Page 2 of Brutal Heir

I drag in a deep breath, feeling a steady pounding behind my eyes. Ranch relations is a touchy subject in the energy business. More so when the manager’s an asshole, like this guy. Ezequiel Mata, the ranch manager is one of the main reasons I want nothing to do with the interim security manager title Bill offered.

I force myself to smile so I don’t take a surly tone with him in front of the entire team. “Understood.” I cross my fingers that I manage to pull it off. I agreed to oversee the day-to-day security detail on Bill’s behalf. It got me a significant bump in pay and a company truck. After this incident, I don’t know that it’s going to be enough.

Lord knows if someone other than Bill had asked me to fill in once Mike left, I would have declined without a second’s hesitation. It’s not like I’d get a black eye over it. Everyone knows Kelly Oil & Gas is looking to sell the construction division. That means all our jobs will go to the new company, so we don’t know if we’ll still be employed the day after the sale. And there’s no telling if they’ve had offers or what stage the negotiations might be in.

“Sage?” The question in his voice brings me back to the issue at hand. Did I miss something?

“Sorry Bill,” I reply sheepishly. “I’ll end the call now, if it’sokay, so I can get going.”

“Yes, go ahead,” he agrees. “I’ll head out after the meeting.”

“Thanks. I’ll see what I can do.” I stab at the red button on the phone screen with so much force my fingernail pushes up, making me wince. I stick my fingertip in my mouth, as if that’ll help ease the pain.

Great, this day is going from bad to worse. I reach for the radio, hitting the button on the side. “Come in, Emilio.” The beep announces the end of the connection.

“This is Emilio,” he replies.

“Move up to the lead.” I release the button on the radio, waiting for a reply.

“Roger,” he confirms.

I get out of the truck, slamming the door. The truck driver behind me raises his hands, frowning. I hold my palm out, signaling to wait, and he gives a thumbs up.

I walk behind the truck to the driver’s side and glance down the line. The heat and humidity add another layer of annoyance to my mood. How can it be in the mid-eighties at seven o’clock in the morning? The sun isn’t even fully up yet. The temperature and the snakes are the two things besides the ranch manager I don’t like about South Texas.

Emilio pulls the white security truck up next to me. He brings the window down, releasing a cool gust from the cab. “Hey, Miss Sage. Problem?” he asks, putting the gearshift to park.

“We’ve got a cattle strike in the restricted area.”

“Ooooh.” His eyebrows shoot up past the safety glasses he’swearing. “That ‘ol’ boy’s gonna have himself a bad day.”

Now, there’s the understatement of the year. “Well, if the guy can’t control his vehicle at twenty miles an hour, he probably deserves it.”

Emilio pushes back his ball cap. “So what happens now?”

“I need to talk to the driver so I can write up an incident report.”

He cocks his head. “That’s not too bad.”

I give him a couple of seconds to see the big picture, then I finally do the big reveal. “And Ezequiel.”

He drops his chin, looking straight down toward the seat. “I’m sorry, Miss Sage,” he says, shaking his head as he straightens out.

I don’t deal with the ranch manager often, but, when I do, I can expect he’s going to be a jerk.

“Thanks.” I let out a breath. “I’m going to need you to take over.”

He gives a quick nod of acknowledgment.

“You know the route.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Call if you need me, or if anything happens.” I tap my hand on the door, feeling the heat of the metal seep into my fingers even though the sun isn’t up yet.

“Will do.” He nods sympathetically. “Good luck,” he adds as he raises the window.

Yeah, I’m going to need it. I turn on a heel, scanning the ground as I go around the truck bed then climb in the cab.

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