See, the intent was always to keep the farm with Gage. That was never in question, but understanding how things change and learning to adapt is a Hollis curse. I’ll say this to you both, hoping you’re standing here together as you read this, but this ranch was never meant to be shouldered by one person, one man.
This ranch was built on the backs of family and a passion for the love of what we do. That’s what keeps us growing and keeps the place thriving. I trusted your daddy, Sloane, when he came in to help this ranch, and if you’re half as smart as he is, then I know I can trust you to do the same.
My final words are to Gage: do not do this alone, and do not push this young woman away. Do not allow your inner turmoil to leave you a bitter man, unable to seek help when necessary, and instead open yourself up to opportunities, whatever those may be. You deserve happiness, so stop running away and start chasing it.
Uncle Sam
>>>
I sit back and wipe away the tears that have formed, surprised by how deeply it hits me over the words of a man I never even met.
If anything, I’ve been searching for ways to connect to this place and find reasons to care ever since I got here, but now I think I finally know why I do. It isn’t fully because of my father, though that sure helps—it’s Gage.
It’s always been about Gage.
Even when we were at odds, wanting to do everything possible to get under each other’s skin, everything I did was still for Gage. I could have found a way around the shares, found the liens sooner, but in reality, I never wanted to hurt him.
I cared more about proving that I was never here to be malicious. Yes, I was essentially forced, but I wanted to do the right thing.
And I did.
I continue to do so, but now it feels like, regardless of all we did, it won’t be enough.
Those liens are a vulnerable spot for the ranch, and unless they’re bought out of lien status, they’ll always remain vulnerable to eminent domain. So even if I didn’t sign the deal with Horizon, there’s still a chance they could get it anyway.
I refuse to let them take away any piece of land from this place, not while I’m still part-owner.
I push the chair closer to the desk and go through the file cabinet, searching for the financial books and lien information.
Gage managed to get the accountant to send over all the documentation when he found out about the liens, and since we got closer, he’s become more transparent with everything collected.
I haven’t looked through all of it yet, mostly because I’ve been too focused on the sabotage and restoring security to the ranch, letting everything else take a backseat. Now seems like as good a time as any, especially when the future of the ranch hangs by a thread.
When I left the county commissioner’s office, a strange feeling followed me back to my car. Something told me Roger wasn’t going to accept me walking away so easily.
He was hanging everything on this deal, and based on how he carries himself, I’d bet he gets an incredibly hefty commission once he secures it.
The Hollis Ranch is one of the last truly desirable parcels in the area, central to the best views and not far from the current construction.
While Gage’s aunt’s home is still in Bell River, the land isn’t as large, and the view, while still pretty, doesn’t compare to Hollis.
I worked with guys like Roger back in Austin. The most lucrative return on investment isn’t the construction—it’s the long-term value.
Out here, that value is the seclusion and the view. And with these liens still in place, I know Roger will find a way to work around them, especially now that he knows I’m having doubts.
I start sifting through the papers, reading word for word, page by page, searching for anything that can help solidify a pathway forward. I take notes on a nearby notepad, crunch numbers using my phone’s calculator, and begin working through a possible plan.
Hours pass, and I don’t even know if Gage is home or not, but finding him isn’t important anymore. Well, it is—just not at this very moment.
I want to explain everything to him, tell him that I couldn’t do it, that I couldn’t sell, but I don’t want to say anything until I have another way out of all this.
I want to make things right with him, even though I have nothing to really apologize for.
Despite knowing I didn’t do anything wrong, I still feel guilty for putting him in the position I did. I planteddoubts in his head that he could lose the place he loved, his home, all because I couldn’t handle him not being completely truthful with me—but it was more than that.
I felt like we were back at square one. Like he didn’t trust me and that I was a threat, something standing in the way of his goals, despite that never being the case.
That realization killed me—almost as much as discovering he was trying to figure out how to get me out of the picture to save his ranch.
