Page 36 of Ashes of the Past
Chapter Fourteen
Jack
“So Brynn wasn’t doing the checks by herself in the morning like I thought?” I ask Nick.
“No, most of the time we do it together. She went out earlier than we discussed to do the fence on Sunday, and I was off Monday. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been alone. She’s a stubborn one.”
I cock my head to the side and eye him carefully.
“She didn’t tell me that.”
“Lane had a lot of the hands scared to do anything that made him look bad. Me? I didn’t care. I’ve been here too long to let a punk like that tell me what to do.”
“But why…?”
“He was an off-limits topic with Brynn and John.”
“Why is that?”
“He’s Clay’s brother, Olivia’s uncle.”
“They said that.”
He tightens the hold on the reins and looks ahead. “Brynn will never admit to it, but she’s scared of Clay. He’s not a good man, and from what I’ve seen of Lane, I’d lay bets that he put hands on her.”
I tighten my hold on the reins, too, as I fight back the anger that bubbles up over the thought of anyone hurting Brynn.
“But why would they let Lane stay here knowing he was a problem?”
“Clay was always claiming he’d take Olivia away from Brynn. I think they were trying to do whatever they could to eliminate a court battle. He’d never actually take her to court; he’s too lazy and wouldn’t have a leg to stand on anyway. I think John was trying to protect both of them and thought it wouldn’t hurt to give Lane a job. He wasn’t always a jerk, until he was.”
The horse whinnies, noticing my irritation as we ride. I focus on calming my breathing, reminding myself that Lane is no longer a problem, and if Clay ever comes to the ranch, I’ll handle it.
The sun is already high enough to sting the back of my neck. The heat rises off the ground in shimmering waves. The pastures stretch out ahead of us, dry and brittle, the grass more yellow than green. My horse’s hooves kick up little puffs of dust with every step. It hasn’t rained in over a week, and the land is starting to show it.
“Everything’s looking really dry,” I say, scanning the horizon for any signs of trouble—downed fences, stray cattle, anything out of place.
Nick nods, his weathered face drawn tight. “Yeah, it’s not good. If we don’t get some rain soon, we’re gonna be in trouble. The forecast isn’t calling for anything, either. The irrigation system is working overtime, but it can only do so much.”
“I know,” I mutter, tugging my hat lower to block the sun. “We should think about moving some of the cattle into thatshaded area over by the creek. The grass might hold out a little longer there.”
Nick pulls his horse to a stop and looks out over the dry expanse. “Not a bad idea. It’s not much better over there, but at least it’s something. Better than leaving them out here to graze on dirt.”
I nod, steering my horse toward the section of the fence line we haven’t checked yet. “Let’s finish up here, and then we can start moving them this afternoon.”
Nick glances at his watch and grimaces. “We’d better head back soon. Brynn’s probably got breakfast ready. She’s got a very set schedule, and she’s a creature of habit. If we’re late, she’ll put it all away and have the kitchen spotless before we get back. She’s got to get Liv to school and then open the shop, so she doesn’t play around.”
I smirk, thinking about Brynn and her relentless efficiency. “She runs a tight ship, doesn’t she?”
Nick chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s an understatement. She’s burning her candle at both ends between her shop, the ranch, her dad, and Liv. She thinks that she has to take the world on all alone. Lane didn’t help matters, either. That man…” He trails off, his expression darkening.
“Lane’s an asshole,” I say bluntly, and Nick snorts.
The thought of Brynn shouldering all that weight alone makes my chest tighten. I don’t like it. Not one bit.
I’m regretting not punching that asshole in the face when I had the opportunity. I’m not usually one to fight like that, but sometimes it’s warranted.
We turn our horses back toward the house, the smell of dust and dry grass thick in the air.
