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“What the hell is going on here?” Brandon flew out the door with Zak, Dallas, Dante, and Hales right behind him.
Liam and Kurt had just left with Coco heading to Johnson City for a day of shopping. Brandon had wanted to go with them but Mason had asked him to stick around.
Apparently the reason for his request had just arrived.
Eighteen-wheelers slowly rolled by the house, following the gravel drive up to the scale house and loading chute. The first one had paused long enough for the driver to ask Mason where he wanted the heifers.
Mason had indicated the first barn and the convoy continued. One driver after the next threw up his hand and waved in passing. The strong aroma of cow shit filled the air and the moos resounded along with the unmistakable sound of hooves clobbering the trailer beds as the cattle tried to maintain their footing on uneven terrain.
“Uh-oh,” Dallas said, stoic and standing next to Zak.
“This can’t be good,” Dante added.
“It’s not,” Zak grumbled, seeing his day with Drina flash before his very eyes. “Wait up, Brandon!”
“What the hell is going on here?” Brandon was blazing mad. He paced the length of the concrete patio. “Did you know about this?”
“No,” Zak replied, turning his attention to the youngest Blazier brother.
Mason looked happy as a clam. He stuffed his hands in his new blue jeans and rocked from one foot to the other. “You said we were going legal and I’ve been working hard to make that happen.”
“Please tell me you aren’t the city slicker the local farmers have been bitching about.” Brandon ran his hand through his hair.
“Bitchin’, why?” Mason frowned. “And obviously I’m not the problem, whatever it is. You boys know I don’t have one ounce of city in my blood.”
“Somebody has been running the cattle prices up at Abingdon Stockyard, Greenville, Knoxville, and Kingsport, too. Know anything about that?”
Mason turned toward the trucks when one of them seemed to have a problem with the grade at the end of the drive. “I haven’t been running up the cattle. If I did, it helped the local farmers.”
“You hurt some buyers and a few locals buying for an outfit out of Nebraska,” Brandon said, digging in his shirt pocket for his phone. “Here, look at these texts.”
As Mason scrolled through Brandon’s phone, Zak reluctantly dragged his cell from his pocket, too. He hit speed dial and was sent to Drina’s voice mail. She was probably in the shower. His mouth watered at what a sight that might have been, but pushing aside a fantasy, he finally managed a message. He kept his voice low and said, “Drina, we got a little problem out here at the farm. Mason bought up a few shipments of cattle and now we have to find a place to put ’em. With fences down, we’ll be lucky to finish up before midnight. I’ll call you later.”
“Mason, do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Brandon stomped to the left
and then the right. He clearly didn’t know if he was coming or going.
Mason crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot. “Guess you guys weren’t too serious about taking things to the next level and going legit. Is that it?”
“No! That is not it.” Brandon threw his hand up in the air. “You know what? I can’t deal with this right now. I haven’t even poured a first cup of coffee.” He stomped back to the porch. “Zak! You deal with him.”
“They don’t call you the sweeper for nothin’,” Dante muttered.
“I cleaned up arms deals, not cow shit,” Zak said, squinting to see what kind of trailer was making its way toward them now. “Mason! What the hell is that?” He pointed at a trailer full of ATVs.
“Don’t worry, big brother, I bought eight of ’em. A guy in Johnson City is closing his motorcycle and ATV store and he gave me a great deal.”
“Well, I guess he did,” Hales said, finally jumping in the conversation. “Some big Ike walks in and wants to buy eight of anything in this economy and the business owner probably saw you for what you were—a rich kid with big brother’s checkbook.”
“Brandon is gonna hit the roof,” Dallas grumbled, never moving a muscle.
“Hey, dude!” Mason cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled at the driver. “Just pull around to the side and leave a key in each one of ’em!”
The driver nodded, waved, and followed the directions he’d been given.
“Is there something you boys aren’t telling me?” Mason asked.
