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With a sigh, I headed to my room. Dressing quickly, I left my shirt off and went to take the casserole out of the oven. As soon as I sat down, my phone rang. I assumed my mom was checking on me.
“Hey, Miss Doris,” I smiled with my phone crooked in my ear and shoulder. “I’m eating three squares a day, greens and all, and I got my eight hours of sleep. No, I don’t have a girlfriend you can meet at Sunday dinner, and I’m not working myself to the grave.”
She laughed, but it sounded tense. “I’m glad to hear that, Rhys, but that is not what I am calling about.”
Now, I grew worried. “What is it then? Is it Grandpa?” My stomach sank. “Has he taken a turn for the worse?”
“No,” she said. “Your grandpa is doing fine, as fine as he can be. But you need to come home, Rhys. You need to come home now.”
My fork dropped on the plate, and worry cramped in my chest. “What’s wrong? Is someone ill? Are the horses ill? Did something catch on fire? Is the—”
“It's more than I can tell you over the phone, Rhys,” my mother sounded depleted. I wanted to dig, but I couldn’t. Besides, when Mom got this way, she was like Fort Knox. I wouldn’t get an answer if I tried to pull it out of her. “Please, come home, and we can tell you all you need to know, okay?”
I shot a look at the clock on the wall. It was about nine, and it might take me until midnight to drive to Hill Country, depending on the traffic. But there was no way I could say no. “Okay, let me grab a few things and I’ll be on my way. I promise.”
“All right,” she said. “Drive safe.”
I shot up from the table, my hunger forgotten, and threw on some clothes, God only knew what. I grabbed my wallet and keys and shoved my feet into my sneakers. I managed to push my uneaten meal into the fridge, and then I was out the door.
I swung into my Jeep SUV and headed northeast, trying to keep my speed under control. Throughout the whole two-hour ride, my mind kept spinning with ideas—and fears—about what had happened.
All the cows can’t die at once…can they?
Did someone set the stables on fire?
Could an earthquake sink pasture five?
Not even the radio could keep me company on the journey home. After I passed the little one-horse town with the U-Horn at the edge, there was nothing but trees and the odd service road for the Texas A&M Forest Service. I was relieved when the turn-off finally came into view, at the lone mailbox beneath a pair of towering cedars that meant I was home. I followed the gravel driveway, which wound through the woods for almost a mile before the house came into view.
Built from reddish-amber cedar with a dark-green trim, my childhood home was a mix of the old and the new. It had the traditional wraparound porch decorated with rocking chairs and tall columns, while gleaming solar panels covered most of the roof. Cables for internet and satellite TV wound through the trees and disappeared into the house, shaded by the old maple where the tire swing Daddy had made years ago still hung.
It was nearly midnight when I got there, but that did not stop Mom from coming out, holding a flashlight, and wrapped up in her terry robe.
“Rhys,” she breathed while reaching out for me.
I smelled that comforting mix of rosewater and talc when she hugged me. Hugging her back, I pulled away to kiss her cheek. “I’m here. What is happening, Mom?”
She pulled away and took to the stairs, and I followed her, expecting the house to be quiet, but inside the family room stood three ranch hands and Tucker, our foreman, all looking grim. Ross came to shake my hand; he was the youngest of the bunch but still about five years older than me.
“Glad to have you home, Rhys.”
“Thanks.” I looked to Tucker. The strands of silver hair at his temple glistened under the lights. He was in his forties, but the permanent scowl he wore made him look older. He was a good man when you got past his rough, gruff exterior. “What happened?”
“It's Ryan,” Tucker growled. “The damn fool of a boy nearly gambled the land from under us yesterday at Lone Star Casino's poker place. He came home today, drunk off his ass, and the tale came out.”
My entire body felt like I’d been plowed down by a ten-ton tractor. I couldn’t even breathe with the shock. “What?”
“Yes,” Mom said, while wrapping the lapels of her housecoat around her tighter. Her face was grim, and her eyes were dull. Lines were bracketing her mouth, and her lips were pressed tightly. “It's true. I swear it had to be God’s hand that let him win that last hand of poker, or all of us would be homeless now.”
The sixty-five-thousand-acre ranch had been passed down for four generations.
The house that I grew up in.
The people I loved and cared about.
Everything would have been gone if Ryan had lost the deed.
“Where is he?” I spun on my heel. “I’m going to beat the shit out of him.”
