha.”
The police siren came out of nowhere, a scream of red and blue. I could have run, but the sight of the lights made me drop my rifle to the ground and freeze.
“You boys have a reputation,” Herald sneered. “Not just the one who can’t ride. You, son. Though I expected you to try this two nights ago. I guess your restraint should be commended.”
The sheriff flew from the cruiser with his gun drawn, shouting orders. I kept my hands in the air while he kicked the rifle away, then did the same with Landon’s shotgun, which he’d also thrown down.
“You were right,” the sheriff said to Herald. “The low-lifes couldn’t keep away.”
“We were just getting our property back,” I protested numbly.
