Page 25 of Roots of Redemption (Hicks Creek #4)

Chapter Twenty

Sutton

D id this man really just threaten to put me over his knee?

Did I really get incredibly wet when he said it, too?

I like a dominant man, one who takes control and leads, but who is also kind and caring, with a little bit of a masochistic side to him.

I like that he threatened to spank me. It’s almost as if he read my mind without either of us knowing what I was thinking.

He’s driving my truck, something I never let anyone else ever do, and I’m riding along like a passenger princess and enjoying it.

My brain is a mess of thoughts.

I want to get lost in the fantasies of him and me alone in bed, but I can’t think about anything but the paperwork I’d found in my dad’s office. Not to mention, that’s just one more massive problem that I need to deal with.

I cannot be distracted by these feelings that I’m having for Wade Callahan. There’s too much on the line.

“You going to talk about what’s on your mind, or are you just going to stare off into space?”

This is none of his business. It’s a family matter.

But…I do trust Wade.

I let out a long sigh.

The truck bounces slightly as we hit a rough patch of road.

I tighten my grip on the duffel bag in my lap.

Wade sits beside me, his elbow propped on the open window, letting the warm breeze ruffle his hair.

He’s quiet, but I can feel his presence like a steady anchor.

I’m not sure if that’s comforting or terrifying, considering what I’m about to tell him.

I blink and focus back on the road. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

I hesitate, my fingers tightening around the notebook in front of me. “About the ranch.”

His brow furrows, and he shifts in his seat to face me. “What about it?”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in my voice. “I found some paperwork in my dad’s office. It’s… not good.”

“I assumed so. What kind of paperwork?”

“He took out a second mortgage on the house a few years ago,” I say, my voice cracking slightly. “The loan has a ridiculous balloon payment, and he’s behind on it. They’re close to foreclosing on the ranch.”

He lets out a low whistle. I glance at Wade.

“I don’t know what to do,” I continue, my voice rising as panic starts to creep in. “The payment is impossible, Wade. Even with what I have in savings, it wouldn’t be enough. And no bank is going to approve me for a loan to pay it off, not with the ranch in the red like this.”

Tears blur my vision, and I blink them away, my grip on the notebook tightening until my knuckles ache.

“We can’t lose it. We can’t lose the ranch.

I can’t lose it. It’s my home and… the dream was always to come back and raise a family here, to run it, to give back to the town and the ranch that shaped me.

But now…I never thought I’d lose it. It’s our family’s legacy.

It’s everything my dad worked for, everything my mom loved.

My dad…it will kill him and…I just… I don’t know what to do. ”

The tears spill over, streaming down my face as I try to hold myself together. My chest feels like it’s caving in, the weight of it all pressing down on me until I can barely breathe.

He reaches over and places his hand on mine, gently prying my fingers off the duffel bag. “Sutton,” he says softly, his voice steady and calm.

He steers the truck over to a dead-end field road, puts it in park, and then looks over at me.

I shake my head; my vision is still blurry. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to stop. I’m…we have places that we need to be and…”

“You’re not fine.”

The engine idles softly, the only sound in the otherwise quiet afternoon. He fully turns to me, his hand still resting on mine.

“Look at me,” he says.

I take a shaky breath and turn to face him, my tears falling freely now. His blue eyes are steady, his expression calm but serious.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, his voice low and sure. “I don’t know how yet, but we will. You’re not in this alone.”

I shake my head. “You don’t understand, Wade.

This isn’t just about money. We’re losing cattle because of this outbreak, but the ranch is falling apart physically.

He and Tuck put so much into that irrigation system, but it was likely a Hail Mary.

Things are falling apart faster than they can get fixed.

He’s too old to be running all of it by himself.

He can’t afford to pay anyone to work it with him because he’s so far in the red.

He’s going to get hurt and…The cattle are sick, and we don’t even know what’s causing it.

If I can’t fix that, there’s no hope. None.

But in reality, it’s just the beginning of this shit show. ”

He squeezes my hand, his grip firm but comforting.

“One thing at a time,” he says. “They always say that just before you’re about to make a big breakthrough that things always become the hardest, it’s where most people quit and give up their dreams. I guess I don’t know you well, but I’ve seen enough to know that you’re not a woman who gives up easily.

We’re ranchers, Sutton, it’s in our blood, and because of that, we’re resilient and we can problem-solve with the best of them.

First, we figure out what’s wrong with the cattle.

Then we deal with the rest. But you’ve got to trust me, Sutton. We’ll find a way.”

His words pull me back from the edge of the panic that’s threatening to consume me. I nod, my tears slowing as I take a deep breath.

He gives me a small smile, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand.

We sit there for a moment, the silence stretching between us. The weight in my chest feels a little lighter, though the problems haven’t gone away. But purging it all to Wade has helped more than I realized it would.

After a while, he lets go of my hand and leans back in his seat. “You ready to keep going?”

I nod, wiping my face with the sleeve of my shirt. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

As he pulls back onto the road, his words echo in my mind.

We drive in that silence for a while, the landscape rolling by in shades of green and gold.

I can smell his woodsy aftershave, and it’s comforting in the small space.

I feel way calmer than I did earlier, like he sees me and like he’s not going to let me do anything alone.

As someone who is used to being hyperindependent, it’s a nice feeling.

The hum of the engine and the rhythmic crunch of tires on gravel fill the space, and it feels like the world has narrowed down to just this truck and the two of us.

“You and your dad seem to be working things out,” he says, breaking the quiet. “Well, you weren’t screaming at each other anyway. The way you went back at him was impressive. Obviously, you still have a lot to work on, but it was a cordial visit, at least.”

I glance at him. “It’s a work in progress.

I spent so much of my childhood taking whatever he said to me or however he treated me, because I thought it was normal.

When I got older and saw that it wasn’t, we butted heads a lot because of it.

Nothing has changed there, except that I’m not scared to stand up for myself and anyone else. ”

He doesn’t press further, and I’m grateful. He’s more than aware that there’s a lot of history there, and it’s not his place to dig into it.

When we pull up to the next ranch, I shift into work mode immediately. I hop out of the truck, grab my kit from the back, and he follows my lead. Tanner Brown meets us at the gate, looking relieved to see me.

“Doc Sutton,” he says, tipping his hat. “Glad you’re here. The calves ain’t looking too good.”

I nod, already moving toward the pen. “Let’s take a look.”

Wade hangs back, letting me do my thing.

“Hand me the stethoscope,” I say, holding out a hand without looking at him. He passes it to me, and I crouch down to examine one of the calves. “Respiratory issues,” I mutter, mostly to myself.

“Think it’s related to the other cases?” Wade asks.

“Could be,” I reply, my brow furrowing in thought. “Need to run some tests to be sure.”

Tanner watches us with a mix of worry and hope. I move about the pasture as if no one else is even there.

“She’s calm, confident, and completely in control,” I hear Tanner say to Wade. “I was surprised to see you taking a backseat, but now I get it.”

“It’s impressive to watch her work—she’s efficient, knowledgeable, and completely in her element,” Wade answers.

I feel my cheeks heat up with the compliment.

Focus, Sutton.

This is definitely part of the outbreak. The cattle show the same symptoms as the other herds. All are showing similarities to bovine respiratory disease

“I’ve had a few stillbirths this week,” Tanner interjects as I go over to one of the pregnant heifers.

“You did? How many? How many is normal for you?”

“Usually, maybe one a month, if that. I’ve had three this week.”

I suck in a breath. Typically, that’s not a symptom of brD. It could be unrelated, but I need to be certain.

“Have you noticed any jaundice in the cattle? Have you been able to see any of their urine—is it dark in color?”

He shakes his head. I’d already done a urine sample earlier on some of the infected cattle, but nothing looked out of the ordinary.

Sometimes, leptospirosis, which is caused by bacteria in the soil, can have similar symptoms to the brD. The differentiating factors are that the kidneys and liver are under attack, which doesn’t happen with the respiratory disease.

I close my eyes and focus on calming my breathing. Lepto is a zoonotic disease, which means that it can be transferred to other species, like humans. We could be dealing with an outbreak among the cattle and ranch workers in town.

Yes, this is part of the reason that I’ve been so adamant about the protocols, but now I’m wondering if I shouldn’t have enforced even stricter protocols.

“Okay, I’m going to do another round of different testing before we go. From this moment forward, Tanner, no one can come into this pasture or handle the cattle without being completely gloved up and in protective gear, do you understand?”

“We’re following the protocols, Doc.”

“I understand, but now is not the time to be lax on any of them. Are your dogs and horses up to date on vaccines?”

“Yes, Doc Lucy takes care of all of that.”

“From this point on, nothing goes in the pens with the cattle. No horses, no dogs or cats…unless they’ve been vaccinated within the last year for leptospirosis.”

“Is that what this is?” Wade asks quickly, his eyes wide.

“I can’t confirm that without the tests, but the symptoms are close to respiratory disease. The stillbirths may not be related, but I don’t want to take a chance at the entire town getting infected with a zoonotic disease.”

Tanner and Wade’s eyes widen. “Okay, we’ll double glove and keep the sanitizing station fully stocked, too.”

“I need to know immediately if you or your guys notice any jaundice or dark urine.”

“Of course,” he says.

“Keep the protocols in place, keep up with these antibiotics I just prescribed, and I think we’ll keep it contained. Check with Doc Lucy, too. If there are cattle that haven’t been vaccinated, or other animals, as long as they’re healthy they need to be vaccinated ASAP.”

“I’ll call immediately. Thanks, Doc.”

“Great. Here’s my card if you need anything else. I’ll be back in a few days to check on you. I took urine, blood, and stool samples, and I’ll let you know if I get them back sooner.”

“Perfect, thanks again, Doc,” Tanner says as he reaches out to shake my hand.

Wade and I return to the truck, removing our hazmat suits and using the cleaning station in the bed of my truck to sanitize before climbing inside.

“Lepto?” Wade asks. “Were you thinking that before?”

“It’s been a thought, but everything is pointing more toward brD. The stillbirths could be a fluke, but I have to cover all the bases. I haven’t noticed any jaundice in any other cattle, no one has reported stillbirths, either.”

“Hopefully, it’s just a one-off with Tanner’s ranch,” Wade sighs. “Otherwise, things just amplified tenfold. I’ve never known any humans to get lepto, but I know it’s a possibility.”

Wade is behind the steering wheel as he drives us back to his ranch. I’m making notes on my laptop, also going through, looking for keywords to see if I missed the jaundice or other lepto signs at other ranches. Nothing is populating, thank goodness.

“I know it’s easy for me to say, but don’t stress. I’m certain you’re looking to see if you missed something, but you’re really good at what you do, and I think you should know that, hear me say it, at least. I’m really impressed.”

I smile softly back at him before going back to my laptop. I’m not really used to compliments and don’t know how to react. I let out a sigh.

Wade is a really good man. I glance over at him and let myself imagine what it would be like if things were different—if I wasn’t so tangled up in my own mess, and if I didn’t live in Billings.

He’s a distraction that I can’t afford right now. At the same time, it feels so right to say yes and see where this goes between us.

“Okay,” I reply.