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Living on a ranch isn’t as quiet as the movies portray it. Cattle are noisy, especially when they’re being moved in and out of their pens. Between the equipment and animals, the ranch is alive with sounds.
When I get moving for the day, I pass through town, only to see Ransack is still blocked off by the fire department. Nora is at school, Elsie said she was leaving town for a couple of days, and Shane hasn’t responded to my text letting him know I’m awake. There’s nothing to do as I sit at the stoplight. It takes someone honking their horn behind me to finally make the right turn toward Harrison Family Ranch.
Like Ironside Ridge, Will’s ranch is a good distance from town, but in the opposite direction. Miles of open plains stretch before I finally reach the posts marking the main entrance. The iron scrawl of our family name stretches the arch overhead, with horseshoes on either end.
Unlike many other ranches in Lanceleaf, my family never gave ours a fancy name. When I asked my grandfather why that was, he told me it’s because all a man really has in this world is his name, and that’s all that’s left of him when he’s gone. I didn’t understand it at the time, but now, pausing on the road, I consider those words.
I think about my brother carrying on our family’s legacy. How Will helped out his neighbors when Zander signed leases with the oil companies and prime grazing pastures were turned into oil fields. Zander’s money quickly changed this town because, financially, he’s helped rebuild Lanceleaf, but in other ways, he’s taken it apart. It’s created this divide that was here long before Shane and his club arrived; we’re only just now facing it.
My brother stands by the family name and fights for the version of this town it once helped build. I respect him for it.
Pulling up to the main house, Will is nowhere in sight, but if I know my brother, he’s been up since before sunrise. He barely sleeps and never sits still. He runs on coffee and breakfast burritos, though he rarely eats before noon.
I throw the truck into park and decide to go looking for him, unsurprised when I find him working in the calf pen.
Will has no problem getting his hands dirty. Even with a full staff on hand to run the ranch, he’s always doing something. It’s one of the things I admire about my oldest brother, but I’ll never tell him that.
“You need a day off.” I lean against a panel, watching him mount a new water bucket outside one of the gates.
“There’s too much to get done around here to take a day off.”
“There’s always too much to get done around here, but you have plenty of people to help you out with it. Take a break and come hang out with your sister.”
“If you’re bored, you can grab the other side of this and help.”
I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes at him. “Nice try.”
He chuckles, dragging his hair off his forehead. My brothers used to tease me that I was spoiled when it came to chores around the ranch because Dad always let me pick and choose what I wanted to do. Unlike them, who were handed the rest and told not to complain about it. Maybe I should feel guilty, but unlike Will, I never saw myself doing this for the rest of my life. Especially after the rough year that followed my thirteenth birthday.
It was a hot, dry year, and the drought did a number on the land. Every ranch in town was struggling as we entered breeding season. As if things weren’t bad enough, one of our herds got sick. Disease swept through fierce and fast. Fevers and blisters were rampant. Many of the heifers lost their calves, and a number of others had to be euthanized to control the spread. It was awful.
After that, I knew I didn’t have the stomach for this place. Not like Will. He was always meant to work this land.
He finishes what he’s doing and stands, brushing his hands off. “Everything all right? Haven’t seen you out here since…” He scratches his jaw, thinking.
Honestly, I don’t remember the last time I stopped by either. It’s been a decade since we lost Mom, but she’s all over this place. She’s in the paint colors that make the Harrison Ranch the most colorful ranch in Lanceleaf. She’s in the flowers planted around every house, barn, and building. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been; being here makes her loss feel like it happened yesterday.
“I’m okay.” I shrug, trying to shake this unsettling feeling that won’t seem to loosen in my chest. “But I’d be better if Liam would let me walk into Ransack and see what we’re dealing with.”
“You know he has to play it safe until they clear the building.”
“I know,” I grumble. “But so long as I’m locked out, I’m bored. So how about you come inside and hang out with your wonderful sister for a few minutes. Have you had coffee yet?”
“Around three.”
“In the morning?”
He hitches an eyebrow that says, What other time of day would I be referring to?
“Good lord, that’s early. You need to learn to sleep in. And date. And have a life.”
“Are you here for any particular reason or just to judge me?”
“Can’t it be both?” I tease. “Come on. It’s time for a break.”
Without waiting for Will to agree, I walk away, knowing he’ll follow eventually. Someone needs to remind him there is a world outside of this place. Otherwise, he’ll happily work himself into the ground.
As expected, Will strolls up to the main house by the time I’m carrying two mugs of coffee out the front door. He takes one, leaning against the railing. I rest against one of the posts and take a sip.
