“It’s five miles to the last rest stop before we hit Reno-Sparks,” says my best friend and longtime firefighter co-worker, Deuce. He’s riding shotgun, pulling his weight as the navigator in my SUV’s prime seat. Deuce has been damn good company, but it’s not enough. This trip is like one of those bad dreams you think you’ll never fucking wake up from. The kind where you’re stuck in a car with miles and miles of road stretched out in front of your tires. You can’t quite remember where you’re going or how long you’ve been traveling. You can’t figure out why you started the fucking trip, to begin with.

Okay, I’m exaggerating a little. This moving trip’s not that much torture, but it’s fucking close.

I arch my back and stretch out my left leg to ease the stiffness in my body. The tingling running up and down the back of my calf subsides a bit, but it’s still there. I’m not even going to think of checking the time on the dashboard. All these hours in this seat are enough. Beyond that, it’s all the same: brutal.

The only consolation this last hour or so is that the radio’s picking up a decent country music station that Deuce found. We’re on the road because we have to be. My entire family, along with Deuce and his daughter, Sandy, are moving from Austin to the Reno-Sparks area, where my mother grew up. For Deuce, it’s been a few years in the making. His father’s a retired firefighter and was working his leads for a while to secure a transfer for Deuce.

For my family, if my mother were still alive, she would’ve inherited her grandfather’s cattle ranch when he died a few months ago. My older brother, Cody, me, and my younger siblings, Connie and Carter, all ended up being named as equal beneficiaries. The inheritance was all well and good, but no amount of effort worked to manage it remotely. And that was the strange thing. According to all the books, the business was profitable right up until my great-grandfather passed. All of a sudden, the place was bleeding money. It didn’t fucking add up, which is why Cody and I agreed that it was best to move the family out west. It took some time, but a few weeks ago, Deuce’s father came through for us. We jumped at the chance to be firefighters with the Reno Fire Department.

In the seat behind me, my son, Logan, lets out a groan and rakes his fingers through his dark blonde hair. “Are we there yet, Daddy? It’s so boring in here. And there’s no room to move in this small seat.”

“Quit complaining, kid,” Deuce tells him. “It’s an SUV, so it’s not small, just packed up a bit in the back. You know, you kinda sound like you’re four.”

“But I am four, Uncle Deuce,” he giggles, then turns to me. “Aren’t you tired, Daddy?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’ll whine about it like a little g—” I start to say, but cut the sexist reference just in time. I have no goddamned right to talk like this in front of the three females in the SUV with us. My daughter, Lacy, is Logan’s fraternal twin sister. She’s been seated in the same row as my son for this leg of the trip.

Deuce’s daughter, Sandy, also four, sits behind Logan with my younger sister, Connie. To get in on the conversation, she leans her head between the middle seats where Logan and Lacy sit.

“Are you two hungry?” she asks my kids.

Connie’s the closest thing my children and Sandy have to a mother. Logan and Lacy’s mother died when they were eighteen months old. Leukemia took her from us in the blink of an eye. Sandy’s mother, well, she’s a whole other story. She became dependent on drugs and alcohol less than a year after Sandy was born. Deuce had been through hell before he finally took Sandy and moved out. The woman practically abandoned her little one. Which is why Deuce and I have never been more committed to being the best fathers out there. Sure, our twenty-four-hour shifts as firefighters make things tougher. And I have to keep working on my filthy firehouse mouth, but I try.

“The food is so boring,” Logan continues to whine.

“We’ll be at the next stop in a few minutes, kiddo. Hang tight and have a bite of whatever your aunt Connie gives you.”

“But it’s all the same stuff! Juice boxes, animal crackers, baby carrots, and sandwiches. Lacy thinks so too, Daddy.”

Lacy looks at me through the rearview mirror and shakes her head. “No, I don’t. I like animal crackers. Can I have some more?”

“Meanie,” Logan grumbles, and stretches across their row, tapping one finger on her temple. He must have learned this in a cartoon or something recently, because I’ve never seen him finger-shove his sister. Punch, yes. Push, a lot. Finger-shove, never.

“Stop it!” Lacy shouts. She swats his hand away and makes herself smaller in her seat so he can’t reach her.

They say twins have an unbreakable bond, but for the most part, Logan and Lacy have a never-ending desire to step on each other’s last nerves. It’s not the only thing they have in common. With their identical hair color, same oval-shaped faces and hazel eyes, they call into question the scientific fact that opposite gender twins are fraternal and can’t be doppelgangers.

“If you two keep this up, I’m separating you for the last stretch,” I say as a reminder. “Your uncle Carter’s pickup truck is still behind us. It still has enough seats to keep you two apart…and quiet.” I point my right thumb back at my brother’s burgundy Ford F-150 following us on the interstate. Behind his vehicle is my older brother, Cody. He’s driving the moving truck and hauling his pickup truck behind it. Deuce had an old pickup truck, but he decided to sell in Austin so he can buy something new in Reno.

“It also still has Willie Nelson playing on repeat,” Connie points out.

“Don’t knock The Shotgun.”

In the rearview mirror, I see her roll her eyes. “It’s kind of hard to appreciate any song when it plays on the radio twenty times in one day, let alone one of the oldies.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and check the screen. It’s Cody.

“Hey,” Connie complains. “Eyes on the road, please.”

“It’s the brother who’s looked out for you for years. The one you’re dissing at the moment. Remember him?” I swipe the screen and press the phone to my ear. “Hey.”

“Do you think there’s any point stopping for lunch when we’re this close?”

“Definitely. The kids need a break.”

“The next exit, then?”

“Yeah. Getting off now.”

“Great,” Cody says and hangs up.

Flipping up the right turn signal lever, I exit off the I-80, entering a little town east of Sparks called Lockwood, mere miles from our final destination. A gas station and truck stop are right off the highway. There’s an all-day diner too. Perfect. I turn into the wide driveway and find a tractor-trailer parking spot with enough extra spaces beside it for Cody and Carter.

The midday sun glints off of the unfamiliar piles of snow between the buildings and what’s shoved up against the back of the property. It strikes me in the eyes and makes me squint. We rarely get snow in Austin, but this kind of weather in a western desert town is still strange to me. Never mind that Reno and Lake Tahoe are known for their powder-like snow that’s ideal for skiing.

Cody steers the moving truck to my left, and Carter gets in on my right, taking a sharp turn that makes a crunching noise as one of the truck wheels rolls over a mound of ice.

“Watch it!” Connie shouts to warn him as she helps the kids out on my side of the SUV. “All our delicate stuff is back there.”

Carter ignores her, jumping out of the pickup truck. “Think they have chicken fried steak here?” he asks no one in particular.

“Not a chance,” Deuce answers.

Just the indirect reference to Austin makes my chest ache. We’ve barely left, and I’m already homesick. I unbuckle my seatbelt and catch sight of Cody, still sitting in his driver seat. His head’s hanging as he absently stares down at his lap. He gave up a lot to make this move. His bake shop, Cody’s Cake Corner, was his pride and joy. And he left Dina behind too. She was his off-and-on girlfriend, and wasn’t as keen to pick up and make a big move with him. The news that our oldest relative had died and left us the family cattle ranch came with its fair share of conflict. Cody has never said it out loud, but I know he’s not the most thrilled about the move. Connie and Carter were more excited about venturing into something new. Some might say that being in his thirties and financially set, Cody could have stayed back. But my older brother would never think of letting this family split up. The four of us have our differences sometimes, but we all agree on one thing. Family comes first.

No matter what.

My steel-toe boots hit the asphalt with a smack. Fuck, it feels good to stretch my legs. It’s also cold as fuck, but we noticed the chill as soon as we turned west off the I-95 at Fernley. The twins rush ahead of me with Connie, stopping at the front door to the diner. Cody ambles out of the minivan. He looks as sore as I feel.

“Only about another half-hour,” he says, widening his chest in an upper body stretch. “Maybe less, if traffic stays the same.”

“It’s the lunch hour on a Monday. Shouldn’t be too bad.”

He gives me a tight smile as he swings the diner door open. I can tell he’s anxious to get to the ranch and take stock of what the fuck is going on. And he’s probably missing his custom kitchen and all that baking instead of driving across almost two thousand miles over four fucking days. I’m grateful to have a job to walk into. Given that I have kids, stable work is mandatory. Carter and Connie have to start from scratch, but as Carter has a teaching degree in high school math, he can find a job anywhere all over again. Connie wants to open her own pastry shop one day, so she’s been working with Cody for years. And for now, she’ll help Deuce and me with the kids while we’re on shift.

We step inside and find that the interior is nicer than I’d expect for a mom and pop diner on the edge of an interstate in a small town like this. The vinyl booths shine like they were installed yesterday. The counters are clean, and the décor is bright. We settle into one of two side-by-side tables, and a waitress comes by to drop off our menus and take our beverage orders. The kids quickly entertain themselves using the coloring sheets and a tub of crayons that the waitress drops off with our sodas and juices. Soon, our food orders arrive.

Because Deuce and I are firefighters, we only eat at one speed. Extra fast. We’re called to respond to emergencies in record time, so the habit of being ready to go is ingrained in us. It’s near impossible to shut off just because we’re not working. This meal is no different. Our plates are clean before Lacy has put her third French fry in her mouth. Cody’s had a third of his burger. Placing my paper napkin on top of my plate, I stretch out my legs under the table and lean back. We’ll be here for a while.

A few minutes pass, with light conversation about getting to the ranch, setting up the beds, and finally sleeping in. Deuce plans to live with his parents for a few weeks while he finds a house for him and Sandy. Cody and I steer the conversation away from anything financial, or about the state of the ranch. We don’t need everyone worried. Plus, the kids are around. Connie tells us she’s been looking online for a part-time gig in South Reno. Carter does his thing, talking about giving trail rides around the ranch during the summers when he’s not teaching.

“Tourists will love it,” he says. “They swarm Lake Tahoe in the summer. It’s tons of people looking to get away from cities and do stuff outdoors.”

It’s not a bad idea, but the reality is we all need to keep our options and schedules open to help out with the ranch. Priorities come before all the frills.

Cody’s phone rings while we’re bouncing ideas around.

“It’s Jameson,” he announces after checking the screen.

“Who?” my daughter asks from behind a giant coloring sheet with a picture of a pig in a chef’s outfit.

“Never mind. The adults are talking,” I tell her. Jameson is the cattle ranch manager, so she doesn’t need to know about that. She’s curious, that little one. She can already read at a grade one level, according to her daycare worker.

Cody’s lips tighten and his blond eyebrows push together. We haven’t gotten to the ranch yet, and already the stress is eating him up. Handing off his cake store to new owners, putting our house up for sale, and packing up everything we own nearly made him change his mind. He needs to finally take a deep breath. Soon.

He swipes the answer button and asks Jameson to hold, then looks up at me, Carter and Deuce. “Let’s take this outside.”

It must be some detail from a prior conversation with Jameson that has puts Cody on edge, to the extent that he wants Carter, Deuce and me to hear this call. We follow him out the front door.

“Everything good?” he asks Jameson after tapping on the speakerphone.

“Oh yeah. How are the roads?”

“Not bad. We’re about half an hour out. Having a bite in Lockwood.”

Cody catches my eye, and I mouth the question, “What the hell does he want now?”

He gives me a quick nod. He has it under control.

But that’s not the case. Cody’s been running the show, playing his role as patriarch of the family for over a decade since Dad died. His switch is turned to the ‘on’ position twenty-four seven. Cody probably doesn’t know how to relax at this point.

“What’s up?” he asks.

A rumbling sigh travels through the line. “I wish I could say it was all good. The cattle shipment that was due today won’t be coming in till next month.”

“What’s the issue?”

“The breeder said some of the heifers got ill and had to be put down. They’re being replaced.”

“Can you order the rest from somewhere else?”

“I already paid for this batch. And that’s not the only thing. I didn’t want to wait to tell you this next part. I went over my records again like you asked. Everything’s accurate. The numbers are right on, down to the penny.”

“That’s strange,” Cody answers. “My accountant doesn’t believe it’s adding up.”

“In what way?”

“We’ll sit down and go over them face to face in a few days. There’s no point going over the books on the phone when we’re so close now. We’ll get ourselves settled in over the next few days. Sometime after that, we can sit down and look at everything.”

“Sounds good to me,” he answers through a tight, cracking voice.

I remind myself to be calm. I’d like nothing more than to reach through my brother’s fucking phone and strangle this guy. If anyone’s behind the hit our ranch has taken over the last few months, it’s this fucker. My brother’s eyes agree, but he’s a shit ton calmer and infinitely more politically correct than I’ll ever be.

“Well, thanks for the heads up,” Cody says, and ends the call.

“Fucker’s got some nerve,” Carter grunts.

“Let’s see him try it in person,” I add, my blood already boiling. “You see what he’s doing, right? The son of a bitch is spoon-feeding us this shit because he knows we’ll find out everything by the time we get there. For all you know, he’ll be long gone by then.”

Cody grunts and shoves his phone into his pocket. “Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out. This shit happens with a lot of businesses. You know, the mice play when the cat’s away, and all that crap.”

“It never happened with your cake business,” Carter tells him.

“That’s because, well, there’s the obvious. My ticker’s still at it. The cake shop is also my baby. I mean was. I would’ve been there twenty-four-seven if I didn’t need sleep and a good fuck every once in a while. The ranch just needs more attention.”

“Right,” I agree.

Cody points at the front door again. “I’m gonna finish that sandwich. God knows what state we’ll find great-gramps’ house in. I’m sure I’ll need to hose down the kitchen either way.”

Hearing about trouble with the ranch makes me antsy to get there. Problems pile up as they come. If we don’t take care of them right away, we’ll be eyeballs deep in a mountain of shit in no time at all.

And none of us can afford that outcome.

Carter follows him inside, but Deuce taps me on the shoulder. “I’ll be out here for a bit,” he says, and subtly gestures for me to take a look at the edge of the parking lot.

I turn to look.

That’s when I see the reason Deuce wants to stay outside.

A woman I’ve never met before is heading in our direction.

As she gets closer, I see that she’s wearing a piece of jewelry dangling from her wrist, and it calls for our undivided attention.