Chapter 31 Seth
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Seth
I step out of the command tent, the canvas flaps swinging shut behind me. The air is cooler now, the sun dipping low enough to turn the quarantine tape into slashes of burning copper against the grass.
Tex is beside me, his boots crunching on the gravel.
We find Joey by the water trough. He’s leaning against the fence, a cigarette dangling from his lips, the smoke curling up into the still air.
He looks like a stranger. The rodeo has hardened him, stripped the boyishness from his face and left behind something sharper. Angrier.
He flicks ash onto the ground. He doesn’t look at us.
“Where’s Billy?” Tex asks. He scans the yard, his jaw tight. “Did anyone see where he went?”
“I saw him heading toward the creek,” I say. It’s a guess, but an educated one. Billy runs when he can’t fight. He goes to water. “Probably drowning himself in the shallows.”
“Coward,” Joey mutters.
Tex stiffens. “He’s handling it.”
“He’s hiding,” Joey corrects. He turns to look at us, his eyes dark. “Just like he always does when it comes to her. He lets her walk all over him, and then he runs off to sulk.”
I feel the familiar prickle of irritation under my skin.
I’ve spent my whole life mediating between these two. I’ve spent my whole life making excuses for Joey’s temper and Billy’s silence.
But today, the excuse won’t come.
“Shut up, Joey,” I say.
He blinks. He seems surprised that I spoke. I’m the quiet one. The reasonable one. I’m not supposed to tell people to shut up.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I step closer. The smell of his cigarette is acrid. “You don’t get to come back here after being gone for months, not answering calls, not checking in, and start judging how we handle things.”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” he snaps.
“Yeah. You’re here to yell. To break things. To insult the woman who is trying to help us.”
“The woman who broke this family,” Joey corrects. He pushes off the fence. He towers over me, using his height the way he always does. Intimidation. “You’ve all forgotten. You’ve all gone soft because she came back with her tail between her legs, crying about her daddy.”
I hold my ground. I don’t step back.
“She left because she wanted more,” I say. The words are steady. “She wanted a life outside of this ranch. She wanted to be a vet, not just a wife. And you know what? That takes guts.”
“And who told you that? Her?” he asks.
“Billy did,” Tex says softly.
Joey scoffs. “It took cowardice.”
“No,” I say. “It took ambition. And you know what else? You’re doing the exact same thing.”
Joey freezes. The smoke from his cigarette drifts between us, a gray ribbon.
“What did you say?”
“You left,” I say. I don’t stop. I’m on a roll now. The truth is pouring out, ugly and raw. “You travel the circuit. You’re barely home. You’re looking for something better, Joey. You’re chasing a high that isn’t this ranch. You want to be a champion, not a rancher. You want more.”
I step into his space.
“You’re just like her,” I say. “The only difference is she had the courage to admit it.”
The silence stretches. It’s heavy. Dangerous.
Joey’s face twists. He looks at me like he’s never seen me before.
“I can’t believe you,” he says. “You’re defending her? After everything she did to Billy?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you are,” Joey sneers. He shakes his head. “You always were spineless, Seth. You always just went along with whatever Billy wanted. Whatever Tex wanted. You’re the doormat of this family.”
I feel the sting of it, but I don’t let it show.
“Don’t talk to him like that,” Tex says. He steps up beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. “Seth has done more for this ranch in the last year than you have in five. He’s held us together while you were out playing cowboy.”
“Playing cowboy?” Joey laughs harshly. “I’m making a career. I’m making money.”
“And ignoring your brothers,” Tex counters. “Ignoring the fact that we were drowning in work and trying to keep this place afloat. Seth was here. I was here. You were gone.”
Joey looks between us. He sees the united front. He sees that his usual tactics—divide and conquer—aren’t working.
And then, his eyes narrow. He looks at Tex. Then at me. He sees something in our faces. A tension we haven’t hidden well enough.
“Wait,” he says. He drops his cigarette, grinding it into the dirt with his boot. He points a finger at me. “You’re not just defending her because you’re a good brother, are you?”
My stomach drops.
“You’ve got a hard-on for her too,” Joey says. It’s not a question.
I don’t answer. I don’t have to.
Joey turns to Tex. “And you? You too?”
Tex’s jaw ticks. He looks away.
Joey bursts out laughing. It’s a hysterical, incredulous sound. He slaps his thigh.
“Are you kidding me?” he shouts. “All three of you? You’re all panting after the same girl?”
He looks at us with pure disgust.
“You’re pathetic,” he spits. “All of you. Billy’s a mess, and you two are just waiting in the wings like vultures. I never should have come back to this town. I never should have come home.”
“You didn’t have to,” Tex says.
“I know,” Joey says. “And I won’t make that mistake again.”
He turns to walk away. And then he pauses.
He’s looking past us. Toward the bunkhouse.
I turn around, and my heart stops.
Standing a few yards away, near the corner of the barn, are two figures.
Sedona. And Billy.
They’re frozen. Sedona’s face is pale, her eyes wide. She has her arms wrapped around herself.
Billy is standing in front of her, but he’s not looking at Joey. He’s looking at me.
He heard it. He heard everything.
You’ve got a hard-on for her too.
The secret I’ve kept for five years—the secret I thought I had buried so deep no one would find it—is out.
Billy knows. Sedona knows.
Billy’s looks at me, and then at Tex. He sees the guilt. He sees the longing we can’t hide.
His expression shifts. It’s not anger. It’s worse. It’s resignation.
He looks tired.
“Billy…” I start to say.
But I can’t finish. I don’t know what to say.
Joey sees them too. He scoffs again, shaking his head.
“Perfect,” he mutters. “Just fucking perfect.”
He pushes past us, heading for his truck. He’s leaving. Again.
I watch him go. But I can’t look at Billy. I can’t look at Sedona.
I turn on my heel.
“Where are you going?” Tex asks.
“To check the calves,” I say.
I walk away. I head for the north pasture, where the isolation pens are. I need to get away from this. I need to work. I need to bury my hands in something real because my emotions are a disaster I can’t clean up.
Jasper is there, sitting on a hay bale, his camera in his lap. He looks up as I approach.
“Hey, Seth,” he says. He sounds nervous. “I… I got some good shots earlier. If you want to see.”
“Not now, Jasper,” I say.
I grab a pitchfork. I start mucking the stall. I move with a frantic energy, stabbing the hay, throwing it into the pile.
The sweat starts to roll down my back. My muscles burn.
I hear footsteps behind me. Tex.
He doesn’t speak. He just grabs a shovel and starts scooping the soiled bedding into a wheelbarrow.
We work in silence. The only sounds are the scrape of metal and the low breathing of the calves.
Twenty minutes pass.
More footsteps.
I don’t have to turn around to know who it is. I can smell him. The pine smoke. The leather.
The Alpha scent that has always meant safety, and now means exposure.
Billy joins us. He doesn’t say anything about the conversation. He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t punch me.
He just grabs a brush and starts grooming one of the heifers.
We work. The three of us. Side by side.
The silence is heavy, but it’s not hostile. It’s the silence of men who have been brothers for too long to let a fight—no matter how big—tear them apart permanently.
We are pack. We are blood. We are stuck with each other.
I focus on the motion. Lift. Toss. Lift. Toss.
My mind races. What happens now? Does Billy hate me? Does Sedona think I’m a creep?
I don’t know. I can’t think about it. If I do, I’ll spiral.
So I work until my arms shake.
The sun sets. The sky turns a deep, bruised purple.
“Seth. Tex. Billy.”
I stop. I lean on the pitchfork, wiping the sweat from my forehead.
Dr. Petrova and Dr. Miles are standing at the gate of the pen. They’re out of their hazmat suits, wearing jeans and jackets. They look tired but determined.
Dr. Miles is holding a clipboard. His face is serious.
“We need to talk,” he says.
Billy drops the brush. He walks over. Tex and I follow.
“Is it bad?” Billy asks.
“No,” Dr. Petrova says. “Actually, it’s good. We have the results.”
I hold my breath.
Dr. Miles looks down at his notes. “We’ve been coordinating with the CDC lab in Austin and our team here. We ran a full panel on the deceased calf, the live cattle, and the human blood samples we took today.”
“And?” Tex prompts.
“The calf,” Dr. Morales says. “The one that died yesterday. It wasn’t the parasite that killed it.”
I blink. “What?”
“It was a secondary infection,” he explains. “Bovine viral diarrhea. BVD. The calf hadn’t been vaccinated for it. The stress of the separation and the parasite exposure compromised its immune system, allowing the virus to take hold. It was a complication, not the primary cause.”
“But the parasite…” Billy says.
“Is present,” Dr. Petrova says. “In all of you. The cattle, the brothers, Sedona, Clara. You are all carriers.”
My stomach sinks.
“However,” Dr. Miles continues, “we have identified the strain. It’s a protozoan parasite. It’s aggressive, but it’s not the mystery illness we feared.”
He taps the clipboard.
“The breakthrough came from Dr. Archer’s bloodwork,” he says.
My head snaps up. “Sedona?”
“Yes,” Dr. Petrova says. “She’s taking a course of antiviral medication. Immune boosters. We noticed that her viral load was significantly lower than the others. The parasite was present, but it was dormant. Inactive.”
“Because of her meds?” Billy asks.
“Precisely,” Dr. Miles says. “The antivirals she was prescribed for her immune system inadvertently attacked the parasite’s life cycle. It suppressed it.”
“So…” I say, hope starting to bubble in my chest. “So she’s not dying?”
“No,” Dr. Petrova says. “She is fighting it off. Effectively.”
“And us?” Tex asks. “The cattle?”
“We have developed a treatment protocol,” Dr. Miles says. “Based on the compound in Dr. Archer’s medication. It’s a targeted antiviral therapy. We can administer it to the herd immediately. And to the humans.”
“Is it a cure?” Billy asks.
“It’s a treatment,” Dr. Petrova says. “But yes. If we start the regimen tonight, the parasite should be eradicated from the system within seventy-two hours. You will all be cleared.”
The air rushes back into my lungs.
“Three days?” I ask.
“Three days,” Dr. Miles confirms. “No more quarantine. No more risk of transmission. The cattle will recover. The ranch will be safe.”
Tex slumps against the fence. He covers his face with his hands.
“Thank god,” he mutters.
Billy nods. He looks relieved, but his face is still tight.
“And Sedona?” he asks. “She’s okay?”
“Dr. Archer is stable,” Dr. Petrova says. “Her fever is down. She will need rest, but she will make a full recovery.”
Billy closes his eyes for a second. He sways on his feet.
I watch him. I see the weight lifting off his shoulders. The fear that has been crushing him for two days—fear for her, fear for the ranch—is finally easing.
“Thank you,” Billy says. He reaches out and shakes Dr. Miles’s hand. “Thank you.”
“We’ll get the supplies,” Dr. Miles says. “I’ll have Maggie bring the first round of injections to the house in an hour.”
The doctors turn and walk back toward the tents.
We stand there. The three of us. The night is settling in around us, the crickets starting to sing.
“So,” Tex says. He drops his hands. He looks at Billy, then at me. “We’re gonna live.”
“Looks like it,” I say.
Billy runs a hand through his hair. He lets out a rough laugh. It’s a sound of pure exhaustion.
“I need a drink,” he says.
“Maggie said no alcohol,” Tex reminds him.
“Maggie isn’t here,” Billy says. “And I just found out my ranch isn’t going to die. I’m having a beer.”
He turns and starts walking toward the house. He pauses after a few steps.
He looks back at me.
“Seth.”
I tense. “Yeah?”
Billy looks at the ground. He kicks a clod of dirt.
“I know,” he says simply.
My throat tightens. “Billy…”
“I know,” he repeats. “About you. About Tex.”
He looks up. His eyes meet mine. They are sad, but they aren’t angry.
“I’ve known for a long time,” he says.
I stare at him. “You did?”
“You think I’m blind?” He scoffs softly. “I’m an Alpha. I smell it on you. I see the way you look at her. I always have.”
He looks away.
“It’s why I never asked you to be my best man,” he says. “When I was planning to propose. I couldn’t ask you to stand there and watch me marry the woman you loved.”
I don’t know what to say. I feel exposed. Stripped bare.
“Billy, I never would have—”
“I know,” Billy cuts me off. “I know you wouldn’t. You’re too good of a brother. That’s the problem.”
He looks at Tex.
“You too. You’re loyal to a fault. You would have buried it. But I couldn’t do that to you.”
He turns back toward the house.
“It doesn’t matter now anyway,” he says over his shoulder. “She’s gone. She’s sick. And I’m just the guy trying to keep the ranch from falling apart.”
He starts walking again.
“But Seth?” he calls back.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t hide from me,” he says. “And don’t apologize. It is what it is.”
He disappears into the darkness.
Tex lets out a low whistle. “Well. That was…”
“Yeah,” I say.
I feel lighter. And heavier at the same time. The secret’s out. Billy knows. He doesn’t hate me. He just… accepts it.
It hurts in a different way now. The denial is gone. The pretense is over.
I look at the bunkhouse. The light is on in the window.
She’s in there. She’s going to be okay.
That’s what matters.