“I’ve been in this business for fifteen years, and I’ve seen a lot of folks face this kind of loss. You’ve had more than your share—parents, grandfather, now this barn. That’s an awful lot for one person to carry.”
“It is.”
“But here’s what I’ve learned. When life gets this hard, you’ve got two choices. Give up, or believe that something bigger than yourself is going to carry you through it.” Cecily’s brown eyes met hers. “Psalm 73 talks about having no one in heaven but the Lord, no one on earth besides Him. That’s not about being alone—it’s about knowing who’s really in control when everything else falls apart.”
Sierra’s breath caught.
“Art and I lost our first baby. Miscarriage at six months.” Cecily’s voice remained steady, but Sierra could see the old pain in her eyes. “Thought my world was ending. But sometimes the Lord has to strip everything away before He can show us what He’s really building.”
Tears burned Sierra’s eyes. “How do you keep believing when it feels like you’re losing everything?”
“Because losing everything teaches you that the things you can’t lose are the only ones that really matter.” Cecily gave her a soft smile. “Family, faith, love. Those are the foundations that don’t burn, honey.”
We’re going to build something beautiful here. The three of us. I promise.
Yes. Yes, they were.
“You know what I think?” Cecily said, taking more pictures. “I think your daddy built you that fort for times exactly like this. Sometimes we all need a safe place to figure out our next move.”
“Even when the fort burns down?”
“Especially then. Because that’s when you learn that the real castle was never the boards and blankets anyway. It was the love that built it.”
Sierra’s throat tightened with emotion. “I want to rebuild. I want to believe this place has a future.”
“Then that’s what we’ll make happen.” Cecily made notes on her clipboard. “I’ll have the preliminary report filed by tomorrow, and we’ll get a check issued.”
“Just like that?”
“Honey, I’ve been watching you handle this crisis with more grace than most people manage on their best days. You’ve got ranch hands who respect you, a son who adores you, and unless I’m much mistaken, a good man working on your fences who looks at you like you hung the moon.” Cecily smiled. “That’s Rowan Wallace, isn’t it?”
“You recognize him?”
“I recognize the boy in the man I saw. He looked at you that same way even back then. Except, I thought he died.”
“It’s complicated.”
“It looks pretty simple to me.” She winked.
Heat crept up Sierra’s neck. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to someone who’s been married for twenty-three years.” Cecily chuckled. “The way he kept glancing over here? As if to make sure you were okay? Either he’s very dedicated to his job, or very dedicated to you.”
Sierra looked toward the fence line where Rowan and Morrie had been working. They’d finished and were nowhere to be seen. They’d probably gone to join the other hands.
Cecily finished her assessment, and they were walking back toward their vehicles when the sound of hoofbeats caught Sierra’s attention. She turned to see Rowan riding hard toward them, his horse’s hooves throwing up clouds of dust as they approached at a pace that made Sierra’s pulse spike.
Something was wrong.
Rowan pulled up short, the horse dancing beneath him as he swung down from the saddle as if he’d been born in it. His face was grim, jaw set in a way that made Sierra’s stomach clench with dread.
“Sierra.” He glanced at Cecily, his voice low. “I need you to come with me.”
“Why? What’s wrong? More cattle missing?”
Rowan’s eyes met hers, and she saw something there that made her blood run cold.
“No,” he said quietly. “Worse. We have half a dozen head of cattle in the southwest pasture. And they’re all sick or dying. Whoever is stealing your cattle has escalated to simply killing them.”
