“I lost five more cows overnight,” he continues.
“Did you even sleep?”
“Can’t afford to,” he mutters.
He takes another sip of his coffee. The silence stretches between us, heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, he sets the mug down and looks at me.
“Where are you staying?”
“A guest house,” I say cautiously.
His brow furrows. “Guest house? The only guest house I know of around here is the Callahan one.”
I hesitate, not wanting to lie, but knowing the truth will only worsen things. “Yeah. That’s the one.”
His eyes narrow, his jaw tightening. “So, you’d rather stay at the Callahan Ranch than with your own family?”
“It’s not like that—” I start, but he cuts me off.
“Nothing’s changed, has it?” he says, his voice low and bitter. “You’d rather save them than us.”
“That’s not fair,” I say, my own temper flaring. “I didn’t know it was on their property when I booked it. I also only came for you and Doc—”
He stands abruptly, the chair scraping against the porch. “Save it,” he says, his voice cold. “I’ve heard enough.”
He storms inside, the screen door slamming shut behind him. I’m left standing there, the weight of his words settling heavily on my shoulders. The sun is higher now, the day fully awake, but all I feel is the chill of the morning air.
Chapter Eight
Wade
The kitchen is already alive with the sounds of breakfast when I step inside, the smell of coffee and bacon hitting me like it always does. Mom is bustling around, her apron tied neatly around her waist, moving between the stove and the counter with the efficiency of someone who’s done this a thousand times. She’s humming under her breath some old country tune that’s been stuck in her head for days.
I’ve been up all night again, doing as much research as I can and watching the cattle through the night. I started doing herd checks throughout the night; every few hours, I’ll walk through the barn and check the quarantined ones. I need to do something, because sleep isn’t going to come to me until I’m able to figure this out.
“Three more dead in the middle of the night,” I say.
Dad is at the head of the table, his usual spot, with a newspaper folded neatly in front of him. He’s not reading it, though—just sipping his coffee and surveying the room like a general overseeing his troops. Caleb and a few of the ranchhands are already seated, plates piled high with eggs, bacon, and biscuits. The clink of forks against plates and the low murmur of conversation fills the air.
“We don’t talk about ranch work until we’ve properly greeted each other,” Mom scolds me. “You weren’t born in a barn, Wade. Show your manners.”
I smile. “Morning,” I say, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and pouring myself some coffee.
“Morning, son,” Dad replies, nodding at me. His voice carries that gravelly tone that makes everything he says sound like it’s carved in stone.
“Morning, Wade,” Mom chimes in, glancing over her shoulder with a smile. “There’s plenty of food. Sit yourself down.”
“I don’t have time to eat, Mama. There’s too much to do. I need to get back out…”
“I said, sit yourself down,” she says as she cocks an eyebrow at me.
I let out a long sigh and nod as she puts a plate of food in front of me. Mama takes a lot of pride in cooking for those that she loves, and unless you’re sick with a stomach virus or something, you don’t skip a meal that she made. One of the rules that’s always been enforced on this ranch is that you will sit down at the table for three meals a day regardless of what’s going on.
I take a seat next to Caleb, who’s already halfway through his second biscuit. He’s got that perpetual grin on his face, the one that makes you wonder if he’s always up to something. It’s taking everything in me not to shovel all this food down as quickly as possible, but I know Mama will get onto me if I do that.
“What’s on the agenda today?” I ask, grabbing a biscuit and slathering it with butter and honey.
“For you, it’s figuring out what’s making the cattle sick. You need to do whatever Doc Lucy tells you to do,” Dad says, setting his coffee down. “The rest of us will go back through our outbreak protocols to see if we missed something.”
