by Cora Seton
“I don’t know how to sugar coat this so I’ll just blurt it out,” Bart began. “We were wandering around the Ridley property.”
“Just for the heck of it,” Maggie put in hurriedly. “We don’t really think we’ll win the contest.”
“We stumbled on something. It looked like someone was already using the property, planting a crop.”
Tory frowned. “Nobody should be using it yet.”
“Exactly,” Maggie said. “Especially not for an illegal harvest.”
“Illegal?”
Bart cleared his throat. “We checked it out. It wasn’t tomatoes or peas, if you catch my drift. Someone’s growing—” He looked to his wife, as if asking for help.
“Pot,” Maggie said bluntly. “They’re growing pot.”
Tory’s heart sank. Just like thirteen years ago, if Olivia was to be believed. But her father and William were gone. Who had planted it this time around?
“Did you call it in?” she asked.
Bart shifted. “We wanted to mention it to Lance first. In case—you know.”
“In case it’s ours.” She wanted to be indignant, but how could she be given her family’s past? “Go ahead and tell anyone you want to,” she said. “It’s not my family’s.” She hoped she was right about that.
“We’ll just leave it alone.” Bart held his hands out wide. “We don’t want any trouble.”
Tory didn’t want any trouble, either, but apparently she didn’t get a say. She watched Bart and Maggie drive off, then heaved a sigh and texted Liam.
He’d sounded upset and she wanted to be there for him, but she needed to be there for her family first.
Normally Liam didn’t mind eating alone, but today was different. Even though Tory had promised to make it up to him, he couldn’t help wondering about her real reason for canceling lunch. When he’d talked to her just minutes ago, she’d seemed happy to come and meet him. Then she’d called back with a vague excuse about being needed at home. He didn’t know what to make of that. Hanging out had been easy at Runaway Lake, but ever since they’d been home, it had gotten much more complicated. Uncle Jed had been on his case earlier about the Founder’s prize again. Who knew what Tory was dealing with at Thorn Hill?
He shouldn’t even be wasting time eating lunch in town. Between the organic certification inspection and the hospital fundraising plan, he had plenty to do. He should zip home and get a start on brainstorming ideas before it was time to come back and pick up Leslie and his mother. Without Gary’s help he wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed, though. What if he secured funds and the hospital refused to take them? He needed to do some kind of grassroots organizing, get people fired up about saving the dialysis unit and make a big enough stink the hospital had to take them seriously.
That meant calling some kind of meeting. He’d invite the nurses from the dialysis unit. Ask them to invite their friends. Put the word out—but carefully. He couldn’t let the Coopers—or the Lawsons, the other rivals for the prize—find out about it. It didn’t feel right not telling Tory, though.
Why did they have to be on opposite sides?
Suddenly, he felt more sympathetic for Noah and Maya. You couldn’t help who you liked, even if they were supposed to be your enemies. It was hard to remember Tory wasn’t an ally, especially when he thought of her at the lake, stripped down to her skivvies, soaking wet.
Liam got his thoughts under control, ate quickly, figured he still had a few hours and got into his truck. He meant to go straight home, but his route out of town took him past Rafters, a watering hole that served an older clientele than the Dancing Boot. He found himself parking and heading inside, arguing in his head the whole time. He’d just have one to help him get past his fury at Gary—and his longing for Tory, he told himself, then get himself home and back to work. He’d had a stressful day. He deserved a break.
“You look like a man who’s been kicked in the gut by his favorite horse,” Holt Matheson said, taking the seat beside his a few minutes after Liam sat down at the bar. He was a middle-aged man, the father of four sons Liam had gone to school with.
Liam shrugged. “You ever feel like life doesn’t want you to accomplish anything good, no matter what you try to do?”
Holt studied him. “What is it you’ve been trying to do?”
Liam gave him a brief overview of his work trying to get organic certification for the Flying W as well as trying to keep the hospital’s dialysis wing from closing.
“Organic, huh? That’s a lot to take on,” Holt said. Liam wasn’t sure if the older man thought much of the plan, but at least he didn’t bad-mouth it.
“You think I should just give up?”
“Never said anything of the sort. The way I figure, two things are worth fighting for, even if it’s hard: your family and your land. Especially land that’s been in the family a long time.”
Liam sighed. “Sometimes I’m not sure how to fight for either of them.”
“You sure won’t find the answers in there.” Holt pointed to the beer on the bar in front of Liam.
Hell, who was Holt to tell him he wasn’t allowed to relax a little, given everything he was dealing with? He opened his mouth to say as much but thought better of it.
“You’re right,” he admitted. “Never did find much wisdom in the bottom of a bottle. Still tastes good.” He took a long drink, then deliberately stopped himself, dropped the money he owed on the bar and stood up. “There’s a third thing worth fighting for,” he added. “The woman you love.”
Holt met his gaze. “That goes without saying.”
When Tory had first returned to Thorn Hill, she’d refused to ride any of the horses in the stables, not because she thought there was anything wrong with them but because she missed Starlight, missed riding altogether and was afraid if she started up with it again now she’d never be able to make herself leave Chance Creek behind when the time came.
Now she knew she’d be here three years at least, and it seemed silly to stay away. Besides, riding horseback would allow her to cut directly across the ranch to the Ridley property without being seen driving there on the road. She wanted to know what was going on there, even though she knew it was probably a bad idea.
She’d been hung up on the phone with Megan for some time after Bart and Maggie left. Megan had called to ask if she wanted to get coffee. Since she had to decline, she made sure to stay on the line long enough to shoot the breeze a little, not wanting Megan to think she didn’t want to be friends. If she was going to stay here for three years, she needed something to do in her off hours—and she couldn’t always hang out with Liam.
Much as she’d like to.
She was happy to find the stables empty, no one to watch her fumble as she saddled the horse she’d chosen, a mare named Lily. Soon enough she was out on one of the trails that crisscrossed the property. She stopped at the border between the two ranches, fished her phone out of her purse and called Steel. As far as she could tell from here, nothing was stirring on the Ridley property, but plenty of brush and even small trees had grown after years of neglect. Who knew if anyone was lurking around the place?
“Why the hell is there a pot crop on the Ridley property?” she asked without preamble when Steel picked up. She urged Starlight on at a walk.
“Don’t tell me you’re there.”
“I’m there. So you knew about it? Did you plant it? What the hell is going on, Steel?”
“Better you don’t know.”
“Someone stumbled onto it. You should be glad they came to me and didn’t report it to the sheriff.” She wasn’t about to name Bart and Maggie. “I know you like your secrets, but it doesn’t look like this one will stay quiet for long.”
The run-down Ridley house was visible on the far side of the creek. The old barn and other outbuildings were on this side. Tory knew a wide, low bridge connected the two halves of the property. She kept going through the overgrown fields and pastures until she spotted a couple of ou
tbuildings tucked into a copse of trees that had grown up around them since the ranch was abandoned. The buildings weren’t visible from the street, and they were as old and dilapidated as anything else on the ranch, except… they weren’t. Not really, Tory realized as she drew closer. Brush had been cut back around their doorways. If she wasn’t mistaken, someone had run electricity out here. And water. A long hose cut through the tall grass.
Beyond the buildings was another field surrounded by a tall, overgrown hedgerow. A small path wound from the nearest outbuilding through a break in the bushes and opened onto a verdant green field. She dismounted, phone still to her ear, ducked through the hedge and whistled.
It was a heck of a crop.
“Tory, get the hell out of there,” Steel growled in her ear.
“You should have told us what you’re doing here,” she hissed, unable to make herself speak out loud even if she was alone out here. “You’re putting all of us in danger.” She’d seen enough. Eager to get away from the illicit crop, she ducked back through the hedgerow, tucked her phone in her pocket for the moment so she could remount Lily, lifted a foot to the stirrup, swung herself up—and froze.
Something had moved in the closest outbuilding.
Lily sidestepped with an anxious little nicker.
“Easy,” she whispered, pulling her phone out again.
“…has anything to do with you. Get out of there now,” Steel was saying when she pressed it to her ear.
Tory hardly dared to breathe, let alone move. She kept her gaze on the grimy window of the outbuilding, unable to make out anything distinct in there. Was it a person or something else? A bird or an animal—
Was it one of Steel’s shady friends?
“Tory? You still there?”
“Someone’s here,” she whispered into the phone.
“Who?”
She could almost see Steel spring into action, although of course she had no idea where he was or what he was doing. He was coming to save her—she knew it.
If he wasn’t close, he wouldn’t get here in time.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “He’s in one of the buildings. Something’s in there, anyway. I’m outside—on Lily.”
“Tory, listen to me. Turn Lily around and ride like hell. You hear me? Don’t stop for anything.”
“But—”
“Right now. Right this very second. One, two, three—go!”
Tory turned Lily and rode like the wind.
Chapter Ten
The following morning, Liam decided he’d done all he could to prepare for the inspection. Now it was out of his hands. This was just a preliminary one, he reminded himself, to make sure the Flying W was set to proceed via organic principles. It would still be three years before the ranch could start labeling its beef organic. If he got it wrong this time, however, it would take even longer for that three-year stint to start. He was impatient to get going. He hadn’t heard again from Tory, and he hadn’t texted her, either, not wanting to crowd her. She was a woman who valued her independence. He respected that.
He stepped out of the barn and scanned the surrounding pastures. Maybe the grass was yellowing and the dirt was cracked, but Liam didn’t think there was any place on earth more beautiful. This was his home. The land was in his blood. Always would be, no matter what happened next.
Still, he felt jittery as a cat being stalked by a coyote. When he’d led his football team years ago, only one thing had helped him calm his nerves before a game, but he wasn’t about to reach for a bottle now. Maybe a nice long walk would have the same effect. At the very least, he’d get a good reminder of what he was working so hard to save.
Liam let his feet lead him where they would, and twenty minutes later he found himself at the fence that separated the Flying W from the Ridley property. Getting organic certification was an important step, but the only thing that would stop his mother was giving her something other than the Flying W to sell. Uncle Jed would kick up a storm of protest if they did, but he’d leave Jed and Mary to fight that out between them.
One thing at a time.
Liam opened an old gate in the fence and kept walking, letting the unfamiliar terrain take his mind off his own ranch. He could afford to spend an hour or two thinking about something other than the Flying W.
Couldn’t he?
Liam sighed as doubts crept in. He picked up his pace, trying harder to relax. It didn’t seem to help. He passed the ramshackle house and followed a track to the bridge that spanned Pittance Creek. He paused for a moment to take in the sluggish trickle of water beneath. Surely it had to rain soon. Eager to put those worries behind him, he kept going toward the old outbuildings. Only their roofs were visible over all the brush and trees that had grown up around them.
Who had he inherited this tendency to overthink things from? Certainly not his father. William Turner didn’t have that gene. He’d been an implacable and steadfast man, whether leading his high school football team to victory, if the stories Liam had heard were right, or organizing the ranch hands to overcome some crisis.
Nothing like him, as Jed was all too quick to point out.
Liam stopped in the shade of one of the upstart saplings to get his thoughts under control. His father had been in amazing shape for a man his age, always finding the energy to toss a ball or roughhouse with his children after a long day of ranching. How did a man like that come to die of a heart attack?
Maybe William had carried more stress on the inside than he ever let on.
Before Liam could follow that line of thought any farther, his ears picked up a sound—men talking. Who else was trespassing on Ridley property?
Liam moved toward them cautiously. The voices weren’t over by the buildings. They seemed to emanate from the far side of an overgrown hedgerow he’d noticed on previous occasions when he crossed this way but never investigated any closer. After a few minutes, he found a faint path through the thick brush and stopped short when he reached the other side.
Hell, that was pot—a whole field of it.
Who the hell had planted it?
He couldn’t help where his mind went. This part of the Ridley property bordered Cooper land. The Coopers always seemed to be involved when things got sketchy.
Was that Steel and Lance he’d heard talking?
He wanted to turn on his heel and walk away, but Maya and Noah were both married to Coopers. If Lance or Olivia was involved with this somehow, Liam needed to know.
Was Tory a part of it?
He didn’t want to believe it. Then again, this looked like a substantial operation. His father had been a sheriff’s deputy, as had Uncle Jed. He’d heard them talk about busting growers, both one-man quick-cash schemes and more serious criminal elements. Liam thought he could tell the difference.
He held still, searching for the men whose voices he’d heard, but they must have moved away. Should he follow them? He’d taken a step forward when a man Liam didn’t recognize emerged from a track that cut through the hedgerow on the opposite side of the field.
Hell. That was a shotgun in his hands.
Liam ducked among the bushes on his side, getting scraped and punctured by thorns for his trouble. He waited there for a long time until he heard the man remark to someone else, “Must have been seeing things. There’s no one around. Kinda skittish after that girl showed up yesterday.” A few minutes later he heard the door to one of the nearby outbuildings slam.
He needed to get out of here.
Liam pushed through the bushes to the far side of the hedgerow and edged along it until he got close to the boundary between the Ridley property and Thorn Hill, wondering about the girl the man had mentioned. Could he mean Tory? Something had changed her mind about coming to meet him yesterday.
He made a wide loop through the Coopers’ ranch and cut back over to his own downstream. Once on his own land, he broke into a loping run, heading straight across the pasture, not stopping until he reached the barn.
&nb
sp; That had been far too close for comfort, and he wasn’t sure what to do next. Call the sheriff? He wished he knew for certain who was growing that crop. He didn’t know the man defending it, but he could be working for anyone, including Steel. Liam doubted it would help his case with Tory if he turned her brother in to the authorities.
What if Tory was involved herself, though? Had she been flirting with him to keep him close so she’d know if he or any of his family stumbled on the operation? Or was it someone else altogether growing the pot? Someone who wouldn’t like it if Tory had discovered the operation?
Liam shook himself, pacing around the barn. One thing was for sure—something had to be done about the man with the shotgun. Anyone could walk onto the Ridley property and get hurt. He needed to take the bull by the horns. Call Steel and confront him with this. Take it from there when he knew the Coopers’ involvement with it.
He pulled out his phone, saw the time and swore—no time for calls right now. The inspectors were due any minute. He’d confront Steel the moment they were gone, he promised himself as he exited the barn and headed up to the house. Meanwhile, he texted Tory, needing to know she was okay.
You around?
Yeah.
That was all she said, but it was all he needed to know right now.
Just checking in.
Reaching the house, he put his phone aside and hurried to get ready.
Fifteen minutes later, after the fastest shower in history, Liam stood on the porch in a clean set of clothes, his paperwork neatly organized in a binder, and tried to look a lot more confident than he felt as a red Honda Civic pulled up the driveway. As much as he tried to focus, he couldn’t stop thinking about the pot crop, the man with the shotgun and the extent of the Coopers’ involvement in the operation.
A man and a woman got out, coughing on the dust stirred up by the Civic’s wheels. Liam had gotten accustomed to living through the drought, but this pair seemed to be having a rough time of it.