“I think you’re getting close. Your loops are consistent, and your timing’s improving.” Morrie accepted a plate from Sierra. “But competition’s different from practice. Lots of distractions, other kids watching.”
“I’m not worried about other kids.” Huck’s chin came up with characteristic determination. “Grandpa Elway always said if you know you can do something, other people’s opinions don’t matter.”
“Smart man, your great-grandfather.” Morrie’s gaze connected with hers, then back to Huck. “He’d be proud of how you’re coming along.”
Sierra blinked back tears as she drained the pasta water and mixed the noodles with sauce. Simple food, but it filled the kitchen with warmth and the illusion of normalcy. For a few minutes, she could pretend they were just a regular family sitting down to dinner, not a single mother trying to hold together a failing ranch.
The phone rang just as she was serving the pasta.
“Let it ring,” Morrie said quietly.
But Sierra was already moving toward the phone, driven by the same compulsion that made her check on cattle in the middle of the night and balance the books until her eyes burned. You couldn’t solve problems by ignoring them.
“Blackwood Ranch.”
“Sierra, honey, it’s Mayor Jenkins. How are you holding up?”
Seriously.
Sierra gripped the phone tighter, her free hand resting on the kitchen counter.
“I’m fine, Mayor. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about our conversation after Elway’s funeral. About the challenges you’re facing with the ranch.” A pause that managed to sound both sympathetic and calculating. “I heard you had more trouble with rustlers.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“We’re neighbors, Sierra. Of course I’d know. And neighbors need to look out for each other.” Another pause. “That’s actually why I’m calling. I’ve got a proposal that might help with your situation.”
Sierra caught Morrie’s eye across the kitchen table. He was watching her carefully, his expression grim.
“What kind of proposal?”
“Well, I know you’re struggling to keep up with the ranch payments, especially with the cattle thefts and all. Must be hard, trying to manage everything on your own.” Jenkins’s voice carried just enough pity to make her teeth clench. “I’d like to make you an offer on the property. Fair market value, cash deal, quick closing.”
“The ranch isn’t for sale.”
“Now, I understand your attachment to the place. Elway raised you there, and it’s got sentimental value. But sentiment doesn’t pay bills or put food on the table.” His tone shifted slightly, becoming more businesslike. “I’m prepared to offer you two hundred thousand, cash. That’s more than enough to pay off your debts and get yourself established somewhere else. Maybe closer to the city, where Huck could have better opportunities.”
Two hundred thousand dollars? As if. Add another zero and…
No, not even then. “Like I said, it’s not for sale.”
“I’m trying to help you here. These cattle thefts aren’t going to stop, and you can’t afford to keep losing livestock. Pretty soon, you won’t have anything left to sell.”
“Then do something about it. Find the rustlers. Morrie says you’re losing cattle too.”
“Well, we’re looking into it, of course. Sheriff’s department is investigating, but these things take time. Professional cattle thieves are smart, they know how to cover their tracks.” A pause. “Hard to catch people when they know the area as well as the locals do.”
Wait. What? “Do you think someone local is involved?”
She glanced at Morrie.
“I don’t know. But the offer stands, Sierra. Think about what’s best for you and that boy of yours. Elway wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your future for a piece of land.”
Was that a threat? She opened her mouth to retort, but the line went dead.
Sierra hung up the phone, trying not to shake.
