Chapter 4
Bentley
Eighteen years later
My boots crunch along the snow as I head out to find my father. My entire life revolves around this ranch, even when I’m not physically here.
I came home every weekend while I was in college and getting my masters in graphic design and marketing. I wasn’t interested in the agricultural side of cattle ranching, nor the veterinary aspect.
I wanted to give my father and the other ranchers a fighting chance against these big city ranchers who are trying to force them out.
Digital marketing creates a different playing field for ranchers. From having award winning cattle, to prized bulls to impregnate the cows, everything works together to keep a steady income going.
It’s a constant battle to keep our cattle healthy and happy, which includes constantly checking the feed supply so it’s not poisoned. The “accidents” didn’t end with my mother, we’ve just gotten a whole lot smarter to ensure they aren’t happening as often.
I had to talk my dad into putting in electrical fencing. It keeps our cattle from escaping, and keeps intruders to a minimum.
That doesn’t mean we don’t still worry at all different times of the day about the people on our farm being paid to hurt us. We pay our people well, but not everyone is trustworthy. The only way to truly stop this madness is to force out our biggest competitors by bankrupting them.
I need my father to give me the go ahead to destroy these fuckers. Leif Walker is a hard worker, but he is not cutthroat enough to grind his peers into the ground. I’m going to need to present this differently or he’s going to tell me some shit about being a better person.
I’m protective, a good son and brother, but I am not a pushover. That’s never been part of my DNA.
“Dad, do you have a minute?” I ask, walking up to where he’s talking with a few people. They’re ranch hands who work for us, and they’re getting instructions for the day since there’s always something to do on the ranch.
A part of me feels badly that I’m not doing as much physical labor here, but Dad insists that my work is elsewhere.
“Yep. We good here?” Dad asks gruffly.
The men all say that they’re good to go, and greet me before going their separate ways.
“Let’s go inside,” Dad says. “It’s too fucking cold to be out here. Plus, you look like you have a lot to tell me.”
“It’s not a dissertation or anything,” I sigh, smirking as he rolls his eyes.
“Fancy education and fancy words,” he grumbles. “Now, let’s see what those things have in store for me.”
“It’s not nearly that bad,” I laugh, going inside.
My sisters are all out of the house right now, so we have a few hours before they’re home. While I tell myself that it’s nice to be able to enjoy the quiet inside the house, I still love how full of life it is.
My grandmother passed away five years after my mother was trampled to death by the herd. It was a loss that kicked my dad and I in the nuts, because neither of us were ready for her to go. I don’t think any amount of time would have been enough, though.
I’ve been playing with the idea of moving, starting my life somewhere else, and it’s still too painful for me to do it yet. What if something happens to my family and I wasn’t here to protect them? It wouldn’t be beneath our neighbors to set the house on fire to take care of the competition.
It happened to the Peterson family two years ago, and none of them survived. Guess who bought their property and livestock?
Bobby Trumaine and his father. Bobby grew up to be even more of an asshole than he was in school. I haven’t punched him since then either. I think a karmic dildo without lube is the next best thing, don’t you?
“Don’t sound quite so excited,” I grumble, grabbing my laptop to show him the prototype for the ranch’s website.
I’ll make sure the keywords will bring people’s searches to the website, push advertising toward it to drive up interest, and keep people invested as we move toward selling cattle as new calves are born. It’s a dance that varies from year to year, and one that my father does very well.
I just want to expand his reach in a way that these other ranchers can’t because they’re not willing to think outside of the box.
“Don’t be like that,” Dad chuckles, starting the coffee maker in the kitchen as we sit together at the table. “You’ve been quiet, broody, and planning for weeks. Show me what you’ve been working on.”
“Okay, look.”
I walk him through the website, how it’s not live yet, and all of its capabilities. I also discuss how it’ll help the ranch stay not only afloat, but it’ll also help us grow.
“Our bulls breed strong calves, right?” I ask, knowing the answer.
His grunt is all I need to explain my next point. Pulling off the hair tie on my wrist, I pull my shoulder length blonde hair into a man bun so I can think better.
Does that sound crazy? Maybe, but when it gets into my face, I can’t think.
“Right now, we work with other ranches to breed with our bulls. We charge them a fee, but our range isn’t very big.
What if we could expand that and have ranchers come from other states to breed with our bulls, therefore increasing the demand for our services?
” I ask. “The fee wouldn’t be astronomical, but it would help to pad our finances. ”
“As long as the fee is still fair, I don’t have a problem with that,” Dad admits. “What else?”
I walk him through the other things the website would highlight, services we can offer, and how it’ll benefit us.
“A website will do all of that?” Dad asks mistrustingly.
“It will. We used to be a household name in the area when I was younger, but for various reasons, that’s changed,” I explain. “The digital world has helped businesses come together, but it’s also buried others.”
“I thought this was about our issues with our neighbors, but this is all really solid stuff,” Dad says.
Yeah, because I decided at the last minute not to discuss any of that with him. I love the man, but he is not cutthroat. He wants to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.
While I appreciate that, some people are simply driven by selfish and evil fuel. I’ll protect my family my way.
“What else is going on in your mind?” he asks, eyes narrowing.
“I want to pitch my services to ranches we are on good terms with,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I’ll discount my fee to build their websites, offer to run and update them, in an effort to push down visibility to the Runway Ranchers. Word of mouth will always remain a way to build a business.”
“This is true,” Dad says, moving to the coffee machine to pour us both coffee. “What else?”
“Why does there have to be more?” I ask, raising my brow at him.
“I’m your father, and while I can be faulted for being too kind, I am not an idiot,” he growls. “You’re up to something.”
“Up to what? World domination?” I ask with a snort, leaning my large frame back in my chair. “Honestly, I think you’ve been binge watching too many shows.”
“The twins have me watching this psychological thriller show,” Dad grunts.
My lips twitch because Margie and Hazel are graduating college this year, yet they have him wrapped around their finger. They both love murder mysteries along with thrillers, and they’ll record their favorites to watch with our dad before he heads to bed.
It’s adorable, though slightly disturbing that they get so excited about it.
“I should have guessed. There’s nothing unhinged about my business plan,” I tell him, grinning as he makes a foul sound.
“The four of you are all unhinged in some way, even the little one,” Dad says, sipping his coffee as he pushes mine across the table.
“At least my plan isn’t against the law,” I tease him.
“Not that I know of anyway. Alright, you said this thing wasn’t live yet. Do your Frankenstein thing and bring it to life then,” Dad says.
God, I fucking love him. A few key strokes push the website visible to the world, and I open an email with some of our closest friends to send it to them with a proposal.
Ready or not, I’m coming for you, mother duckers. Quack, quack.
We just won’t tell my dad about it.
Eight months later
“Did you hear that the Trumaines might lose their ranch to the bank?” Dad asks.
He’s making dinner for us while Margie and Hazel pick Laura up from chorus camp. Laura sings like an angel, and Dad told her the world should be able to hear it for as long as it brings her joy.
No matter how busy he is, my dad is still making sure his kids are happy.
I have a feeling my mother is grinning from ear to ear with pride.
My father has never wanted to look in the direction of another woman or man, saying he already had the love of his life for sixteen years, he doesn’t want anyone else.
“I did hear that,” I admit to my father.
It’s not just the Trumaines either. There are four other families who are in danger of losing their ranches as well.
Apparently, there have been rumors swirling through the community that these families are giving their cattle hormones to increase their weight gain.
The issue with this is that while it speeds up the time it takes for their animals to grow, it also isn’t safe when it comes to selling them for their meat.
Sacrificing the livestock’s health is a huge faux pas in the industry, and if they’re willing to do this, the rumors are flying about what else they’re doing.
Did I encourage the rumors? You bet your ass I did. A drink with a buddy here and there helps to get the ball rolling, then the rumors continue until they can’t be traced back to me.
Meanwhile, my family’s ranch is doing really well. Dad is even looking into selling our bulls’ semen in a less conventional way than sex between a bull and a female cow. He knows that ranching means leaning into new technology, and he’s more willing to do that now.
Thank fuck for that.
“Will their land go up for sale?” I ask, moving to help him by making a salad.
The girls will be back soon, and they’ll be starving. A salad will keep them from growling too much at us while the casserole finishes being cooked.
“It doesn’t look like they’re going to get a miracle,” Dad says. “The community wants to make things fair, so we don’t have another asshole come in who thinks they know better than us.”
“It keeps things from becoming a monopoly. Who the hell has the kind of cash to buy that much land?” I ask, cutting up a tomato. “Those five families have a fuck ton of it.”
“Well, not for long,” Dad says, allowing himself a vengeful smile. “Do I need to worry about this turn of events?”
He leans against the large butcher block island, watching as I methodically cut, chop, and assemble the salad.
“Nope,” I reply. I can feel his eyes burning into me, and I shrug, glancing up at him. “Whatever I did, it won’t blow back on us.”
“I fucking knew it,” he says. “Argh. You’re too damn smart for your own good, boy.”
“It’s that fancy education,” I tease him, winking as I shove the salad tongs into the bowl. I can tell he’s concerned but not pissed off, which means he won’t bug me too much about this.
“Apparently,” he mutters. The sound of the porch door swinging open and slamming shut is loud as the girls come in, and Dad shakes his head. “This isn’t over.”
“Yes, sir,” I say immediately, bringing the salad to the table and putting out the dishes and silverware.
“I’m starving,” Laura groans dramatically.
“Are you doing chorus or drama?” Dad asks, chuckling as the timer goes off for the casserole. “Set your whine on pause and wash up. Dinner’s ready.”
My sisters wash their hands while I mull over the information that I currently have. I’ll have to dig into the public records to see when they’ll be kicked out. For their properties to be a source of conversation in town means that it’s a done deal.
It’s just how life here works. I’ll bide my time until I can finish what I started. It’s the patient who reap the largest rewards, or that’s what I’m told.
My family is loud, talks over each other, and is chaotic, but I love it. I let the conversation flow as I eat, enjoying the drama of high school.
“Bobby’s brother, Arlo, told me he’s moving,” Hazel says suddenly, biting her lip. That information makes me blink as I focus back on the conversation.
Dad and I don’t discuss ranch politics around my sisters, but it’s hard for them not to hear things. This area lives and breathes this life, which means everyone fucking gossips.
“Is that so?” I ask. “When was this? Is Arlo as much of a dick as his brother?”
My dad shoves a forkful of food into his mouth to keep it busy, essentially giving me the floor for gentle interrogation. If Travis Trumaine’s other sons are manipulative dickweeds like Bobby, I’ll make sure they’re never heard from again.
The worst of them will die, while the mostly innocent can get sent to foster care. Men like Travis don’t have families because they’ve driven them all away. The only way to keep people close to you when you’re that evil is to make them complicit in your crimes.
Travis has two very young daughters, and I very much doubt they’ve had anything to do with fucking with my family.
He keeps them at boarding schools for the most part, and barely sees them.
As things became more volatile between our neighbors, Travis decided to send them away.
I doubt evil has managed to find them yet.
“I think he’s scared of his dad,” Hazel says sadly. “He always has welts all over his arms that he blames on working on the ranch. I saw him walking around while we were waiting for Laura. I think he was killing time.”
Hmm. Not evil, but he definitely needs a new life. Maybe I’ll leave him bus money and a ticket to get the fuck out of here. Arlo graduated with my older sisters, which means that he’s an adult. He came back to town once he finished college, and that doesn’t work for me.
I’ll find a way to help him skip town and find a way to protect his sisters before I move on to his family.
Everything has to be perfect.