Atlee
Miss you. See you at 5.
Those simple words steady me and remind me what I’m fighting for. Not just the ranch, not just clearing our names, but a future with her. A life together that’s not shadowed by threats and fear.
For that, I’d take on Noah, the Morrisons, and anyone else who stands in our way. Judging by the reaction in town today, we might not have to face them alone after all.
TWENTY-THREE
ATLEE
The pharmacy is unusuallybusy today. It seems like everybody who lives in Grizzly River has suddenly developed a need for cold medicine, vitamins, or prescription refills. But I’m not naïve enough to think it’s coincidental, not with the way they’re all looking at me, offering small smiles or nods of acknowledgment that go beyond the usual small-town friendliness.
Mrs. Henderson, who is picking up her blood pressure medication, lingers at the counter after I hand her the white paper bag.
“Your young man,” she says, her voice lowered conspiratorially. “He’s got real courage, that one.”
I blink, caught off guard. “I’m sorry?”
“Devlin,” she clarifies, as if I might be confused about which “young man” she means. “Standing up to the Morrisons like that. My Harold always said someone needed to put Richard in his place, but nobody had the guts. Until now.”
“Oh,” I say, unsure how to respond. “Well, thank you.”
She pats my hand, her arthritic fingers surprisingly strong. “You hold on to him, dear. Men like that don’t come along every day.”
As she shuffles away, I catch Payton watching me from where she’s restocking the shelves, a knowing smirk on her face.
“What was that about?” I ask once Mrs. Henderson is out of earshot.
Payton abandons her task, coming over to lean against the counter. “You really don’t know? It’s all anyone in town is talking about.”
My stomach tightens. “The arrests?” Or is the article that I have to pretend like I know nothing about?
“No. Well…yes, that too, but mostly the article.” She reaches behind the counter, producing a copy of theGrizzly River Gazettethat I hadn’t noticed before. “Front page.”
I take the paper, my eyes immediately drawn to the bold headline.
“Morrison Land Grab Threatens County Water Rights.”
Beneath it is a detailed exposé about Project Watershed, how Richard Morrison and his family have been systematically buying up land around the county’s water sources, and positioning themselves to control who gets water access and at what price.
The article quotes anonymous sources close to the investigation, detailing not just the land purchases but also backroom deals with county officials, including Deputy Noah Sanchez, who reportedly helped pressure reluctant landowners to sell.
“Oh my god, it actually came out,” I breathe in a whisper, scanning through the damning accusations. No wonder the town is buzzing.
“Yeah,” Payton says, a hint of admiration in her voice. “And word is, your boyfriend and his brothers are the ones who exposed it all. Got arrested for their trouble too.”
“That’s why everyone’s been looking at me like that,” I realize, thinking back on the parade of customers who’ve passed through today, each with a knowing look or encouraging word.
“You’re dating a local hero,” Payton confirms. “How does it feel?”
I’m not sure how to answer that. Pride swells in my chest at the thought of Devlin standing up to the Morrisons, risking everything to protect the other ranchers. But fear coils alongside it. This is all out in the open now.
“It feels…” I search for the right word. “Complicated.”
Payton laughs. “I bet. Well, brace yourself, because you’ve got another admirer incoming.”
I look up to see Mr. Daniels, who owns the hardware store down the street, approaching the counter with a prescription slip in hand.
