Chapter 4 Jesse
FOUR
JESSE
It’s fucking dusty today. We need rain in a bad way, which is why I have the guys going to check fences. I’m afraid some of the old posts will dry rot, and then we’ll be chasing cattle, while potentially losing money.
I take my job as Truett’s right-hand man seriously. We’ve been doing this together since our parents died, and we’ve had to do a good portion of it by the skin of our teeth. There were no life insurance policies, and we had siblings to take care of.
No matter what that meant.
I push the bandana up higher over my nose to keep the dust from choking me, and press my knees against my horse, urging it to go faster. Within minutes, I’m cresting a hill and see my brother, along with a few other men, doing what I asked.
“How’s everything lookin’ up here?” I ask when I get close enough for them to be able to hear me.
Carson nods toward two obviously brand-new posts. “Couple need replacing. We can hold off on most of ’em, though.”
“Sounds good.” I motion for him to follow me as I ride my horse over to the side so that we can have a private conversation.
“What’s up?” he questions.
I glance back at the other men, making sure they’re still focused on their work, before turning my attention back to Carson.
The afternoon sun beats down mercilessly, and I can feel sweat mixing with dust under my shirt.
This conversation needs to happen now, while we have the cover of legitimate ranch work.
“We got business tonight,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Devlin’s expecting us at the usual spot around midnight.” I mention our oldest brother.
Carson’s jaw tightens, and he shifts in his saddle. “What kind of business?”
“The kind that keeps food on the table and this ranch running.” I pull out a worn piece of paper from my shirt pocket, unfolding it carefully. “There’s a shipment coming through on the old county road. Easy pickup, minimal risk.”
My brother studies the crude map I’ve sketched, his green eyes, so similar to mine, narrowing as he takes in the details. “How minimal are we talking?”
“Single driver, no escort. Devlin’s got inside information that it’s carrying enough to cover our expenses for the next three months.” I fold the paper back up, tucking it away. “We’ll be in and out before anyone knows what happened.”
Carson rubs his beard, a nervous habit he’s had since we were teenagers. “And Truett?”
“Truett stays home.” The words come out harder than I intended.
“He’s got Aubree to think about now. Can’t risk her getting suspicious or, worse, getting involved.
That’s what Devlin’s there for.” Many would say that he should’ve been the one to take control of the family, but the truth is, I’ve always been the strongest of the bunch.
“She’s not stupid, Jesse. She’s gonna notice if we start acting different.”
I know he’s right. Aubree always was too observant for her own good, even as a kid. Those deep brown eyes of hers see everything, file it away, piece it together like some kind of puzzle. It’s part of what makes her so damn appealing and so damn dangerous to what we do.
“That’s why we keep things normal for the next week or so,” I explain. “We do our regular work, act like nothing’s changed. Tonight’s job gets done quietly and clean. Nobody gets hurt, nobody traces anything back to us.”
The wind picks up, sending another cloud of dust swirling around us. I pull my bandana back up, watching as the other men continue their work on the fence line. From a distance, we probably look like two brothers discussing ranch business. Nothing suspicious about that.
“What about the other guys?” Carson nods toward the workers. “They gonna ask questions if we disappear tonight?”
“Already handled. Told them we’re riding out early to check the south pasture. They’ll think we’re just being thorough.” I pause, letting the lie settle. “Far as anyone knows, we’re just doing our jobs.”
Carson’s horse shifts restlessly beneath him, picking up on his rider’s tension. “This is getting risky, Jesse. We’ve been lucky for years, but eventually luck runs out.”
“You think I don’t know that?” The words snap out before I can stop them.
I take a breath, forcing myself to calm down.
Carson’s just being cautious, which is smart.
“Look, I know it’s dangerous. But what choice do we have?
The ranch barely breaks even on good years, and this hasn’t been a good year. ”
“There’re always choices.”
“Yeah? Like what? Sell the land our parents died trying to keep? We all know that wreck was more than a drunk driver who crossed the yellow line. Let the bank take everything they worked for?” I shake my head. “Not happening. Not while I’m still breathing.”
The silence stretches between us, filled only by the sound of hammers on fence posts and the distant lowing of cattle.
Carson knows I’m right, even if he doesn’t like it.
We’ve had this conversation before, in different variations, but it always comes back to the same thing: we do what we have to do to survive.
“Tell me about tonight,” he says finally.
I outline the plan, keeping my voice low and my eyes on the horizon.
The shipment will be traveling light, just a single truck with unbranded cattle, which makes them easier to steal.
We’ll intercept it at the old bridge where the county road crosses Miller’s Creek.
It’s isolated, far from any houses or main roads. Perfect for our purposes.
“We’ll need masks,” I continue. “And Carson? No names. Even if something goes wrong, even if we get separated, no names.”
He nods grimly. “Understood.”
“Devlin’s handling the disposal of the truck and trailer. We take the cattle and put them in our trailer. By morning, we’re just two cowboys who spent the night checking cattle.”
The plan is solid, as solid as these things ever are. But there’s always that element of unpredictability, that moment when everything can go sideways. I’ve learned to live with that fear, to push it down and focus on what needs to be done.
“What about weapons?” Carson asks.
“Just sidearms. This isn’t supposed to be violent. We want them scared, not dead.” I pause, meeting his eyes. “But if things go bad…”
“I know.”
Of course he knows. We’ve been down this road before, more times than I care to count. Sometimes I wonder what our parents would think if they could see us now. Would they understand? Would they hate what we’ve become?
I shake off those thoughts. No point in dwelling on ghosts and regrets. The dead don’t have to worry about keeping the lights on or putting food on the table. The living do.
“We meet at the old barn at eleven,” I tell him. “That gives us time to get in position without rushing.”
Carson nods, then glances back at the other workers. “Should we head back? They’ll start wondering if we disappear for too long.”
“Yeah.” I gather my reins, preparing to rejoin the group. “Carson?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember what I said about Aubree. She can’t know about this. About any of it. That’s important to me and Truett.”
His expression darkens. “You really think she’d turn us in?”
“I think she’s got a conscience. And sometimes that’s more dangerous than any enemy.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. “She cares about right and wrong in a way we can’t afford to anymore.”
“She cares about us too.”
“I know. That’s what makes it complicated.”
We ride back to rejoin the work crew, falling into the familiar rhythm of ranch life. But underneath the normalcy, I can feel the tension coiling in my chest. Tonight will either solve our problems for the next few months or create new ones we can’t imagine.
As the afternoon wears on, I find myself thinking about Aubree more than I should. The way she looked when I had her pressed up against the wall. The way her honey-blonde hair caught the light when she turned her head. The way her lips curved when she smiled.
She’s dangerous to our operation, but she’s also the reason I keep doing this. Her, and Truett, and the legacy our parents left behind. Everything I do, every risk I take—it’s all for family.
Even if they never know the full price I’m willing to pay.
The sun starts its descent toward the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and red. In a few hours, Carson, Devlin, and I will be riding out into the darkness, putting everything on the line once again. But right now, in this moment, we’re just cowboys fixing a fence on a dusty ranch.
Sometimes, the lie is easier to live with than the truth.