Chapter 20
LENNOX
I can’t sleep. Sebastian’s old bedroom in the main house is massive, bigger than my entire apartment in California, with a giant four-poster bed and windows overlooking the front drive.
Eleanor insisted everyone stay in the main house tonight in case the Marshalls decided to retaliate, so here we are, in Sebastian’s childhood room, surrounded by remnants of the boy he was.
Rodeo trophies on shelves. Photographs of a teenage Sebastian on horseback. A bookshelf filled with ranching manuals and business textbooks. This room tells the story of a kid trying to figure out where he fit: a ranch legacy or a business empire.
I pace the hardwood floor in the nightgown Eleanor had provided—silk, expensive, completely impractical. My mind races through the events of the night. The ambush. The gunfire. Walker bleeding. The cattle scattering in panic.
The cattle.
I stop pacing, a thought materializing.
Thomas Marshall had set a trap, positioning men with the stolen cattle to ambush us. But that ambush had gone sideways. We hurt them as much as they hurt us, maybe more. I shot at least one man. Pete dropped two. And there were other exchanges of gunfire I didn’t see.
Which means the other side is also dealing with casualties. Wounded men. Maybe dead ones. They’ll be focusing on that, getting their people medical attention, covering up gunshot wounds just like we’re doing with Walker.
The cattle will be the least of their concerns right now.
And cattle are creatures of habit. Our stolen stock know where they belong. They’ve been grazing those same south pastures for months, know the water sources, have a routine. Spooked by gunfire and scattered across unfamiliar territory, they’ll be confused, jumpy, looking for anything familiar.
If someone were to go out there right now, while the Marshalls are distracted, someone who knows how to move cattle quietly and efficiently, those animals would practically push themselves back across the property line.
We can get our cattle back while they are too busy with their own problems to notice.
I can do it. I’ve moved cattle at night before in Montana during calving season, when you have to shift heifers to different pastures without disturbing the whole herd. It’s delicate work, requires patience and skill, but it’s absolutely doable.
The question is whether Sebastian will let me try.
I look down at the silk nightgown, at my bare feet. Not exactly cattle-moving attire. But if I go back to change into my clothes, I might lose my nerve. I might start thinking of all the reasons this is a terrible idea instead of the one reason it is brilliant.
I grab a robe from the bathroom and head into the hallway. The house is quiet at this hour, just the sound of my footsteps on marble and the distant murmur of voices from downstairs.
I follow the voices to what looks like Walker’s study. The door is open, light spilling into the hallway, and I hear Sebastian’s voice, low and intense.
“—can’t be one of the senior hands. They’ve been with us too long. But someone talked, and I need to know who.”
“Could be one of the newer guys.” That’s Nathaniel. “We hired five hands this spring. Any of them could have been planted.”
“Or it could be someone with a grudge. Someone Dad’s pissed off, someone who sees an opportunity.” James this time. “We’ve got forty employees on the ranch. That’s forty potential leaks.”
I knock softly on the door frame. Three heads turn toward me, and I see Sebastian’s expression shift from intense focus to surprise.
“Lennox. What are you doing up?”
“I can’t sleep.” I tighten the robe around myself, suddenly very aware I am standing in front of three men in what amounts to expensive lingerie. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows rise, but he stands. “Give me a minute.”
He ushers me out of the study and down the hall to a smaller room, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and leather furniture. He closes the door behind us.
“What’s wrong?” His eyes travel over me, lingering slightly at my breasts, and he licks his lips. Typical man. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I have an idea.” I start pacing again, the silk robe swishing around my legs. “About the cattle. About getting them back.”
“Lennox, we’ll search for them at first light. Right now—”
“No, listen. Right now is exactly when we should go. The Marshalls are dealing with casualties. Wounded men, maybe dead. They’re regrouping, handling their own crisis. They’re not going to be watching empty pastures for stray cattle.”
He’s quiet, listening now instead of dismissing me.
“And those cattle are confused, jumpy, scattered across unfamiliar territory. But they know where they belong. They’ve been on your south pastures for months. They know the water sources, the routine and where home is.” I stop pacing and face him.
“If someone went out there right now and started rounding them up and moving them back toward our property line, they’d go. Cattle are creatures of habit. When they’re stressed, they want familiar ground.”
“You want to go cattle rustling. Tonight. Hours after we barely survived an ambush.” His tone is flat, unreadable.
“I want to recover our property while the Marshalls are too distracted to stop us.” I move closer. “Think about it, Sebastian. They’re not expecting anyone to come back tonight. They think we’re licking our wounds, dealing with your father and being cautious. Which means their guard is down.”
“Or they’re waiting for exactly this. For us to be stupid enough to come back.”
“With twenty armed men, yes, that would be stupid. But two people? Moving quietly, staying low, just pushing cattle back across a property line?” I meet his eyes. “That’s not an attack. That’s just ranch work.”
“Two people can’t move twenty-three head of cattle.”
“I’ve done it before, back home during night moves.
I can do the work of three people. You just have to keep them pointed in the right direction and make sure none break off.
” I grab his arm. “I know you think I’m crazy.
But this’ll work. The cattle are already spooked and scattered.
They want to go home. We just have to show them the way. ”
Sebastian stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the calculations running behind his eyes. Risk versus reward. Stupidity versus brilliance. The possibility that I’m right versus the certainty that this could get us both killed.
“It’s too dangerous,” he finally says, shaking his head.
“More dangerous than what we did earlier? At least this time it’s just us. No one else is at risk. And if it goes wrong, if the Marshalls spot us, we’re just two people on horses. We can outrun them.”
“Lennox.”
“Sebastian, I don’t understand much about this world you’ve brought me into, but I know cattle, so let me help with something,” I say with finality.
“I’m going, with or without you. But those cattle are out there, and the longer we wait, the more scattered they’ll get.
By morning, they could be miles away. This is our window. ”
“You’re not going alone.”
“Then come with me.”
He’s quiet for so long, I expect him to refuse. Then, finally, he pulls out his phone and sends a quick text.
“What are you doing?”
“Telling Nathaniel and James I’m stepping out for a few hours, and that they’re in charge of security.” He pockets the phone. “Because apparently my wife has lost her mind and I’m not letting her ride onto Marshall property alone in a silk nightgown.”
Relief floods through me. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. If this goes wrong, if we get shot at again, I’m going to be furious with you.”
“If we get shot at again, you can be as angry as you want. But we won’t. Because we’re not going to be noticed.” I head for the door. “I need to change. Meet you at the barn in ten minutes?”
He catches my hand. His dark eyes search mine, and I see the moment he makes his decision. “Five minutes. Don’t make me wait.”
The barn is quiet when I arrive, dressed again in dark jeans, a black shirt and boots. Sebastian is already here, saddling Cisco with efficient movement. He’d changed, too, all black, no reflective surfaces, his face set in grim determination.
“Duchess is in the third stall,” he tells me without looking up. “Tack’s in the usual spot.”
I find the mare and go to work, my hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. This is wild, completely insane to be honest. But it will work. It has to work.
Sebastian appears beside me as I tighten Duchess’s cinch, checking my work with a critical eye. “Are you sure about this?” he asks.
“Yes. Are you?”
“No. But I’m trusting you anyway.” He adjusts the bridle slightly. “We go in quietly. No radios, no lights, nothing that could give us away. We find the cattle, push them back across the property line, and we’re gone before anyone notices.”
“Exactly.”
“And if we do get noticed? If Marshall spots us?”
“Then we ride like hell.” I swing into the saddle. “But we won’t need to. Trust me.”
“What I’ll do to you if this goes south will make you wish you were taken by Thomas Marshall,” he grumbles.
“Is that a threat or a warning?” I ask, turning in the saddle to look at him.
“It’s a promise, baby.” He laughs lightly.
We ride out into the night, just the two of us, heading back toward the property line and whatever waits beyond it. The temperature has dropped, cold air biting through my shirt, and the stars overhead seem impossibly bright.
“You know the irony of this?” Sebastian says quietly as we ride.
“What?”
We reach the cut fence line and pause, listening. No sounds beyond the normal night noises: insects, distant coyotes, the wind through mesquite. No engines, no voices, no indication anyone is watching.
“Last chance to turn back,” Sebastian says.
“No way.” I urge Duchess through the opening. “Come on. Those cattle aren’t going to move themselves.”
We cross onto Marshall land for the second time tonight, and I try not to think about the ambush, the gunfire, the man I shot. I need to focus on the work ahead: finding scattered cattle, gathering them quietly, pushing them home.
This is what I’m good at. I’m a rancher. And ranchers take care of their own.
I will prove to Sebastian, and to myself, that I’m more than just a woman he bought at an auction.