Under Broken Stars (Endless Sky Cowboys #3)

Chapter 1

Nick

“What do you mean we’re going to lose the ranch?” I asked, staring at my mother and father across the table, my food forgotten. “I know the herd has gotten thin, but are things really that bad?”

“I’m afraid so,” my father nodded. Mom reached over, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Cash flow has been bad for a long time. I haven’t been able to bring in more cattle or hands to help out. We’ve been in the red for nearly two years now.”

“I can get a job in town or something,” my sister offered, always the first to jump in with a solution. “To help make ends meet until we get the place back on its feet.”

My father shook his head. “Even if all four of us managed to get jobs, it wouldn’t be enough,” he said slowly. “And the loan has come due.”

“Loan?” I asked, tensing in my chair. “What loan?”

Dad tried to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, he just hung his head in shame. Mom reached out, rubbing his shoulders.

“A few years ago, we were facing foreclosure,” she said, telling the story in his stead.

“You two were still in high school at the time, so we didn’t tell you how bad things were.

But we were going to lose the ranch. It seemed almost certain.

” She took a deep breath, her usually warm demeanor turning cold.

“Not a single bank would help or give us a loan. So, we had to seek out… alternative methods.”

“Alternative methods?” I asked, my brow furrowed in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” she replied slowly, wincing at each word. “That we took a private loan from a family out east.” She swallowed hard. “A mafia family.”

The room was as silent as death.

My sister’s fork clattered against her plate, the sound making me flinch. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The word hung in the air like smoke from a brush fire.

Mafia.

“Jesus Christ,” I finally managed, my voice coming out hoarse. “Mom. Dad. What the hell were you thinking?”

“We were thinking we’d lose everything,” Dad said, finally finding his voice again. It sounded hollow, defeated. “The ranch has been in my family for three generations, son. I couldn’t—” His voice cracked. “I couldn’t let it go without a fight.”

I pushed back from the table, the chair legs scraping hard against the old wood floor. My hands were shaking. “So instead, you made a deal with the goddamn mob? How much? How much do we owe?”

Mom and Dad exchanged a look that made my stomach drop even further.

“Four… million,” Dad said quietly. “With interest.”

The number hit me like a kick from a horse. I braced myself against the counter, staring out the kitchen window at the darkening pasture beyond. The land we’d worked our whole lives. The land that might not be ours much longer.

“When?” My sister’s voice was small, frightened in a way I’d never heard from her before. “When do we have to pay?”

“End of the month,” Mom whispered.

Three weeks.

“And if we can’t?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

“They’ve given us two choices,” my mother answered in my father’s stead. “We either sign the ranch over to them or…”

She choked back a sob, unable to continue.

“Or what?” I pressed.

“Or,” my father said, finding his voice at last. “A marriage.”

“A marriage? What the hell does that mean?”

Both my parents were silent, neither one of them able to bring themselves to answer. To say the words out loud.

“It’s me, isn’t it?” Heather asked softly. I turned to my sister, seeing the tears in her eyes. “They want me.”

My mother nodded, still unable to speak.

“No,” I snapped. “Absolutely the fuck not. Let them have the ranch. They can’t—”

“I’ll do it,” Heather said, cutting me off.

“You can’t—”

“Nick,” she said, her voice shaking. “We can’t lose the ranch. Not after everything Daddy has been through.” She gave me a weak smile. “I don’t have any prospects in Hell Creek anyway and I probably—”

“Fuck that!” I barked back. “You can’t just go throwing your life away for a piece of land and a few cows! It’s not worth it!”

“It is to me,” Heather said quietly, meeting my eyes. “This is our home, Nick. Our family’s legacy.”

“Your sister’s right,” Dad said, though the words seemed to tear something out of him. “The Valenti family... they’re not unreasonable people. The marriage would be to one of the sons. Heather would be taken care of, and the ranch would stay in the family.”

I wanted to put my fist through the wall.

Instead, I gripped the table hard enough that my knuckles went white.

Outside, the last light was fading from the valley, turning the mountains into dark silhouettes against a purple sky.

I’d grown up looking at those peaks and learned to ride in the pastures below them.

I’d helped Dad mend fence lines and move cattle through every season under that endless sky…

But I never expected this.

“There has to be another way,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “We could sell off some of the land, downsize, pay them back in installments—”

“We tried all that,” Mom interrupted. “Mr. Valenti was very clear. These are the only two options he’ll accept.”

I turned to face them again, studying my father’s slumped shoulders, my mother’s red-rimmed eyes, my sister’s pale face. Something didn’t add up.

“Why marriage?” I asked. “What do they get out of that? If they want the ranch, why not just take it?”

Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “The Valentis are expanding their operations out west. They want... legitimacy. Connections to established families in Montana. A marriage ties them to the land legally, gives them a foothold that doesn’t look suspicious.”

“So, Heather’s just a goddamn business transaction to them.”

“Aren’t all marriages, to some degree?” my sister asked with a bitter laugh that didn’t sound like her at all.

“No,” I said flatly. “They’re not.”

The silence stretched between us again, heavy and suffocating. I could hear the old house settling around us, the wind picking up outside, and the distant sound of cattle lowing in the darkness.

“When do they need an answer?” I finally asked.

“Tomorrow,” Dad said. “Someone’s coming to the ranch tomorrow afternoon. To discuss the terms.”

Tomorrow. Christ.

I looked at my sister again, really looked at her. Twenty-three years old, her whole life ahead of her, and she was willing to throw it all away for this place. For family. The thought made something crack open in my chest.

“I want to be there,” I heard myself say.

“Nick—” Dad started.

“I said I want to be there.” I met his eyes, seeing my own desperation reflected back at me. “Before we agree to anything, I want to hear what they have to say. Face to face.”

Dad studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Alright. You can be there.”

“I’m coming too,” Heather said, straightening in her chair. Some of the color had returned to her cheeks, replaced by a stubborn set to her jaw that I recognized. We’d always been alike that way. Too damn stubborn for our own good.

“Of course,” Mom said quietly. “It’s your future we’re discussing.”

I turned away from them, staring out the window again at the land that had shaped every part of who I was.

The valley stretched out in the darkness, familiar as my own heartbeat.

Somewhere out there, cattle were bedding down for the night.

The river was running its eternal course through the cottonwoods.

And tomorrow, someone from a New Jersey crime family was going to show up on our doorstep to collect on a debt that would cost us everything, one way or another.

I thought about the kids I’d gone to school with who’d left Hell Creek the first chance they got. Smart ones who’d seen that ranching was a dying way of life, that holding onto the past was just slow-motion suicide. Maybe they’d been right all along.

But standing there in my parents’ dining room, with my sister willing to sacrifice herself and my father’s pride shattered across the table, I knew I couldn’t just walk away. Not yet. Not without a fight.

“What time tomorrow?” I asked.

“Two o’clock,” Dad said. “He’ll be here at two.”

“He?” Heather’s voice had gone small again. “Just one person?”

“A representative,” Mom clarified. “Mr. Valenti’s son is handling the western operations. He’ll be the one coming to discuss... arrangements.”

I felt something cold settle in my gut. A son. The same son who might end up married to my sister if we couldn’t find another way out of this mess.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

My parents exchanged another look, and I knew whatever they were about to say wouldn’t make me feel any better.

“Dante,” my father finally answered. “Dante Valenti.”

“Well,” Heather laughed bitterly. “At least I’ll get to meet him before he becomes my husband.”

I didn’t sleep that night. How could I?

Instead, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, watching shadows from the cottonwood outside my window shift across the plaster. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Heather’s face. That forced smile, the resignation in her eyes. Like she’d already accepted her fate.

Four million dollars. The number kept running through my head like a bad song on repeat.

How the hell had things gotten so bad without me noticing?

I’d been working the ranch alongside Dad for years now, ever since I’d decided college wasn’t for me.

Had I been that blind? Or had they just been that good at hiding it?

Around three in the morning, I gave up on sleep entirely and pulled on my jeans and boots.

The house was quiet as I made my way downstairs, avoiding the creaky third step out of habit.

Outside, the night air was cold enough to bite, sharp with the promise of an early frost. My breath plumed white in the darkness.

I walked without thinking, my feet carrying me down the familiar path to the barn. Inside, the horses shifted in their stalls, recognizing my footsteps. Buck, my gelding, nickered softly as I approached.

“Hey, boy,” I murmured, running my hand down his nose. His warmth was solid, real, and something I could hold on to when everything else felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

I leaned against the stall door, breathing in the familiar smells of hay, leather, and horse.

This barn had been here longer than I’d been alive.

My grandfather had built it with his own hands back when the ranch was in its prime.

Three generations of my family had worked this land, poured their sweat and blood into it.

And now some East Coast mobster was going to take it all away. Or take my sister. Same difference, really. Either way, we lost.

The barn door creaked behind me, and I turned to find Dad standing there in his robe and boots, looking about as rough as I felt.

“Figured I’d find you here,” he said quietly, moving to lean against the opposite stall. His face was half-shadowed in the dim light filtering through the cracks in the walls.

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t trust my voice not to crack.

“I know you’re angry with me,” he continued. “You have every right to be. I made a choice that affects all of us, and I didn’t give you or your sister a say in it.”

“You’re damn right I’m angry.” The words came out harder than I’d intended. “How could you not tell us? For years, Dad. Years.”

He flinched, and part of me was glad. The other part—the part that had worshiped this man my whole life—wanted to take it back.

“I thought I could fix it,” he said, his voice rough. “I thought if I just worked harder, made better deals, got lucky with the market... I thought I could pay them back before it came to this.”

“But you couldn’t.”

“No.” He hung his head. “I couldn’t.”

We stood there in silence, two men who’d worked side by side for years but had never been further apart. I wanted to understand, wanted to forgive him, but every time I tried, I saw Heather’s face again.

“There has to be another option,” I said finally. “Something we haven’t thought of. Maybe if I talked to them, explained—”

“You think I haven’t tried?” Dad’s voice cracked. “You think I haven’t begged? These aren’t reasonable men, Nick. They’re criminals. They don’t care about our family history or our legacy. All they care about is what we owe them and how they can use us.”

“Then we run. Pack up tonight and—”

“And they’d find us.” He met my eyes, and I saw real fear there for the first time in my life. “And it wouldn’t just be the ranch we’d lose. Mr. Valenti made that very clear.”

The implication settled over me like a heavy blanket. They’d hurt us. Probably kill us. That’s what these types of people did, wasn’t it? I’d seen enough movies, heard enough stories.

“So what?” I spat. “We just hand Heather over like she’s livestock?”

“No.” His voice turned hard. “We meet with this Dante Valenti tomorrow. We hear what he has to say. And we figure out if there’s any way to make this bearable for your sister. Maybe he’s... maybe he’s not as bad as we think.”

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. A mobster with a heart of gold. Right.

“And if he is as bad as we think?”

Dad was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “Then your sister gets to choose. Marry or leave. It’s up to her.”

But even as he said it, I knew what her choice would be. She’d protect the family. She always had.

For the first time in my life, I felt completely useless. Tomorrow was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not. Tomorrow our family would join the mob. Tomorrow, all our family debts came due at a terrible price.

God help us.