Heather Whitley brushed a strand of hair that had escaped from her ponytail out of her face as she rang up a customer's order. It was a Friday at Quitman Livestock Supply and therefore, they were extremely busy. Much busier than normal. She was already past her limit with stress and it didn't help that she could feel a migraine coming on. Once she'd finished ringing up the man's order, she took the time to grab a bottle of water. She'd just finished off the last of it when the bell on the door rang again. Ugh! I can't get anything done. She still had to restock at least four of the shelves and order some supplies for a man that had demanded they be there by next Wednesday. She looked up to see Kyle Dalton walk in. The Dalton's were well known in the area for their ranching and horse training abilities. And they were some of her favorite customers. They were always very respectful and honest. And she liked that. It seemed like there weren't too many of those kinds of people anymore.

"Good mornin', Miss Heather. How's business today?" he asked.

"It's busy. That's for sure. And yet I feel like I haven't got a thing done all mornin'." He chuckled.

"I know what you mean. My youngest brother showed up at the ranch early this morning and I'm afraid I'm a little behind on my work as well." She couldn't quite grasp what he was saying. All of the brothers lived at the ranch so what was he talking about?

"Oh. I thought Austin lived there on the ranch with you folks." she observed. Kyle nodded.

"He does. I was talking about Stetson. He's a year younger than Austin." Mysterious. She'd never heard of him before. She didn't have the chance to ask any more questions before he walked to the back of the store. Why had she never heard of this Stetson before now? It seemed odd. Then again, maybe she had heard of it and just hadn't paid attention. Heaven knew she was in over her head with work and trying to raise her daughters. She thought of them as she grabbed a box and started restocking the dwindling supply of canned cat food. Layla had just turned four in March and Amora would be two in a couple months. They were her sweet little angels. Both of them were well-behaved and loving. Not to mention adorable. They took after Sean. Tears sprang to her eyes when she thought of their daddy. He'd been an excellent husband and father. Never once had she doubted his love for any of them. But he had been a man of honor. One who'd never break a promise no matter what it cost him. And when he died, he took her heart with him. She pushed away the depressing thoughts as she pulled out a box knife and cut the tape on the box. She added it to the stack in the back of the store. When she walked back out, Kyle was at the front counter waiting to pay.

"Sorry 'bout that."

"No worries. I wasn't waitin' more than a minute." She raised her eyebrows at the sight of the items of the counter.

"I take it you don't like this new brother of yours." He laughed heartily at her comment. It did look a little suspicious. Duct tape, shrink wrap, a knife kit.

"Maybe it's Wayne who doesn't like him. He asked me to pick this stuff up for him." She smiled.

"Poor guy." she said. Then added, "You'll have to bring him in sometime. I'd like to meet the final Dalton."

"Certainly. I'll do that. It might be a couple weeks though. We've got him loadin' hay for the foreseeable future." She nodded. Besides their already thriving cattle business, the Daltons also grew hay and alfalfa far superior to anything else in Texas. Or so she heard others say. She couldn't claim it from first-hand experience.

As much as she would love to own a couple horses and maybe a cow or two, she couldn't afford it. The death gratuity she'd received at the time of Sean's passing hadn't lasted long. The funeral, burial expense, and living costs in San Antonio had taken their toll. She'd had just enough to restart somewhere else. A job opportunity had come up in Quitman, TX. And so she'd taken it.

It wasn't a lot. Their house was modest and she had very little to call her own. But her daughters were healthy and happy. And that's all that mattered to her. She spoke to Kyle for a few more minutes before wrapping up the conversation. The Dalton family had such a good relationship. Something she had wanted with her parents but never had the chance to experience. So much loss. Kyle took his leave and waved as he walked out the door. She waved back. Memories came flooding to her and she watched his frame retreat.

"Remember, babe. This is my last year. After this I'll be home and we'll never have to say goodbye again." She nodded but inside she was dreading the year-long deployment. But she'd managed before and she would again. He gently wiped the tears from her face with his thumbs. His own cheeks were damp. He wrapped his arms around both her and Layla and held them for several minutes. She felt safe. Maybe that's why this was so hard. Whenever he left, she felt like she had to be on her guard all the time. She no longer had a big, strong man at her side to protect her. And it made her feel vulnerable. And very, very alone.

"Last call!" The chilling words rose over the wind. He pulled away and kissed his daughter's forehead before giving her one last hug. He held Heather close and lowered his lips to hers. He pulled away with his eyes still closed and turned to walk away. She knew he couldn't bear seeing her tears just before he left. It killed him to know he was causing her pain. Her voice was weak but she ignored it. He had to hear the words.

"I love you, Sean Whitley!" Either the din from the plane's engines or the wind carried her voice away. He never heard her. She saw him wave and blow her a kiss from the window. She returned it. And then she watched until the plane could no longer be seen.

A diesel truck's revving engine shook her from the past and she realized that she had hot tears streaming down her face. Would this pain never ease? Could she ever live with the fact that he hadn't heard those last words from her? She swiped at her tears with the palms of her hands. One thing she knew for sure was that crying couldn't bring him back. If it could, he would have risen from the dead many times over by now. She stood from the ground where she had been restocking some paint cans and forced herself back to work. She was grateful that nobody had walked in during that emotionally draining episode. The people of Quitman really knew very little about her. She didn't like talking about herself.

Thankfully, it was easy to get the attention fixed back on the other person if you acted boring enough and asked enough questions. She was certain that there weren't too many people who even knew she had two daughters. Her babysitter did, of course. And the Daltons knew because Jill Dalton had visited the house to welcome her when Heather first moved into town. But that was about it. She was a very private person and, despite the women who loved to snoop in this little "small town USA", she'd managed to remain that way.

But even she knew that the truth always found its way out. It wouldn't be long before everybody knew about Layla at least. She would have to be enrolled in kindergarten here within the next year or two. The thought caused another twinge of pain in her chest.

When Sean had been alive, they'd always planned on homeschooling. He had wanted her home with the kids and she'd felt the same way. But now everything was different. And like every other dream they had, homeschooling would be forever impossible. By the time six o' clock rolled around, she was exhausted. Her feet ached as they did after every busy day at work. Even though there was a chair at the counter, she never got to use it. The supply store she ran was the only one in Quitman. And with all the farmers and ranchers around, that meant they got a lot of business.

The owners, Jim and Debbie Byrnes, were good people—kind hearted and thoughtful. Not to mention generous. She knew her job paid more than average. At least, more than Quitman's average. It had been that way from the start. But when her abilities and work ethic had proven true, she'd gotten a raise—something that she couldn't be more grateful for.

The extra money had come in handy in light of old debts that had suddenly appeared. She thought it odd that Sean would accumulate any debt. Much less a couple thousand worth. It had taken her several months to pay it off but it worked out in the end. Now that she was square, Heather intended to set aside a bit of a savings account. In case anything else unexpected popped up. One could never know.

Stetson's shoulders ached as he threw the bales down to another hand from the top of the enormous tower of hay bales. He couldn't believe how weak he'd become. They had one more trailer to load—they had already loaded two—and then they were done for the day. And he was glad for it. His muscles were spasming so bad that his hands were shaking.

But he was determined not to complain. His dad and him had spoken very little since his return but he felt an urge to offer an apology. Just not quite yet. He was gonna hold on to his last shredded remnant of pride for a little longer. He absently thought of Shay and wondered how she was doing. Her cousins had seemed thrilled to have another person to join their ranks. He only hoped they would continue to feel that way. She needed the extra support.

Three hours later, the last load was finished. He'd ridden down to the barn in Kyle's truck so he assumed his brother would pick him back up. He was ready for a nice hot shower. And a hot meal. He hoped his mom would have something substantial. He hadn't been this hungry since...ever. He'd stupidly told his mom not to worry about lunch. He'd ignored his brothers' admonishment because of his pride. Maybe he had more pride than he realized.

He remembered a conversation he'd had with his grandfather when he was helping him stack wood in the woodshed. He'd looked Stetson dead in the eye as he spoke.

"Stetson. There are two kinds of pride. There's the kind that comes from thinkin' you can't learn somethin' from everybody and there's the kind that comes from a lifetime of hard work and dedication. Don't you ever confuse them two or you'll find yourself in a heap of trouble."

At fifteen, he just agreed to end the intense interlude but he was just now understanding what the older man meant. He laughed. It had taken him ten years. So he was either really stupid or really stubborn. He was wishing it was the latter when his brother pulled up. He stood slowly from the hay bale he'd been slouching on, wincing as he stretched. When he got into the truck, Kyle slid a pitying glance towards him.

"Sore, old pal?" Kyle prompted. It was a goad and Stetson wasn't about to take the bait.

"Not at all. I feel as fresh as I did seven years ago..." he trailed off and Kyle rolled his eyes. Then he continued, "when Ranger rolled on me and nearly broke my back." His brother smirked.

"I thought so," Kyle said. Stetson thought back to that day. His four-year-old buckskin gelding had been working since four thirty that morning without a good break. It was around sunset—so eight-ish and he was done. So when he realized Stetson wasn't gonna get off for the trek back to the ranch, he laid down and rolled. And he'd given his owner a nasty sprained ankle. They'd ended up having to cut off his boot in order to free his ankle from the constricting leather.

"Is Ranger still around?" Stetson asked suddenly. Kyle nodded.

"He hasn't been ridden for seven years though." His brother's words shocked him.

"Why not? Somethin' happen to him?" Stetson asked. He felt concern for his horse spring up. He missed his old friend.

"Nope. But he wouldn't let anybody ride him after you left." Kyle said with a bit of disgust in his voice.

"Really?" Stetson questioned. He was astounded. Stetson had to admit that Ranger had always been a one-owner-type horse but he was surprised that even seven years later, he was sticking to that train of thought. "Not even you?" Stetson asked. Kyle grimaced.

"All of us tried, Stet. He bucked and kicked till we were on the ground one way or another. He broke a couple of Wayne's ribs in the process. So we stopped trying." Kyle stated. Stetson shook his head.

"Will you stop at the barn?" He asked. Kyle seemed to contemplate the request.

"We have to be back in time for supper." Kyle protested.

"Just for a minute, Ky. Please." begged Stetson.

"Fine. Just a minute though. I'm not about to miss dinner." Stetson nodded. Kyle pulled up to the barn and Stetson saw Ranger in the side paddock. He climbed over the wooden fence and whistled his two-tone call that he'd come up with when Ranger was just a colt. The buckskin's ears perked up and he lifted his head. Upon seeing Stetson standing there, he started to walk, then trot, then canter, and finally gallop over to him. Stetson laughed.

"Hey, old friend. It's been a long time." Ranger whinnied, as if agreeing. "Do you remember me, old son?" Stetson asked while scratching the gelding's withers. Without a second thought of how sore he was, Stetson swung onto his horse's back and nudged him into a trot. The sixteen-hand buckskin willingly complied. He winced with each jolt of his body but managed to stay on. After about five minutes, he decided they'd better head back to the ranch. He slowed Ranger to a stop and slid off. Ranger followed him over to the fence and watched as he walked away as if to ask why Stetson was leaving so soon. When he got back into the truck, he brother was glowering.

"What?" Stetson asked. Kyle just shook his head. His older brother muttered something about a dumb, loyal animal. Stetson couldn't help but smile. They said very little for the rest of the ride. When they walked through the door after washing up at the pump in the front yard, the first voice he heard was his daughter's.

"Daddy! You're home!" she exclaimed. He half-expected her to run into his arms at any moment and the disappointment of realizing she would never again get that chance to crushed him.

"Hey, baby girl." He walked over to her and gave her a hug. "How was your day?"

"Good. Yours?" She asked with a scrunched up nose. "You smell awful." she said. He chuckled and then shrugged.

"It was pretty good. I need to shower though, huh?" he asked. She nodded vehemently. Stetson headed to the bathroom to wash up. The din in the living room was deafening.

"Let's eat!" His father's voice drowned out all the noise and they made their way to the table. After offering up thanks for the meal the women had crafted, they all dug in. All of his brothers and their families had decided to convene at the big house for supper. Stetson listened in amusement as his nephews told story after story of their own little adventures. Wayne, who'd sat on his left side, bumped him with an elbow.

"Remember being that young and carefree?" his older brother asked. Stetson looked over at him. Thinking while he chewed, he shrugged.

"Not really." Stetson said. Wayne said nothing more on the matter but Stetson knew he'd made his point. Their dad had possessed the "children are meant to be seen and not heard" mentality for most of their growing up years. Kyle hadn't made a single comment throughout the entire meal but, by the time dessert was served, he was starting to talk a little more.

"You'll never guess what I saw with my own eyes today." Kyle said. He held everyone's attention captive. "Somebody rode Ranger."

"Who?" His father's voice sounded unbelieving.

"Stetson." Kyle said. Everyone looked to the youngest Dalton son. Stetson smiled somewhat uncomfortably, really wishing they would look away.

"You rode Ranger?" Hank demanded. It wasn't the question that caught him off guard. It was the tone it was asked with. As if his father hadn't thought him capable of anything impressive. Stetson tried to push away the feeling of rebellion rising inside but had little success. It was getting worse by the minute. So he decided to ignore his father and hope that he wouldn't push the issue. He did. "I asked you a question." Hank stated angrily. Shay's smile had long-since faded and she looked back and forth between the two men with worry.

"I know. I just didn't reckon I should answer. After all, Kyle has no reason to lie, does he?" Stetson fired back.

"It doesn't matter, boy. If I ask you a question, I expect it to be answered. Is that clear?" Hank's voice was full of that familiar irritation. He could hear his heart pounding with suppressed rage. Would nobody ever treat him like a full-grown man? "Is it?" Hank asked again. His father's eyes were filled with rage when Stetson finally looked up.

"Yes, sir." Stetson forced out. With the tension of the moment passed, everyone seemed to relax. Everyone, that is, but him. He wanted to punch his fist through a wall. And he despised the feeling because he hadn't felt that way since he was eighteen years old. Well, that wasn't quite true.

Lisa had possessed the ability to really get under his skin. She may have been the one throwing furniture but he had thrown some nasty words into the arguments too. He wondered how many of those insults his daughter had heard and he couldn't help but cringe. Who could blame him for avoiding women? They seemed to bring out the worst in him one way or another. His mother had a way of getting him to confess everything and Lisa had been able to send him into a verbal outrage.

As soon as supper was over and Shay was down for the night, he showered, changed into clean clothes, and walked back downstairs. The sight that greeted him when he walked out onto the porch was not a welcome one. Everyone was relaxing with a beer in their hand. Austin looked up.

"Hey Stet! Why don't you join us?" he asked, tossing a beer to his brother. Stetson caught the can with one hand and stared down at the drink that had caused him so much grief.

Without a second thought, he opened the can and dumped it over the rail and into the grass. He tossed it back to Austin.

"What was that for?" Austin huffed. Stetson looked his brother dead in the eye before glancing away. He ignored Austin—not quite ready to share.

"I'm gonna go visit Matt. Momma, could you keep an ear out for Shay? Just call me if she wakes up. I don't think she will but kids are pretty sporadic." he said. She simply nodded.

"Thanks." He walked out to his truck and pulled out of the drive.

Jill watched her son drive away. He's been through so much. She hoped Matt would be able to help him work through some of his problems.

"Okay. That was rude." Austin sounded flat-out offended. When her husband didn't speak up to defend his youngest, she realized why he and Stetson had never gotten along. One of the reasons at least. There was more to the situation than anyone truly understood.

If Stetson had said that about one of the other boys, Hank would have rebuked him without a second thought. But he'd never connected with Stetson. Which was entirely his own fault in her opinion.

"Austin." Jill said. She looked at him and shook her head.

"It was! I offered him an olive branch and he completely brushed me off." Austin complained. He set Stetson's empty can on the porch and crushed it with his boot.

"You don't know all the details of the situation. Maybe you should ask why before getting upset." Jill continued. Austin looked at her like she'd blown a fuse.

"What else do I need to know? He thinks he's better than all of us." he said.

"It has nothing to do with that." she stated.

"Then what?" His voice was exasperated.

"You'll have to ask him." He said nothing for a minute. His next words surprised her.

"There you go defending him again," he muttered, filing his arm in the arm. She looked up from her tea glass in shock.

"Austin Ray Dalton, what on earth are you talking about? I am not defending your brother. I'm simply saying that maybe you should ask him before just assuming that he's being a jerk." Her voice rose on the last word.

"Just leave it be, Jill." her husband said. She looked over at him. He was siding with their older son even though he knew the truth of the matter. She shook her head. What is this world comin' to?

"Fine." She set her drink down, making sure it made enough noise to deliver her message. Loud and Clear. "I'm going to bed." She walked in the house, ignoring her husband's protest, and slammed the screen door.

If that man so much as breathed anywhere near her, she was certain she would lose it. The audacity. She fumed as she got ready for bed. How dare he? Her son's unintentional question came back to haunt her. "Does dad just hate me or something?" She had tried to ignore Hank's favoritism because she didn't know how to fix it. But now, with Stetson finally home and her husband already picking fights with him, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold her tongue.

She heard him coming up the stairs just as she finished brushing her teeth.

"Jill?" he said quietly. She really wanted to just ignore him and go to bed but he would never allow for that. He'd pester her to talk about it until they did.

"What?" she asked harshly. He stepped into view and watched her in the mirror as she brushed her hair and secured it into a braid.

"Why are you mad?" he asked. She fumed at his arrogance. Did he really not understand?

"Because you," she said, pointing a finger at him and throwing the hairbrush on the counter, "are the most irritating, self-centered, side-picking, good-for-nothing," his eyebrows raised with each added description, "pitiful excuse for a father that I have ever seen." She could feel her heart racing as she looked into his dark blue eyes. Eyes that got even darker when he was mad. Like right now.

"Are you done?" he asked.

"No." She braved. "You've also always neglected our youngest son and picked favorites among the older boys for as long as I can remember. And you continue to do so. I'm so sick and tired of watching you push Stetson away. What did he do to deserve that kind of neglect from you?" She could feel the tears streaming down her cheeks.

He said nothing for a time. He just leaned against the doorjamb and watched her until she couldn't take it anymore. She pushed past him and crawled into bed, facing the wall. She couldn't fall asleep so she listened as he got ready for bed. I shouldn't have been so harsh. He's never liked that. But then again, maybe it would actually get his attention. Fifteen minutes later, he laid down beside her. She heard him sigh a few times and knew he was getting ready to say something.

"You still awake, Jill?" he asked. She waited a few minutes before answering, half-wishing he would have fallen asleep already.

"Yes." she said.

"Did you mean what you said?" he asked. She thought back on her words.

"Not all of it." she replied.

"Which part?" he continued.

"The part about you pushing Stetson away and favoring the other boys." she confessed with some apprehension. He was quiet. Just when she thought he would say nothing more, he spoke quietly.

"I don't understand that boy." he admitted. "He's always confused me. Half the time, I felt like he might turn into a fine man and the other half, I wasn't so sure. He's got a nasty temper and he's mysterious as all get out. Besides, we aren't close because he never showed any interest in me. You were always his favorite." She was astounded to hear a little bit of jealousy in her husband's last statement. She couldn't deny that she felt a special connection with her youngest son but she hadn't realized it bothered her husband so badly.

"He did show interest though. And I think we both know that your relationship with him is a lot deeper than just him. And you know exactly what I'm talking about so don't play stupid."

"No, he did not." he argued, ignoring the latter part of her statement. Anytime she brought it up, he pulled away from it. She couldn't blame him. It still hurt her too.

"Yes he did. Think about it Hank. Remember when he was fourteen and you were planning on picking up those horses from the Triple C in Houston? He begged you to let him go. But you told him there was work here he could be doing." He remained silent so she continued. "You know when he stopped trying?" Hank hesitated briefly.

"When?" he finally asked.

"When you purposefully left him here and took the rest of the boys to that auction in Tyler." She cringed remembering that day. Stetson had mentioned wanting to go just the week before. And he'd been the only one who didn't get to.

She remembered the way he'd worked his jaw when Hank had told him to help the other hands round up some strays. But he didn't complain. Just as he wasn't now. It's the one thing she'd never been able to figure out. And that was how bad he was hurting. She could already see that he was, but to figure out the extent of his pain was nearly impossible. And, if her guess wasn't wrong, he did that to protect himself. Because, to him, it seemed like nobody cared. Hank didn't say anything else but rolled onto his side and fell asleep.

Stetson knocked on the door of the little house. It was charming to be sure. He still couldn't imagine his rough-and-tumble high school friend living here but that's what he'd been told when he asked in town. So this is where he was. He knocked again and waited for someone to open the door. Thirty seconds later, Matt did.

"Stetson! Holy cow, man! Come in!" He opened the door wider and Stetson stepped through. "Wow! You grew like another foot and a half. You're nearly taller than me."

"Okay, grandma," Stetson said. Matt laughed at the quip. His grandmother was always telling people how tall they'd gotten in the past year or so. He made a mental note to swing by their place and see how her and grandpa were doing. It was on the way home anyway.

"So tell me," he said as he sat down, "how's that daughter of yours doing?"

"Okay, I guess. She seems to like it here." he responded. "She's still pretty depressed at times but it doesn't seem as bad as it was in Idaho."

"What about you? How are you holding up?" his buddy asked. The question caught him off guard. His daughter was the one struggling. Not that he wasn't, but nobody should be worried about him.

"I'm great. A little sore. Kyle had me loading hay today." he said. Matt looked hard at him.

"That's not what I meant, bro. And you know it. Spit it out. What's bothering you?" Stetson looked down at the hardwood floor. It would be much easier to just ignore the question but, in all honesty, he needed to talk it out. He felt like he was going to explode from the stress of things right now.

"Dad forced me back here." Matt sent him one of his "yeah right" looks. "I'm serious. He said he was taking Shay and that I could come along if I wanted to, but, either way, she was going with him." he said. Bitterness crept into his voice.

"How is that forcing you back? You could have just said no." Matt said.

"I did. But he threatened a custody battle and anybody with half a brain knows that he would have won." Stetson huffed.

"He threatened to take her from you? Are you serious?" Matthew asked.

"Yes. I am."

"Wow!" His buddy's face was a mask of sympathy. "Is it so bad though?"

"What? Watching my dad play favorites with all my older brothers just like he always has? Not believing me capable of any good?" Stetson demanded. Matt had long known of his father's preference so it wasn't anything new.

"Still that bad, eh?" Stetson nodded. Just then, Verla Hunt, Matthew's mother walked into the room. Stetson stood and gave her a brief hug. She'd always been like a second mother to him.

"I'd better get back to the ranch. It's gettin' late and momma will wonder where I am."

"No, no, no. At least stay for some tea." Verla insisted. Stetson stayed for another five minutes before bolting. One thing was for sure. Matt had changed some. He was glad to see his old friend so happy though. If he was content with the way his life was, Stetson was glad for it.

Matt had taken care of his mother since his dad had died when Matthew was only fifteen. Stetson was grateful to have somebody with so much integrity as a friend. He still remembered Matt's kind gesture of helping out years before. They had been a little behind with branding and he had jumped right in to help. Stetson couldn't help but laugh remembering his buddy's words when it was all over with.

He'd looked straight at him and said, "If you need help branding in the next ten years, don't call me." They had both laughed. The Daltons had respected his words but it was an unspoken deal that, if they truly needed the help, Matt would be there. He was the type of guy that would drop everything to help out a friend in need. He reminded Stetson a lot of an old country song that talked about finding out who your friends are.

Stetson swung by the store to grab a chocolate bar to make it up to Austin. He hadn't wanted to be rude but he didn't feel like he could talk about it just yet. As he walked out, he collided with an unsuspecting person. He grabbed their shoulders quickly so they wouldn't fall.

"Sorry 'bout that." he said.

"Stetson?" He'd recognize that velvety voice anywhere.

"Lily. Gosh. It's been a long time—" He didn't have a chance to say anything else. A large frame slammed him into the glass door behind him—cracking it. He was pretty sure he knew who it was too.

"Get your paws off my wife!" a voice shouted. Yep. That would be Jake Wright. He seethed at Stetson and delivered a well-aimed punch to his jaw. He heard Lily screaming for help. Not that it would do much good. People in this town were generally content to mind their own business when it came to skirmishes.

"I was making sure she didn't fall over, Jake. Take it easy." Stetson rubbed his jaw. He really wanted to sock him back but he knew it would only make the fight worse. Jake growled and stepped back. When he made another move to lunge, Stetson jumped out of the way. Jake flew through the already-weakened glass and landed by the check-out line. He could already hear the cashier on the phone with 911. His enemy quickly stood.

"Come on, Lily. Let's get out of here." He grabbed her arm none-too-gently, ignoring her cry of pain, and barreled her towards his truck. Stetson hung around, helping pick up glass, while they waited for the police to show up. He'd never been one to run from trouble and that wasn't going to change now. The siren wailed as they got closer. Two deputies got out and started his way. That's when he realized one of them was his uncle—his mother's older brother. Well, isn't this great?

"What happened here?" the officer asked.

"Hey, Uncle Tom." Stetson said casually. His uncle stopped his approach.

"By golly! Stetson, is that really you? Holy smokes, son! What are you doin' back in Quitman?" His uncle grabbed him and bear-hugged him. He tolerated it. Barely. Relief washed over him when Tom let go. His uncle had a way of squeezing all the oxygen from your lungs.

"Apparently causin' trouble." he admitted jokingly. The other officer didn't sound amused.

"What happened?"the man, who Stetson learned was Officer Cruz, Joe's second cousin, asked. Stetson explained the situation and waited while the men took notes.

"Someone's gonna have to pay for that glass." Tom said. He knew his uncle was suggesting he just do it. But that wasn't right and he wasn't gonna foot the bill for damage he didn't cause.

"Let Jake pay for it. He's the one who broke it." Stetson said. Both deputies shook their heads.

"You'll have to at least split the cost, Stetson. It's just the way it is." Tom said.

"But I didn't instigate the fight!" His protest fell on deaf ears.

"Jake had reason to feel like you were messin' with his property, son." The other officer didn't seem to like Stetson all that much. Well, it's mutual.

"His property? What is this? The 1800s? Lily isn't his property. She's his wife. Why don't you just ask her? She knows I was just steadyin' her." Stetson protested. His uncle watched him for a moment.

"You really want to cause them more trouble than they already have?" his uncle asked. That was a trick question.

"I have no clue what you're talking about. I just got into town this morning and quite frankly, I'm exhausted. Can I please go?" Stetson asked.

"Are you saying you won't pay the fine?" Cruz demanded.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. I didn't do a thing wrong and I'm not gonna act like I did." Then the unthinkable happened. The deputy arrested him. Once he was in his cell, he realized the gravity of the situation. Someone was gonna have to bail him out. Or he would have to pay the fine. Either way, his family would be angry and disappointed in him. He was too exhausted to think anything through so he laid down on the cot and crashed.