“Not like I do. I don’t raise my horses just to send them to slaughter eighteen months later,” Candice shoots back. She’s smiling her viper queen smile, the one she wears when she’s ready to play ball. I need to diffuse this situation before they murder one another.
“Relax you two,” I say. “Candice, we’re ranchers. You know that. And your family eats meat, too.”
“I know,” she says, crossing her arms and glaring at me.
“Riley and Cam,” I say, turning to my younger brothers. “Candice doesn’t eat meat. She spends too much time rehabilitating animals to enjoy eating them.”
“But what will we serve at your wedding?” Cass says in a teasing voice.
Candice bursts out laughing. “Oh, Nathan and I aren’t together. So no worries there.”
“Ouch,” Riley says.
I say nothing, and instead take Candice’s plate and put the omelet on it for her.
“Here,” I say. “I made this for you instead.”
She looks down at the omelet like she’s never seen an egg before, and then looks up at me, eyes wide, cheeks pink. “You cooked for me?”
“You’re our guest,” I say gruffly, well aware that all eyes in the kitchen are resting on me and Candice.
“You cooked for me,” she repeats, almost to herself. “Thank you.”
After dinner,Candice decides to visit the horses with Cassandra, and I get the chance to talk to my two idiot brothers alone. Unlike my mom, they’ll be honest with me about howthe ranch is doing, and whether or not I need to inject more cash into it. Even though I’ve lost some endorsements, I’ve got enough in the bank to keep things going for a while.
We’re seated in the living room, which my mother had redone recently. She chose comfortable leather couches, plush carpeting, and a thick oak mantle piece. It’s not the living room I grew up in—the one I spent countless nights in with Cass, ignoring our father’s drunken yelling and trying to distract Riley and Cameron—but it’s homey. It feels safe in here.
“Tell it to me straight,” I say to my brothers.
“Things are going fine,” Cameron says, swirling the whiskey in his glass around.
“Don’t lie to me,” I say.
“He’s not. We are fine,” Riley says. “Promise.”
“Youmight be fine, but the ranch isn’t doing great, is it?” I ask.
“Cassandra runs a tight ship, and we’ll turn a small profit this year,” Cameron says. “But we don’t have much room for error.”
My gut clenches. My dad mismanaged the ranch for years, and when Cassandra took over running the place, it was in deep financial trouble. Together we dug this place out of the hole he left it in and paid off all the loans, but it’s still tough making money off of a small family ranch. I’ve made sure my family has enough money to live comfortably, and I invest in the business, but it took a huge sum initially to pay off the debts our dad accrued.
“Hey, well, what does it matter? You’ll win another buckle and a fat check soon anyways,” Riley says.
I sense a note of anger in my brother’s voice, and I get it. I really do. They toil away on this ranch every day, doing the same shit that we all did as teenagers, day in and day out. Sacrificing their lives in service of a business built by a man we hate. Meanwhile, I’ve been posing for boot advertisements andwinning five-hundred-thousand-dollar buckles. I’d resent me, too.
“I won’t be able to compete forever,” I say. “And I want to make sure you’re all taken care of.”
“We don’t need you to take care of us,” Cam says.
“Hey, man, not cool. Nathan’s just doing his part,” Riley says, surprising me by defending me, moments after he seemed pissed.
As the two older siblings, Cassandra and I have gotten used to our younger brothers chafing at how much we try to take care of them. But when you grow up with a father who’s a cheat and a loser, you realize you have to step up and help out. Cass and I both stepped up, in different ways.
“I don’t mean it like that,” Cam says, sighing. “Like we don’t want your help. I just mean that Cassandra has things under control here. The ranch is going to survive, and we all know it’s due to your help. But we also want you around more often. So compete less, if that’s what you want.”
Cameron, for all his gruff exterior, is as soft-hearted as I am at times.
“Cute,” I say. “You miss me.”
