Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Gentry
“Fuckin’ goddamn stupid fences,” I growl under my breath.
“Hey, you called?” Hollis asks, jumping out of the side-by-side and jogging over to where I’m standing, my hands on my hips as I scan the far pasture.
“If it ain’t one thing, it’s a-fuckin’-nother.”
Finn hops out next and comes to stand next to me. “What happened?”
“The goddamn heifers found the one fuckin’ weak spot in the fence and broke through,” I grumble, gesturing in that direction. We just fucking fixed this, and now it’s broken again. “Just fuckin’ look at ’em. It’s like they got a fuckin’ sixth sense for inconvenience and pissin’ me off.”
Hollis squints against the late morning sun. “Fuck,” he breathes out, shaking his head. “This is gonna take hours.”
You’re goddamn right it will.
We have to walk them back onto our property and patch the fence, all while listening to Christensen blabber on about liability like he didn’t fucking lose half his herd a couple of years back to an open gate that he blamed on the wind.
This is a fucking disaster. I scrub a hand over my face, dirt and grit working its way onto my palm.
And it just had to be today. They couldn’t have escaped tomorrow when I’m not responsible for keeping track of a teenage boy.
Glancing to my right, I heave a sigh and ask Finn, “Lukas still at your place?”
He shakes his head. “No, Tripp took him to explore.”
I pull my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose. “Explore?”
Finn holds his hands up and shrugs. “Tripp’s words, not mine.”
“Of course,” I mutter as I start moving. “Come on. Let’s get this shit over with.” No point in sitting here pissed off. Cows don’t care about a man’s mood, and the fence won’t fix itself. Stewing over it is only going to prolong how long we’re out here.
I spot Christensen before we even reach the fence line, leaning on his truck like he’s got all the time in the world. With his arms crossed and his hat tipped back, the annoying fucker smiles. That alone adds ten minutes to this mess, maybe more, depending on how chatty he is today.
“Mornin’,” he says, a little too chipper for my liking, like my cattle haven’t been munching on his pasture like an all-you-can-eat buffet since last night.
“Didn’t plan on visitin’,” I mutter, already unlatching the gate.
He chuckles—chuckles—gesturing vaguely toward the pasture. “Yeah, well, things can get a little tricky when cattle cross property lines. Just want to make sure we’re on the same page about where your responsibility starts and mine ends.”
There it fucking is.
As if I’m fucking clueless. As if the sight of twelve red heifers on the wrong side of the fence hasn’t already clued me in on the issue.
Keeping my eyes on the herd, I clap to keep them moving as Finn and Hollis help corral them. “They’ll be back across in a minute. Don’t you worry.”
“Oh, sure,” he says. “Not a problem. It’s just, legally speakin’, once they’re over here, it can open folks up to liability. Fence is yours, after all. The county is pretty clear about that, as you know.”
I angle my body toward the cattle, not him. Time’s bleeding out while he talks. Every word like another nail in my patience. My jaw tightens as I nod, knowing if I give him anything more than that, it’ll turn into a never-ending fucking conversation.
He takes a step closer, and I grind my teeth. Goddamnit.
“Not that I mind,” he goes on. I’ve never met anybody who lacks more social awareness than Bob fucking Christensen. “Just thought I oughta mention it, in case something were to happen.”
Nothin’ happened. They’re standing there chewing while you talk my fuckin’ ear off.
“We’ll fix the fence,” Finn bites out, his dislike for our chatty neighbor maybe even stronger than my own.
“Well, good.” He smiles wider and tips his hat. “Wouldn’t want any hard feelings. Property lines and liabilities can be touchy for some folks.”
He doesn’t move, doesn’t leave us alone. He keeps fucking talking. The weather, the county, he even throws in the story about his cousin’s bull like he hasn’t already told us about it a hundred other times over the last fifteen years. We nod when we’re supposed to, but don’t stop working.
Finally, the last cow crosses back through the gate. I swing it shut harder than necessary.
“Fence’ll need reinforcing,” Christensen says, helpful as all hell. “Hate to see this become a reoccurring thing.”
“Won’t,” I mutter, already walking away.
I don’t look back. I’ve had enough neighbors for one day.
Back at the barn, I task Hollis and August with fixing the fence.
After I put a few things away, I head inside my house in search of Lukas and Tripp.
When I find it empty, I walk around, trying to see if they’re up here.
It’s entirely possible Tripp took him to August’s cabin toward the back of the property.
Pulling out my phone, I find Tripp’s number and hit call, bringing it up to my ear. It only rings twice.
“Hey, Mr. Moore,” he greets, as if I haven’t told him a million times to just call me Gentry.
“Are y’all at the cabin?”
“I am, but Lukas wanted to stay at your place after we ate lunch.”
“My house?” I ask sharply. “You sayin’ he was at my house when you went back to the cabin?”
“Uh, yes?”
“Goddamnit,” I hiss. My feet are already moving before my mind has a chance to catch up.
“Is that not okay? You said he was fine by himself.”
“He’s not at the house. I checked before callin’ you.”
“What about Finn’s place?” he suggests. “Could be there hanging out with Tucker.”
“I gotta go,” I mutter, ending the call in favor of dialing Ash.
My heart pounds a violent beat as I wait for the line to connect.
“Hey, Gen—”
“Is Lukas with you?”
“No, I haven’t seen him,” Ash says.
“Fuck.” I tip my head back, staring up at the sky like it can tell me where Lukas is.
“Why? Is everything okay?”
“I can’t find him,” I explain, my throat thick and my head suddenly dizzy. “He was with Tripp when the boys and I went to herd the cattle back onto the property, but Tripp left him at my house after lunch. He’s not there now.”
“I’ll be right there,” Ash says. Zero hesitation. “Tucker and I will help you look for him.”
“Thanks.”
The world is spinning. Fuck, I can’t breathe. What if something happened to him? What if he’s hurt? Remington trusted me to watch him.
As if Ash can sense my internal panic, he softly says, “Don’t worry, Gentry. We’ll find him.”
“I’m gonna walk up the hill and see if I can find him while y’all get here.”
“Okay. Be there in a minute.”
I hang up, then notice I have a text from Tripp.
Tripp: Did you find him?
Me: No. Gonna drive around the property and look for him.
Climbing behind the wheel of the side-by-side again, I take off on gravel road until I reach the front gate. Fuck, he’s not anywhere on this side.
I check my phone again, hoping for a miracle, but just find a response from Tripp.
Tripp: I’m gonna check down by the creek behind the cabins. Let me know if you find him.
Looking everywhere I can think of, I come up empty every time.
The ranch is a lot of land. There’s a lot of places a young boy could hide…
But why? As I’m making my way back to the house to check there again, I get a text from Hollis, saying that he, August, and Finn are out looking too.
I don’t know how much time passes, but my stomach fills with lead with each place I look and don’t find him.
I need to call Remington. Need to tell him that the boy he trusted me with is missing.
Fuck.
Where the hell is he? And why would he run off? I don’t understand.
Unlocking the phone, I call Remington, hoping he’s not out responding to a call. My heart is in my throat as it rings. Thankfully, he picks up before it goes to voicemail.
“Hey, everythin’ okay?” he asks.
“I’m sure everythin’ is okay, but Lukas is…missin’.”
“What? What happened?”
As quickly as I can, I explain everything to Remington. Nausea churns in my gut, and my lungs refuse to expand enough for me to breathe.
“I’ll be right there,” he says once I finish.
“Remington, I’m so sorry—”
“Hey, don’t,” he cuts in. “It’s not your fault. I’ll be right there.”
Hanging up, I don’t stop looking. I have to find him. There’s no other option. He’s here somewhere.
Lukas, where the hell are you hiding?