“There’re always choices.”
“Yeah? Like what? Sell the land our parents died trying to keep? We all know that wreck was more than a drunk driver who crossed the yellow line. Let the bank take everything theyworked for?” I shake my head. “Not happening. Not while I’m still breathing.”
The silence stretches between us, filled only by the sound of hammers on fence posts and the distant lowing of cattle. Carson knows I’m right, even if he doesn’t like it. We’ve had this conversation before, in different variations, but it always comes back to the same thing: we do what we have to do to survive.
“Tell me about tonight,” he says finally.
I outline the plan, keeping my voice low and my eyes on the horizon. The shipment will be traveling light, just a single truck with unbranded cattle, which makes them easier to steal. We’ll intercept it at the old bridge where the county road crosses Miller’s Creek. It’s isolated, far from any houses or main roads. Perfect for our purposes.
“We’ll need masks,” I continue. “And Carson? No names. Even if something goes wrong, even if we get separated, no names.”
He nods grimly. “Understood.”
“Devlin’s handling the disposal of the truck and trailer. We take the cattle and put them in our trailer. By morning, we’re just two cowboys who spent the night checking cattle.”
The plan is solid, as solid as these things ever are. But there’s always that element of unpredictability, that moment when everything can go sideways. I’ve learned to live with that fear, to push it down and focus on what needs to be done.
“What about weapons?” Carson asks.
“Just sidearms. This isn’t supposed to be violent. We want them scared, not dead.” I pause, meeting his eyes. “But if things go bad…”
“I know.”
Of course he knows. We’ve been down this road before, more times than I care to count. Sometimes I wonder whatour parents would think if they could see us now. Would they understand? Would they hate what we’ve become?
I shake off those thoughts. No point in dwelling on ghosts and regrets. The dead don’t have to worry about keeping the lights on or putting food on the table. The living do.
“We meet at the old barn at eleven,” I tell him. “That gives us time to get in position without rushing.”
Carson nods, then glances back at the other workers. “Should we head back? They’ll start wondering if we disappear for too long.”
“Yeah.” I gather my reins, preparing to rejoin the group. “Carson?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember what I said about Aubree. She can’t know about this. About any of it. That’s important to me and Truett.”
His expression darkens. “You really think she’d turn us in?”
“I think she’s got a conscience. And sometimes that’s more dangerous than any enemy.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “She cares about right and wrong in a way we can’t afford to anymore.”
“She cares about us too.”
“I know. That’s what makes it complicated.”
We ride back to rejoin the work crew, falling into the familiar rhythm of ranch life. But underneath the normalcy, I can feel the tension coiling in my chest. Tonight will either solve our problems for the next few months or create new ones we can’t imagine.
As the afternoon wears on, I find myself thinking about Aubree more than I should. The way she looked when I had her pressed up against the wall. The way her honey-blonde hair caught the light when she turned her head. The way her lips curved when she smiled.
She’s dangerous to our operation, but she’s also the reason I keep doing this. Her, and Truett, and the legacy our parents left behind. Everything I do, every risk I take—it’s all for family.
Even if they never know the full price I’m willing to pay.
The sun starts its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and red. In a few hours, Carson, Devlin, and I will be riding out into the darkness, putting everything on the line once again. But right now, in this moment, we’re just cowboys fixing a fence on a dusty ranch.
Sometimes, the lie is easier to live with than the truth.
FIVE
