Chapter 7
seven
Trouble
By the next evening, after wrapping up a long day on the ranch, Danger’s already losing his damn mind over something new.
"We're missin' one of our horse trailers,” he yells. "I don't think Rogue locked it down. Noticed it was gone this mornin'."
Heat crawls up my neck. I shove my hat back, then jerk it back down hard.
"Last month it was equipment," I say, thinking about all the shit that has gone missing lately. "Now a trailer?"
Someone was playing a dangerous game, thinkin’ they can just take what's ours without any consequence. Guess we’ll have to remind them why that's a mistake.
"You know exactly who it is," he murmurs, not having to say the words.
"Oh, I fucking know who it is," I drawl, rolling the toothpick to the corner of my mouth. My boots scuff the dirt as I turn to face him. "Let's go get our shit back."
It's in the way Danger nods, the understanding that hardens our expressions. We'll reclaim what's ours, take back our shit, and send them a message they can’t ignore. There's no question in my mind, no doubt about who did this. It's always been a game of cat and mouse with them.
"Heard the Kennedy’s have a family wedding. Whole lotta’ them left town," Danger says with a wink.
"Then I say we have us a little barbeque," I mutter under my breath.
The Kennedy’s ranch was where we’d find our missing trailer.
The rivalry between our families runs deep—all the way back to my great-granddaddy’s first love.
She was the daughter of the original rancher there, but their families eventually tore them apart.
Luckily, he found love again with my great-grandmother.
But ever since, it's been war. One that passed from one generation to the next.
When locals talk horses, they're choosing between our stock and theirs; ours are superior, naturally. But lately, they've been playing dirty, poaching clients… and now, stealing from us outright. They have three men around the same age as me and my brothers, and two younger sisters.
We grew up pulling pranks on the Kennedy kids. It was a simpler time when the feud was playful—harmless, even. But the stakes are higher now, the game more dangerous. And the temptation to strike back, to do to them what they've done to us, is always too tempting to resist.
"I'll let the group know," Danger draws, before he turns and disappears.
I toss a gas can into the bed of my pickup.
The cooler lid creaks as I open it, pack it tight with ice and beer, then heave that in after.
I steer my pickup along the jagged fence line dividing our land from the Kennedys'.
If you add up all the Kennedys, they probably average out to having exactly one brain.
So, naturally, my guess is they've stashed our trailer on their property's far edge, away from any eyes—especially ours.
My grip tightens on the wheel, and I squint past the trees and fields of the Kennedy expanse.
I drive on for a few minutes. And there it is—a white barn off by itself in the distance.
I roll to a stop and kill the engine. Resting my arm on the open window, I take in the barn's dated wood, the way that a brand new lock strangely stands out against the age of everything else.
After a quick look around, I head to my truck bed and grab a crowbar.
One solid swing shatters the lock. I kick the door open and slip inside.
Taking a quick glance around, my fingers fumble for the phone in my pocket.
"Charming," I say. "Trailer's here. It’s the white barn on the far end of their property. I'll swing the back door open so you can back your truck in and pull it out."
I gather up a few tools and anything that looks useful since they probably took more shit than we know about. They clatter softly as I nestle them in the back of my truck.
Charming's truck eases up beside mine, his window slowly rolls down, and all my brothers are inside.
"How'd you know it was in this barn?" Danger asks from the passenger seat.
"Just went with my gut,” I say as I lean against the side of my truck, feelin’ the corner of my mouth hitch up in a half-smirk. “Figured they’d try to keep it hidden somewhere we can’t see from our ranch.”
"Good thinkin’." Danger nods. "Rogue and Charming will clear out anything in there that could explode."
Once our trailer is out, I have the satisfaction of trailing a line of gasoline through the barn.
I strike a match then drop it and watch as the fire roars to life, devouring everything in its path.
My brothers lean back and enjoy the show.
The Kennedys should know by now you don’t mess with The Stetsons without expecting a little fire in return.
"Cheers," Danger mutters, his shadow stretching tall beside me. We clink bottles and enjoy the crackle of the fire.
Before long, the low rumble of engines signals the arrival of our friends. They pull up, doors swinging open.
"Perfect night for a fire," one of them hollers over the destruction. We gather in a wide circle, some lounging on truck beds, some caught up in conversation. We pass beers around. The heat of the fire warms our faces, and the coolness of the beer soothes our throats.
"Anyone bring the marshmallows?" Winnie Hawthorne's voice is playful as she plants a kiss on my cheek.
The Hawthornes have been around for years, running the bakery that's as much a part of this town as our ranch.
And Winnie, with her hands forever dusted in flour and her heart too big for her own good, is a regular in our circle.
We've tangled in the sheets more times than I care to admit, but it's never been more than what it was.
I've never sugarcoated anything with her.
She knows more than anyone that I'm not the type to settle down.
Sometimes, when I walk her out after a hookup, or I look over at the empty side of my bed that I never let anyone occupy, I wish that I could love Winnie.
Tried to convince myself, even, because every time I peer into those hopeful eyes of hers, I see the reflection of a dream I'll never fulfill.
It's like I'm staring at a road I'll never travel, knowing it leads to a home that could never be mine.
Winnie's holding out for something that's just not in the cards—cards dealt by a daddy who showed his boys everything but how to properly treat a woman.
I turn just in time to see Knox's truck pull into view, the dust from the road following behind him. He hauls the door open and steps out.
“Heard we were having a little party,” he calls out, a grin splitting his face.
Knox nods at the others, then jerks his chin for me to step aside. I follow, and he leans in, dropping his voice low.
“Hey, man, could you do me a huge favor?”
I raise an eyebrow.
“Since Sawyer’s stayin’ at the guest house on the ranch, could you keep an eye on her? You know how low the Kennedys stoop. I’d feel a hell of a lot better if you could make sure no one messes with her when I’m not around.”
“You don’t even gotta ask. You know I’d ride through fire for you.”
The thought of one of the Kennedys laying a hand on her flashes through my head, and my blood goes nuclear. I could argue with her all damn day but she's safe under my watch. Whether she wants to be or not.
Knox claps me on the shoulder, then fixes me with that older-brother stare. “And listen… I know how you are with women. Don’t even think about goin’ there with her. This is my baby sister we’re talkin’ about.”
“I wouldn’t go there.”
Yeah, she’s the kind of beautiful that causes problems, but she’s also the only woman bold enough to call me out in years. Doesn’t mean I want her. Just means I noticed.
“Appreciate it. Meet me there tonight—I’ll let Sawyer know you’ll be around to keep her safe.”
She’s gonna hate this—hell, she might even despise this plan—but that just makes me wanna do it all the more.
Knox was there for me when my granddaddy passed, got me through it.
I owe him more than he knows, which means I’ll do damn near anything to keep her safe.
Even if she thinks I’m the devil himself.
And I didn’t expect him to bring her, but Sawyer slowly kicks open the side door of Knox’s truck, she’s got a phone on her ear as her heels sink slightly into the field. Guess some lessons take a little longer to learn.
I can almost hear the nag that’s about to come out of her mouth before she says it.
"Why are we here? Is this what you do for fun? Sit around and watch barns burn down?"
I watch as she questions Knox. The city girl—so polished and put-together, like she walked straight out of some rooftop cocktail bar.
She’s outta place here, like she took a wrong turn and accidentally ended up in this small town that runs on ranchers, gossip, and coffee from the local gas station.
The firelight dances in her eyes, casting them in different shades of blue that change with each flicker, giving away some of that curiosity beneath her skepticism.
"Beats the hell outta sitting in silence with you and Daddy," Knox says, under his breath.
"Well, that's because Daddy is stubborn as hell," she shoots back. "And it’s getting worse with age."
Knox's chuckle rolls out, low and knowing as he eyes his sister. "Yeah, well, you're just as stubborn."
Knox pulls his phone out of his pocket and answers a call, and Sawyer heads my way. I grab a beer out of the cooler and with a quick twist, the cap surrenders with a satisfying hiss. Just as the bottle is on the edge of my lips, Sawyer's hand intercepts its path.
"I'll take this," she demands, the beer captured between our fingers for a moment.
"Most women say 'please' around here," I reply with a smirk, letting her take the bottle. I should be pissed. Her taking something that’s mine puts her in the same damn category as The Kennedys… But why does that smirk of hers make me want to pin her against my truck instead?