Chapter 23
cade
The sun’s sharp as a branding iron, warming the dirt pens and throwing long shadows from the pipe rails. The cattle shift restless in the chute, bawls echoing, metal clanging.
Sarah has been diligent about taking care of my cattle now that Bodie is out of commission. She looks good—glossy magazine cover good.
Dark jeans tucked into scuffed boots, sleeves rolled up, a braid swinging forward like a lariat.
“Well?” I ask as she crouches by the old feed we set aside as per her instruction in the storage room, sifting through the pellets with her fingers.
She lifts a handful, crumbles some between her gloved thumb and forefinger. “This is how the poison entered their bloodstream.” She straightens, her lips pressing into a tight line. “Like I said, Cade. The lab confirmed monensin. At toxic levels. We’re lucky you caught it early.”
Dodge leans against a wall in the room, chewing his damn toothpick like this is just another Tuesday, but his eyes flash with anger.
“And I’m confident that it was deliberate,” Sarah adds. “Monensin doesn’t just wander into feed. Someone added it.”
A storm of anger breaks inside me. “You think someone is trying to hurt my cattle?”
She looks at me, her expression cold and unreadable. “Yes.”
“Fuck!”
She hands me her phone. “Here’s the data I received.”
I squint at the numbers on the screen. They don’t mean much to me at first—just rows and decimals, but as I go through them, it starts to make sense.
Normal feed contamination, if it ever happens, might show trace levels. One, maybe two parts per million.
“Thunder’s ration tested at over forty ppm,” I read out aloud. “The herd sat around eight to ten ppm.”
Dodge ambles up to us, and I hand him the phone. He looks at the data, and the blood drains from his face. “That’s off the fuckin’ charts.”
Sarah dusts her hands on her jeans. “That amount could’ve killed him outright if he’d eaten more. The rest of the herd, as you noted, got enough monensin to make them sick, but not enough to drop them. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing, Cade.”
Bile claws up my throat. Someone was aiming to wipe out the best bull I’ve ever bought—my future.
“So”—I hesitate for a moment—“what do we do?”
“What we’ve been doing. You can start with a new batch of feed, but make sure it’s new, comes from a source you trust.”
“I bought my old feed from someone I trust as well,” I clip.
She strides out of the storage room. I trail her across the meadow to Thunder. His dark hide ripples in the sun, and damn if he doesn’t already look stronger than he did a day ago.
“That’s it?” I demand uneasily. “Keep doing what we are?”
She leans against the fence as she watches Thunder.
“We’ll keep a close eye on the bulls, especially Thunder.
His heart rate was elevated before—monensin targets the heart muscle.
I’ll run another exam and check vitals twice daily for the next week.
Electrolytes in the water will help, and more activated charcoal to bind whatever’s left in their system. ”
“And that’ll do it?” Dodge muses.
“There’s no antidote to monensin toxicity. Once it damages the heart and muscles, that damage can be irreversible.”
I close my eyes, my hands on my waist, my shoulders slumped. “You think his heart was damaged?”
“I don’t know. All we can do is remove exposure. If anyone staggers or spikes, you call me.”
“For God’s sake, Dove, he’s the future of Blue Rock. Give me a straight answer,” I yell, exasperated.
She doesn’t respond to my burst of emotion, but her expression softens slightly. “I am…cautiously optimistic. Fast rebound means a small dose. But we will monitor. I can mitigate the damage, prevent further exposure, and keep them alive through the critical period, but I can’t cure.”
Dodge hands her phone back. “How long do you think the feed’s been tampered with?”
She slips the phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “From the samples, I’d guess no more than a day’s worth was contaminated.” Her gaze cuts to Thunder, sharp as a scalpel. “Otherwise, you’d already have a graveyard out here.”
Dodge links his hands behind his neck and looks up at the sky. “Fuckin’ hell. Who the fuck could do this?”
Someone deliberately tried to poison my herd. Before I think better, it’s out of me. “The only person I can think of who hates me enough to hurt my cattle is you, Sarah.”
Her head snaps up. Green eyes flashing like a struck match.
“The fuck, boss?” Even Dodge is stunned at my words, and he doesn’t shock easily.
Sarah gets in my face and pokes my chest with a finger. “How dare you?” she hisses. “I’ve given my life to healing animals.” Poke. “You think I’d throw that away poisoning yours?” Poke. Poke. “Use your head, for the love of God.”
I blow out a long breath, shame burning hotter than the sun.
The truth is that thanks to Sarah, Thunder is eating better, and his ears are perkier. I owe his life to her and yet….
“I…I’m sorry. It was a knee-jerk—”
“No. It was cruel.” The look she gives me could light a fuse. “When did you become such a mean and vile person?” Poke. Poke. Poke. “When did you learn to say such horrible things to someone who has been working day and night to save your Goddamn ranch?”
I grab her finger and then hold her hand in mine. “I’m sorry, Dove.”
She doesn’t soften, but something flickers across her face, quick as a shadow.
The chute rattles as Thunder stomps. Hypervigilant as we are, all three of us turn to my Angus.
Sarah opens the gate and goes inside. I’m about to stop her, but then I see how Thunder reacts to her.
“Easy, big guy,” she croons low.
Her palm rubs his neck in slow circles, and the bull exhales, deep and heavy, settling like she just flipped a switch inside him.
I swallow hard. I’ve seen men damn near trampled trying to settle a bull like Thunder. She does it with a whisper and her hand.
He’s like Evie and Bandit. They’re both in love with her.
Like you are, too, Cade.
“She’s somethin’ else,” Dodge murmurs. “I think I might ask her to marry me.”
“Fuck off.”
He chuckles. “She’s single, boss. And so am I.”
I know he’s rattling my cage, but I still take the bait. I can’t help the surge of possessiveness that runs through me. “Shut the fuck up, Dodge.”
“I’d be on my knees for a woman like—”
“You wanna carry your teeth in your pocket or wear them?” I snarl.
He laughs, which draws Sarah’s attention. She smiles at my foreman, and my heart twists. Seriously, it does this horrible thing that hurts like a motherfucker.
“She’s mine,” I tell Dodge in a low voice.
He quirks an eyebrow. “I see no ring on her finger, boss.”
Before I physically assault my foreman, I hear Evie’s screech, “Dr. K.”
Sarah steps out of Thunder’s enclosure just as my kid launches herself at her. Sarah catches her and hugs her tight. Bandit follows Evie, barking around Sarah’s legs.
She loves Evie. I can see it on her face. She looks at my daughter like she used to look at me.
“Hey, Bandit.” Sarah pets the dog. “How are you doing, buddy?”
The dog barks like he understands her.
“Daddy said you saved Thunder.” Evie’s eyes are as round as silver dollars. “He said you gave him…uh…special food and medicine so he’s not sick no more.”
Sarah looks at me, stupefied that I talked about her with Evie and that, too, positively.
No one’s more surprised than me.
I thought I’d never be able to look at her without feeling acid churn in my gut. But now, all I see is my Dove—and I can’t square that with the hate I carried for so many years.
She was right to ask what happened to me. When did I turn cruel?
You were a kid back then, Cade. What’s your excuse now?
Evie talks a mile a minute while Bandit circles them, giddy that two of his favorite people in the world are with him. I feel a little like Bandit myself.
“You want to come see my room, Dr. K? I have a bed for Bandit.” She drops her voice to a whisper. “But he sleeps in my bed…Daddy doesn’t know, so don’t tell him.”
Dodge smirks.
“Evie, you gotta get back home to Tillie. Dodge and I have to get to the south fence,” I interject, hoping to distract Evie from her invitation—one I know Sarah can’t accept.
“But….” My daughter gives me that puppy-dog look she knows I can’t resist. “Can’t I hang here with Dr. K?”
Well, kid, I’d like to hang with her, too, but she may not want my company.
I look expectantly at Sarah. “Will that be okay?”
Again, she looks like I asked her if she’d like to play with my baby unicorn. “Ah…sure. Of course. I’m just going to check on the others and…yes…she can hang with me.”
She’s flustered. I like it.
“Thanks. Sarah.” I crouch down in front of Evie. “You be good for Dr. K.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She hugs me, and it’s the best feeling in the world.
As I straighten, Sarah glances up. Her eyes are clear for the first time since she came back to Wildflower Canyon—no pain, no accusation, no past.
“Can you make sure to hand her over to Tillie after you’re done?” I request.
“Yes,” she breathes.
Her braid slips forward, catching the sunlight, and I have to look away as grief crawls under my ribs and sits there. I’ve been an asshole to her, and she’s got no problem babysitting my daughter. It rattles me worse than any stampede.
Before I say something stupid, I turn and am about to walk to the stables with Dodge when I hear the sound of tires on caliche.
A black SUV rolls slowly up the drive, shiny as a damn mirror.
My heart kicks hard against bone.
The dust hasn’t even settled before Landon steps out, polished boots, pressed sport coat, and a smile cut sharp as glass.
“Hey, Tillie mentioned you were out here so….” He trails off when he sees Sarah.
Sarah goes pale as chalk. For all her steel, she looks like she’s just been kicked in the solar plexus. Landon sees her, too. For a heartbeat, that slick politician mask cracks. His eyes flare wide and dark before he schools them back into a charming expression.
But I catch it. The way he froze. The way she froze.
My stomach knots. I go cold.