I pulled up near the barn where Holt and two of the other hired men were gathered around the chute, dealing with porcupine quills in a curious cow’s nose. They looked up as I approached. Holt straightened first, wiping his hands on a rag.
“You’re back late,” he said.
“Someone was out on Callahan land,” I replied. “Trespassing. Taking pictures near the south fence.”
Holt frowned. “Local?”
“No.” The word came out rough. “He bolted when I confronted him.”
“And you think he’ll come back.” The hands exchanged a look. Holt stepped forward. “What do you need?”
“I want more eyes out that way. Day and night. Anyone on that land that doesn’t belong gets reported to me immediately.”
Holt nodded once, firm. “You got it.”
“Keep it quiet,” I added. “I don’t want her knowing.”
Holt studied me for a long moment. “She won’t like that.”
“I know. But she’s dealing with enough.”
He held my gaze another moment, then nodded again. “We’ll keep watch.” The hands dispersed. Holt lingered.
“You planning on telling her what happened tonight?”
“Not until I have to.”
Holt let out a slow breath. “You care about her more than you should.”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. The truth was too raw and too close.
He didn’t press. “I’ll put the men on rotation.”
“Good.”
I walked toward the house, the night wind caught the edges of my shirt. Stars spread wide above the valley, clear and cold.
Sixteen
Wyatt
The sun was barely up when my phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. I glanced at the screen, expecting a ranch alert or one of the crew asking about feed deliveries.
It was Maddy.
Something in my chest loosened.
I picked it up and leaned my hip against the counter. “Morning, sweetheart.”
Her voice came through bright and still sleepy, full of a kind of energy I hadn’t felt in days. “Dad. Guess what.”
I smiled, slow and tired but real. “What’s that?”
“I nailed my tryout,” she said, pride ringing clear. “Coach says I’m basically a lock.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. You’ve been putting in the work.”
She laughed. “You always say that.”
