Page 7 of His Last Nerve

“You’re dumber than you look if you came over here to sell your sick herd to me,” I growled, taking a step towards him. I was pissed now.

That was the thing about the Waters ranch; they’ been cutting corners and ignoring laws for decades. No doubt those cattle had probably dropped dead from brucellosis. If one was infected, then the whole herd needed to be put down.

Humans could catch that shit.

However, a man like Carson Waters didn’t play by those rules. He just wanted his money at the end of the day.

I pulled my gun out of its holster and opened the chamber as I spoke. “You know, I’m not a dumb man, Waters. My ranch is the most profitable in three counties. That’s because my cattle has three generations of good genes in them, healthy and strong. You were in debt and sold your ranch to the state. No doubt there’ll be a new development on it soon. A shopping mall or a fucking movie theater.”

I stopped and looked up at him. His eyes were wide, trained on my gun. I closed the chamber and loaded a bullet. “You came down here to sell your cattle for a quick buck, thinking you could get away with two quick profits—”

“Listen, Den—”

“You shut the fuck up when I am speaking to you. Don’t you dare interrupt me,” I growled. “You got balls coming out here to my land, trying to sell me sick cattle.”

His skin paled. “I—”

I raised my gun at him. “What the fuck did I just say?”

“Denver.” That was Mags, a warning in his tone. I ignored it.

Carson Waters drove his new truck onto my land with the intention of bringing sickness into my herds. Thank fuck there was a mountain separating our ranches.

“You came onto my land and presented a threat to Hallow Ranch, Waters. “I don’t take that shit lightly,” I clipped.

He was shaking his head now, backing up to hist truck slowly.

“You got five seconds to get in that truck and off my ranch. Then, you have thirty minutes to report those dead cows to the livestock officer. After that, you have two days to get the fuck out of this state. Go. Retire to Florida, find a tan, blonde bimbo willing to suck that limp cock of yours.”

He stared at me in shock and disbelief.

“Five. Four. Three—”

He was in the truck and speeding away by the time I got to five. Sighing, I put my gun away and turned to get back to work, only to find Mags staring at me.

“Brother—”

“Don’t. Let’s get these hay bales loaded.”

His lips thinned under the show of his hat, but he nodded.

Mags was a retired Marine, like me. We never served together but a year after Pop died, Mags wandered into the barn. He had been a drifter at the time, nowhere to go, no place to call home. One look at him and I knew. There were demons in his eyes, demons he needed to fight or let go of. The only way for a man like him to do that was peaceful work.

I offered him a space in the bunkhouse and a job, and the rest is history. Over the years, I’ve tried to keep him out of shadows that Hallow Ranch possesses but eventually he wanted to know the truth. I’m not one to bullshit, so I gave it to him.

I promised Pop I would do anything to protect this ranch, even if it meant spilling blood where it was due.

Twenty-five years ago

“Boys.”

I didn’t want to look at Pop, not right now. My hand tightened around Mason’s. He was only eight. He didn’t need to see this. I was over the age of ten, nearly eleven. Pop said that’s when little boys start turning into men.

I didn’t think I was ready to be a man yet.

“Boys, I need you to look at me,” Pop’s gruff voice commanded. It was filled with sadness.

I lifted my eyes and Mason did the same. I looked over at my little brother, he had been crying a lot today. That was okay. Little boys were allowed to cry.

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