Caleb slowed his truck as he reached the town limits, where a hand-painted sign welcomed him to Blue Ridge Hollow.
Main Street stretched ahead, lined with brick storefronts that looked like they’d been standing since the 1950s. He passeda hardware store, a diner with red-checked curtains in the windows, and a bookshop with a cat sleeping in the display. Flower boxes hung from lampposts, bursting with late-season mums in shades of burgundy and gold.
The mountains rose on either side of the valley, their peaks hazy in the setting sun. Everything moved at a slower pace here. People actually strolled on the sidewalks instead of rushing, and a few folks sitting on a bench outside the general store lifted their hands in greeting as Caleb passed, even though they’d never met him before.
A white church steeple punctuated the skyline at the far end of town, and Caleb spotted the local park with its gazebo, where a couple of kids tossed a football back and forth. The whole place had that Norman Rockwell quality. It was the kind of town where people still knew their neighbors’ names and probably left their doors unlocked at night.
It was exactly the kind of place someone might come to disappear. Or to heal.
At the end of the road, he pulled into the station parking lot and killed the engine, sitting for a moment in the silence. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
Lord, I don’t know what will happen from here. What will be revealed. But please give me Your wisdom. I need it now more than ever.
Then he climbed out and headed for the entrance.
He was halfway to the door when a voice stopped him. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the land thief.”
Caleb turned, tension prickling across his spine.
Two men stood near a pickup truck—Jared and Travis Henderson. Brothers. Mid-thirties. Known troublemakers with a string of petty offenses and a grudge against anyone who wore a badge or stood for authority.
Caleb had dealt with them before. They were generally just a nuisance—but held the capacity to be more. He prayed they never crossed that line.
“Not today, Jared,” Caleb said evenly, moving toward the door.
“What’s the matter?” Jared stepped into his path, a smirk twisting his lips. “You too important to talk to the little guys in town? Or maybe your conscience bothers you when you see us—seeing how your property should be ours.”
“Move,” Caleb said, his voice low and his hands fisted.
Travis laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “Heard you got some trouble up there. Someone got themselves killed, didn’t they? That’s not a good look for you.”
Caleb’s jaw clenched, but he kept his voice controlled. Of course, they’d heard. Everyone in town probably had.
“Get out of my way,” he muttered.
Jared leaned closer, his breath reeking of alcohol. “Or what? You gonna call the sheriff? Oh wait—youarethe sheriff’s little lapdog, aren’t you?”
Caleb’s patience snapped.
He stepped forward, his voice cold and hard. “I’m not going to ask again.”
He didn’t want this to turn into a fight. In fact, that was the last thing he wanted.
But he couldn’t let these guys push him around either. He had to stand his ground.
For a moment, the brothers just stared at him.
Then Jared sneered and stepped aside with a long shake of his head. “Whatever, man. You’re not worth it.”
Caleb brushed past them and pushed through the station door, his heart pounding with barely contained rage.
He forced himself to breathe slowly. To focus.
The Hendersons weren’t worth his time.
He had bigger problems to deal with.
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