I resisted the urge to text Ryan again when I got back to my room, forcing myself to think better of it. I wasn't going to be that girl—the one who couldn't go a single night without checking in, who hovered over her phone waiting for a response, who needed constant reassurance.

But as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I couldn't help but wonder—what was he doing? And more importantly… was he thinking about me too?

I stared at the ceiling, listening to the quiet creaks of the house settling around me. The bunkhouse was probably still awake, filled with laughter, the occasional bickering, and the sound of cards slapping against the table. Ryan was there—maybe drinking a beer, maybe already stretched out on his bunk.

Was he thinking about me?

I sighed, rolling onto my side. This was ridiculous. I wasn't some lovesick girl pining for a boy. I was a grown woman, a damn good cowboy, and yet here I was, staring at my phone like it might somehow give me the answer.

I wouldn't text him again.

Nope.

Not happening.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to sleep. But as much as I fought it, my thoughts drifted back to him—his easy smile, the way his hands felt on me, the warmth in his eyes when he looked at me like I was something worth holding on to.

Damn it.

I was that girl.

I climbed out of bed, the weight of frustration pressing heavy on my chest. A deep breath didn't shake it. Neither did pacing the room. So, I headed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the restless energy knotting inside me.

As I reached for a towel, my eyes landed on the shirt draped over the top of my hamper—Ryan's shirt, the one I'd slept in the night before. Without thinking, I picked it up, bringing the fabric to my nose. His scent still lingered, a mix of worn leather, faded cologne, and something unmistakably him. It was comforting in a way I hadn't expected, sending a warmth through me that had nothing to do with the night air.

Slowly, I peeled off my pajamas and slipped the shirt over my head. The fabric was soft, well-worn, settling over my skin like a second embrace. It wasn't the same as having him here, but it was close. Close enough.

—-

Kayce kept his word. Before we moved the cattle up the canyon, he pulled me aside. We sat atop our horses, watching the ranch come alive with the morning sun, the cowboys already moving with purpose, the sound of hooves and low murmurs filling the air.

"You alright?" I asked, glancing over at him. His face was twisted up in the way it always got when he was pushing something down, locking it away where no one could get to it.

"Yeah," he muttered, but the look in his eyes told a different story. I knew better than to press him now. There were things that needed saying, but timing was everything.

Instead, he shifted gears, turning to Dad. "What do you think about pasture twelve?"

Dad rubbed his chin, considering it. "Well, that's what I was thinking."

"There's no hot wire around that river," Kayce pointed out, then looked at me, giving me the space to weigh in. "If they cross it, God only knows where they'll end up."

I nodded, already running through alternatives. "There's a creek in pasture nine," I offered. "And a fence around it. They can stay there until Thanksgiving."

Dad looked between us, shaking his head with a small, knowing smirk. "Well, I guess nine it is."

Kayce narrowed his eyes at him. "You never wanted 'em in twelve, did you?"

Dad shrugged. "Life's always a test." Then his expression turned more serious as he turned back to Kayce. "Need you at the livestock association office today."

Kayce frowned. "I was gonna help them push 'em out."

"I'm sure whatever plot you two have cooked up," Dad's gaze flicked between us, "your sister can handle on her own. You're about to learn how little cowboying ranchers actually do."

Kayce sighed but didn't argue. I smirked, shaking my head. "Guess that means I get to do all the real work."

Kayce just huffed, nudging his horse forward. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Only a little," I followed behind him.

I sat beside him on my horse as we explained the job for the day.

"We're moving the herd to pasture nine," Kayce began.

"We'll take them through the east canyon and up the fire road," I added.

Kayce scanned the group. "Any questions?"

The wranglers' eyes seemed to bounce from Kayce to me and back as we spoke. I suppose if you'd never seen us together like that, you wouldn't understand. When Kayce and I were younger, we used to always finish each other's sentences. We'd hold conversations with other people speaking with almost one mind. We had our own thoughts of course but when it came to things like this—things we'd done together our whole lives—our minds just worked in sync. It wasn't something we tried to do. It just happened.

The wranglers didn't question it, though some of them still looked like they weren't sure which one of us to take orders from. I saw Ryan smirk slightly, like he was used to it by now.

"There's no gate along Fire Road. We'd have to cut the fence," Ryan pointed out.

"Exactly," Kayce said. "We'll cut it, move the herd through, and patch it up after."

Ryan didn't look thrilled, but he didn't argue.

"We could push them across the river and follow the creek," Colby suggested.

"Then we'd have to swim a hundred head of cattle across," Ryan countered.

I sighed. Being in charge was proving more difficult than I expected.

"Cows can swim," Colby muttered.

"I can't swim," Jimmy added, earning a sharp look from Rip.

Rip snorted. "Do you know how to shut the fuck up? They didn't ask for your damn opinion—just if you had questions. And you don't."

Silence fell over the group. No one else dared to speak.

"Alright," I said, settling into my saddle. "Let's head out."

The men rode out into the field, and I cast Kayce a knowing look before nudging my horse forward, leaving him to his new responsibilities at the livestock office.

As we moved toward the pasture, Rip pulled up alongside me. "Don't let them walk all over you like you're their best goddamn friend," he warned.

"I'm not trying to," I admitted, keeping my eyes on the riders ahead. "I just want them to respect me."

"They will," he said without hesitation. Then, after a beat, he glanced at me and added, "They do. Probably more than him."

He cocked his head in the direction Kayce had ridden off, his meaning clear.

"You could've taken him any day of the week," I told him, my voice steady.

Rip smirked, but there was no real amusement in it. "Yeah, well, I do what I gotta for the ranch," he reminded me.

I wanted to tell him that even if my father, my brothers—hell, even Beth—didn't see him for who he really was, I did. He wasn't just muscle. He was an enforcer, a protector. The backbone of this place.

He always had been.

—

"Nice shirt," I teased, watching Ryan button it up. "Wish you were wearing it for me—and I was the one taking it off."

With Dad at the Livestock office, I'd taken my chance to slip into the bunkhouse unnoticed. Technically, I wasn't disobeying him. I hadn't planned on staying the night—just stealing a few moments. But I hadn't accounted for Ryan needing to be at the office too.

"I know, baby," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head. "But it's my job."

I couldn't argue with that. If anything, I was glad Dad trusted Ryan enough to send him. He did the work to keep the ranch running clean—or at least, clean enough for anyone not looking too closely.

Still, I pouted, trailing my gaze over him. "Guess I'll just have to pack this image away… when I use the dick in my nightstand later."

Ryan stilled for half a second before a slow smirk spread across his lips. "Well… that's an interesting thing I didn't know about you."

I arched a brow. "What's so surprising? I've got needs."

Ryan chuckled, buttoning the last of his shirt as he stepped closer. "Oh, I'm not surprised, sweetheart. Just wondering why you'd ever need it when you've got me."

I leaned back against the bunkhouse door, arms crossed. "Because sometimes, you're busy being all responsible and shit," I teased.

He hummed, tilting his head. "Well, that don't seem fair. I'm out here workin' my ass off, and you're in bed thinking about me?"

I smirked. "Who said I was thinking about you?"

His hands landed on my hips, pulling me just a little closer. "You just did." His breath was warm against my skin, his lips brushing my temple before he took a step back. "But I gotta go before your daddy starts wonderin' where I am."

I sighed dramatically. "Fine. Go be a good cowboy."

He tipped his hat at me with a grin. "Don't wear yourself out too much, sweetheart. I'll see you tonight." Then he was gone, leaving me alone in the bunkhouse with nothing but the thought of him—and the promise of later.

—

"Gator, what the fuck is that?" Dad gruffed, looking at the platter of grilled octopus that was presented to us to eat. I shared my Dad's sentiments as I looked at the charred creature on the plate.

"Mediterranean diet, Daddy," Beth answered, "If I have to eat another steak, I will have to have a colonic with a firehose. It's good," she looked at me, then to our father, "Try it."

I wrinkled my nose as I forked a tentacle onto my plate. "If you say so."

"How was your day?" Beth asked.

Dad grunted, still eyeing the octopus like it had personally offended him. "Be better if I didn't have to eat this shit."

Beth rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You'd eat a damn boot if Gator grilled it."

I stifled a laugh as I reluctantly cut into the tentacle on my plate. "How was your day?" I asked, mostly to change the subject.

Dad stabbed at his food—thankfully, not the octopus. "Busy."

Beth scoffed, sipping her wine. "Wow. Riveting conversation. Truly."

I smirked, shaking my head as I took a hesitant bite. Surprisingly, it wasn't terrible. "Could use some steak on the side," I muttered.

Dad pointed his fork at me approvingly. "See? She's got sense."

Beth just sighed. "You two are impossible."

"What about you, Kayce?" I asked. "How was your day?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," he grumbled, sounding more and more like our father.

"You always say that," Dad muttered.

Kayce jabbed his fork into his octopus. "When I have a day worth talking about, I'll shout it from the damn rooftop."

Dad smirked. "That any good?"

Kayce shrugged. "I don't care what I eat."

I stifled a laugh, but any humor in the moment vanished when we heard footsteps approaching. We all looked up as Jamie walked in.

"I dropped out of the race," he announced.

Dad didn't miss a beat. "You hungry?"

Jamie nodded and pulled out a chair.

"Where the hell you been?" Kayce asked, still clueless about the mess that had unfolded while he was off brooding.

"I'm gonna go for a ride," I said, pushing back from the table, eager to escape the awkward tension lingering in the air.

Dad sighed. "It's getting late, honey."

"Don't worry about me, Dad." I leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before heading for the door.

The evening air was crisp as I stepped onto the porch, pulling out my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before I typed:

Hey, cowboy, you wanna saddle us up a couple of horses and join me for a ride?

I chewed my lip, staring at the screen, waiting.

A moment later, my phone buzzed.

Can't think of anything else I'd rather do. See you in the barn in ten minutes?

I smiled, slipping my phone back into my pocket as I made my way toward the barn.

Ryan already had his horse saddled and was tightening the cinch on mine when I stepped into the barn. I lingered by the door, leaning against the wall, watching him. The way his muscles flexed with each movement, the quiet confidence in his hands as he worked. He was always gentle with the horses—even when no one was watching.

Sensing my gaze, he glanced over, flashing one of those easy, devastating smiles. "Figured you'd be too worn out from that dick in your nightstand to come see me."

I smirked, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. "It does the job in a pinch," I teased. "But it doesn't hold a candle to the real thing."

"You ready?" he asked, that smirk still tugging at the corners of his lips.

I nodded, letting him help me into the saddle. We both knew I didn't need it, but I still savored the way his hands lingered on my hips as I swung my leg over.

"Always," I murmured, looking down at him as he paused for just a second before mounting his own horse.

We rode in comfortable silence, the rhythmic beat of hooves against the earth filling the quiet between us. Just far enough from the house that no one would notice, I pulled my horse to a stop. My gaze drifted to the horizon, where the sun dipped behind the mountains, casting golden light over the land.

It may as well have been the edge of the world. But it was beautiful.

And it was mine.

"You've got that look, Alex," Ryan said, his voice low and knowing.

"What look?" I quirked a brow, feigning innocence.

"The one that says you want to say something but won't." His gaze held mine, waiting.

I slid down from my saddle, the cool night air doing nothing to temper the heat burning in my chest. Looking up at him, my eyes dark and wanting, I finally admitted, "I don't want to talk, Ryan."

"That so?" His lips curved, but there was something deeper in his expression—understanding, anticipation. He swung down from his horse, tying off both reins before turning to me.

His hands found my waist, rough palms warm against me as he pulled me in, closing the space between us. With a teasing tilt of his fingers, he tipped my hat back, his lips capturing mine in a slow, searing kiss. A kiss that stole the breath from my lungs and set my skin ablaze.

I slid my arms around his neck, pressing against him, feeling the solid strength beneath his shirt. The familiar heat of him, the way his body fit against mine—it had been too long. Too many stolen moments, too many nights spent aching for this.

My fingers worked their way down his shirt, impatience getting the better of me as I popped the buttons, sending them scattering into the grass.

Ryan chuckled against my lips. "Damn, sweetheart, you could've just asked."

"I'll buy you a new one," I murmured, already tugging at his belt, desperate to feel him—just him—against me.

His hands worked my jeans down over my hips, slow and deliberate, the rough drag of denim against my skin sending a shiver up my spine. I kicked off my boots, stepping free of the tangled fabric, my breath hitching as his palms smoothed over my bare thighs.

A low moan escaped me as he gripped my hips, his touch firm but reverent, like he was savoring every inch of me. His fingers traced the curve of my waist before sliding lower, setting fire to every nerve in their path.

"Missed this," he murmured, his voice husky against my ear. "Missed you."

I tilted my head back, letting him claim my skin with his lips, my hands tangling in his hair as I pressed closer. "Then don't make me wait any longer."

He lifted me effortlessly, guiding me down onto him as he lowered himself to the soft earth. A shuddering gasp escaped my lips as he filled me, stretching me in a way that was all too familiar and yet never enough. My fingers dug into his shoulders, clinging to him as heat pulsed through my veins.

Ryan groaned, his grip tightening on my hips, holding me flush against him as he let me adjust. "Damn, Alex…" he breathed, voice rough with restraint.

I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my lips finding the salt of his skin. I licked, tasted him, before sinking my teeth in just enough to make him hiss. His hands flexed on me in response, and I felt the way it ignited something primal in him.

"Impatient, aren't you?" he teased, his voice dark with want.

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze, my breath hot against his lips. "You gonna do something about it?"

Ryan let out a low growl, his grip tightening as he thrust up into me, deeper, harder—giving me exactly what I craved. My body arched against his, every nerve igniting at the way he filled me, stretched me, claimed me.

His breath was hot against my throat, his lips dragging along my skin as his fingers dug into my hips, holding me right where he wanted me. "That's right," he rasped, voice thick with need.

I let my tongue glide up the column of his neck, teasing, tasting, savoring the salt of his skin before I whispered into his ear, "I've been thinking about having you inside me all day."

Ryan groaned, his pace faltering for half a second before he regained control, rolling his hips up into mine with a punishing rhythm. "You say shit like that, baby," he murmured, voice wrecked, "and I won't last."

"Then don't," I challenged, tightening my grip in his hair as I rocked against him, matching his intensity. "I want to feel it."

His hand slid between us, his thumb finding my clit, rubbing it in sync with the thrusts of his hips. It was almost too much. The pressure in the pit of my stomach started to build, and it was on the verge of snapping. I could feel him twitching inside me.

"Cum for me, baby," he groaned. As if I were waiting for his words, my walls pulsed around him, as I let go of all I was hanging onto.

My whole body trembled as the sensations tore through me, white-hot and all-consuming. My fingers dug into his shoulders, clinging to him as pleasure crashed over me in relentless waves. My walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper, drawing a guttural groan from his lips.

"Good girl," he rasped, his voice thick with pleasure, his grip on my hips tightening as he thrust into me one last time, hard and deep. A shudder ran through his body as he let go, filling me with his release.

I slumped against him, breathless, my forehead resting against his. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close, grounding me as our heartbeats slowly returned to normal.

Ryan brushed a kiss against my temple, his voice low and rough. "You really do know how to make a man lose his mind, Alex."

I let out a breathy laugh, still catching my breath. "Good."

He lay back on the grass pulling me into his arms. I rested my head on his chest as we lay under the night sky. I let my eyes roam his body, "I ever tell you how hot you are?"

"Don't think you've mentioned it, baby," he smirked. "But I'm glad you like what you see."

I trailed my fingers over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath my palm. "Like is an understatement," I murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to his skin. "I could look at you all day."

Ryan chuckled, his fingers tracing slow circles on my back. "That so?"

"Mhm." I lifted my head, my eyes roaming over him appreciatively. The moonlight cast soft shadows over his features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the strong lines of his body. "You're all cowboy—rough hands, strong arms, that cocky smirk…" I smirked back. "You know exactly what you do to me."

His chest rumbled with laughter as he tightened his arms around me. "Damn right I do." He tilted my chin up, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my lips. "And just so we're clear, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Alex."

Warmth spread through me at his words, a feeling deeper than lust settling in my chest. I nestled closer, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as we lay beneath the endless Montana sky.

—-

I was still in a blissful post-Ryan state when I woke up. It was like that every time. I couldn't stop smiling as I poured myself a cup of coffee.

Jamie, Beth, and Dad were in Helena. Jamie was officially stepping down. Kayce, Rip, and Jimmy were out mending fences. My plan was to find another corner of the ranch to take advantage of my responsibility-free morning.

I sipped my coffee, savoring the quiet. Mornings like this were rare—no immediate fires to put out, no one breathing down my neck, just the wide-open ranch and endless possibilities.

Leaning against the counter, I pulled out my phone and considered texting Ryan. Maybe I'd tempt him into sneaking off with me again, but I knew better. He had work to do, and so did I—eventually.

Still, the thought of wasting a perfectly good morning doing nothing didn't sit right with me. I set my mug down, grabbed my hat, and headed for the door. If I was lucky, I'd find a secluded spot where no one would come looking for me.

Good mornings never last. The sharp ring of my phone shattered the peace, and when I glanced at the screen, Kayce's name stared back at me.

I sighed, bringing it to my ear. "Couldn't figure out the fence post without me?" I teased, expecting some minor inconvenience.

But his voice was different—serious, edged with something heavy. "I need you to gather the boys up."

I straightened. "How bad?"

"I counted at least fifty, but I ain't done," he admitted. "It's bad."

Fifty. Dead cows. And he wasn't done counting. My stomach dropped.

"I'm on my way," I said, already moving, tucking my phone into my back pocket and strode toward the barn. Whatever happened out there wasn't just bad—it was a disaster.

I hadn't prepared myself for what I was about to see.

The field was littered with bodies—cows stretched out, bloated and still. The stench of death clung to the air, thick and suffocating.

"What happened to them?" My voice came out steadier than I felt.

"Bloat," Kayce said grimly.

I swallowed hard. I knew what cattle were raised for; they fed us. But this? This was cruel. A slow, painful death, their stomachs swollen until they collapsed under their own weight.

Dad and Jamie arrived soon after, their faces grim as they took in the scene of the massacre.

Lloyd stepped forward, holding up a handful of green. "Mr. Dutton, this is the culprit."

Clover.

"This is a crime scene, Dad," I said, my gut telling me this wasn't some careless mistake. This was deliberate.

Dad's jaw tightened. "Jamie, get livestock agents out here." His gaze shifted to Ryan. "Ryan, you're not a reserve agent anymore. You're on regular duty. Find a way to cover this area. I don't want a bird landing in it."

Ryan gave a sharp nod, already falling into the role.

I met his eyes. Any other day, I'd be proud—hell, excited—that my father trusted him enough to offer him a promotion. But today… today wasn't the day for that.

Our family's enemies had stacked up over the years, but I couldn't picture one who would be capable of something this cruel. Then again, I didn't always see the evil people kept hidden just beneath the surface.

Beth would call that willful ignorance.

She might be right about that.

"Who could do this, Dad?" I murmured, my eyes scanning the field of lifeless cattle.

My father didn't hesitate. His jaw was set, his eyes dark with certainty.

"I know exactly who did this," he said. "I just gotta find a way to prove it."

—-

I scoffed as my father's old friend—his former friend—Sheriff Donnie Haskell, stepped into the field. He knelt down, picking up a handful of clover, and held it up to my father.

"You think this was intentional?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism. "I don't see tire tracks, John, and the fence is way over there, so no one threw it over. It didn't fall outta the fucking sky."

His words hit me like a hammer.

The plane.

When I was riding back from my… excursion with Ryan, I'd heard an engine overhead. I hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but now?

"That's exactly what they did," I said, my voice firm. "I heard it last night when I was out… riding."

Haskell let out a sharp exhale, eyeing me like I was some naive little girl spinning a fairy tale. "So you think someone flew a plane overhead and dropped clover on your cattle?" His gaze settled on me, and then he smirked. "I think you might be hearing things, sweetheart."

The way he said it made my skin crawl.

Jamie, who'd been quiet until now, finally spoke. "A King Air was designed for skydiving. Its side door is large enough to dump a payload mid-flight."

Haskell looked at him, then back at my father. "Why the hell would anyone do that?" His voice was still doubtful, but there was a sliver of unease in his expression. "Who would do that?"

"You know exactly who," Dad stated, his voice like gravel. "Your golfing buddy, Dan Jenkins."

"The Paradise Valley guy?" I quirked a brow. "The one who just signed that deal with… what's his name? The chief over at the Reservation?"

Jamie nodded. "Thomas Rainwater."

Haskell let out a sharp breath, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, John. If that's what you think, then why the fuck am I here? I've got no jurisdiction, and cattle is your department."

Dad took a step closer, locking eyes with him. "Because I need your deputies. And I need you to deputize some of my men." His voice left no room for argument.

Haskell scoffed, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ."

"Starting with him." Dad motioned to Kayce.

Kayce, who'd been standing off to the side, shifted his weight but said nothing. His face was unreadable, but I knew my brother. He'd been trying to stay out of this kind of thing, trying to build something different for his family. And yet, here he was—dragged right back in.

Sheriff Haskell studied my father for a long moment, then exhaled through his nose, nodding. "Alright. But if this shit blows up, it's on you."

Dad didn't even flinch. "It always is. And if he calls dispatch for support, I expect you to give it to him." His voice cut through the air like a whip. "Do you hear me, Donnie?"

"I heard you, John," the sheriff shot back, throwing his hands up as he turned on his heel. "Hell, the whole goddamn valley heard you!"

I crossed my arms, watching as he stomped off. This wasn't the first time Dad had forced his hand, and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

Dad turned back to us, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "We know who did this." His attention shifted to Jamie. "You find the evidence." Then to Kayce. "And when he does, you drag that son of a bitch back to me—by the hair if you have to."

Kayce nodded once, jaw tight, but said nothing.

Jamie adjusted his tie, exhaling like he already regretted being involved.

Me? I just watched them both, knowing damn well that once this started, there was no stopping it.

"You have any idea what kind of plane it was, Alex?" Jamie asked as we walked away from the carnage in the field.

"I didn't exactly see it," I admitted, frustration tightening in my chest. A knot formed in my stomach, heavy with the weight of what I might've missed. If I had been paying attention, maybe I would've noticed more. Maybe I could have stopped it. "I'm sorry… I was just—"

"Hey," Kayce cut me off, his tone firm but understanding. "It ain't your fault."

I met his gaze, searching for any hint of blame, but there was none. Just my brother, steady as ever, reminding me that this—this fight, this war—was bigger than any one of us.

Ryan was waiting by the truck when we made it back to the house. I wanted nothing more than to sink into his arms, to let him hold me and take some of this weight off my shoulders. But now wasn't the time. Still, he sensed it—the stress, the worry pressing down on me.

"You alright?" he asked softly.

I nodded, though we both knew it wasn't entirely true. "Going with Kayce to handle this situation?" I kept my tone casual, careful. I couldn't afford to let anything slip, not with my father just steps away. He had enough to deal with without adding me and Ryan to the list.

"I am," Ryan confirmed.

"Chicken," I teased, forcing a small smile.

"What?" His lips curved in amusement.

"For lunch," I clarified, eyes a little brighter as I looked at him. "I bet you're getting the chicken."

He chuckled, shaking his head. I stepped closer, my hand resting lightly on his arm, just for a second. "Be careful, okay?"

"I always am," he assured me.

"You ready to go?" Kayce's voice cut in from behind me. I turned to see him watching us with a knowing smirk.

"Don't worry, Alex, I'll try to bring him back in one piece for you."

"I'd appreciate that," I replied smoothly. "I like all his pieces."

"I'm sure you do," Kayce shot back, his grin widening.

I rolled my eyes before shifting my attention to my brother. "You be careful too," I warned, my teasing edge giving way to something more serious. "And don't do anything stupid."

Kayce scoffed. "When have I ever done anything stupid?"

I arched a brow. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

Ryan chuckled under his breath, and Kayce shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he climbed into the truck.

I watched them drive off, my stomach twisting. I hated this part—waiting, wondering if they'd come back the same way they left. If they'd come back at all.

I walked into the house, restless energy buzzing beneath my skin. I needed something—anything—to do that could help. I wasn't a fighter like Kayce, charging headfirst into danger. And I wasn't a brilliant legal mind like Jamie, who could dismantle someone with a single document. But there had to be something I could contribute.

"Jamie?" I called out, my voice carrying through the quiet halls.

"Back here," his voice echoed from Dad's office.

I followed the sound, finding him hunched over his laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration. Papers were spread across the desk, a legal pad filled with notes beside him.

"Can I help with anything?" I asked, stepping inside.

He barely looked up as he motioned toward the laptop. "Look up small airports near here. Anyplace that could accommodate a King Air."

I settled in beside him, fingers flying over the keyboard as I pulled up maps and flight records. "There's a skydiving place in Three Forks," I said, clicking through the listings. "Few of us went there for Senior Day back in high school. They used a King Air for jumps."

Jamie's eyes flicked to me, his interest piqued. "That could be something. Pull up any recent flight records."

I nodded, already typing. Maybe I wasn't Kayce, and maybe I wasn't Jamie, but I sure as hell wasn't useless either.

I noticed the papers on the desk, ranch paperwork, Jamie wasn't just in Dad's office to help with the cattle situation, he was looking to see what changes had been done in his absence. What Dad had Beth do.

"Did you know about the trust?" he asked me.

"Dad didn't say anything to me about it," I told him, Dad didn't get me involved with that side of things. "Why does it matter? If that's what Dad wants…"

Jamie let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back in the chair. "Of course, he didn't tell you. Why would he? You're the only one he still treats like a kid."

I frowned, crossing my arms. "That's not fair, Jamie."

"Isn't it?" He gestured to the papers in front of him. "Dad had Beth put the ranch in a trust. Do you even know what that means?"

I hesitated. I had a general idea, but legal jargon wasn't exactly my expertise. "It means he's making sure the ranch stays in the family," I said, though my voice lacked confidence.

Jamie scoffed. "No, Alex. It means he's making sure Beth controls everything when he's gone. You and I? We get nothing. We're just along for the ride."

I swallowed hard, glancing at the papers again. "Why would he do that?"

Jamie's lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes dark with something that almost looked like resentment. "Because he trusts her. And he doesn't trust me." His gaze flickered to me. "Or maybe he thinks you don't want this place enough."

I felt the knot tighten in my stomach even more. I loved this ranch, but I'd never fought for it the way Beth had. The way Jamie had. Maybe that's why Dad never told me about the trust—because he didn't think it would matter to me.

"Why does it matter, Jamie?" I asked, though my voice was quieter now. "If that's what Dad wants…"

Jamie let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "Because, Alex, when the time comes… what Dad wants might not be what's best for us."

I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all. Kayce's signature was scribbled at the bottom of the page. Tate was the beneficiary of the trust. Beth was in control.

"Fuck…what the fuck, Beth?" Jamie groaned.

"What are these?" I asked, looking at Warranty Deeds that were spread across the desk.

"That is how she is going to fuck us," Jamie stated.

"What's got you so jumpy?" Beth cocked her brow from the office doorway. "What's got you so nervous?"

"You scared the fucking shit out of me, for starters," he said. "And this," he held up the trust document, "why a trust?"

Beth strolled into the room, completely unfazed by Jamie's anger. She plucked the papers from his hand, glancing at them like they were nothing more than an afterthought.

"Because, little brother," she said coolly, "if this ranch stays in Dad's name, it's vulnerable. People could tear it apart the second he's gone. A trust locks it down." She set the papers back on the desk and fixed Jamie with a glare. "And before you start crying about it, yeah, Dad asked me to do it. Because he trusts me to protect it."

Jamie scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "And of course, that trust just so happens to put you in control of everything."

Beth smirked, tilting her head. "Damn right it does."

I looked between them, my stomach churning. "But why isn't Kayce listed? Or me?" I gestured to the papers. "Why put all of this on you?"

Beth's expression softened—for a split second. "Because Kayce doesn't want this place. He never has. And you?" Her eyes met mine, searching. "Dad didn't think you'd want to be involved in this fight."

I swallowed hard. "That's not fair."

Beth shrugged. "Maybe not. But it's the way it is." She turned her gaze back to Jamie. "And I don't need you trying to undo it, Jamie. You so much as think about screwing with this, and I'll make sure you regret it."

Jamie clenched his jaw. "You already screwed me, Beth. What's one more time?"

Beth just smiled. "Oh, baby brother. You have no idea. You don't have a role here anymore, Jamie."

"Oh, you want to know what my role is?" Jamie smirked, "I think you put it all in a trust so you can do this," he held up the Warranty Deeds.

"The ranch is an investor, yes," she responded cooly.

I tried to make sense of it, of everything, but it wasn't connecting.

"How big an investor?" Jamie spat, "I manage the finances, I need to know how big?!"

"Five million," she said it in a way that it could have been five dollars for as little as it seemed to matter, "I know, Jamie. You're worried about the risk."

"Five million is a big risk," I responded.

"Sit down, Alex, let the grown-ups talk," she snorted, "Two things: one, the risk is mitigated," she glared at Jamie, "and two: If you have the balls you would have done this years ago and Dad wouldn't be chasing his fucking tail every fall."

"That's more than half the ranch's cash," Jamie shouted. "What do you think we're gonna do if cattle prices drop in November? How much do you think this ranch makes in a year? After all the costs, it hasn't turned a profit in six years. Maybe you don't understand what losing a few hundred cattle means, but that's half a million dollars rotting in the field. You screwed us. I want it out, and I want it out today."

"It doesn't work like that, Jamie," Beth shot back. She didn't grasp the real risk. It wasn't just money—it was our livelihood—the livelihood of everyone who worked on this ranch.

"You make it work!" Jamie barked.

Beth smirked, giving him a once-over. "I see what you're doing. You think you'll get him to trust you by not trusting me? I wish you and your tiny balls the best of luck." She pushed past me and stormed off.

I steadied myself before turning back to Jamie. "Are we really in that much trouble?"

"Yeah," he muttered, sinking back into Dad's office chair. "We are."

"I've saved most of my rodeo winnings," I offered, lowering myself into a chair.

Jamie scoffed. "I don't think a couple thousand dollars in your savings account is gonna get us out of this fucking mess, Alex."

I glared at him. "I've won almost every competition since I was eighteen. National titles. Plus, I have endorsement deals with Wrangler and Durango. It's not just a couple thousand dollars, Jamie."

His expression shifted. "How much are we talking?"

"Fifty million," I said.

Jamie's head snapped up so fast I thought he might give himself whiplash. "Fifty million?" he repeated, staring at me like I'd just sprouted a second head.

I nodded. "Give or take."

He blinked, then let out a disbelieving laugh. "You've been sitting on fifty million dollars, and you never thought to mention it?"

I crossed my arms. "I didn't think I needed to. This ranch has always been Dad's to run, and I never wanted him thinking I was making money just to bail him out. He's stubborn as hell, and you know he wouldn't take a dime from me unless it was life or death."

Jamie ran a hand down his face, clearly trying to process this new information. "Well, we're about a step away from life or death, Alex."

I leaned forward. "Then tell me the truth—if things don't turn around, how much longer do we have?"

He hesitated for a moment before sighing heavily. "A year. Maybe less, if cattle prices tank and we don't recover from this loss." He gestured toward the trust papers. "Beth thinks she's saving the ranch, but she's gambling with money we can't afford to lose."

I chewed on my lip, thinking. "I don't want to step on Dad's toes, and I sure as hell don't want to go toe-to-toe with Beth, but if I can help…"

Jamie's gaze sharpened. "You'd be willing to put some of that money into the ranch?"

I shrugged. "It's our home, Jamie. It's our legacy. I don't want to watch it crumble because of bad business decisions and old grudges."

Jamie exhaled slowly. "Beth's not going to like this."

I smirked. "Beth doesn't like anything I do. What else is new?"

Jamie let out another small laugh, but the worry never left his eyes. "Alright. Let's figure out how we use this without setting off a war."

I stood up, determination settling in my gut. "Then we better start now. Because I'm not letting this ranch fall apart."