Dame, the big brown quarter horse, grunted in her stall as Leland entered the barn. She was an experienced twelve-year-old who knew her way around the herd. He remembered her from when he’d come home for a few months after the war, seven years ago.

He saddled her up and made his way outside. Leland squinted in the sunlight as the rainclouds parted in the distance, leaving a yellow-gray cast over the land. His brothers had said the herd was in the northern pasture by the river. The saturated spring ground was muddy under Dame’s feet as they made their way down the hill.

Walking out into the muddy pasture, he found plenty of hoof prints but no cattle. His heart sank and started to slam in his chest. He was a rancher, born and bred, even if his brothers had given up on their family’s heritage; he had not.

He whistled for the herd, trying to spot heads or tails of them. As he encouraged Dame through the pasture, he heard a muted moo off in the distance, coming from down by the river. He turned Dame’s head and followed the sound coming to the fence line. Following the fence line, he stopped at a huge break in the barbed wire lines. Dismounting Dame, he gritted his teeth and moved closer to inspect the wire.

The line had clearly been cut. Three neat clips had been made by wire cutters at some point. Nothing natural made cuts that clean. Leland looked around, his mind racing. Who the hell would cut his father’s fences? He got back on Dame and started down to the river on the other side of the fence. It was muddier and rougher terrain on the other side, but soon he found the herd.

His family’s herd of black Angus cattle were standing by the raging river in at least six inches of mud. Leland’s chest clenched. It was worse than he’d feared. He growled to himself as he walked Dame past one of the new mothers who was nursing her baby calf. He dismounted and knelt to inspect the mother from a distance. The herd was used to horses and men and the momma cow didn’t balk at his proximity. Not that it would have made much difference. The damage was already done.

They had wet hoof and it was going to get really bad in about six seconds if he didn’t get them somewhere dry. Even the northern pasture was too muddy, let alone the river bank. He knew the high pasture to the south near the road should be nice and dry, but he didn’t know if the fence line was intact. Something strange was going on at the ranch.

He rode up to the barn and dismounted Dame, looking across to the machine shop. Neither Jessie nor Buck were anywhere in sight, and the timber harvester was gone, along with one of Jessie’s dirt bikes. Leland gritted his teeth and went to the barn, leaving Dame tied to a hitching post. He went into a side room where his dad kept veterinary equipment. The herd was going to need about a metric ton of medicine. Leland looked in the mini-fridge and found a few dog vaccines. Not helpful.

He closed the mini-fridge door and grumbled again. He’d have to special order it from the feed store. When he came back outside, he heard the distinct sound of a dirt bike motor jumping over something somewhere in the distance. He looked at his horse and shook his head. Jessie was off playing on his dirt bike. Buck was up in the mountain cutting timber. God only knew where Cyrus was. And the herd was sitting down in the muddiest place on Timber Bear Ranch!

“Come on, Dame. Let’s see about this fence line.”

He mounted up and started to the southern pasture. It was about fifteen acres of high ground with mature spring grass. Perfect for the cattle to dry their feet and get more nutrients in their bodies. He rode Dame around the outer parameter of the barbed-wire fence and found three sections of weak fencing and one where the line had completely snapped. But none of it looked cut like the line down in the northern pasture.

He knew there weren’t any fencing supplies in the barn. He’d have to get those from the feed store too. The dollar signs were adding up and he’d only been in charge of Timber Bear Ranch for forty-five minutes.

Leland had been managing a ranch in Texas since he got back from serving in the war seven years ago. No matter what his brothers thought of his decision, Leland didn’t feel he’d had a choice. He and his dad had been butting heads for years before the war and after they all got back, it had gotten even worse. He’d been offered a job in Texas as the lead cowboy at one of the biggest old ranches in the country. It was a hard job to pass up.

He’d enjoyed his work, and he’d learned an awful lot from his time there. Unlike at home, he’d had total control of the herd. He’d been able to really be himself working in Texas.

His dad making him Alpha of the ranch had come as a major surprise. He couldn’t even believe it at first. Part of him didn’t feel he deserved the ranch. It had been his family’s home for the last five generations, and the opportunity to run his own land again was impossible to pass up. He loved his home and he’d sincerely missed his brothers. Sometimes. Well, most of the time, if truth be told. He’d even missed his father, the stubborn old coot.

He still couldn’t believe his dad died. The man was a rock, and had been a legend among bears. Leland gripped his own heart as he rode Dame toward the herd.

He might not be able to get the cattle into the southern pasture, but he could get them into the barn paddocks. They could stay there until he got the fences fixed and it would give him an opportunity to give them the shots they’d need to heal. He herded the cattle up to the paddocks and threw them a few dozen bales of hay to tide them over.

Back in the barn, he took off Dame’s saddle and gave her a rub down before heading out to his truck. He hadn’t even unpacked the things he’d brought with him from Texas. Now, he was in charge of Timber Bear Ranch.

It wasn’t a minute too soon.