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Charlie was my mission.
I wasn’t putting my brother in the fucking ground. Not another one. Not my blood.
If I couldn’t protect my brothers overseas, I damn sure planned to protect my brother at home.
A responsibility my father passed to me. A responsibility I take as seriously as my life.
“Friends are family, but family is forever,” he said to me the day our youngest brother, Grady, was born. “Protect those babies.”
I took my father’s words to heart.
Especially last year.
I thought we settled the mess with Valiante. But early last fall, he came back to the ranch. I caught him at Charlie’s cabin, looking for Ruby.
Valiante wasn’t getting another chance to hurt someone I loved.
I put a bullet in his brain. Buried him on the far side of the property near Crybaby Falls.
Unlike dogs, black and white doesn’t work in Montana. And it doesn’t fly on the ranch. We do what we need to do to survive. That includes attacking first.
Men like Valiante can never be trusted. They always come back.
And when they come for my family, they don’t get a second chance.
Answering to the man upstairs for what I’ve done doesn’t worry me. What worries me is answering to myself for what I don’t do. No sympathy. No remorse. Not for anyone who touches my family.
“Who says we can’t charge extra to take ’em out to see the Grunkle?” Wyatt’s languid drawl pulls me from my daze.
It takes me a second to realize he’s talking about the endangered bird Stede McGraw invented to give the ranch protected status.
I rub my temple. “Can’t charge guests for a bird that doesn’t exist.”
Wyatt rolls his eyes. “I don’t know how you can take the most exciting subject and make it boring.”
“Idiot,” Ford says affectionately, cuffing Wyatt on the head. I smirk, watching a scowl darken Wyatt’s face. A big brother’s job is to give our little brothers shit at every opportunity.
Ford gets Wyatt in a headlock. Pinned, Wyatt takes a swing at him, causing Ruby to squeak and jump out of the way.
“C’mon, little brother,” Ford drawls, tightening his hold. “You gotta stay on your toes with that big mouth of yours.”
“No groups near the falls,” I say, holding up my hands to rein in my brothers as they scuffle. Briefly, my hard gaze locks with Charlie’s. “I don’t want guests out in the backcountry unsupervised.”
That’s when I hear it. The slam of the front double doors. Instantly, the conversation hushes. Wyatt uses the distraction to elbow Ford in the stomach and untangle himself.
King of cowboys, Stede McGraw stands in the doorway. Stetson in his hands. Snow on his boots. His hair is scraped back into thin wisps of silver.
The man’s a former bull riding champ and stuntman. As a lifelong local of Resurrection, he was one of the first in town to show me the reins of the ranch before Charlie could take the reins himself.
Blue eyes burning bright, Stede lifts his hat in greeting. “Ruby, honey. Boys.”
I sip my coffee, try my best to keep a smile off my face. Though Ford and I both turned thirty-six in December, we’ll always be kids to Stede McGraw.
“Hey, old man.” I reach for the coffeepot and pour him a full cup. “Good to see you.”
“What’s going on?” Ford asks.
“I’d like to tell you I’m here to welcome these two back to town.” Stede nods at Ruby and Charlie, takes a step closer to the bar. “But hell, I’m afraid my intentions aren’t that noble.”
