Page 62 of Mail-Order Viscountess

Five days that could have been a single day if his brothers would have just listened to him.

Thomas shifted in his saddle as the ranch house came into view, every muscle in his body screaming for rest. His hands ached from wielding picks and shovels. His shoulders burned from hauling rock and ice. And his ribs—the ones that had only just begun to heal—throbbed with each breath, a constant reminder of every wrong move he’d made over the past week.

Behind him, James and Enoch rode in similar silence, their horses plodding through the churned mud of the trail. Robert had stayed behind a few more hours at the Jenkins’ place to help Samuel move the surviving cattle to fresh pasture.

Fifteen head. That’s how many they’d saved.

Three dead when they finally broke through the wall of snow and debris. Three animals that might have lived if they’d taken the back trail like Thomas had suggested. If his brothers had trusted him enough to consider his plan instead of dismissing it outright.

The familiar bitterness rose in his throat, sharp as bile.

He’d worked alongside them without complaint. Dug until his hands bled through his gloves. Taken the night shifts when the cold cut deepest.

And through it all, not one of them had acknowledged that maybe—just maybe—he’d been right.

The ranch yard spread before them now, smoke curling from the main house chimney in lazy spirals against the gray afternoon sky. Home. Though the word felt hollow in his chest.

“I’ll take the horses.” James’s voice came out rough with exhaustion. “You two go on inside.”

Thomas dismounted without answering, his boots hitting the packed earth with a jolt that traveled up through his knees. He handed his reins to James and headed for the house, not trusting himself to speak.

Enoch fell into step beside him. “You did good work out there.”

“Did I?” The words came out a bit too sharp. “Didn’t feel like it mattered much.”

His brother’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. Just climbed the porch steps and pushed through the front door, letting a wave of warm air wash over them both.

The great room stood empty save for the fire crackling in the hearth. The familiar scent of Mrs. Wang’s cooking drifted from somewhere deeper in the house—beef stew, maybe, with that hint of ginger she always added. His stomach clenched with hunger, but the rest of him didn’t care about food right now.

He needed to find Kate. Needed to tell her what he’d decided during those long, cold nights of digging through snow while his brothers pretended his ideas didn’t exist.

California.

The name had become a drumbeat in his mind. Constant. He was done waiting. Done hoping things would change. Done being the youngest brother whose voice didn’t matter.

He needed to talk to Kate about the plan. Should he go ahead to California now, get things established, then come back for her and Clara in the summer? Or would they want to go with him right away?

Either way, he couldn’t stay here. Not as an afterthought. Not as someone whose judgment would never be trusted simply because he’d had the misfortune of being born last.

“You’re back.” Mrs. Wang stepped from the dining room with a tray in her arms, but halted when she saw him and Enoch. Her sharp gaze swept over them both. “Go wash. Both of you. Then come and eat. Where are James and Robert?”

“Robert stayed to help Samuel.” Enoch pulled off his gloves and tucked them into his coat pocket. “James is seeing to the horses.”

Her expression softened. “The cattle?”

“Three lost. Fifteen saved.” Enoch’s voice carried the weight of those numbers—the cost of decisions made and time wasted.

She nodded, then turned to Thomas. Something in her gaze made him want to look away—that particular knowing she’d perfected over the years of raising them all. “You need rest more than food, I think.”

“I’m fine.”

“Hmm.” She didn’t believe him, of course. But she simply gestured toward the stairs. “Your wife is in her sister’s room. Clara is not well.”

The words cut through his fog of exhaustion and frustration. “Not feeling well? What’s wrong?”

“A fever. Started yesterday.” Mrs. Wang’s tone had gone matter-of-fact, though concern flickered beneath it. “Nothing serious yet, but Kate has stayed with her.”

He started toward the stairs.