2. Crew

2

Crew

" I hate that fucking truck," Ford groans, his fingers digging into the scruffy fur of Bandit as a dust cloud forms at the end of the drive coming down from the highway to the ranch. "Why the hell is he even here anyways?"

Ford moves from the cat and scoops up a bail of hay, tossing onto the loader and cleans off his hands on his jeans as my brother pulls his truck up to the barn.

"Not a clue." I mutter.

"Deal with it," he barks at me and turns tail toward the stables on the east end of the property. I look at Bandit still perched on the fence, the mean calico cat only hisses in return and follows Ford into the dark barn.

"What can I do for you, Sheriff?" I ask my brother as he drops from the big, black truck in his heavy boots and tightly fitted county uniform.

"I told you not to call me that, Crew," he shoves two fingers into the gun holster around his waist, a long sigh dripping from his lips.

"Sorry, Cammy." Cameron Cassidy, boy wonder, town sheriff. Mom's favorite.

"It's Cam, just Cam."

I enjoy riling him up, it's like seeing a cat in heat. His face flushes with color and his fingers flex around his belt.

"What do you want Cam?" I ask again.

"I got—" he pauses, turning around to grab something from the center console of his truck, "I got a new community service case I need you to take. "

This was common, once a year Whiskey River took on a community member looking to ease their sentence time. Usually it was younger members, people that hadn't ever committed a crime before or never a serious one. Cam hands me the folder and the minute I flip it open I already know he had driven up here with the sole purpose of pissing everyone off.

"No," I hand him the folder back. "Not her."

"She ain't done nothing wrong to this ranch, Crew."

"No but it's gonna piss the guys off just the same and we sure as hell don't need the trouble that Shepard's bringing." I tower over his six foot frame dwarfing him by at least three inches and cock my head to the side. "I'm sorry Cam, but no."

"She needs help Crew."

"There's a lot of people that need help. Find me someone else."

I hear the long drawn out sigh he does whenever he's tired of my shit. I make a mental note that it only took the five minutes he's been here to piss him off. A new record.

"She has a son." He blurts it as if this information will suddenly change my mind. "It's either this," Cam shoves the folder back at me, smacking me square in the chest, "or jail and you and I both know that she has no one else."

"Kid's got a father, right?" I bite, refusing to take the paperwork plastered to my shirt as he holds it here.

"Tommy Henry."

Shit.

"By the look on your face, I take it you remember him." My brother's tone turns sour. Tommy was nothing but trouble, even in school. I personally never had the chance to fight him but Cam had visited the principal more than once alongside Tommy. "That boy needs his mama more than he does his dad. Look," he sighs again, "read her file over, hell cross out her damn name if it'll help you take her on. I don't care but before you say no for a fifth time, think of her kid."

This time when he lets go of the folder, I grab it. "If I do this and that's a big if, I'm not doing it for her sake."

Cam backs away a grin slowly plastering over his softer familiar features, "I don't care why you do it brother, just as long as you do."

I narrow my eyes at him, "this isn't a yes."

He tosses the same charming smile at me that he does the women down at Devil's Backbone and shrugs, "it's also not a no."

"It's gotta get cleared by Ford," I warn him.

"So get Ford to agree," he stands by the door of his truck. "Don't let another generation of Shepard slip through the ranch's cracks."

"Nice touch," I nod, feeling that shot right through my chest.

Cam climbs back into the cab of the county vehicle and tosses a wave out of the window. I wait until the dust cloud that follows him gets further past the barns before glancing back down at the file in my hand. I hadn't gotten past her name before shoving it back at Cam. Mind already made up that having another Shepard step foot on this land would be nothing but a headache and despite the already dull throb in my temple I peel back the manila cover.

A pair of blue eyes look up at me through her processing photo. Her hair is unruly and tied into a messy knot at the top of her head. Though it's the expression on her face that catches my attention. The anger and exhaustion written over her features sends another warning shot through me. Before letting myself examine that feeling too much further, I flip to the next photo. It's a photo of a boy, no older than five with eyes like his mama's and a smile that feels like a tiny ray of sunshine after a storm. I stare at the photo a moment longer before snapping the file shut again.

I don't need to read the rest.

The walk to the stables is filled with nothing more than the dirt beneath my feet and the sound of men working in groups with some of the younger horses. The sun is warm today, relentlessly so and sweat licks the space between my shoulder blades and sticks to my riding shirt.

As soon as I make it to the stables the sound of Ford cursing at something welcomes me. Great. I step into the breezeway and get a glimpse of him trying to spin Nash, one of our more ornery stallions, in his bay.

"C'mon man," Ford urges, "you can't eat when your ass is facin' the bucket."

I walk over to him, peeking through the bars to watch, "you give him a sugar cube?"

Ford glances at me over his shoulder with his signature scowl that his beard does nothing to hide. The man takes care of a lot of shit on the ranch. Our head hand and adoptive son of Dot.

"No," he grumbles, "that damn temp vet fed him enough earlier during his physical."

I frown, "he still favoring that back leg?"

Ford nods, "that old hag said it'll be swollen for a few weeks if we keep running him with the others."

"He's agitated." I say watching the horse paw at the ground, his hoof dragging along the hay floor.

"That makes two of us." He removes the lead from Nash's head and steps back, "stubborn asshole."

I huff out a laugh, "you'd think that would make you two get along."

Ford narrows his dark eyes at me as he closes the bay door. "Funny."

"Did the boys deal with the neighbors?" I ask.

"Bode said they were cooking again, but the fireworks last weekend weren't fireworks. The trailer exploded."

"So the neighbors dealt with themselves?" I sigh and Ford nods. "We need to get that back six property under our control." The acreage behind the ranch is vacant and is constantly invaded by lowlife drug runners and the occasional band of travelers starting fires and getting drunk.

"Dot can't afford to pick it up, with Twelve Acres picking up business we're losing cattle income," Ford explains. The new ranch outside of Kingston was newer, purchased by a fancy company that didn't have values or morals. Their waste was already polluting the surrounding areas and if I had it my way, we should be causing trouble. Running them off.

But Ford won't go against Dot's wishes, and she believes we can win the cattle race by doing what we do best. Running the ranch as a family. The need to protect it with violence thrums quietly through my bloodstream every time Twelve Acres comes into conversation.

"I'll send Bode and Peter to check out the auction, to get a feel for how much inventory they're pulling in. We'll figure it out, Cassidy," Ford says. His gaze flickers to the folder clutched in my hand and tosses it a nod, "that's what your brother wanted?"

The timing couldn't have been worse.

"It's a new case," I say flatly.

He raises a brow, "that bad."

"Logan Shepard."

I stare at him, waiting for the inevitable no but so far he's quiet and I'm not sure what irks me more. "Cam pulled a favor with the judge and put her in the program. It's either this or jail."

"So jail it is," He finally says, "I'm not having another Shepard on my ranch, Crew. It's not happening. The ranch barely survived it last time."

"She was a kid then Ford, so were we." I remind him. Too often this town turns gossip to the truth and unfortunately in Logan's case, more of that gossip is the actual truth. But I know there are rumors about her family that aren't true. Ones that Cam still struggles with.

"Clearly the apple hasn't fallen far from the tree." He turns from me and heads towards the corrals, "Tell your brother he needs to talk to Abott and get her transferred to something else. Preferably as far away from this land as possible."

"She needs help," I call after him when he doesn't stop. My feet carry me in his direction, ignoring the fact that I'm repeating the same words my brother did not twenty minutes ago.

"Why?" He huffs, grabbing the saddle off of the fence, "because your brother has a soft spot for charity cases?" Ford shakes his head, "This program is for people who actually need help, Crew."

Frustration flares in my chest. Does he think I don't know that? I created this program and it didn't start just because I wanted to help people. I had to help myself first.

I dig the heel of my boots into the soft dirt, the tags around my neck burning against my chest as I stare back at him and square my shoulders, "I'm taking her case." I grind out. I can take a lot of shit from a lot of people and my patience isn't tested very easily, but even Ford's stubborn head gets to me. "I didn't come over here to ask your permission, I came over here to tell you that I'm helping her whether you like it or not."

He attempts to level me with a sideways glare but it does nothing except raise my hackles. "She has a kid and no one else."

I see a flicker of something softer in his eyes, but it's brief and by the time I blink it's gone. Yeah, I hit a sore spot, a low blow even but if it means that I don't have to listen to his shit for the next twelve months about her, then I'll continue to remind him.

Ford shakes his head and walks past me, taking the saddle to the racks just inside the barn. I don't dare move. C'mon, I silently urge. He reappears with a scowl on his face and drags a hand through long dark hair.

"If it brings any trouble, Cassidy, that Shepard girl is gone." He huffs.

I don't know why but I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. It'll be a hard promise to make if I'm right about the anger I saw in her photo but I meet his gaze anyway and nod. "Fine."

"Tell the guys." Ford demands, "I don't need any pissed off hands making trouble either because of her."

"Done."

"It's been too long out, you're getting soft, Cassidy." Ford's tone is tight but I know he's teasing. It's been a long hard road adjusting back into day to day life. There's not a day that goes by that my mind doesn't slip into the formulaic motions of military life. But that wasn't who I was anymore.

"Maybe you're getting too hard, Lawson." I wave him off.

He narrows his eyes at me again, it's quick but I see it. I know he's wondering the same thing I am.

Why am I giving her a chance? But then I think of her little boy, the one with the smile like a ray of sunshine and every doubt I have, every rumor I've heard about her disappears like a bullet in the wind.

I won't make it easy on her. Truth be told, I'll probably make her life a living hell but if it means her boy doesn't grow up motherless even for a day, I'll do it tenfold.