“Aye.”
“Fraser Kincaid. Adventure travel. Skydiving off cliffs and charming the camera.” She paused. “I watched some of your stuff. The Iceland series was solid.”
I didn’t know what to do with that. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Her tone shifted, the warmth draining out of it. “Now let me tell you what you’ve done.”
I braced for anger. What I got was worse.
Kaya sat down on the arm of the chair by the window, composed and deliberate, like she wanted to make sure every word landed exactly where she aimed it.
“Rose moved here six years ago,” she said. “Bought sixty acres of nothing with her inheritance, and half the town decided who she was before she’d finished unpacking. A Silicon Valley brat spending tech money on a vanity project. People smiled to her face and placed bets behind her back on how long she’d last.”
I stayed quiet. Sensed she wasn’t done.
“You have to understand this town,” Kaya continued. “It runs on old families. Ranching dynasties that go back four, five generations. People whose grandparents built the church and whose names are on the road signs. And when those families lose ground, when the money dries up or the land gets sold off, they don’t just lose property. They lose standing. And standing is the only currency that matters here.”
She paused, like she was deciding how much to say.
“Denise’s people used to be one of those families. Her grandmother owned half the valley at one point. Now Denise works for the outsider who bought land that used to be theirs.” Kaya shrugged, but the gesture wasn’t casual. “Most people around here handled the shift fine. Some didn’t. And Rose walked into all of that without knowing any of it, because nobody told her. They just watched.”
Kaya leaned forward slightly.
“Do you have any idea how hard she worked for people to justseeher? Not the money. Not the dead parents. Not the sad orphan story. Just Rose, the woman who runs a ranch and takes care of horses nobody else wants.”
The words landed somewhere I couldn’t defend.
“And now,” Kaya said, her voice dropping, “every single person in this town will see a video of her in the arms of one of the most famous people on YouTube. And they’ll not see Rose the rancher anymore. They’ll see the girl who got mixed up with some celebrity. The outsider who brought the circus to town.”
“I didn’t post?—”
Kaya held up a hand. “Doesn’t matter. Somebody did and the damage is the same. She spent years building a reputation, a place where shebelonged. And one viral video just reduced all of it to gossip.”
I sat down on the edge of the bed because my legs didn’t feel reliable.
“Is Rose okay?” I asked, and heard how stupid the question was even as it left my mouth.
Kaya looked at me for a long beat. “She’s not answering her phone. Still in her cabin. So no, Graham. I don’t think she’s okay.”
Neither of us spoke. There wasn’t anything to say that would have helped.
“I was going to tell her,” I said quietly. “Yesterday. Dex told me?—”
“But you didn’t.”
I flinched. Because she was right.
Kaya stood up, smoothing her jacket like the conversation was a task she’d completed.
“Look,” she said, and for the first time her tone softened toward sympathy. “I’m not going to pretend I didn’t fangirl a little when I realized who you were. The skydiving episode in New Zealand? Incredible.”
I huffed something that wasn’t quite a laugh.
“But Rose is my friend,” she continued. “My boss. And the most stubbornly good person I know. So if you’re planning to apologize, save your breath. Just fucking leave. She doesn’t need your circus.”
“I’m not leaving. Not until she tells me to.”
“No?” Kaya walked to the door and paused with her hand on the frame. “Then fix it.”
