But he’d gone and lost Greta and had only himself to blame. He should have done the right thing and made sure she knew from the start exactly what kind of deal he’d made with Steele. Instead, he’d walked a mile around the issue, hoping it would go away on its own. Now she was the one going away.

And the voice was back, yelling at him louder than ever that he didn’t have what it takes to be a rancher. He scrubbed a hand over his mouth and down his bristly chin.

Maybe all this time he’d been fooling himself into believing he’d be able to build a livelihood on the land that could eventually become self-supporting. But this place was too untamed. His enemies were too unyielding. And his luck was all used up—if he’d ever had any to begin with.

Judd stood, removed his hat, and peered around at the needless carnage. His leathery face was grave.

The despair inside Wyatt burrowed deeper. On top of all his other shortcomings, he’d also let down Judd. When he’d asked Judd to stay and help him build the ranch, he promised him a new and exciting opportunity along with the chance to put down roots here in this land of beauty. But now, what was the point in staying? Their herd was dead. And his deal with Steele was dead too.

All along, a part of him had known the deal wasn’t right, that he shouldn’t have bargained over a woman’s life. He should have called things off and figured out another way to build the herd.

A gust of cold wind whistled low against the earth and rustled the dry grass, as though calling him to mourn. The coldness reminded him of winter’s approach and the bleakness of the months ahead. Wasn’t much he could do now. But come spring, he could claim a homestead on the plains and give farming a try. At least he had the know-how.

Judd held his hat over his heart and bowed his head, no doubt praying.

Wyatt expelled a tight breath. He wasn’t sure he wanted to pray any more. Not when God didn’t seem to care a lick about helping anything in his life to go right.

After several more moments of silence, Judd replaced his hat and then stood back to take in the scene again.

Another gust of cold air buffeted Wyatt, taunting him about everything he’d lost. “Not every day a man loses both his wife and his livelihood.”

Judd turned to his mount and retrieved the rope from the saddle. “You ain’t lost either yet.”

Wyatt snorted. “I know you ain’t deaf or blind. You heard Greta and you see this.” He waved toward the dead cattle. “I’m done.”