Literally everything this man does sends me into a fit of anger, and I’m exhausted from carrying it around all day. What I’m looking for is peace and quiet—and that includes finally silencing my thoughts about Gage Hollis.
The farther I walk, the more clearly I hear a bustling creek. The water moves in small ebbs, preserving the stillness of the woods. Its gentle trickle over the rocks makes it feel like I’ve stepped somewhere quiet, tucked away from everything else.
Please, let me stay here forever.
When I look up, something catches my eye, half-buried in the brush and tangle of trees. I step across the larger rock formations to reach the other side of the stream, careful to keep my balance and not slip.
Once my boots hit solid ground, I push through overgrown leaves and branches—and then I see it: a rusty old station.
I walk over and brush some of the rust away to check the levels. They aren’t actively reporting anything; in fact, it doesn’t look like they have been for a long while.
The dials look broken, the panel dented, vines threading through the metal like it’s been forgotten for years. IfI didn’t know any better, I’d think this was the original water main station—but that only raises a bigger question: where’s the new one?
I scan the stretch of forest around me, half-expecting to spot a newer station nearby, but there’s nothing—just trees, brush, and silence.
Strange—and not in the charming, old-Texas way.
So where is the water being tracked?
I look around again, not entirely sure what I’m expecting to find, but this station is clearly outdated and completely useless. It makes me wonder how long it’s been sitting out here, abandoned and unused.
I know Hollis Ranch has been around for several generations, so it’s possible the system was upgraded and relocated—but with modern environmental standards, that’s unlikely. Any update would have replaced the old equipment right here, not quietly moved it elsewhere.
The longer I’m here, the more things stop adding up, and I’m starting to suspect there’s something bigger at play. Gage will never look into it—he’s too stubborn, too set in his ways—and even if I bring it to him, he’ll insist I’m exaggerating or lying.
That leaves me on my own, which means it’s up to me to get to the bottom of it.
I wish I didn’t have to do it alone. I wish that, as my partner in this ranch for the time being, he’d actually work with me to build something instead of shutting me out—but that’s never going to happen. He doesn’t see me as a part-owner, and even if it stings, I can understand why.
On my way out of the woods, I make a mental note to have someone check the station—but for now, it’s time to head back, the heat already creeping up on me. I make my way up the hill, pass the barn, and head inside the main house.
Inside, I pour myself a glass of water to cool down and let myself roam the house, something I’ve barely done since I arrived.
I walk into the living room, take a sip from my glass, and study the photos lining the mantle. What stands out immediately is how much the Hollises value family. Different photos of the same man—who I’m guessing is Samuel—with various family members, including Gage, line the walls.
One old photo catches my attention: a young boy beside the same man, only younger himself. They’re mounting a horse together, both smiling straight into the camera.
I smile softly at it. Even as a child, I can tell right away it’s Gage. It’s strange seeing him smile so freely when all I’ve ever seen are scowls. I know he was a kid back then, butit’s grounding to realize he was happy once—before all of this.
I finish my water and turn to rinse the glass when I hear muffled voices somewhere in the house. I step away from the sink, listening more carefully, trying to place where the sound is coming from. I follow it down the hall and stop at the mudroom door, pressing my ear to the wood.
“I know we spoke earlier, but this can work.” He pauses—long enough for the person on the other end to respond. “She isn’t happy here any more than I am about her being here. If I can get her to leave willingly, then she breaks the clause in the will, and the ranch is completely mine.”
I straighten. My stomach drops. Seriously?
He’s plotting to push me out of here—with someone on the other end of the line?
I know I’m not the easiest person to be around, and I know I’ve come in here and disrupted his routine, but I never claimed I wanted control over this place. Honestly, the only reason I’m trying to do anything for it is so I can leave it in the best possible condition—for Gage.
The question I’m starting to ask myself is: why? Why am I even bothering to try? Why am I putting my best foot forward for a man who wouldn’t even appreciate it?
He thinks he can do and say whatever he wants because he was raised to lead this place, but he’s wrong. He doesn’t get to treat me like garbage, walk all over me, make demands about what I can and can’t do—and he certainly doesn’t get to belittle my character.
I will not allow Gage Hollis to drag me down into the dirt.
I push the swinging door open, and he jumps, turning toward me. His phone is still pressed to his ear as the other person talks on the other end of the line. I can’t make out what’s being said, but Gage looks like a deer in headlights as we lock eyes.
“I’ve got to go, Monty,” he says, hanging up.
