As I walk down the steps and head outside, I notice Tommy at the gate and head over. He steps out of his marked sheriff’s SUV and tips his hat at me before shaking my hand. I squint under the sunlight.
The heat is grueling today, evident in his brow and the sweat gathering on the upper lip of his mustache.
“Good morning, Gage. Good to see ya,” he says, and I nod at him.
“Tommy, tell me you got some good news for me.” I know he hasn’t finished his investigation into the break-in—it only happened last night—but I can hope that something, anything, will put an end to this developer breathing down our necks.
“I got some good news, yeah,” he says, handing me a paper in an envelope. “It’s a cease-and-desist order against the developer for the illegal piping.”
I shake my head, grateful that at least something was done about these suits. “Anything else they’re doing about them?”
He nods slowly. “Yep. Their plan is to fine them a large sum, and the board wants to send out a contractor to come out here and remove that water main behind thehouse—said something about replacing the current line with updated equipment since it’s more up to code.”
I nod, holding my hand out to him to shake it again.
“They’re talking temporary shutdown while they inspect,” Tommy adds, quieter now. “Couple weeks, maybe longer, depending on what they find.”
Two weeks without water during peak season isn’t just inconvenient. It’s a chokehold—on livestock, irrigation, and every contract we’re running.
“Thanks for your hard work, Sheriff,” I tell him, and he nods firmly as the door opens and closes behind us. I watch as Sloane walks down the steps, glancing up briefly, smiling softly at me before heading toward the other barn and the office, my eyes never leave her until she disappears inside.
“My, my, my,” he says, and I look at him. He smirks, shaking his head knowingly. Tommy has been the sheriff of Bell River since I was a kid; he’s watched me grow up and even picked me up once or twice when I decided to be rebellious as a teen.
He’s seen me date growing up and seen me with Marlene, but it’s been years since he’s truly seen me outside of ranch obligations like this. I didn’t make it a habit of spending time with the townsfolk because of how miserable I was, so this is fresh for him.
“Don’t say nothing,” I grumble, and he lets out a hearty chuckle.
“All I was gonna say is don’t let this one slip away,” he warns, pointing at me. “She’s a smart one—maybe even a little too smart for you.”
“Yeah, don’t I know it,” I reply, glancing back even though I know she isn’t there—the image of her crossing the ranch still sharp in my mind.
I turn back to Tommy. “All right, let me get out of your hair. See you around, Gage,” he says, tipping his hat one last time before disappearing into his SUV.
As soon as he leaves, I turn and head into the barn. When I step inside, I spot Sloane on the phone, talking animatedly, though I can’t hear a word she’s saying. She has a pen between her fingers, twirling it as she speaks, then tapping the tip against her teeth when she’s listening—focused, decisive, entirely in control.
Watching her like this, in her element, is just another reason I’m completely smitten. It’s one thing toknowshe can handle paperwork, business, even repairs—it’s another thing to see firsthand.
I always assumed that because she was from Austin, she’d be like other women I’d known before. Women who preferred their men to handle the dirty work and hard labor. But Sloane manages to surprise me at every turn.
Would a life with her always be like this? Would I always find something new about her—something I didn’t know yet—and lose myself in her all over again?
She gets off the phone and writes something down, then looks up and gives me the subtle signal I need to step inside. I didn’t want to interrupt, knowing whatever she was handling mattered—but I needed to be sure that cease and desist was filed and locked in.
She looks up and smiles softly. “Hey, is everything okay?” she asks, and I’m guessing she’s referring to Tommy being back here.
“Yeah. Tommy was just stopping by to give us this,” I reply, handing her the envelope.
She takes it from my hand and opens it, scanning the page. I watch her eyes widen, disbelief flickering across her face. “You did it, honey,” I say, leaning against the desk—then immediately realizing what I just called her.
She looks up at me and smirks. “Is it sad that I’m going to miss you calling melittle miss?” she asks, teasing.
I chuckle, suddenly aware of how warm the room feels. “I mean, I still can.”
She stands, closing the distance between us, her smile softening. There’s something else there now—quieter, more personal. I’m starting to think the nickname means more to her than she lets on.
“All right,” I murmur, brushing my fingers through her hair and tucking it behind her ear. “Little miss.”
My voice drops. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to thank you for all the work you put into figuring out the piping and the water issue.”
