I groaned myself awake. The ranch doesn't wait for hangovers. Though this morning I wished like hell it did. After a shower, I felt a little more human. Maybe not fully myself but I could function.

"You need to learn to hold your liquor better," Beth spouted at me as I stepped out onto the porch. I pulled the brim of my hat down and slipped on a pair of sunglasses. That wasn't quite enough to block out the piercing rays of sunlight.

Beth's teasing was a little too much for me this morning, but I had to admit, she wasn't wrong. I wasn't exactly the best at handling my liquor, but after everything that went down with Ryan, I figured I was entitled to a little indulgence.

I gave her a halfhearted glare, which only made her smirk wider. "You think I don't know that?"

"Should've stuck with the whiskey, princess," she teased, leaning back in her chair on the porch. "But I guess you'll learn eventually."

I rolled my eyes and stepped past her, trying to ignore the pulsing in my temples. The ranch didn't care about last night's mistakes or regrets. The work needed doing, and I was going to drag myself through it—hangover or not.

"I'll handle it," I muttered, my voice rough from the lack of sleep and a little too much rum. I adjusted my hat again, hoping to block out the sun's relentless assault.

"Yeah, yeah," Beth replied, her tone more lighthearted now. "But don't expect me to come running to save you when you get stuck out there with the cattle."

"You still not riding?" I asked.

"You know I don't get near those things," she responded. I knew. But I'd hoped after this long, maybe Beth would have conquered that fear. It wouldn't do any good to push. Especially not my sister. She would push back harder and stronger.

"Guys already head out to do that thing at the reservation?" I asked. Though the silence in the house already gave me my answer.

"I know the spectacle is your kind of thing, but you missed this one," she responded.

"I guess I'll try to get some training in then," I said. "I haven't trained since I got here. Might get rusty."

"I highly doubt that, but go easy today," she said then slinked back into the house.

I chuckled at her words. Beth had a way of making me second-guess myself, but I didn't need her to remind me that I wasn't as rusty as I might've felt. Training was my release, my way to focus, and I was ready to get back into the swing of things.

The barn was still quiet when I reached it, but Denim was already waiting, as though he knew what was coming. He had a way of making everything feel just a little bit easier. I ran my hand down his side as I approached, giving him a small smile.

"You ready for this, old friend?" I whispered, even though I knew he'd be just as ready as I was.

I saddled him up with practiced ease, the movements automatic, even in my foggy state. As I tightened the cinch, I took a deep breath, letting the familiar scents of the barn ground me. The anxiety and heartache of the past few days melted away, replaced by something more tangible: the work that needed to be done.

With one last glance at the empty barn and the quiet ranch, I rode out, knowing that this was the part of the day where I could escape. The world outside was big, wide open, and full of possibilities, even if it didn't feel like it sometimes. I just needed to find my rhythm again, and maybe, just maybe, everything else would fall into place.

I slipped through the straps and hung off the side, I felt unsteady for the first time in a long time. I breathed and gripped tighter trying to regain my balance. I felt it falter and I found myself in the dirt.

I lay there for a second, staring at the sky above me, a mix of frustration and embarrassment swirling inside. The sting of hitting the dirt wasn't as bad as the blow to my pride. I pushed myself up, shaking off the dust as I stood. Denim, thankfully, hadn't moved far, his ears twitching as he turned his head toward me.

I took a moment, breathing through the burn in my chest. It had been a while since I'd fallen off like that, and the reminder that things weren't as easy as they used to be stung a little more than it should have.

"I think we'll take things easy today," I told Denim as I swung back up in the saddle, "remind me not to drink with Beth anymore."

I'd settled Denim back in his stall when I saw the trailers pull into the drive. One was loaded with ATVs, the other was loaded with horses. Rip was shouting at the new guy, Jimmy, to get his ass on a horse. At least someone was having a tougher time riding today than me.

I rounded the barn as Jamie, Dad and Lee, wearing his Livestock agent vest, were coming out the other side.

"Both tonight?" I heard Jamie warn Dad.

"Everyone's forgotten who runs this valley," Dad said back.

"This is not how you remind them, it's a bad idea," Jamie continued.

"We don't choose the way, little brother," Lee responded then gave me a knowing look.

They were making a stand.

I felt a cold knot tighten in my stomach. Whatever they were planning, it was more than just another day on the ranch. The tension was thick in the air, and I wasn't sure if it was from the heat or something else.

Jamie was still trying to reason with Dad, but I could tell there wasn't much room for negotiation. When Dad made up his mind, nothing short of a tornado could change it.

"You know it's not gonna end well," I said, my voice quieter than I wanted it to be.

Lee looked over at me again, his expression unreadable but sharp. "Maybe it doesn't end well, but you don't let things slide either."

"You're talking about a war, Lee," I shot back, my heart pounding harder with every word. "It doesn't just affect the men in this family. It affects all of us."

Lee didn't respond, just kept walking toward the trailers. Dad, on the other hand, gave me a hard look. "You're still here, aren't you? You still got a place in this family."

The sting of his words made my chest tighten, but I wasn't going to back down. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of their decisions pressing down on me. Whatever was about to go down, I wasn't sure I was ready for it. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn't have a choice.

Dad climbed into the ranch helicopter. And took off into the distance. Lee climbed into his Livestock vehicle, Ryan in the seat beside him. The knot in my stomach grew tighter as I watched them all take off down the road.

"Tell me it's not as bad as I think it is," I stood with Jamie as they headed off into the horizon.

"Don't worry," he tried unsuccessfully to reassure me, "it's gonna be fine."

I shook my head, not buying it for a second. Jamie's words felt empty, and I could see the worry in his eyes even if he tried to hide it. "Jamie, I know you're trying to keep things calm, but this... this feels different."

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I know. But there's nothing we can do now. You know how Dad is—when he makes a move, it's already too late to change his mind."

I looked back toward the horizon, where the helicopter had disappeared and the Livestock vehicle was a tiny speck in the distance. It felt like everything was spiraling out of control, and no one could stop it.

"We're gonna get caught in the middle of this, aren't we?" I asked quietly, half to myself.

Jamie didn't respond immediately. When he did, his voice was heavy with the weight of the situation. "We already are."

I felt my chest tighten at his words. The idea that we were all being dragged into something we couldn't control, something bigger than us, made me feel small. I hated it.

"We need to stay focused," Jamie added. "There's no turning back now. But we'll get through it. We always do."

I nodded, even if I didn't fully believe him. I wanted to. But there was something in the air—something unspoken—that told me this wasn't just another disagreement. It was a storm brewing, and we were all standing right in its path.

I turned and headed into the house, the scent of fried chicken filled my nose. Lee's favorite. My stomach rumbled reminding me that I hadn't eaten all day. So tonight it would be my favorite too.

The table felt empty, just me and Jamie. Dad and Lee's chair sat ominously empty. Like even the chairs themselves knew that something was going to change after tonight. Beth was in town, working on her "project" for the ranch.

The weight of the silence was thick, heavier than it should've been. I set the table, my hands moving mechanically, as I tried to push the feeling of impending change out of my mind. Jamie watched me, his expression unreadable, but I could feel the tension radiating off of him.

"You're quiet tonight," he finally said, his voice low.

I shrugged, trying to keep my voice steady. "Just thinking. About everything. About what's coming."

"Yeah." He looked over at the empty chairs, his eyes lingering on them for a moment before he sighed. "I know. It's hard to ignore. But we can't control what Dad does, and I think we've all learned that by now."

I nodded but didn't reply. There was nothing I could say that would change the truth. Our father was unpredictable, his decisions always carried weight. And tonight felt like the calm before the storm.

The food was served, the silence between us growing more uncomfortable with every bite. I couldn't help but feel like this was the last calm dinner we'd have together. Something was on the horizon, and no amount of fried chicken could make it go away.

"Is it just me," I started, trying to break the tension, "or do you feel like something's... off?"

Jamie didn't immediately answer, but his gaze met mine with a sense of understanding. "It's not just you," he said quietly. "I've got that same feeling. But we'll deal with it when we have to."

"Right," I muttered, though I wasn't sure I believed it. I couldn't shake the feeling that the winds of change were already here. And we were about to be caught right in the middle of it.

"It looks like you're settling back into things ok," he said trying to steer the subject to something else. "You going back out on the road again."

I shook my head, being out on the road was hard, I loved the thrill of the arena, but everything outside of that, was a rat race. "I've traveled the country. At least all the parts you can get to by land. I'm not done riding but I may just rodeo closer to home now. Maybe take some more classes on line. Maybe get my veterinary license like Dad wanted."

Jamie raised an eyebrow at that. "Veterinary license, huh? Didn't take you for the settling down type."

I shrugged, unsure of how to explain the pull I felt to be closer to home. "It's not about settling down. It's about doing something that feels... right. You know? I spent so long out there, chasing that next rodeo, that I missed some of the things that matter. And I'm not saying I'm done with riding, not by a long shot. But maybe it's time to focus on something else, something that could help the ranch."

Jamie was quiet for a moment, his fork tapping lightly against his plate. "I get it," he said, his voice soft but with that signature seriousness that always made me listen. "You've always been good with animals. Might be a good fit for you."

I smiled faintly, feeling the weight of the decision settle on my shoulders. "I hope so. We'll see. But I've got a lot of work ahead of me, and it won't be easy."

"Nothing ever is," he replied with a grin. "But you've got this, Alex."

"I know," I looked up at my brother with a smile, "If you can make it through Harvard Law, I'm sure Bozman Veterinary School will be a breeze."

An explosion in the distance reminded me of what was going on outside the walls of our home. I looked at Jamie, his non-response told me that was just part of Dad's plan.

The explosion had been loud, but there was an eerie silence that followed, as though the world outside was holding its breath. Jamie stood up, pushing his chair back with a scrape that echoed in the quiet kitchen. "I'll go check on things outside," he said. "Stay inside for now. Let me handle this."

I nodded, my heart sinking deeper with every step he took toward the door. Things were shifting, and the future felt uncertain. Would any of us make it through this unscathed? Would I find my place in all of this chaos, or was I destined to be swept up in it?

I watched Jamie disappear into the fading light of the day, the faintest hint of worry in his posture. The ranch had always been about strength—about resilience. But tonight, I wasn't so sure we had enough of either left to weather the storm that was coming.

I couldn't sleep that night. Even when I heard the helicopter land outside and my father walk in, I knew it wasn't over, not yet. The cattle had been pushed back over to our pasture from the reservation.

I did all I knew to do by helping Gator in the kitchen make coffee and cut vegetables for the meal ahead. Anything I could do to distract myself from my racing thoughts. The ranch was booming with Livestock Agents and Deputies. Lee was missing.

"Get some air, Miss Alex, I'll take care of this," I nodded and stepped outside on the porch. Everyone was bustling, Jamie was talking on the phone with someone, anyone, everyone who could find our brother.

I stood next to my father feeling helpless but I couldn't show it. Dad carried the burden of his decisions and I couldn't add to that.

"State police are sending a chopper out to look for him," Jamie told us.

My heart clenched at Jamie's words, the weight of them pressing down on me like a lead blanket. "He's out there alone," I muttered, my mind running through all the possible scenarios. "He's not prepared for this. He's never had to deal with something like this."

Dad stood a little taller, his eyes hardening with resolve, but there was a flicker of worry behind his gaze. "Lee can take care of himself, Alex. But that doesn't mean I'm not worried. You don't stop being a father just because they're grown."

I looked at him, knowing he wasn't just talking about Lee. There was so much unsaid between us, so much weight carried in the silence. But now wasn't the time to dive into it. Not when our brother was out there somewhere.

"Do you think he's okay?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dad's jaw tightened, but he didn't look away from the horizon. "He has his ways of handling things. Lee's smart. He'll be alright."

But something in the air felt wrong. I could feel it. There was no certainty in his words, just the steady push of a father trying to believe in his son. Trying to convince himself everything was going to be fine.

I followed my father's gaze, out at the horizon. It was Kayce. There was something off about the way he was riding. Someone was draped over the horse in front of him. Dad rushed out and mounted a horse of his own to meet him.

I squeezed my eyes shut not wanting to know what I clearly knew. It was Lee.

The world seemed to slow around me as I stood frozen, my heart hammering in my chest. I could hear the thundering of hooves, the distant echo of my father calling out to Kayce, but it all felt muffled, like I was underwater.

I wanted to run, to do something, but my legs wouldn't move. The sight of my brother, possibly injured, possibly worse, felt like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

Dad was already at Kayce's side by the time I took a step forward, his hands quickly inspecting Lee's limp form. I could see their faces, twisted in grim determination. Kayce said something, and Dad nodded sharply, looking over his shoulder at the house. It was too much to take in all at once.

When Kayce took Dad's horse and rode to the house alone, I knew. What I'd feared. Lee was gone. I slumped down in the chair broken as Kayce approached. He was all over the place as he explained what happened. The fight, and the shot that took out our brother. And that he was the one who took out the guy who did it.

I took little comfort in that.

The days leading to his funeral were a blur. I slipped on a black suit. Stood outside as the ranch hands gathered to lead Lee to his final resting place.

The weight of the world felt unbearable as we walked. Each step was heavier than the last, and every breath was a struggle. The world had gone still, like time itself was holding its breath in respect for the man we'd lost. Lee had been taken from us in such a violent, brutal way, and yet, here we were—still standing, still fighting—but broken.

The hand on my back was a quiet comfort. I didn't need to look to know it was Jamie. He was always there when things got too heavy, just like Dad, but there was something different in his touch today. The support was more than just family— it was his grief, too, woven into that simple gesture.

I kept my gaze forward, trying to hold it together as we reached the family plot. The place where my ancestors had been buried, the ones whose names and faces I'd heard stories of but never knew. Lee was joining them now, his body at rest, his spirit claimed by the land. I hated it. I hated that we were burying him here, in the dirt, under the same sky that now felt so vast and empty.

The pastor's words were soft, but I couldn't focus on them. I could barely hear him over the storm raging inside me. Lee was gone, and there was nothing that could bring him back. The silence felt suffocating. And yet, the wind carried with it a feeling of finality, a reminder that life would keep moving, no matter how much I wanted to freeze this moment, to make the pain stop.
The finality of it was overwhelming. I'd never get to hear Lee's voice again, never get to argue with him, or laugh at his stupid jokes. And that reality crushed me.

I drew in a breath and walked back to the house with my family. Tates laughter echoing as he ran through the grass ahead of us, reminded me that there was something more, something that had to carry on after this.

A hand slipped in mine, as though he'd been watching me carry the weight of it all alone.

Ryan.

His hand felt warm and steady, grounding me in that moment when everything else felt like it was slipping through my fingers. I didn't look at him, couldn't bring myself to just yet, but I could feel the sincerity in his touch. The same sincerity that had been missing for so long. The same sincerity I had thought I'd never see from him again.

I squeezed his hand lightly, my fingers tightening around his, as if telling myself that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't as alone as I felt.

The silence between us was thick, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was understanding. There were no words needed—just his presence beside me.

Tate's laughter rang through the air again, and I looked over at him. The innocence in his voice, the way he ran without a care in the world, reminded me of the things I had to hold onto. The things that still mattered. Lee was gone, but the family, the land, the ranch—it was still here. And somehow, we had to find a way to move forward.

Ryan's hand tightened in mine as we reached the porch. I finally met his eyes, and I didn't have to say anything. His gaze said it all. It wasn't the same as before. The connection wasn't exactly the same, but it was something. Something we could try to rebuild.

"I'm sorry," Ryan said, his voice quiet but full of regret. "I should've been here sooner. For you."

I nodded, not trusting my voice to respond just yet. But the apology, it felt like a step forward, even if it was just the smallest of steps.

I didn't know what came next. I didn't know how I would make sense of everything that had happened, or how I would ever fill the hole Lee left behind. But for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I had the chance to try. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

I stared out into the field, Kayce sat there, he held more weight than any of us. I started to go to him when Dad stopped me. I nodded. And let my father go to him.

The people left and the ranch felt hollower, empty now.

I stood on the porch with Jamie and Beth as I watched the last of them drive away.

"I'm gonna need you now more than ever," Dad said to Jamie, "and I need you two to stay," he looked at Beth and then me.

Dad's words were heavy, a command, a plea. The weight of everything was suffocating, but we didn't have time to break. Not now. Not with what was coming.

Jamie stepped up beside Dad, his expression unreadable but the tension in his shoulders said it all. Beth, ever the fighter, didn't hesitate. Her words cut through the air, sharp and certain. She wasn't going to back down.

I looked out across the land, the ranch stretching on as far as the eye could see, but it felt small, insignificant now. Lee's absence loomed over it all, but there was still work to be done. The legacy that had been left behind. It wasn't just a piece of land—it was our home. And I'd be damned if we let it fall apart.

I turned to Dad, meeting his gaze. "We'll be here," I said, my voice steady even though everything inside me was still falling apart.

Jamie placed a hand on Dad's shoulder, offering him the silent support that spoke volumes. Beth crossed her arms, determined as always. And me? I just nodded, ready for whatever came next.

But it was Kayce I was worried about. He held the heaviest burden of us all.

I walked back inside, letting the cold air linger behind me, but when I reached the stairs, I paused. Jamie's voice carried, low but firm as he spoke to Dad. I knew that things were about to change, that we were going to fight—together. We had no choice. But how we'd emerge from it all was anyone's guess.

For now, I had to trust that our family could weather this storm.