The SEAL's Secret Heirs(19)

Spencer didn’t flinch but neither did he nod and play along. He spun on his heel and disappeared into the barn with a backhanded wave. Kyle considered it a win that the man hadn’t flipped him a one-fingered salute as a bonus.

Now that the unpleasantness was out of the way, Kyle nodded at the two hands the ranch manager had singled out as his lieutenants, one of whom had fifty pounds on him. That one must be Slim. It was the kind of joke cowboys seemed to like. Kyle would probably be jarhead until the day he died after a recounting of his showdown with Danny Spencer made the gossip rounds.

“You boys have a problem working for me?” he asked them both.

Slim’s expression was nothing short of hostile, but he and Johnny both shook their heads and swung up on their horses, trotting obediently after Kyle as he headed north toward the pasture where the cattle he was supposed to herd were grazing.

Then he just needed to figure out how to do it. Without alienating anyone else. Oh, and without falling off his horse. And without letting on to anyone that his leg was on fire already after less than thirty minutes in the saddle.

The north pasture came into view. Finally. It was still exactly where it had been ten years ago, but it felt as though it had taken a million years to get there, especially given the tense silence between Kyle and the two hands. Cattle dotted the wide swath of Wade land like black shadows against the green grass, spread as far as the eye could see, even wandering aimlessly into a copse of trees in the distance.

That was not good. He’d envisioned the cattle being easy to round up because they were all more or less in the same place. Instead, he and the hands had a very long task ahead of them to gather up the beasts, who may or may not have wanted to be gathered.

“How many?” he called over his shoulder to Johnny.

“A few hundred.” Johnny repeated verbatim the vague number Danny Spencer had rattled off earlier.

He’d mellowed out some and had actually spoken to Kyle without growling. Slim, not so much. The man held a serious grudge that wouldn’t be easily remedied. No big thing. They didn’t have to like each other. Just work together.

“How many exactly?” Kyle asked again as patiently as possible. “We have to know if we have them all before we head back.”

Johnny looked at him cockeyed as if Kyle had started speaking in tongues and thrown around a couple of snakes in the baptismal on a Sunday morning. “We just round ’em up and aim toward the barn. Nothing more to it than that.”

“Maybe not before. But today, we’re going to make sure we have full inventory before we make the trek.” Kyle couldn’t do it more than once. There was no way. “Liam didn’t happen to invest in GPS, did he?”

Slim and Johnny exchanged glances. “Uh...what?”

“Satellite. RFID chips. You embed the chips in the cow’s brand, for example, and use a GPS program to triangulate the chips. Technology to locate and count cattle.” At the blank looks he received in response, Kyle gave up. “I’ll take that as a no.”

That would be Kyle’s first investment as head of the cattle division at Wade Ranch. RFID chips would go a long way toward inventorying livestock that ran tame across hundreds of acres. That was how the military kept track of soldiers and supplies, after all. Seemed like a no-brainer to do the same with valuable livestock. He wondered why Liam hadn’t done it already.

“All right, then.” Kyle sighed. “Let’s do this.”

The three men rode hard for a couple of hours, driving the cattle toward the gate, eventually feeling confident that they had them all. Kyle had to accept the eyeball guesstimate from Slim and Johnny, who had “done this a couple of times.” Both thought the number of bodies seemed about right. Since Kyle wasn’t experienced enough to argue, he nodded and let the experts guide them home.

It was exhausting and invigorating at the same time. This was his land. His cattle. His men, despite the lack of welcome.

But when he got back to the cattle barn, Liam was waiting for him, arms crossed and a livid expression on his face.

“What now?” Kyle slid from his horse, keeping a tight grip on the pommel until he was sure his leg would support him.

“Danny Spencer quit.” Liam fairly spat. “And walked out without even an hour’s notice. Said he’d rather eat manure than work for you. Nice going.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” God’s honest truth. The relief was huge. “He doesn’t want to work for me? Fine. Better that he’s gone.”

Liam pulled Kyle away from the multitude of hands swarming the area by the barn, probably all with perked-up ears, hoping to catch more details about the unfolding drama.