The Cattle Drive [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Rebecca Joyce

have to get going. I will stop by later this week to see how the farm is going,” Chris said, tipping his hat to the ladies as he left the store.
    Michael paid for his supplies and headed out of town. It didn’t take long once he hit the main road back to his house before he realized why he didn’t want Henry working for Rachael. It wasn’t that he had issues with his son working hard. It was the fact that the work was on a ranch. There was no way in hell his son was ever going to become a rancher.
    Before he knew it, he passed his house and was heading straight for Rachael’s. He stopped in front of the house and got out to find Henry driving across the field toward him. He stood there with his hand on his hips when Henry stopped.
    “Hey, Dad, what brings you out to Rachael’s?”
    “Henry, what are you doing here?”
    “I was asking Rachael for a summer job. Hey, Dad, did you know this is a cattle ranch?”
    “Yeah, I know. Where is she?” Michael asked, getting angrier by the minute.
    “She is about three miles that way,” Henry said, pointing in the general vicinity.
    “That’s east, Henry,” Michael said, getting in his truck and starting the engine.
    But before he could put it in drive, Henry yelled, “Dad, if you’re going out there, she said my butt better be on a horse. I don’t think she likes vehicles out on her land. I think she doesn’t want any engine fluid getting on the ground.”
    “You go home and wait for me.”
    “You all right, Dad? You look mad.”
    “Now, Henry!” Michael yelled as he got out of his truck once again. He watched his son drive away. The thought of Henry working on a cattle ranch was still bothering him. He knew that Henry was raised a city boy. Hell, the boy had never been on a horse, but working on a cattle drive was a far reach even for Henry.
    Looking over her property, he saw the cattlemen going about their business, working hard. Exhausted to the bone, they all looked older than they were supposed to be. Their faces were tanned and looked of old leather, hands callused over, the grunts of too much exertion taking its toll on their bodies. Watching everything, Michael remembered his life on Crossfire Ranch.
    Too many nights he would come home with bleeding blisters, sore backs, and aches no man should ever have to endure. He remembered the hard days and tough nights standing watch—the rustling, the branding, and the yelling.
    The anger came out of nowhere.
    Michael was furious.
    Over his dead body would his son ever work a cattle ranch. He quickly turned to find a very bulky ranch hand galloping up on a beautiful speckled Appaloosa. Michael walked over to him.
    “I need to borrow your horse.”
    “Excuse me,” the man said in a low tone.
    “I need to see Rachael Mason, now!”
    “Well, sir, I can’t give you my horse, but if you follow me, I will saddle up a filly for you.”
    “I know how to saddle a horse. Where is it?”
    “In the barn. Over there,” the man said, pointing to the barn off behind the house.
    Michael quickly found a horse and had it saddled in no time, and before the ranch hand could say anything, Michael was on top of the horse, riding fast out into the open field.
     
    * * * *
     
    The ranch hand quickly grabbed his walkie-talkie. “Hey, boss lady, you there?”
    “Brutus, what did I say about you calling me that?”
    “Sorry, boss lady, but I thought I would let you know that some man was here, and he saddled up Jasper. He is headed your way, and he is madder than hell.”
    “You let someone what?” Rachael screamed into the walkie-talkie, letting it drop to the ground below. Grabbing the reins quickly, she kicked Mystic into a full run.
    She saw him riding fast toward her in the distance. They were almost to each other when she quickly stopped her horse and dismounted in a furry.
    “Who the hell do you think you are? What gives you the right to take a ride on any of my horses?” she said, walking up to him and screaming at