My mind is already running through it. Terrain. Water sources. If they broke as a group or scattered. Whether someone drove them or just let them bolt.
"Alright," I say, decisive. "We saddle up. Grab a couple guys from my place who can ride and track. No point throwing bodies at it if they don't know what they're doing."
Chace nods. "I can get Caleb and Mark."
"Do it," I say. "Tell them to bring ropes, extra tack, and water. We're not chasing shadows."
I cut toward the barn, pace quickening. "I'll call Addie. She's got good eyes and she knows the land."
Chace glances at me. "You think she's up for that?"
I don't slow. "She'll want to be."
I pull my phone from my pocket as I go, already dialing. The barn doors loom ahead, red paint dulled and flaking, hinges creaking as I shove one open.
"Addie," I say the second the line connects. "We've got cattle out."
I listen, jaw tight.
"East pasture. Fence was cut. We're missing at least a dozen."
A pause. Then: "Yeah. I know."
I duck into the tack room, muscle memory taking over. Saddle off the rack. Cinch checked. Bridle in hand. My horse lifts its head from the stall, ears flicking forward like it senses the shift.
I continue. "No telling how far they've gone. I need you geared and ready in twenty."
Another pause.
"Good," I say. "Bring extra water and whatever you think you'll need. This could take a couple days."
I hang up and slide the phone back into my pocket, already moving. The barn fills with sound as I work—leather creaking, metal clinking, hooves shifting impatiently in stalls.
This isn't an accident.
That thought settles cold and certain in my gut.
A clean cut. No break. No storm damage. Someone took the time to do it right.
The question is who.
Cole's land runs along that fence line.
The thought hits immediately, sharp and unwelcome. The Peterson place he just bought sits right there. And thetiming—right after he made his "neighborly offer" to buy us out in town.
Too convenient.
I push the thought aside. No proof. Could've been anyone—kids, drifters, someone cutting through and not giving a damn about fixing what they broke.
But Cole's face flashes in my mind. That satisfied smile when he walked away from Hazel. Like he'd already won something.
The timing feels wrong.
Everything about this feels wrong.
Mae appears on the porch, hand shading her eyes against the strange light. "Eli?"
"Fence got cut," I call back, not slowing my pace. "We're going after them."
