Page 30 of Roots of Redemption (Hicks Creek #4)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sutton

T he morning sun is already high when I climb into the truck, the tension from the chaos earlier still knotting my shoulders.

I need to check on my dad’s herd and make sure the trouble hasn’t reached him.

Dad told me that all was well on his end, but it would take him hours to check the pastures to see if anything had gotten to him.

Chances are, if it’s just one big cat, then it would be too full to go for any cattle on his land, too, but with him being the only one on the ranch, there’s no telling.

While I would probably sleep better thinking that this cougar showing up is pure coincidence, I don’t think it’s the case.

The outbreak, and now a cougar, is too much.

Cougars are rare in this area, but there are plenty of other ranches it would have gone through prior to getting here.

Tackett’s ranch and Dad’s border this one.

A hungry cougar would have gone after the herds there before coming to Wade’s.

I think this one was planted. I have no proof. It’s all an assumption, but my gut is screaming that this isn’t a fluke incident.

As I shift into reverse, ready to back out, the passenger and driver-side doors open simultaneously. Wade and Caleb hop in, settling into their seats like they own the place.

I glare at them, my hand still on the gearshift. “What the hell are you two doing?”

“You’re not going over there alone,” Wade says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not with a cougar prowling around.”

“I can handle myself,” I snap, but Caleb’s already buckling his seatbelt, looking at me with an expression that’s equal parts stubborn and concerned.

“It’s not up for debate,” Wade says firmly. “Drive.”

I’m irritated, but part of me is also flattered that the two boys care enough to make sure I’m safe. I give Wade a small, grateful smile. I’ll admit, it’s kind of nice to have someone want to protect me.

I throw the truck into gear and pull out onto the dirt road. “Fine. But don’t expect me to wait around while you two play cowboy.”

The drive to my dad’s place is quiet, tension hanging in the cab like a storm cloud. When we pull up to the house, Dad’s already on the porch, his weathered face breaking into a grin when he sees Caleb.

“There’s my favorite ranch hand!” Dad calls out, waving us over. Caleb’s face lights up, and he jumps out of the truck before it even comes to a full stop.

“Hey, Mr. Frank!” Caleb says, jogging up to him. Dad claps a hand on his shoulder, guiding him toward the barn as they chat like old friends. I watch them, stunned. My dad—the gruff, no- nonsense man who’s never had much patience for anyone—is smiling and laughing with a fifteen-year-old.

My eyes are wide as I take in the scene. I’ve never seen him be this kind to anyone before. Honestly, on the rare occasions he was around children, he basically grunted at them or ignored them.

“What is happening?” I mutter, climbing out of the truck. Wade chuckles beside me, his eyes following Caleb and Dad. “Do we have to deal with alien abductions now, too?”

“Were they not this friendly when you brought him before?”

“Not like this, but it’s still jarring to me.”

We saddle up the horses, Caleb chatting animatedly with Dad while Wade and I work.

Once we’re ready, we head out to check the herd, riding in a loose line as we scan the pasture for any signs of trouble.

The cattle seem calm, but we start rounding them up anyway, moving them closer to the house for safety.

As we work, something catches my eye. A few of the cows have different brands than I’m used to seeing on Dad’s herd, and their ear tags are a different color, too. I narrow my eyes, committing the details to memory. I’ll ask Dad about it later, but for now, we’ve got work to do.

“How’s it looking over there?” Wade calls out, his voice carrying over the open field.

“All good,” I reply, though my mind’s still turning over the odd branding. Caleb rides up beside me, his horse’s hooves kicking up small clouds of dust.

“Mr. Frank says we should pen ’em up closer to the barn,” he says. “Just to be safe like we did for ours.”

We spend the next hour moving the herd, the sun beating down on us as we work. By the time we’re finished, sweat’s dripping down my back and my arms ache from handling the reins. But the cattle are safe, penned up tight near the house.

Back at the barn, Dad’s waiting for us with a pitcher of lemonade, his gruff demeanor softening as he hands Caleb a glass.

“You did good out there, kid,” he says, clapping Caleb on the back. The boy beams, his chest puffing up with pride.

I don’t know that this man has ever complimented me, and I’m his daughter. Maybe I was right all those years: he wanted a son and not a daughter. The thought hits hard, my stomach dropping as tears prick at my eyes. I shake my head and knock the thoughts loose.

It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m glad that he’s at least kind to Caleb. If I want a future with Wade, that’s important.

I suck in a breath as the thought wraps around me. It’s not an if —I do want one. I just haven’t thought about the logistics or anything else. It’s something that I need to do, but figuring out what’s causing the herds to get sick is way more important right now.

“Thanks, Mr. Frank,” Caleb says, his voice earnest. “I’m just glad we got ’em all in.”

“Doesn’t look like any wild animals got a hold of anything, so that’s good,” Caleb says.

“Yeah, but seeing as something got yours, it’s only a matter of time,” Dad says as he looks out into the yard. “Setting up surveillance cameras may not be a bad idea.”

Is he serious, right now? I mentioned this before, and he totally blew it off. Apparently, I have to improve at making this man think it’s his idea and not mine. I inhale and exhale slowly as I let the words sit there.

“I can have someone out here tomorrow,” I reply.

He’s quiet for a full minute before he nods. “I’d appreciate it. Anything we can do to stay ahead of all this mess.”

“Of course, Dad. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

I go back toward the house carrying the lemonade pitcher. It was Mom’s favorite, and I don’t want anything to happen to it.

I step inside the house, the familiar creak of the floorboards under my boots.

The air smells faintly of coffee and leather, a comforting mix that feels like home, but right now, it only irritates me further.

Dad follows behind, his boots heavy against the wood.

He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his presence, steady and unyielding, just like always.

I turn around to face him when I realize that it’s just him and me.

“When were you going to tell me about the second mortgage?”

He freezes for a moment, his hand halfway to the coffee pot. He recovers quickly, pouring himself a cup like we’re discussing the weather.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I cross my arms. “I saw the papers. You took out a second mortgage on the ranch. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sips his coffee. “Must’ve been some mistake,” he says, not meeting my eyes.

“A mistake?” I let out a bitter laugh. “You’re seriously going to stand there and lie to me?”

“Watch your tone, Sutton,” he warns, his voice low.

“You should’ve told me, Dad. You should’ve asked for help. This isn’t just your ranch; it’s our family’s legacy. How could you keep something like this from me?”

His jaw tightens. But then he sets his mug down with a deliberate clink and fixes me with a hard stare. “I’m an adult, Sutton. This is my ranch. I don’t need to run any decision by you.”

“I am your daughter. It’s my ranch, too,” I say, my voice rising. “You’re struggling, and instead of asking for help, you’re burying yourself in more debt. Do you have any idea how upsetting this is?”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing. “Upsetting? You sure don’t act like you give two shits about me or this ranch.

You left. You abandoned your family and barely came back to bury your mama.

You’re gallivanting in Montana like you don’t have responsibilities back here.

I’ll be damned if I talk about financial issues with my spoiled brat of a daughter.

You don’t have a clue what it takes to run this ranch, to keep it afloat year after year.

If you did, you’d understand why I did what I did. ”

I feel as though he slapped me across the face. I gape at him, stunned. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says, his voice steady but firm.

“You come in here, acting like you know better, but you’ve never had to make the hard choices.

You’ve never had to sacrifice to keep this place going.

You made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with this ranch or me.

Don’t pretend like you care now when you think you might lose some money.

And don’t stand there and talk down to me like I’m some kind of fool. ”

I open my mouth to argue, but no words come out.

He exhales, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “This isn’t your burden to carry. It’s mine. And I’ll handle it the same way I always have.”

He picks up his coffee again and storms out of the house. That old wooden screen door flaps behind him.

I follow him out, the weight of our conversation hanging heavy in the air.

There’s so much I want to say, but the words stick in my throat.

I’m fighting back the urge to break down in tears, to scream at him that he disowned me and told me not to come home, that’s why I stayed away.

But doing any of that will only make me look crazy; it would be like screaming at a brick wall.

For now, I can only push the feelings aside and focus on the work ahead. I forgot to ask about the tags, but I’ll bring it up another day when he’s calmed down. As it stands now, I’m not sure that I could get through another conversation with him without crying.

“We should head back,” I say to Wade. “There’s still a lot to do.”

He nods, his gaze lingering on Dad for a moment before he turns to me. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

As we load up the truck, I glance back at the barn where my dad has already disappeared. I shake my head and start driving back to Wade’s property.

I don’t know how he does it, but my dad has a really annoying talent for making me feel really small.