I stood there long after he was gone, heart hammering, fists clenched. It wasn’t just about the land anymore. It was personal. He had circled my home, threatened my future, and I wasn't going to stand for it.
Max came in for lunch, and I told him what happened. We sat at the kitchen table, Duke curled at our feet, the midday sun casting long shadows across the floor. Max didn’t say much at first, just stared out the window like he could will the world to leave us alone.
"He said everything’s for sale," I whispered.
Max shook his head. "He doesn’t know Starcrest. He doesn’t know you." He reached across the table and placed his hand over mine, a simple gesture that felt like a fortress against the world.
"We need a plan," I said, drawing strength from his touch. "We can’t just hope this all goes away."
Max looked at me, then nodded slowly. "You’re right. First thing tomorrow, I’ll talk to Clint and Jerry about extra security. We need eyes everywhere. And maybe we reach out to Sarah’s cousin—the one who’s a paralegal. She might know someone who can help us sort through this deed challenge."
"That’s a good idea," I said, relieved by his steady resolve. "Maybe we can pull together anything my grandfather kept from the original filing. Even a dated letter or note would help."
After Max went back outside, I stopped by the bakery. Sarah was still there, wiping down the counter, the scent of cinnamon hanging thick in the warm air.
"Hey," I said softly.
She looked up, then immediately set her rag down, her expression changing to one of shared concern. "Saw you pacing outside the fence line earlier. I figured you found something."
I nodded, the words tumbling out. "It wasn’t just something. It was someone. Taking pictures. He handed me a card—some developer rep. And then today, I got a letter from a law firm. Someone’s contesting the will."
Sarah’s brows knitted together. "That’s dirty. They’re trying to rattle you before the festival." She came around the counter and gave my arm a squeeze.
"You’re not alone, Ella. This town loves that ranch. You think people are gonna let some outsider come in and take it from you? Not without a fight. And not without a whole lot of noise."
Tears sprang to my eyes, unexpected and uninvited. They weren’t from sadness, but from the overwhelming relief of not being alone. I blinked them back. "Thanks, Sarah. I really needed to hear that."
She handed me a bag. "Pecan muffins. One for Max, too. Y’all need strength for what’s ahead."
That strength didn’t come from muffins, though. It came from people like Sarah.
When I got back to the house, Max was on the porch, checking the latch on the gate.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded, a tired smile lifting my lips. "We’re not going down without a fight."
Max stopped what he was doing, a look of fierce pride and shared determination on his face. "That’s the spirit."
Inside, the tree still glowed with soft light. I thought of my mother’s ornament. My grandfather’s weathered hands. The way Max had looked at me earlier, like I belonged. I placed a hand on my chest, feeling my own heart beat with a fierce, quiet resolve.
I wasn’t leaving.
Not without a fight.
Chapter 20 - Faith and Forgiveness
Max
The box was heavier than I remembered. Or maybe it was everything it stood for that weighed me down. I sat cross-legged on the floor of the ranch office, the scent of old paper and dust thick in the air.
The old cedar chest Hank once kept tucked behind his desk sat open before me, its contents a brittle, fading record of a life.
Most of it was just papers—feed invoices, weather logs, maintenance schedules from the early 2000s—a lifetime of worries and routines. Sifting through it felt like rummaging through a ghost's pockets.
But tucked near the bottom, beneath a worn ranch ledger, were older envelopes. Yellowed. Smudged. Labeled in Hank’s tight, efficient handwriting, the ink faded with time. My heart gave a little jolt. I carefully pulled them out, the paper crackling in my hands like dry leaves.
One was marked: Property Deed—Starcrest Ranch (Original Copy).
