Chapter one
Ranch Chaos and One Hell of a Surprise
Jace
The steer breaks hard left before I can cut him off, hooves tearing up dust as he slams through a weak spot in the line like he’s been waiting all morning to make a run for it.
I lean into the saddle and drive my heels in, pushing my horse forward as the rest of the herd shifts with that low, restless rumble that means chaos is about to take over if we don’t get control back fast.
“Jace, head him off,” My brother Wade calls, his voice sharp and already edged with irritation as he swings wide to keep the rest from following. I pull out my rope. Swing it up high and throw it.
“I’ve got him,” I shoot back, though the damn animal has more fight in him than I expected.
The fence line ahead dips where the ground’s soft from last week’s rain, and I can already see where the posts have started to lean. Figures. One weak spot and the whole system starts unraveling, same as always.
I angle my horse, cutting across the steer’s path, and he snorts, tossing his head like he’s deciding whether to charge me or bolt again. For a second, it’s just the two of us, dust hanging thick in the air, the sound of the herd fading behind me while everything narrows down to instinct and timing.
“Easy,” I mutter, more to myself than him, shifting my weight and guiding my horse in closer.
The steer jukes right at the last second, but I’m ready for it, swinging him back toward the herd with a quick, controlled push that finally breaks his momentum. He slows, grudging and pissed off, but he slows, and that’s all I need.
By the time I turn him back in, My other brother Luke’s already there, calm as ever, easing the pressure on the herd so they settle instead of scatter.
“Fence is worse than it looked,” Luke says, his tone steady, like we aren’t one wrong move away from chasing cattle across half the county.
“No kidding,” I reply, dragging my hat down tighter against the sun as I circle back.
Brooks, my other brother, rides up a second later, his eyes already scanning the line, calculating, always three steps ahead of the rest of us. “We’ll need to reset those posts and reinforce the corner before we move the rest through. If that gives again, we’re gonna lose more than one.”
Wade huffs out a breath, wiping his forearm across his brow. “I’ll grab the tools. Jace, you stay on that side. Last thing we need is another one breaking loose.”
I nod, shifting my horse into position, watching the herd as they settle back into a slow, uneasy rhythm. The noise dies down to the usual sounds, hooves shifting, low calls, the creak of leather and saddle as we all fall back into place like we’ve been doing this our whole lives.
Because we have.
This ranch, this land, this constant push and pull of keeping everything running, it’s always been ours.
I glance out toward the far edge of the property where the Miller land stretches wide and open.
I can picture it without trying. A house set back just enough from the road. Something solid. Something that doesn’t feel temporary.
Something mine.
It’s a strange kind of weight, that thought, settling in where I’m used to nothing sticking for long.
But lately, that itch feels different.
Less like freedom. More like running.
“You planning on daydreaming all afternoon or you gonna help fix this mess?” Wade’s voice cuts through my thoughts, dragging me back.
I let out a quiet breath and shake my head. “Yeah, I’m right here.”
I slide off my horse, boots hitting the ground as I move toward the sagging fence line, grabbing a post and testing it. It shifts too easy, the wood loose in the dirt, and I already know Brooks is right. This isn’t a quick fix.
Nothing worth doing ever is.
We work in rhythm after that, no wasted motion, no extra words. Wade brings the tools, Luke steadies the line, Brooks directs where the new supports need to go, and I drive the post back into place with controlled force, each strike grounding in a way I don’t question.
