Page 50 of Branded

17

SEBASTIAN

The barn is lit up like a military operation when I arrive forty minutes before departure.

The second I made the call to go ahead with the raid, my father mobilized every able-bodied ranch hand on the property. Twenty men, maybe more, all checking tack, loading rifles into saddle scabbards, speaking in the low, clipped tones of people preparing for violence.

This is us at our most primitive. No lawyers, no legal channels, no pretense of civilization. Just men protecting what is theirs, the way we’ve been doing for over a century.

Nathaniel stands near Cisco’s stall, already dressed in dark jeans, black shirt, his face grim. He looks up when I approach.

“Are we sure about this?” he asks quietly.

“No. But I’m done being cautious while Thomas Marshall thinks he can retaliate for shit that doesn’t concern him.”

“Dad’s thrilled. First time I’ve seen him this energized in years.” Nathaniel’s jaw tightens. “He misses this. The old ways. When problems were solved with horses and guns instead of phone calls and paperwork.”

“You don’t think this is a good idea?”

“I’m in agreement, but,” he answers as he checks his rifle, “I’ve got two girls that have already lost a mother. I need to come home, Seb.”

“You’ll come home. Stay away from the front, or hang back at the fence line,” I tell him, but I watch his face turn to anger.

“I don’t want to hang back, Seb, don’t you understand? I’m so tired of not being the one to call the shots here. This is my ranch. You left, you’ve got your own fancy life, but this is mine. I should be the one making the calls, but Dad thinks I’m too broken up over Sarah.” He’s pacing now.

I’ve been expecting this outburst, but maybe not on a night like tonight.

“We were getting a divorce, it’s not like I lost the love of my life. Fuck, we only got married because I knocked her up, and Mom forced it. I’m sad for my kids, they won’t know their mother, but fuck, it shouldn’t affect my job.” He runs his hand through his hair and stares at me.

“It does change everything, Nate, your girls need you and there’s no reason I can’t step up and help. Say the word and it’s all back to you, because like fuck I want to be riding out into the night when I could be in bed with Lennox.”

“Let’s get through tonight and then you can lounge in bed all day, brother.” He gives me half a smile, then finishes saddling his horse.

“Where’s Caroline?” I ask.

“On the phone with our insurance company, making sure we’re covered if this goes sideways.” Nathaniel’s smile is grim. “Someone has to think about consequences. Might as well be her.”

“And James?”

“On his way. He’s getting the night-vision equipment from storage. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right.”

I move through the barn, checking preparations, greeting ranch hands I’ve known since childhood. Pete, who taught me to rope when I was eight. Miguel, whose father worked for my grandfather. Other newer ranch hands look nervous but steady. I clap Hank on the back and receive a grim nod from Jackson, barely twenty-two but already one of the best horsemen on the property.

All of them are loyal. All of them are ready to ride into danger because we asked them to. The weight of that responsibility settles on my shoulders, and suddenly my life in California seems very far away.

“Sebastian.” Dad’s voice comes from behind me. I turn to find him in full rancher mode: jeans, boots, black shirt, his weathered face set in lines of determination. He looks ten years younger than he did this morning, energized by the prospect of action. “We need to go over the approach.”

He leads me to a table someone set up in the tack room, a satellite map of Drake and Marshall properties spread across it. Red pins mark our southern boundary, and blue pins mark the cut fence line and theft location.

“Marshall land starts here.” Dad taps the map. “Their main operation is five miles south of the boundary. If they’ve got our cattle, they’re either there or at one of their outlying pastures.” He traces possible routes with his finger. “We’ll split into three groups. Nathaniel takes the east approach, I’ll take the west, and you take the middle with the bulk of the men. We converge on their main facility from three sides.”

“No, Nathaniel stays where it’s safe, we can split into two groups.”

“Fine, that’s probably smart. We don’t engage unless fired upon. This is about finding our property and taking it back. If the Marshalls want to make it violent, that’s on them.”

Dad’s eyes are hard.

“But we’re prepared either way.”