If she'd been cross-referencing a land transfer, it mattered.
Torin didn't dismiss my concern. But he didn't make it into a big deal either. "Maybe she moved it somewhere else.”
"Maybe." I didn't believe that any more than he did.
He turned back to the window and tested the seal one more time before stepping back. "Let's give it a few minutes to settle."
I nodded and led him through the kitchen to the back porch, grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge on the way. The porch steps creaked under our weight, and the land stretched out in front of us. The fence line cut across the valley, the ridge rose in the distance, and the acres that had been in my family for generations sat in between.
I handed him a bottle and unscrewed the cap on mine. For a few moments, we just stood there in the quiet.
Then I asked, "Do people really believe the Hollisters stole that land?"
He didn't answer right away. Just took a long drink of water and stared out toward the fence.
Finally, he said, "People believe whatever story gets repeated long enough."
That answer sat heavy in my chest. I'd built my career on documentation. On facts that could be proven and verified. Stories without evidence didn't sit well with me. They were too fluid, too easy to twist into whatever narrative served someone's agenda.
If this land was mine now, I had a right to understand exactly what that meant. Not the version people whispered at the Merc or the assumptions that had been passed down as gossip. I wanted to know what really happened.
"What if I want to find the truth?" I asked.
Tension tightened Torin's jaw. He wasn't arguing with me, but he was definitely aware of the lines I was brushing up against.
"You think I should leave it alone," I said.
"I think you should be careful."
"That's not the same thing."
"No." He looked at me then, his expression open and honest. "It's not."
I stepped off the porch, needing to move, needing to do something with the restless energy building in my chest. My foot caught on something at the bottom of the stairs, and I stumbled.
Torin reached for me and caught my arm before I could fall flat on my face. Heat shot through me, and for a second neither of us moved.
His hand stayed wrapped around my arm longer than it needed to. My pulse thudded in my ears as my gaze drifted to his mouth before I could stop myself. It had been way too long since I’d been attracted to someone. And Torin wasn’t just anyone.
The air between us felt charged, the space suddenly too small. I dragged my eyes back up to his just as his grip tightened slightly on my arm, like he’d felt the shift too.
Then the sound of tires on gravel came from the edge of the property. I glanced toward the sound. A truck rolled down the dirt road in the distance.
It didn't stop. Just moved slowly enough that I knew whoever was driving had noticed us. Had seen exactly how close Torin was standing.
He stepped back, his hand falling away. Even through my jacket, I missed the warmth of his touch.
“You keep warning me to be careful,” I said. “Is that the deputy talking?”
Torin leaned against the railing, his jaw tightening. “Partly.”
“What’s the other part?”
His gaze moved out across the land before coming back to me. “The part that knows this town sees everything and doesn’t forget anything.”
I cleared my throat and turned back toward the porch. "You know the fate of Mustang Mountain doesn’t rest on you, right?"
He followed me up the steps. "Feels that way sometimes."
