drove the firewood back down the hill.
Cash and Gunner sat in the shade and drank water while they waited for River to arrive with Boo. When she got there, the three of them separated the orphaned calves from the herd. They had all the calves' numbers from Austin, who knew exactly which calves belong to which cows by their tags, and they took the six orphans down to the barn to be bottle-fed until they were ready to return to the herd.
“Such a horrible thing to do,” River said as they drove the truck and trailer down the bumpy hill.
“It certainly is,” Cash said.
Gunner sat in the back of the crew cab, staring out at the forest as they inched their way down the hill. He felt a sharp sense of guilt that his love had brought this upon them, but his only other choice would have been to let her go. How could he ever do that?
He'd been busy all day, first waiting for the sheriff to arrive at the scene then everything they'd had to do to clean up the mess. He hadn't checked his text messages. When he pulled his phone out of his pocket, he expected to see a message from Cassidy, but there was nothing.
He texted her, asking her how she was and how things had gone back at the McCoy ranch. He stared at the text display, expecting the bubbles to come up any second, but he was still staring at the app when they made it back down to the barn and had to unload the calves.
“Gunner!” Cash yelled. “I need your help.”
Gunner snapped out of his worry, shoved his phone in his pocket, and went to help his brother and River. When they had the calves in the barn, Cash and River prepared milk bottles for them, and Gunner stole another moment to check his messages. He sent her another message.
Are you okay? I'm starting to worry.
For a moment, he considered maybe she had changed her mind about him and didn't want to speak to him. But he knew in his heart that couldn't be true. He and Cassidy had come to an understanding, and he knew they would have mated if they hadn't been interrupted earlier that morning.
She couldn't have changed her mind that fast. He would never believe it. He felt a sense of dread wash over him, as if something bad had happened.
River pushed a bottle of milk into his chest, breaking him out of his worried thoughts. “Come on,” she said with a smile.
“Okay.”
“I know you're worried about your mate,” she said in a low voice. “I'm sure everything will work out okay.”
“I hope so,” he said.
He took the bottle down to the stall where a calf was housed and held it through the fence slats. The calf didn't understand what it was until Gunner held its chin and squirted milk into its mouth. It took several tries to get the calf to take the rubber nipple, but finally it started to eat.
“It's a good thing these calves are almost ready to wean,” Cash said. “It's a lot of extra work to bottle-feed them.”
Once the calves were fed and watered, Gunner bowed out for the day and made his way back home. The sun was fading in the western sky, and the air was finally cooling off.
He sat in his air-conditioned kitchen, staring at his phone and barely eating his dinner. He had no appetite. Cassidy still hadn't replied. He knew in his gut that something was wrong, and he wanted to go over to the McCoys' ranch and confront them. But he knew that if he did that, he would hear no end to it from his brothers.
The deputy sheriff had specifically told them to stay away from the McCoys during the investigation, so Gunner was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He felt so powerless. He had to protect his mate—he knew something was wrong—but doing so would bring the law down on him and his brothers.
“Cassidy, where are you?” he asked. If he didn't hear from her soon, he would have to take matters into his own hands no matter the consequence.
11
Cassidy opened her window and yelled out into the yard, screaming for someone to help.
Her brother was down in the driveway and yelled up at her. “No one can hear you!” He sneered.
“This is a new low. I'm ashamed to be part of this family,” she said.
He laughed at her and threw