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Oh no. God knows where this is going.
“People tend to treat their dogs like another human in the house, so when there’s a baby on the way, they call the dog the big brother or sister.”
“That’s ridiculous. A dog isn’t a person.”
“But it might as well be to Cheyenne.”
I hesitated as I realized what he was saying. “I get what you’re saying, but I don’t know how to execute such an idea. What am I supposed to do? Buy him a shirt that says, ‘big brother’ or something?”
Dad shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t really think that far ahead. I just was trying to brainstorm to help you not to screw this to hell. But yeah, something like that would probably just make the woman’s day. I think the dog bathes more than you do.”
“Shut it.”
He went into a laughing fit, scraping the mud up off the floor. I watched him work—just like he always did. The man’s worth rivaled that of some of the most wealthy snobs in the world, but there he was, cleaning the barn floor like he was just another regular guy.
And he had always made us do the same.
I’d spent hundreds of hours working alongside all the ranch hands, breaking my back just like they did. It didn’t matter how much money you made. If you weren’t contributing, you wouldn’t be doing any good.
And I would damn sure be passing that to my kid.
As I worked the broom, following behind Dad as he scraped, I racked my brain. There was nowayCheyenne would put Takoda in a shirt. I mean, yeah, she loved the dog like it was a human, but she didn’t dress it, for heaven’s sake. There had to be something else I could do...
Schedule photos?
Gender reveal party with the dog?
Those two ideas weren’t bad, but they weren’t something I could do immediately to make her feel like she belonged here with us.
“You been doing any of your leather work lately?” Dad’s voice grabbed my attention as he looked back over his shoulder at me. “You sure were good at that. You ought to make some time for it. You can make all kinds of cool stuff for the baby.”
That’s it.
“I’ll make him a collar.”
“I don’t think babies wear collars, son. I know that people treat babies and dogs the same, but that don’t mean that you—”
“I mean the dog, Dad. I could make him a collar that says ‘big brother’ on it. That’s less sissy like a shirt, but it’s still something that has that whole dog as a kid feel.”
“Oh, right.” He laughed. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. It’s just been a long day, I guess. I’m still worried about Ryder, too. I think we ought to let him go.”
“What?” I was shocked at the comment. “We don’t know for sure if he’s involved with anything—and that ain’t right.”
He paused, turning to look at me. “I don’t know if he’s involved in that cattle rustling thing, but I do know that he stole a couple of saddles from us and pawned ‘em down at the shop in town. Look…” He handed me his phone, which I didn’t realize he was holding.
I glanced down at the text the pawn shop owner had sent him. “Oh shit.”
ChapterThirty-One
Cheyenne
“What’re you doing?” Hazel called out to me, trotting across the yard as I swung open the Tahoe’s driver’s side door. “You know it’s supposed to storm again, right?”
“Yeah, I know, but I really need some air right now.”
“What? Why? Did Wade say something stupid? I didn’t even think he was out here. I saw him and Dad take off in the Ranger to get the colts up into the closer pasture.”
“Yeah, he did,” Blake called out, trotting to join us.
