Beck rested a hand against the sturdy material, running a thumb along the leather. The bridle hung limply from the shelf, deep brown in color with a tooled paisley design. His eyes drifted to the price tag, frowning softly. He pulled his hand away, letting it drop to rest at his side; he forced himself to turn down another aisle.

He stopped halfway, crouching down to eye a particular horse feed. He bit his lip, wrapping his arms around the middle of the large bag. Moving to stand, he placed a quick hand at the bottom to keep the bag at his hip.

"Hey—" Cassidy began, sliding into the aisle after spotting him. The younger stopped beside him, eyeing the bag. "Why'd you have to get the expensive shit?"

"And feed 'em what you bought last time?" Beck reeled his head back, scoffing quietly. "Gave half the stable colic on that shit."

"Fine." Cassidy sniffed, lifting up a pair of jeans in his grip. "You wanna buy me these?"

"Where's your prize money from last week?" Beck furrowed his brows, shifting his feet.
"Had to fix up the truck." He supplied, before growing a little sheepish. "And, I took Maya on a date."

"Burning a hole through your pocket." Beck muttered, shouldering past the younger. "And I'm not buying you that."
"Seriously?" Cassidy moved to keep up behind his brother, eyes widening in surprise.

Beck shook his head, but kept his gaze forward. He moved toward the register, watching the clerk quietly ring up his item. He could feel Cassidy's burning gaze at the back of his head as he payed, steeling himself before moving to leave.

He pushed the door open with his hip, eyes squinting under the setting sun. The store bell jingled again as Cassidy caught the door behind him, stalking after the other.
"You've turned into kind of an asshole." Cassidy muttered from across the short distance between them, turning to get into the driver's side.

Beck didn't reply, opening the back door to set the bag of feed on the floor behind Cassidy's seat. He shut the door, jogging around the truck to climb into the passenger side.

They allowed an uncomfortable silence to fill the void between them as Cassidy turned the ignition over, pulling out of the parking lot.
"Dad wants us up earlier tomorrow." Cassidy spoke up, looking to his left as he turned onto a busy street. "Needs help with doing somethin' to the Duttons."

"Jesus Christ," Beck murmured quietly in exasperation, leaning back in his seat.
"What?" Cassidy bit out, annoyed. "Don't want to hurt your new buddies?"

"I think I remember being against this from the beginning." The older man pointed out, moving forward to switch the air conditioning on.

"Don't touch my shit." Cassidy grumbled, reaching a hand to turn the cool air off.
Beck eyed the infotainment center, scoffing quietly. He shook his head, moving to take off his jacket and set it at his feet.

"Look," Cassidy began. "This fuckin' pacifist crap? It's not funny, never was." He raised a hand in the air as they turned down a dirt road. Beck moved to grip at the grab handle on the roof of the truck, frowning at how fast the other was driving.

"You think I find it funny?" Beck furrowed his brows, baffled.
"You tell me." Cassidy demanded, voice rising.
"Okay," Beck chuckled softly in awe, turning to face the other with narrowed eyes. "This shit you're set on doing? It's illegal."
"They're on our land, Beck, that's fucking illegal." Cassidy reminded, seemingly smug.

"All of it's illegal." Beck responded, narrowing his eyes, staring out the windshield. "So far it's trespassing and shooting a dog, but it's gonna escalate from there."
"Good." The younger spoke.

"You're a child." Beck muttered.

The truck skidded to a stop, tire treads grappling onto loose dirt and rocks underneath them. Beck was pitched into the dashboard, throwing his hands out to brace himself. He recovered slowly, leaning back and resting shaky hands on his lap before turning to look at his brother.

The younger kept his eyes forward, hands gripping the steering wheel earnestly. Cassidy let a hand drop to the gearshift, putting it into park before opening the door, climbing out of the truck.
"What—" Beck murmured, brows furrowed. "What are you doing?"

Cassidy opened the back door, grabbing the top of the feed bag and tugging it toward himself. He stepped back, allowing the bag to topple onto the dirt.

"Cassidy," Beck muttered in reprimand, mild annoyance filtering into his tone. "Cassidy," He tried again as the other ignored him, shutting the back door. Beck glared at the dashboard, throwing his door open and rounding the back of the truck to meet his brother.

"What the hell are you doing?" Beck huffed, gripping at Cassidy's shoulder, forcing the younger to turn around and face him.

"Get off me!" Cassidy jerked his arm away, moving to wrench the driver's side door open.

"Just going to leave this here?" The blond bit out.

"You don't gotta worry about that." Cassidy shrugged, climbing into the truck. "I'm leaving you here with it."

Beck's eyes narrowed, expression growing darker. He heard the resounding click of the doors locking before his hand darted out to grip handle. He tugged at it, the latch uselessly rattling.

"This isn't funny." He muttered through the partially rolled-up window.

"I'm not laughing." Cassidy gripped the gearshift, eyes lifting to the windshield.

"Unlock the door." Beck ordered.

Cassidy set a hand atop the steering wheel, other moving toward the toggle for the window. The other man helplessly slammed the edge of his fist against the glass in frustration.

"Open the door, Cassidy." His voice rose, biting back a curse as the pickup jerked forward. He jumped away, the truck's front tire glancing past the toe of his boot.

Beck watched the plume of dirt kick up from behind the truck, trailing softly into the air as the vehicle journeyed down the road, minus a passenger.
His eyes dropped down to the dusty earth as he allowed his eyelids to fall closed for just a moment of reprieve. He let out a tired breath out through his nose, opening his weary eyes.

A worn boot kicked its square toe softly against the horse feed as Beck frowned down at it. He sighed softly, reluctantly leaning down to wrap his arms around the bag, and hoisting himself back up.

A quick and mournful glance at the horizon proved that his journey would consist of quite a trek back to his father's ranch. He steeled his expression, taking an assured step forward.
He watched a handful of rocks tumble forward as he intentionally kicked them along his journey. After the first twenty minutes, he grew attached to a distinct kicking-rock, only to loose it to a particularly deep ditch near the side of the road half an hour later.

By that point, the sun had long set, leaving a paltry crescent moon in its wake. Beck's eyes had since adapted to the ever darkening day, gaze steady on the uneven ground beneath him.

His arms were sore and nearly numb from both the strain of carrying the bag of feed as well as the cool air nipping against his skin. He sighed quietly through his nose, watching the faint condensation rise through the space in front of him. His footsteps grew sluggish, surely wearing a hole into the respective sole of each boot.

Beck learned to embrace the blanket of blue that draped across the sky above him, that by the time light had creeped up behind him, the man was nearly blinded. He grimaced as he turned to face the oncoming vehicle.
The pickup began to slow to a stop as Beck lifted a hand to cover his eyes, peering through the spaces between his fingers.

The first discernible feature was emblazoned on the side of the truck, a striking yellow. Beck found himself frowning softly, letting his hand drop to rest at his side.

The interior lights flicked on as the driver's side door opened. Beck realized it was Rip climbing out of the truck, his shoulders slumping from their previously tense position. His eyes darted to the passenger seat, noticing Kayce's tilted head.

"The hell are you doing out here?" Rip grunted, stepping toward him.
Beck stared dumbly. He noticed the man still wore his sunglasses. Though the sun was long gone, he shielded his blue eyes all the same.

Rip scoffed lightly, hands reaching for the bag, grabbing it out of the other man's grip. Their hands brushed against each other.

"Jesus Christ," Rip muttered, reeling back, moving to toss the back into the bed of the truck. "You gotta jacket?"

Beck shook his head slowly, watching.

Rip's usual frown deepened as he took off his coat, holding it out between them. Beck furrowed his brows before the brunet sighed, shoving the article of clothing into Beck's chest. Out of reflex, Beck moved to take the coat, reluctantly shrugging it on.

The ranch hand leaned back, peering through the space the ajar driver's door created, and eyeing Kayce.
"Get in the back." He jerked his head.

Kayce rolled his eyes, out of amusement more than anything, before opening his door and stepping out.
Rip put a hand at the top of Beck's shoulders, steering him toward the passenger's side before moving toward the other side of the truck.

Rip was quick to blast the truck's heating before shifting gears, the pickup moving forward.

"Hey, Beck." Kayce smiled.

"Hey," the blond mumbled back.

"Get a little lost?"

"Something like that." Beck grimaced slightly, looking down at his lap as he ran an unsteady hand along the leg of his jeans.

"What happened?" Rip questioned, though it sounded more like a demand.

"Um..." Beck began quietly, voice hesitant. "Cassidy kicked me outta the truck."

Kayce raised a brow, as he looked at Rip through the rear-view mirror. The ranch hand met him with a blank expression, while the Dutton frowned.

"He at the house?" Rip asked, digging a thumb into the leather of the steering wheel.

"Yeah." Beck's eyes narrowed, eyeing the other man.

"One of the hay sheds caught fire today." Kayce murmured after a moment. His hand moved to run along the stubbled side of his face in thought.
"Think your kid brother had a hand in that?"

Beck sighed softly, suddenly exhausted. He let his eyes fall closed, biting the inside of his bottom lip.
"I don't know." He answered honestly, looking to the side of Rip's face before darting back to Kayce's expectant gaze. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Kayce prodded.

"They don't tell me much." Beck shrugged, blinking slowly as he turned to look out the window.

"This—feud, it's getting a little outta hand." The Dutton muttered quietly.

Beck couldn't find the energy to reply to the obvious. He closed his eyes again, rubbing a tired hand down the length of his face.

By the time he opened his eyes again, they were pulling into the gravel driveway of the Harrison home. He wasn't sure whether seconds or minutes had passed in his reprieve.
Once the truck slowed to a stop, Rip silently shifted the vehicle into park before letting his hand rest atop his own thigh.

Beck reluctantly sat forward, looking down as he moved to unclip his seatbelt.
"Thanks for the ride..." His gratitude tapered off as his eyes darted up to look through the windshield. Rip's ever stern expression turned to follow the other's gaze.

Cassidy had barged through the screen door, stood at the porch steps with a hand fastened around a wooden post in an attempt to appear casual.

Beck moved to open the door, climbing down from the truck. He softly shut it, moving toward the front of the vehicle.
He heard the twin sound of a set of doors wrenching open. Cassidy's face growing slightly ashen was a good indicator that Rip and Kayce were intent to follow him.

Kayce leaned a hip against the side of the truck, arms crossed as he watched Rip walk further.

The brunet moved to Beck's side, eyeing Cassidy with an evaluating once-over. The younger man seemed to shrink back slightly.

Beck watched the exchange silently before he reluctantly began to pull at the sleeve of the loaned coat.

"No," Rip started, setting a hand atop the other's shoulder. "You can give it back some other time."

"Thanks." Beck muttered, voice stilted.

Rip moved toward the bed of the truck. He reappeared with the bag of horse feed in his arms. Beck held his hands out, palms up, expectant. Rip pointedly ignored him, carrying the feed toward the front of the house, and setting it near the porch. The ranch hand walked back to the front of the pickup, giving Beck a small nod in parting.

The other man turned to leave, aiming a small wave Kayce's way. As Beck set foot on the bottom step of the porch, he looked up at the sound of his younger brother's quiet scoff.

"This the walk of shame or something?" Cassidy gestured toward the jacket.

Becky didn't deign to answer, ignoring the other in favor of moving toward the screen door. He gripped the handle with a tired sigh.

"Which one?" Cassidy prodded, voice laced in disgust.

"What?" Beck turned around to face his brother, brows furrowed.

"Thought you were buddy-buddy with one of 'em, but knowing you, it might be a different situation." The younger shrugged before nodding his head out toward the two men. Beck followed the gesture to see the Dutton men beginning to climb into the pickup.

"Shut the fuck up." Beck muttered, though his tired voice held no fight, as he turned to go inside.