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“So stubborn.” He tries to bite back his smile and fails. “But thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being who you are.”

I don’t know what he means, and I don’t get the chance to ask. Asher rounds the corner, clearing his throat and interrupting us.

“Break it up before Dad starts asking Shane if he’s planning on getting down on one knee tonight. Food’s ready.” Asher laughs when I glare at him, disappearing again.

We find our way into the kitchen, and Dad immediately directs me to help my brothers. Liam and I set the table, getting in each other’s way as much as possible because that’s what we do. He shoves my shoulder playfully, and I mess up every place setting he sets. He makes me drop the salt and pepper, and I trip him on his way to grab more napkins.

It’s immature and ridiculous, but Shane watches with a smile as he sips his beer.

By the time we all sit down, Will has thoroughly explained to Shane the proper way to grill a steak, Liam has put out not one, but two fires Asher set trying to cook vegetables on the stove, and Dad has lectured me on the fact that he’s a grown man who should be allowed to smoke and eat steak if he so chooses.

“You are eating a steak,” I argue.

Dad pokes at his food. “Tofu steak is not steak.”

“He’s not wrong,” Will agrees, and I glare at him because he isn’t helping. “Just saying.”

“Just eat. I’m trying to keep you alive.” I sigh, and Dad finally looks up at me, frowning.

He eventually takes a bite, not hiding his disgust, but at least conceding. “Delicious.”

“Told you.” I know he’s lying, but I go along with it because if I don’t, I’m going to scream.

How is it that I’m suddenly the parent in this relationship, trying to keep him alive and safe? I have a new respect for how much I stressed Mom and Dad out during my teenage years.

“You boys cut out of here fast today,” Dad says, frowning at his tofu. “Everything all right this afternoon?”

All three of them go eerily quiet, glancing between each other and then at Shane. It was always obvious when my brothers were getting into trouble growing up because they’re terrible liars. Clearly, that hasn’t changed.

“Cattle thing,” Liam starts, clearing his throat.

Asher takes the hint and starts nodding in agreement. “Right, cattle, at Ironside Ridge. They had a…”

“Cave-in at one of the barns,” Will finishes.

Dad’s eyes narrow. “How is that a cattle thing?”

“It was a cattle barn?” Liam frames it as more of a question, obviously lying.

“Let me guess, your assistance was also needed for this”—Dad glances at Shane, waving his fork at my brothers—“mysterious cattle, barn, roof thing?”

“We all try to help out where we can,” Shane says, forcing a smile that makes me burst out laughing.

“You are the worst liars in the world,” I announce.

Dad nods in agreement but doesn’t push for answers. Just like I didn’t ask questions earlier. If the four of them are being this cagey, neither of us wants any part in it. I grew up here. On the outside, we’re a sweet, small town in the middle-of-nowhere Texas. But I’m not naive to what happens on occasion. Ranchers are territorial and ruthless.

So are bikers.

“I heard things are moving along at Ironside Ridge,” Dad says, changing the subject.

Shane nods. “We’re hoping electrical will be done in a couple of weeks.”

“That place will be up and running in no time.”