I want to tell him that Seth is seated right next to me, but I don’t. “I’ll tell him you checked in,” I say.
“Later.”
The line goes dead.
I lower the phone and take a deep breath.
Seth raises an eyebrow. “How mad is he?”
“Nine out of ten,” I say. “He saw the news. Tripp Hollister is already running his mouth about the rodeo.”
Seth sighs, rubbing his temples. “Of course he is. I’ll call Grant.”
“He wanted to talk to Billy.”
“What did you tell him?”
“That Billy was resting.”
Seth nods. “Good. He doesn’t need to know about… that. Not yet.”
I look toward the bunkhouse again. The curtains are still drawn.
“He’s going to find out eventually,” I say.
“I know,” Seth says. “But let’s get through today first. Let’s make sure the cattle don’t die. Let’s make sure Sedona doesn’t die.”
The bluntness of his words hits me.
Let’s make sure Sedona doesn’t die.
It’s a real possibility. The fever. The parasite. It’s targeting her. It’s tearing through her Omega biology.
And there isn’t a damn thing we can do about it.
I stand up. I brush off my jeans. The cocoa is cold. I set it on the railing.
“I’m going to check the south fence,” I say. “Storm might have knocked it loose.”
“I’ll come with you,” Seth says.
We walk down the porch steps together. The mud sucks at our boots. The morning sun is weak, struggling through the clouds.
We walk in silence, side by side. Brothers. Pack.
I think about Joey, three hours away, angry and helpless. I think about Billy, lying next to the woman he loves and hates in equal measure. I think about Seth, carrying a secret that mirrors my own.
And I think about her.
Sedona.
The girl who ruined us. The girl who saved us. The girl who has no idea that she holds the hearts of three brothers in her hands, and is crushing them all without even knowing it.
I kick a rock. It skids across the wet grass.
“He’d better not screw it up this time,” I mutter.
“Who?” Seth asks.
