I smirk. "You want a trophy, old man, I'll get you a participation ribbon."
“Sure thing.” Jenny laughs nervously and disappears fast. Smart girl.
"Are you back for good or passing through?" Mom asks gently.
"Just a short break in the season. I'll be on the road again soon." I don't say more. Don't admit the ache that shoots from collarbone to rib every time I breathe wrong. I'll never tell them about the pills. About waking up in a strange room with nothing but guilt and bruises.
Dad leans back. "The ranch could use more boots and less excuses."
"Oscar," Mom cuts in. "Let's not make the Timberlineour battlefield."
Dad grunts.
She turns to me, serious in a way that makes my stomach clench. "It's a good thing you're here now. We've had an issue come up that I didn't want to discuss over the phone."
I arch a brow. "Only one? Must be a good week."
Mom doesn't smile at my sarcasm which tells me this is serious. I can usually charm her into laughing with me. "The Forest Service sent us a letter. They've designated our land as part of a new High Fire Hazard Zone. We've been ordered to remove all cattle and fencing within ninety days."
I freeze as my head wraps around all that this would mean for the ranch. "That's not just fencing," I say slowly. "That's water lines. Grazing rotation. It's half the ranch's operational system."
"We filed an appeal," Mom continues, her tone edgy, "and already had a reply. Which is very fast for a government agency."
Dad's jaw works like he's chewing gravel. "Dismissed. Post-haste compliance expected."
I lean back, trying to keep the fury off my face. I don't want to care about this crap but somehow, I do. And that makes me just as angry as some pencil pusher telling us what to do with our land. "Why don't we just donate to whatever group dreamed this up? Buy them off?"
"Because we can’t find them. Whoever started it is sneaky. I hired a consultant," Mom says. "She'll be arriving soon to help us strategize."
My stomach churns. Hollaway's have run cattle on that land since 1901 and not once has a wildfire broken out. "Anyone with half a brain knows cattle eatunderbrush and that keeps fire hazards down. They should be begging us to graze on their land."
Dad's phone buzzes. He checks the text, grunts. "Sheriff. Kit's in holding again."
I blink. What the heck? "What happened? What do you meanagain?"
Mom sighs, already gathering her purse. "That girl will be the death of me."
"What's going on with Kit?" I demand. My baby sister’s in jail and they’re acting like she snuck out to go to the movies.
Dad keeps his head down, typing on his phone. I look to Mom for an answer. "That girl's got a wild side a mile wide," she exhales as she rubs her temples.
"You'd know that if you stayed home," Dad grumbles.
"You should worry less about me and pay more attention to what’s happening on your ranch." I jut out my chin. "For all you know Brook’s running a brothel out of the feed store."
Mom smirks. “Thank heavens I have one child I don’t have to worry about.”
That’s fair.
Dad motions to the waitress. "Put his dinner on our tab."
I open my mouth to protest Dad buying me dinner and then snap it shut as Mom kisses my head.
"Love you," she says.
"You too," I reply automatically, still spinning from what just exploded in my life. I want to grab her hand and make her explain what's happening. It hasn't been that long since Iwas home last but Kit's in jail—again? As in, this has happened before?
And who did Mom hire to help with the fire issue? Mom's been involved in politics since before I was born. She knows her way around the state legislature as well as I do around a bucking chute. Why would Mom need help fighting this?
