Page 58 of Branded

I have to find them. Before they get us all killed.

20

LENNOX

I can’t sleep. Sebastian’s old bedroom in the main house is massive, bigger than my entire apartment in California, with a giant four-poster bed and windows overlooking the front drive. Eleanor insisted everyone stay in the main house tonight in case the Marshalls decided to retaliate, so here we are, in Sebastian’s childhood room, surrounded by remnants of the boy he was.

Rodeo trophies on shelves. Photographs of a teenage Sebastian on horseback. A bookshelf filled with ranching manuals and business textbooks. This room tells the story of a kid trying to figure out where he fit: a ranch legacy or a business empire.

I pace the hardwood floor in the nightgown Eleanor had provided—silk, expensive, completely impractical. My mind races through the events of the night. The ambush. The gunfire. Walker bleeding. The cattle scattering in panic.

The cattle.

I stop pacing, a thought materializing.

Thomas Marshall had set a trap, positioning men with the stolen cattle to ambush us. But that ambush had gone sideways. We hurt them as much as they hurt us, maybe more. I shot at least one man. Pete dropped two. And there were other exchanges of gunfire I didn’t see.

Which means the other side is also dealing with casualties. Wounded men. Maybe dead ones. They’ll be focusing on that, getting their people medical attention, covering up gunshot wounds just like we’re doing with Walker.

The cattle will be the least of their concerns right now.

And cattle are creatures of habit. Our stolen stock know where they belong. They’ve been grazing those same south pastures for months, know the water sources, have a routine. Spooked by gunfire and scattered across unfamiliar territory, they’ll be confused, jumpy, looking for anything familiar.

If someone were to go out there right now, while the Marshalls are distracted, someone who knows how to move cattle quietly and efficiently, those animals would practically push themselves back across the property line.

We can get our cattle back while they are too busy with their own problems to notice.

I can do it. I’ve moved cattle at night before in Montana during calving season, when you have to shift heifers to different pastures without disturbing the whole herd. It’s delicate work, requires patience and skill, but it’s absolutely doable.

The question is whether Sebastian will let me try.

I look down at the silk nightgown, at my bare feet. Not exactly cattle-moving attire. But if I go back to change into my clothes, I might lose my nerve. I might start thinking of all the reasons this is a terrible idea instead of the one reason it is brilliant.

I grab a robe from the bathroom and head into the hallway. The house is quiet at this hour, just the sound of my footsteps on marble and the distant murmur of voices from downstairs.

I follow the voices to what looks like Walker’s study. The door is open, light spilling into the hallway, and I hear Sebastian’s voice, low and intense.

“—can’t be one of the senior hands. They’ve been with us too long. But someone talked, and I need to know who.”

“Could be one of the newer guys.” That’s Nathaniel. “We hired five hands this spring. Any of them could have been planted.”

“Or it could be someone with a grudge. Someone Dad’s pissed off, someone who sees an opportunity.” James this time. “We’ve got forty employees on the ranch. That’s forty potential leaks.”

I knock softly on the door frame. Three heads turn toward me, and I see Sebastian’s expression shift from intense focus to surprise.

“Lennox. What are you doing up?”

“I can’t sleep.” I tighten the robe around myself, suddenly very aware I am standing in front of three men in what amounts to expensive lingerie. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows rise, but he stands. “Give me a minute.”

He ushers me out of the study and down the hall to a smaller room, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and leather furniture. He closes the door behind us.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes travel over me, lingering slightly at my breasts, and he licks his lips. Typical man. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I have an idea.” I start pacing again, the silk robe swishing around my legs. “About the cattle. About getting them back.”

“Lennox, we’ll search for them at first light. Right now⁠—”