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“But I’m not the foreman.”

“But it’s time you were,” Ward said.

Link met his eyes. “You’re going to retire?”

“Not entirely,” Ward said. “About how your daddy has.” He grinned at Link and then around to everyone.

“I called it a junior foreman position,” Ranger said. “Your own house to take care of, which would be a step up from where you are. Separate from the other cowhands. Better pay as you move into full-time training with Preacher and Ward.”

Link nodded, because he wasn’t sure what to say. Mitch rang through his head, but he didn’t speak his cousin’s name out loud.

“Daddy,” a boy called, and all the cowboys turned toward the front door hallway. Flint came around the corner with a big golden retriever. “Uncle Duke needs help.”

Everyone moved at the same time, even Link. He joined the flow of cowboy boots as they left the house, and outside, he found Duke with a rope around one cow on his left, and one on his right. The stubborn bovines wanted to go in opposite directions, and he looked at everyone with a hint of panic in his eyes.

“Cattle are loose,” he said.

“It’s summertime,” Cactus growled. “They’re free range.”

“Not here,” Preacher said, limping alongside Link as they let the others go to help Duke with the black cows in front of them.

Phones started chiming, Link’s included, and he pulled it out in sync with Uncle Preacher. “It’s my daddy.”

“Cattle are out,” Ranger boomed. “We’ve got to drive them back up into the hills. Let’s saddle up, men.” The crowd flowed toward the stables then, and Link hurried to saddle his beautiful bay. He worked with Copper every single day, and he trusted the equine completely.

Activity buzzed throughout the stables as everyone worked to get ready to head out, and Link wasn’t the first to leave. He wasn’t the last to arrive on the western fence on the ranch either, where his father rode atop his black and white Appaloosa. A pretty, confident, strong horse named Peppermint.

“They’re comin’ back here,” he said. “Not sure why, and we’ve got to get a perimeter on them and get them back into the hills.”

Cactus whistled through his teeth, and all of the ranch dogs—even Dusty and Rio—went to him. “C’mon, hounds,” he said. “Round up.” He actually led out on his pretty gray horse, and Link fell into line with Uncle Ward and Uncle Preacher.

“Thoughts?” Preacher asked.

Link kept his eyes on the horizon, no cattle in sight. He thought of Misty, then him and Misty living here on this ranch. His mind bucked against that, because he simply wasn’t sure she’d ever accept a life with him here in the Texas Panhandle, in a small town of only twenty thousand, on a ranch thirty minutes from a grocery store.

Then, as the harsh sunlight shimmered against the far distance, a scene opened up for Link. One with Misty standing on the porch of a house Link couldn’t fully imagine. A little girl with red hair stood at her side, waving, and she carried a blond-haired boy in her arms. Pure happiness accompanied the scene, and Link wanted the idyllic life with a wife and family, dogs and horses, cattle and this ranch, with every fiber of his being.

“I think I’m ready to be a junior foreman,” he finally said, grateful his uncle hadn’t pressured him to answer. Hadn’t kept needling him with questions. Preacher had just said, Thoughts? and let Link think.

“I can take good care of the Top Cottage,” he said next. He looked over to Ward, then Preacher.

“Tell us what’s on your mind,” Uncle Ward said.

Link took a breath. “I’m worried about Mitch.”

“Mm,” both Ward and Preacher said at the same time.

Link started to chuckle, and he shook his head. “Did you guys practice that?”

“No,” Ward said with a chuckle. “Preach?” He looked past Link, who rode between them.

“Yeah, Mitch.” Preacher sighed out a sigh that didn’t sound super happy. “Mitch is worried about Mitch. I’m worried about Mitch. Everyone is worried about Mitch.”

“Should I not be?” Link asked. “He’s older than me, Preach. Why isn’t he foreman?”

Preacher didn’t need to answer. Mitch couldn’t be foreman, because he couldn’t speak to everyone the way Link could. He was an excellent cowboy and Link’s absolute best friend in the world. He’d stopped going to church at some point last year, but Link loved him all the same.

“He’s mentioned going back to Virginia a time or two,” Link said casually. “I don’t think he wants many people to know that.” He looked ahead to where Cactus rode, the dogs fanned out alongside him.