Page 22 of Roots of Redemption (Hicks Creek #4)

Chapter Eighteen

Sutton

I wake up to sunlight streaming through the curtains, the warmth of it soft against my skin.

For a moment, I’m still tangled in the haze of the best sleep I’ve had in…

well, maybe ever. My body feels loose and relaxed, like every knot of tension has been smoothed out.

And then there’s this other sensation, a tingling warmth low in my belly that makes me think of Wade.

My clit is humming still.

Damn, that man is incredible.

I’ve never known a man who only cared about what I needed in that moment.

The memory of him floods me: his hands on me, his voice, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. My core tightens at the thought, and I stretch out in the bed, half-reaching for him… only to find cold sheets.

I smile to myself. Smart man, really. He knew that if he stayed the night with me last night, neither one of us would have gotten any sleep. We have too much work to do, and there’s too much riding on me to find the cause and a solution before Hicks Creek disappears from the map.

I’m so irritated that Ronnie showed up. Of course he had to be a jerk, too. It’s like Wade knew what I needed before I did. I’ve spent so long being angry at him, but what if I wouldn’t have run away from him that night in Texas?

I cannot go there right now. Yes, I’m completely falling for this man, but I absolutely cannot afford to do so right now. There’s too much riding on my shoulders and I won’t let any man distract me.

I throw back the covers and get out of bed, shaking off the lingering ache of disappointment. My running shoes are by the door, and I grab them, deciding that a run will help clear my head. A quick shower can wait. Right now, I just need to move.

The air outside is crisp, and the morning sun filters through the trees as I hit the trail.

My legs find their rhythm quickly, the steady pounding of my feet on the dirt path grounding me.

The wind brushes against my face, and I focus on my breathing, on the way my body moves.

For a little while, it works. I forget about Wade and how he makes me feel like I’m standing on unsteady ground.

But by the time I’m heading back to the house, my thoughts are circling him again. It’s infuriating how much space he takes up in my head. I need to let it go. He’s a complication I can’t afford, and I’ve got enough on my plate without adding anything else to it.

Maybe I should just take some space from him, and then when all of this is over and fixed, we can reconvene.

I don’t want to stop whatever is happening between us, but I can’t get distracted. Not with Ronnie here causing problems, and especially not with the ag officer sniffing around.

As I round the last corner, the house comes into view, and my stomach tightens. Wade is standing outside, his broad shoulders and strong stance impossible to miss. He’s talking to Ronnie, who leans against his BMW with that cocky smirk that always puts me on edge.

Great. Just what I need.

Ronnie is trouble, always has been, and I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. He’s the kind of guy who’s always got something up his sleeve, and whatever it is, it’s never good.

There’s a reason we’re not together anymore.

He wanted a woman he could control, keep small and hidden, and that’s not me.

He’s a jerk, but for the most part I really don’t have to deal with him at work.

He gives me mostly free rein. However, every now and then, he shows up and makes gross comments.

If I didn’t love the work I’m doing, I would quit in a heartbeat.

I always dreamed that I would move back to Hicks Creek and that Dad and I would get along great and make up for lost time, but I don’t know that it’s not possible.

This trip has proven that, because even when I save the cattle and save all the ranches, I just think the divide between us is too wide for there to be any fixing it.

The tension between him and Wade is obvious, even from a distance. Wade’s posture is stiff, his jaw tight, and Ronnie’s smirk widens like he’s enjoying it.

I push down the unease curling in my gut and jog up the driveway, stopping just short of the two of them.

“Morning,” I say, keeping my tone neutral.

Wade glances at me, his expression unreadable. “Morning.” His voice is low and clipped, and he doesn’t meet my eyes for long before looking back at Ronnie. He walks away, leaving the two of us alone.

“Hey there, Sutton,” Ronnie drawls, his grin turning sharper. “Out for a run? Looks like you’ve been working hard.”

I ignore the way his eyes linger too long and turn to Wade. “What’s going on?”

“Just catching up with your old friend. No harm in that, right?” Ronnie asks.

“Do you want me to show you around here?” I snap at him.

Ronnie isn’t a veterinarian, and he doesn’t have a degree in animal medicine either. He’s an animal health executive with absolutely no experience. It just so happens that his father is the owner of the company, and when he retired, he put Ronnie in charge.

I found out quickly that he wasn’t at all the man he pretended to be. If I didn’t believe in my work at the lab, I would have left when Dr. Jameson retired .

“Sure. I need to make sure you’re not stealing company money.”

“Are you kidding me? I thought you were past this,” I snap.

He holds up his hands in a surrender. “It was a joke.”

“Passive-aggressive comments are not a joke,” I spit back at him. “Is this going to be a problem? If you took one look at the research, the samples, and everything I’ve sent back to the lab for the guys to go through, then you would know damn well how serious this is.”

“I don’t understand why you had to be the one to handle it,” he says as his gaze darts behind me.

Is he jealous?

“This is my hometown. I know these people and this land better than anyone else. Ranchers are more willing to let me on their property than some outsider.”

“You sure it’s not for some other reason, like that guy?” he asks as he gestures at Wade, who’s walking into the barn.

“I’m certain that it had nothing to do with him. And that’s none of your business. It’s a completely inappropriate question to ask an employee.”

“You—”

I don’t want to argue with him anymore so I have to stop this conversation altogether. Otherwise will just keep going in circles forever.

“Why don’t you wait in your car while I go get showered and dressed?” I ask.

“Why can’t I go with you?”

“You’re a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen,” I hiss under my breath.

“You know you want it.”

“Jesus, we’re not still doing this! I’ve told you at least a dozen times that I do not. Don’t say it again, or I will quit.”

“You wouldn’t quit.”

“Try me, Ronnie,” I spit back at him.

I turn on my heel and stalk back into the house, locking all the doors as I do.

Twenty minutes later, I’m back outside. Ronnie is nowhere to be found.

I breathe a sigh of relief. His car is gone, which means he’s probably pouting.

He’s the type of guy who probably thought following me out in the field and weaseling his way into my hotel room or whatever would get him laid.

That’s never going to be the case with me.

Benny is walking out of the house; his hat is off and he’s worriedly running his hand through what’s left of his graying hair.

“Benny!” I call out. He turns, sweat streaking his forehead, and wipes his hands on his jeans. “Where’s Ronnie?”

He squints at me, confused. “Ronnie? Was that the guy in the Beemer?”

I nod.

He snorts, shaking his head. “He said something about the smell being too much and he’d catch up with you later.”

Relief fills me. “Thank God. I didn’t want to deal with him.”

He tilts his head, curiosity flickering in his brown eyes. “Who is he, anyway?”

“My boss.”

His eyebrows lift slightly, but he doesn’t push. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and that’s when I notice the way his gaze flits around the yard like he’s expecting something. Or someone.

“Benny, what’s wrong?”

He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was looking for Wade, but I can’t find him. Or Mr. C.”

A ripple of unease spreads through me. “What do you mean?”

He exhales sharply, glancing toward the road like he expects them to roll up any second. “I was in town earlier. Ran into Gavin Wells. He told me that a bunch of sheriff’s deputies are out at Bob Nance’s place.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “Why? What happened? Is he okay?”

“Someone called in a report to the Department of Agriculture and said Bob was the cause of the epidemic. They’re out there forcing him to cull.” His jaw clenches, his voice thick with anger. “Gavin said they had Bob in cuffs.”

“What?” The word bursts out of me like an exhale punched from my lungs. “That can’t be. He’s one of the last ones to have symptoms. Who the hell called it in?”

Benny shakes his head. “I don’t know, Doc. I’m worried, though. Your dad and us—we were the first to show symptoms. If they’re doing this to Bob, it’ll bankrupt him. And if they come for us next…”

My stomach twists violently. Panic claws at my throat, the bile rising. This isn’t just some bureaucratic mix-up. Someone deliberately pointed the finger at Bob. And if they’re wrong, if they don’t have proof, they could be making things worse.

I turn on my heel, heading straight for my truck. “I need to get over to the Nance Ranch now and stop this.”

“Wait—” Benny steps after me. “You got proof he ain’t the cause?”

“Yeah,” I say, yanking open the door. “I’ve got data showing the spread doesn’t originate from his ranch. There’s no way he’s the source.”

Benny hesitates before nodding, but I can see the worry still etched on his face.

I pause, my hand on the truck door. “Why would someone call him in and report him?”

Benny exhales through his nose, thinking. “Beats me… but I did hear someone say he was thinking about selling the ranch and then changed his mind.”

I nod slowly, biting the inside of my cheek. That doesn’t sit right. Someone wanted Bob out of the way. But why?

Benny watches me carefully. “Where you going?”

I set my jaw, fire burning in my gut. “To save Bob Nance.”

I throw the truck into gear, dust kicking up behind me as I tear down the road toward the Nance Ranch, hoping to God I’m not too late.

I pull up to the Nance Ranch, my tires spitting up dust as I slam the truck into park.

Even before I step out, I can see the chaos unfolding.

Ag officers and sheriff deputies swarm the property, their vehicles lined up like they own the place.

Cattle bawl in protest as they’re herded into trailers, and off to the side, Bob Nance stands with his hands clenched into fists, his face red with anger and desperation.

The moment I swing my door open, Dr. Reed steps out from the cluster of officials. He adjusts his pristine white coat, an arrogant smirk tugging at his lips as he strides toward me like he’s about to send me packing.

“You can’t be here, Dr. Bishop,” Reed says smoothly, stopping just a few feet from me. “This is an official operation, and you’re interfering.”

I plant my hands on my hips, my voice sharp. “I’d love to see the paperwork authorizing this so-called operation. Where’s the warrant? Where’s the medical documentation proving these animals are infected?”

Reed’s smirk deepens. “I don’t have to show you anything.”

I let out a short, humorless laugh and pull my phone from my back pocket.

“That’s fine. I’ve got a few friends over at PETA who would love to hear about a government agency slaughtering animals without proof of infection.

” I let the words hang for a second before adding, “Oh, and I happen to know someone at Channel 6 News. I’m sure they’d be thrilled to do a live segment right here on this ranch. ”

For the first time, Reed’s confidence wavers. He glances at one of his colleagues, then back at me. “We got a call,” he finally mutters.

“A call?” I echo, my voice dripping with disbelief. “You mean to tell me you showed up here, rounding up cattle for slaughter, based on someone’s word over the phone? You didn’t bother to contact Doc Lucy, or me, knowing that we were handling this?”

Reed crosses his arms. “We had reason to believe—”

“Reason to believe what?” I snap, pulling out my notebook and flipping to the most recent entry. “Because I was here just the other day. We documented symptoms in three cattle. Three. Not an entire herd. Since then, Bob’s tightened his protocols, and no new cases have developed.”

Reed scoffs. “For all I know, you doctored that report.”

I step closer, unflinching. “Then show me your own medical documentation. Where are your test results? Bloodwork? Stool samples? Anything proving that these animals are sick?”

Reed doesn’t say a word. The silence stretches, thick and damning. I shake my head in disgust. “You’re about to slaughter innocent animals, ruin a man’s entire business without any proof or documentation?”

Behind us, Sheriff Clark steps forward, his expression dark with anger. “You told me you had all of this already,” he growls, his voice like rolling thunder. “You’re telling me you brought my entire department out here over a damn phone call?”

Reed’s jaw tightens. “Sheriff, I—”

Clark doesn’t let him finish. “Pack it up,” he barks at his deputies. “We’re done here.”

The officers hesitate, looking between Clark and Reed, but they don’t argue. One by one, they start heading back to their vehicles, their boots crunching against the dirt.

Reed glares at me, eyes burning with barely contained fury. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re just prolonging the inevitable. You have no jurisdiction here.”

I tilt my head, smiling coldly. “I don’t need jurisdiction, Dr. Reed. But I’m not about to sit back and let you ruin this community with whatever backwards agenda you’re pushing. This isn’t just cattle—it’s people’s livelihoods, their family legacies.”

Clark remains standing where he is, arms crossed, his presence an immovable force. “You heard the lady,” he says, eyes locked on Reed. “Time for you to clear out.”

Reed’s face darkens even further, but he doesn’t argue. He signals to his crew, and, one by one, the ag officers pile into their vehicles. The trailers, still half-full, remain parked, but the cattle inside are spared—for now.

When the last truck disappears down the dirt road, Bob Nance lets out a breath so heavy it seems to take the weight of the world with it. He turns to me, his eyes misty. “Sutton, I don’t know how to thank you. If they’d gone through with this—” He shakes his head. “I’d have lost everything.”

I squeeze his shoulder. “I’m not letting that happen.”

The immediate disaster is handled, but the uneasy pit in my stomach doesn’t fade. Because this isn’t over.

How long until Reed strikes again?