Almost.
I feel myself getting emotional again as my mind drifts back to that night while I write down the total from my phone. I wipe away a tear trailing down my cheek before it can land on the notepad.
Then I stop writing and look at the full extent of my number crunching.
The notepad is full, and as I read it over, an idea finally clicks. I take a deep breath and let it out in disbelief.
“Holy shit,” I say aloud.
I think we can save this place, get the land out of lien status, and stop worrying about Horizon Group breathing down our necks.
They still can, technically. Any land developer can request a meeting, seek out an owner, and push for a potentialsale, but without the liens, it’s far easier to tell them to kick rocks than it is now.
We can still say no, but as long as the liens exist, there are loopholes waiting to be exploited because they’re on borrowed time. Without paying them off, we’re essentially leaving everything up to county action.
It’s a horrible position to be in, and knowing neither of us can technically touch any of it until the six months are up makes the approaching expiration date even harder to ignore.
The plan is quite simple.
The lien status expires before our six months are fully up, meaning the land becomes vulnerable to county seizure or forced sale—and that’s exactly the opening Horizon Group is waiting for.
If I sold to them now, I’d benefit from the sale; however, if it falls out of lien status and they buy, I get nothing from it. Since the plan isn’t to sell it now, that part is moot.
The goal is to beat the liens before the expiration date, and there is only one way to do that: joint ownership.
Samuel’s intent was always to have this place under a joint partnership.
In his will, there’s a stipulation that allows for purchasing power, provided there is a joint partnership; bothparties must agree to those purchasing powers and create a joint deal.
I’m beginning to think these liens were placed not because he had to, but to test Gage’s willpower.
He didn’t know me, so he had no preconceived notions outside of my father, but I like to believe he always wanted what was best for Gage—and testing him sounds like something he would’ve done.
It’s a crazy thought, placing the ranch on the line like that, but the point is, the plan is viable. We can still save this place completely, but we have to be willing to come together as a united front, reclaim those pieces, and keep them as far away from Horizon’s greedy palms as possible.
The question now is: will Gage agree to it? That, I don’t know.
It’s hard to tell where his head is at right now. When I expected him to be angry with me for even considering a sale with Horizon, he did nothing. It’s like he built his walls back up all over again, and now I have to work even harder to tear them down.
But he’s worth it—even if he doesn’t know it yet.
twenty-two
Gage
While driving to Fred’s place, thoughts keep creeping up inside of me about what I’m going to do when I see his face.
Honestly, I want to punch the guy, but what will that do besides land me with an assault charge? It wouldn’t solve any of the problems I’m already drowning in.
I guess I can add another thing Sloane has changed in me. Before her, I probably would’ve just punched him without a second thought.
I’d have done everything possible to make his life a living hell, consequences be damned—but now I’m thinking about what comes after, and what that kind of choice would mean in the long run.
First off, he had no idea what he was in for. He doesn’t even have the slightest clue that I know what he did, and I’m convinced he’ll deny it until he’s blue in the face. He can’t, though.
I have the footage to prove it—his slimy, bearded face plastered across the computer screen back at the ranch. Every piece of evidence will be handed over, and when it is, his life as he knows it is done.
I wish I could find enjoyment in that, but honestly, all I feel is a tight, uncomfortable knot of regret.
