Violet loops her arm through mine as we start walking toward the diner. The bell above the door jingles as we pass by it. Millie is behind the counter, always a comforting sight.
The familiar smell of fried food and coffee lingers, making my stomach grumble a little. This place hasn’t changed in years, but in a good way.
Charlie immediately slides into a booth, his eyes lighting up when he spots a stack of coloring pages on the table.
“You want to draw, huh?” I smile at him as he grabs a crayon.
“Yep! I’m drawing horses!” he says, grinning up at me, his sticky hands now firmly holding the crayon. “For books, just like you!”
Violet slides in across from me and leans back, glancing around the diner before turning her attention back to me. “So… how’s the house sale going?”
I try to keep my face neutral, but it’s harder than I thought. I exhale, running a hand through my hair. “It’s… well, not great. The realtor I’m working with has been kind of a nightmare. I know the house needs work if I’m going to get a decent sum for it. Enough to kinda start again somewhere new, but I’m not quite sure where to begin.”
Violet’s eyes flash, and I can already sense one of her wild ideas coming my way. “You know, Dakota… why not consider staying? I know you’re trying to get away from the past, but Colter Creek could be the fresh start you’re looking for. The school’s great, and the town’s small but full of heart. It’s a good place to raise a kid, especially one who loves horses as much as Charlie.”
I freeze, her words catching me off guard. I’ve been focused on the house sale and trying to move forward, but the idea of staying here, of truly planting roots, has been circling my thoughts more than I want to admit.
Still, I hesitate. I don’t want to make any rash decisions, not when I still don’t have a handle on everything.
Charlie, oblivious to our conversation, suddenly looks up from his coloring, his face lighting up. “Mama,canwe stay? I like it here.”
His eyes are wide with excitement, and my heart squeezes. It’s clear he’s already attached to this place in a way I didn’t expect, and the thought of him loving it so much makes something inside me shift.
I glance at Violet, unsure. “I don’t know, Vi… It’s not that simple. It’s not just about the house or the school. There’s a lot I’ve got to figure out.”
“I know,” she agrees. “But don’t you think it’s time?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Clint
The day’s still early,but the heat’s already starting to creep in. I’m pulling up to the sheriff’s office, my truck’s engine humming low beneath me, the tires crunching against the gravel.
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with that dry, dusty air, and I can feel the past few weeks giving me the worst headache of my life.
Things haven’t been right at the ranch. Too many little incidents, things that don’t add up. But what the hell do I do about it?
The only thing I can do right now is talk to Hank—get him to listen, and maybe he’ll take me seriously.
I get out of the truck and slam the door behind me. I stand there, my boots sinking into the gravel, just trying to steady myself. This damn place, this town, has a way of making you feel everything’s connected. You can’t escape, no matter how far you run.
And I’ve been running from something lately.
Inside, Sheriff Hank Miller’s got his feet kicked up on his desk, sipping on what’s probably his third cup of coffee. He looksup when I walk in, squinting at me over his mug, trying to decide whether I’m here for a friendly chat or to cause trouble.
“Clint,” he says, setting the mug down with a thud. “What brings you in today?”
I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “We need to talk about what’s been going on out at High Ridge. Again.”
Hank raises an eyebrow but lowers his feet from the desk, the chair creaking as he shifts forward. “More issues with the kids causing trouble?”
I grunt, shaking my head. “It’s more than that, and you know it. I’mstillbeing targeted, and I need you to start investigating this time.”
Hank takes a slow sip of his coffee. He’s got a filter in his brain that keeps him from worrying too much about anything that doesn’t immediately jump out at him. “I have been investigating.”
I stare him down, hard. “I don’t think you’re taking me seriously at all, Hank.”
Hank rubs the back of his neck, giving me a tired look. “I asked for proof. You got me proof?”
