I stand still, stuck, confused as I wait for him to lower the paper and meet my questioning stare.
"Look around. Things look fine around here if you ask me."
I hesitate for a moment, then, slowly, I straighten to my full height as I do as he says. And suddenly, it's as though I'm taken back in time to the property I grew up on. The grass is a lush carpet of green, meticulously cut in perfect lines. I take a step forward, searching for the tangled overgrown weeds that were everywhere last time I was here. Now, there's only order, perfectly manicured edges.
The chicken coop, too, catches my attention. It’s reborn, put together with fresh wood. The chickens look happy, have a new pulse even.
And the fencing. It was all broken, bent, and forgotten. But now it looks firm and durable. Each post and rail has been mended or replaced.
Everything looks different, transformed. The realization hits me hard.
How is it possible? Who did this?
There's magic back here again, magic I never thought I’d see again.
I turn back to the stubborn man behind the newsprint. "Daddy, who did this?"
He rustles the paper. "I'm just an old man, minding hisbusiness, hoping to retire on this great piece of land here... that his ancestors built with their blood and tears."
My fingers find the edge of the newspaper, and I gently press it down.
"Daddy."
He sighs. "I don't know, Sawyer, and I'm not asking. I reckon it has something to do with your brother. Those Stetson boys he rides with," Daddy continues. "Seen these trucks with Stetson Ranch on the side coming in and outta here the past few days. There was a big group of ‘em early in the morning. Been seeing that one they call bad news pop in and out more than the rest of ‘em."
“You mean Trouble?”
“Yeah, that’s what I said,” he barks, tossing up a hand.
I arch a brow, staring at Daddy like he’s grown a few extra heads. “And you didn’t ask why they’re helping out?”
He doesn’t flinch. Just shakes the newspaper open again like we’re discussing the weather. “Told you—I’m minding my business.”
This doesn’t make sense.
Knox is as bullheaded as Daddy—too proud to ask for help. Even if the house was on fire, he’d never do it. And the Stetsons? EspeciallyTrouble? They don’t just show up and do favors. Not without a reason.
That’s when it hits me—like a jolt straight through my chest.
He knows.
Hewalked inon me crying. Saw me falling apart. He knew this ranch was falling apart, too. And now…
He’s been out there. Quietly. Behind the scenes. Fixing up the fence line. Helping with the animals. Putting in work on a ranch that isn’t his. For a family that doesn’t even know to thank him.
“Sawyer?” Knox’s voice booms through the screen door. “You’re here? And you and Daddy ain’t fightin’?”
“Guess things are turning around.”
“Well hell, that means it’s gonna be a great day.” He steps out onto the porch, does a slow turn, then whistles. “Holy crap, this lawn’s lookin’ good.”
I grin, already ready to drop the next surprise. “Have you seen the chicken coop?”
Knox’s head whips in the direction I’m pointing. He squints, then takes a few steps forward. “Daddy… you do that?”
Daddy doesn’t even look up from his paper. “Just mindin’ my business.”
Knox lets out a low chuckle, but he’s still staring at the coop like it appeared out of thin air. “Sawyer, maybe you being here ain’t so bad after all.”
