Chapter 19
SEBASTIAN
Dad lies on the examination table, his shirt cut away, his shoulder a mess of torn flesh. Doctor Reeves, a former army surgeon who’s been on retainer since I was a kid, works with efficient calm while two nurses assist.
“Clean through and through,” he says, probing the wound while Dad grits his teeth. “Missed the bone, missed major arteries. You’re lucky, Walker.”
“Don’t feel lucky,” Dad says with a grimace.
“You’re alive. That’s lucky.” Reeves irrigates the wound, blood and saline running pink into a basin. “But you’ve got tissue damage, probable nerve involvement. You’ll need surgery to repair it properly.”
“Repair it here.”
“Walker, I can stabilize you, close the wound and manage infection. But for nerve repair, you need a real surgical suite. A hospital.” Reeves meets Dad’s eyes. “What you don’t need is sepsis because you’re too stubborn to get proper treatment.”
“He’s right, Dad,” I say, standing against the wall, arms crossed, trying to ignore his blood on my hands. “This needs more than we can get here.”
“And how do we explain a gunshot wound? Tell them I was cleaning my gun and it went off?” Dad’s laugh is bitter. “Every law enforcement agency in three counties will be crawling over this ranch by morning.”
“So we say you were target-shooting and there was an accident,” Caroline interrupts from the doorway. “Ricochet, bad angle, happens all the time. No one needs to know you were shot during a cattle raid.”
“They’ll ask questions.”
“Let them ask. Give minimal information and dare them to prove otherwise. I’ll deal with the questions.” Caroline moves into the room, her heels clicking on the tile. “But Dad, you need actual surgery, which means a hospital. We can manage the narrative.”
I watch the argument play out, but my mind is on the ambush. The trap. The fact that Marshall knew exactly when and where we’d be coming.
Someone told them.
Someone in our camp leaked our plans.
“Where’s Nathaniel?” I ask.
“Checking the perimeter with the ranch hands,” Caroline answers. “Making sure the Marshalls didn’t follow us back.”
“And James?”
“On the phone with my legal team. Making sure we have cover for whatever fallout comes from tonight.” She turns to Dad. “Which brings us back to the hospital question. What’s it going to be?”
Dad looks at me, and I see something I’ve never seen before in his eyes. Uncertainty. Maybe even fear. He is sixty-eight years old with a bullet wound that could cost him the use of his arm if it isn’t properly treated. For the first time in my life, my father looks old.
“Hospital,” I say before he can argue. “We’ll handle the questions. Right now, you need surgery.”
“When did you become so bossy, Sebastian?”
“You taught me that protecting the family means making hard choices. This is one of them.”
The room goes quiet. Everyone stares at me, Caroline with surprise, the medical staff with relief, Dad with something that might be pride mixed with resentment.
“Fine,” he finally says. “But, son, you find out who leaked our plans. Someone told the Marshalls we were coming. Someone on this ranch betrayed us.”
“I know.”
“Find them. Deal with them. Quietly.” Dad’s eyes are hard despite the pain. “We can’t afford traitors.”
Doctor Reeves clears his throat. “I’ll call for medical transport. Get him to County General. They’ve got an excellent surgical team.”
As the doctor moves away to make calls, I leave the medical facility and walk out into the night. The barn area is still chaos, ranch hands tending horses, checking weapons, discussing the ambush in low, angry voices.
I find Lennox near Duchess’s stall, brushing the mare down with mechanical precision. Her face is pale, her hands steady, her eyes distant. There’s blood on her shirt, dark stains I hope to God aren’t hers.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, grabbing her shoulders and turning her toward me.
“No.” Her voice is flat. “Your father?”
“He needs surgery. We’re taking him to the hospital.” I move closer, and she doesn’t pull away. “Pete told me you shot a man.”
“Yes.”
“First time?”
“Shooting a person? Yes. Shooting a gun? No.” She turns back and keeps brushing Duchess, the rhythmic motion apparently soothing. “He went down hard. I don’t know if I killed him.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” I lean against the stall door. “How are you handling it?”
“I’m not.” She finally looks at me, and her eyes are empty. “I’m standing here brushing a horse and pretending I didn’t just shoot someone. Pretending this is normal. Pretending any of this is okay.”
“It’s not okay.”
“No shit it’s not okay!” She throws the brush, and it slams against the stall wall.
“You dragged me into a fucking cattle raid that turned into a firefight. Your father got shot. I shot someone. And now we’re all standing around like this is just another day on this fucking ranch.
” Her voice rises with each word, drawing attention from nearby ranch hands.
I grab her arm and pull her into an empty tack room, closing the door behind us.
“Keep your voice down,” I growl at her.
“Or what? You’ll punish me? Lock me up in a basement? Remind me that I’m your property?” She shoves at my chest. “I warned you this was a trap. I told you the Marshalls were baiting you into doing something stupid. But you went anyway, for what?”
“Because they stole from us.”
“And now your father has a bullet wound. How is that better?” She shoves me again, harder. “You almost got people killed tonight, Sebastian. Your own people. Your family. For what? Pride? Legacy? The need to prove you’re still a Texas rancher instead of a California resort owner?”
The accusations hit hard, because she’s right. Every word of it is right.
“Yes, it was a trap. Someone leaked our plans,” I say quietly. “Marshall knew we were coming. They were ready and waiting with superior numbers and firepower. This isn’t just about them stealing cattle. This is about setting us up for a massacre.”
That stops her. “What?”
“Someone on this ranch told them we were coming. Gave them our approach routes, our timing, probably our numbers.” I run both hands through my hair. “Dad’s right. We have a traitor.”
Lennox sinks onto a tack trunk, the anger draining out of her. “Who knew about the raid?”
“Family. Senior ranch hands. The men we asked to come with us.” I start pacing the small room. “Anyone could have made a phone call. Sent a text. We weren’t exactly subtle about preparing.”
“Who has a motive?”
“That’s what I need to figure out.” I stop pacing and look at her. “You’re good at reading people. At seeing things others miss. Help me.”
“Why would I help you? After you dragged me into the middle of that disaster tonight?”
“Because if there’s a traitor on this ranch, everyone’s in danger.
Including you.” I sit beside her, suddenly aware of how close I came to losing her tonight.
“I know you hate me. I know you’re counting the days until you can leave.
But right now, we’re on the same side. Someone tried to kill us all tonight.
I need to find out who before they try again. ”
She studies my face for a long moment. “I don’t hate you, Sebastian,” she whispers, and she rests her head on my shoulder with a sigh. “Do you really think they will?”
“They drew first blood. They didn’t kill anyone, but they sent a message. Next time, they’ll come harder.” I take her hands, feeling them tremble despite her controlled exterior. “Next time, they might succeed.”
“Then we call the police. The sheriff. Someone with actual authority.”
“And tell them what? That we raided Marshall property and got shot at? That there’s a range war brewing and we need law enforcement to pick sides?” I shake my head. “Out here, we handle our own problems. Involving outside authorities is a weakness.”
“That’s insane.”
“That’s Texas.” I stand, pulling her up with me. “Will you help me or not?”
She’s quiet for so long, I’m sure she’s going to refuse. “What do you need me to do?”
“Watch. Listen. People talk around you because you’re new, and you’re a woman. They don’t think you’re a threat.” I move toward the door. “Someone’s going to slip up. Say something they shouldn’t. Share knowledge they shouldn’t have. When they do, I need you to tell me.”
“And then what?”
“Then I find out why they betrayed us. Who they’re working for. What they’ve already told Marshall.” I open the door. “What happens after that depends on their answers.”
The implied threat hangs in the air between us. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to protect this family, this ranch. Even things Lennox would never forgive.
She knows it too. I can see the knowledge in her eyes, the understanding that she’s married a man capable of violence when circumstances demand it.
“I’ll watch,” she finally says. “But Sebastian? If you kill someone over this, if you cross that line, I’m done. I’ll finish the two years because I have to. But whatever we’ve been building? That’s over.”
“Understood.”
We leave the tack room and find Nathaniel waiting near the barn entrance. His face is grim, splattered with Dad’s blood, exhaustion written in every line of his body.
“Medical transport just left with Dad,” he says. “Caroline and Mom went with him. James is handling the legal prep in case law enforcement shows up.”
“Good.” I look around at the ranch hands. “Everyone accounted for?”
“Three minor injuries, grazes, nothing serious. Horses are all fine. We lost track of the cattle in the chaos, but we can search for them at first light.” Nathaniel’s jaw tightens. He glances at Lennox. “You okay? I heard you took down a few of their men.”
“I’m fine.”
“She saved my ass. Probably Pete’s too. Charged right into the fight when I told her to stay back.”
“Sounds like a keeper,” Nathaniel says with a tired smile.
“Go to the girls, hopefully they were asleep for all of this.”
“Already did. They’re out cold.” Nathaniel claps me on the shoulder. “I’m heading in. Call if you need anything.”
“Nathaniel, if you need me to keep the girls all you have to do is show up with them,” Lennox says, and Nathaniel nods.
After he leaves, I turn to find Lennox watching me with those penetrating blue eyes.
“You’re not going to sleep tonight, are you?” she asks.
“Can’t. Too much to do. Statements to review, security to increase, the leak to investigate.” I start toward the main house. “You should get some rest, though. It’s been a long night.”
“Sebastian.” She catches my arm. “Be careful.”
“I will,” I say quietly. “And Lennox? Thank you. For tonight. For having my back even when you had every reason not to.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I still might kill you myself before this is over.”
I smile. “Fair enough.”
We walk back to the main house together, hand in hand, exhaustion settling into my bones. The adrenaline crash is coming; I can feel it building, but I can’t afford to give in to it. Not yet.
Somewhere on this ranch, a traitor is watching, waiting, reporting back to the Marshalls about our every move.
I have to find them. Before they get us all killed.