Chapter 6 Sawyer
CHAPTER SIX
Sawyer
The day starts the same as any other. Numbers, spreadsheets, nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve got everything in front of me. It’s quiet, and I prefer it that way.
No surprises, no drama. Just the numbers and me.
But then Clint bursts in with the look of a man who’s just swallowed a live hornet, upending my entire day.
“Clint?” I glance up, already feeling the shift. “You good?”
His jaw’s tight, his shoulders stiff. I don’t like that look in his eyes one bit.
“There’s been some damage on the west side,” he snaps.
He doesn’t sit down, just stares through me, waiting for me to get it.
“How bad?”
“Fencing’s torn down. Couple posts broken.” He pauses, watching my reaction closely. “Doesn’t feel right, Sawyer.”
I put my pen down and close the laptop, scanning his face for something more. Anything to explain the urgency. But Clint doesn’t get worked up unless it’s real.
I stand. “You think someone did it on purpose?”
Clint doesn’t look at me when he responds. “Could be. But I’m not taking chances.”
“Alright. Let’s go see it.”
We’re out of the office and heading down the hall without another word. We drive toward the west side. The land is quiet, too quiet. The kind that makes you feel something’s waiting to pounce.
When we get there, I see it right away. The damage is worse than I thought. One section of the fence is completely down, posts shattered like they were snapped in half by a sledgehammer.
There’s no way this happened naturally.
Clint’s already crouched by the broken posts, running his hand over the splintered wood. He mutters under his breath.
“This isn’t from the storm. Not like this.”
I walk over, studying it, making quick calculations in my head.
“Someone did this.” It’s obvious. No point in pretending otherwise. “But who?”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” he says, rough with the tension in his chest. “Could be kids… but I don’t know. This feels… too deliberate.”
I cross my arms, squinting at the damage again. Kids messing around would’ve been more careless. This? This looks methodical.
“Could be,” I say, though not convinced. “But there’s not a whole lot of kids around here anymore. What about rival ranchers?”
Clint rubs the back of his neck, eyes narrowing.
“Maybe. But we’ve got a good relationship with the other ranches. Willow, Ironwood, Dusty Spur. They’d never do something like this. But there are others, I suppose…”
My jaw clenches. “I don’t like thinking that way, but we can’t rule anything out.”
Clint looks out across the field, the quiet rolling hills of the west side now tainted by the destruction. “What if it’s not kids or another rancher? What if it’s someone else entirely?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Who?”
Clint’s expression darkens. “Hell if I know. But think about it: someone with a vested interest in pushing the ranch to sell. Someone who stands to gain if we’re cornered.”
“That’s the worst possibility of all. Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet.” I hold my hands up in a calming gesture, knowing Clint’s temper can get the best of him when it comes to the ranch. “For now, I think we should focus on fixing this. Then we can work out who’s behind it all.”
“I’ll walk the fence line,” Clint replies with a sigh. “You want to get Reid? All hands on deck.”
I nod and turn on my heels as my thoughts race at a million miles an hour. This is a cost High Ridge Ranch really doesn’t need at the moment.
Things haven’t been good for a while now, and I don’t think it’s just the economy affecting our cattle sales. Although I don’t know what the true reason is.
Trust me, I’ve been trying to figure it out.
“Hey, Reid.” I find him stroking his favorite cow, Betsy, with a smile on his face. “We need your help.”
“Huh? You do?” He meets my eyes. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve got damage on the west side of the fence line. Need your help fixing it up.”
Reid’s eyes light up with mischief. “Oh, damn. The storm?”
“Definitely not. Fencing’s torn down, posts busted like someone took a sledgehammer to it. I need your help with the wire.”
Reid pushes off the hay bale and heads toward me, grabbing a tool belt from the ground. “Sounds like fun. And I’m guessing Clint’s… not impressed.”
I give him a look. “He’s pissed, that’s for sure.”
Reid’s grin fades just a little. “Yeah, I thought as much. Don’t worry. We’ll fix it up.”
We walk quickly toward the west side of the ranch. Clint’s already off, walking the fence line alone.
His figure is distant, head lowered as he inspects the damage. The tension in his shoulders is hard to miss, and I can’t help but feel it myself.
This isn’t just a broken fence. This is something more.
Potentially something really bad.
We reach the damage, and Reid whistles under his breath. “Damn, someone really went to town on this.”
I nod. This wasn’t an accident. Whoever did this had one goal: to make a statement.
Reid kneels to get a closer look at the wire. “So, what do you think? Some kids being stupid?”
I shake my head. “No way. Kids wouldn’t know how to tear it down like this.”
He gives a low chuckle. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Kids these days can’t even change a tire, let alone wreck a fence this way. Could be someone with a little more experience.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” I murmur, looking around. “Could be a rival rancher, though Clint doesn’t seem to think so. I think he’s more suspicious of the landowners in this area.”
Reid rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Buck Realty can be quite intense, but this forceful? I don’t know about that.”
I give Reid a quick glance as we crouch beside the wrecked fence. “Clint’s right to be suspicious, though. He doesn’t get worked up this bad unless something’s off. And this? This feels personal.”
“Could be.” Reid grabs a pair of pliers and starts working on the wire. “But I’d rather get this fixed up before Clint starts looking like he’s about to throw someone off a cliff.”
I smile at that. It’s true. Clint’s temper, though controlled, can flare up in a hurry when it comes to things he cares about.
This ranch? It’s his world. It was his father’s, once upon a time, and he might not say it, but I know Clint wants to make his memory proud.
Reid stretches, cracking his back as he stands up. “So, have you heard about that new woman in town?”
I give him a sidelong glance, already knowing where this is going. “What woman?”
“Dakota Fletcher,” Reid says, his tone light but with an edge of excitement. “She used to live here, and she’s back for a while. I met her in The Old Mill Café the other day.”
I raise an eyebrow, trying to hide the surprise. “Oh, yeah?”
Reid grins wide, clearly smitten. “Oh, hell yeah. She’s got these wild auburn curls, and her smile? Man, she’s got that look in her eye like she’s already figured me out.”
I chuckle. “Sounds like you’re already planning your first date.”
Reid shrugs, grinning ear to ear. “I think so…”
“First date with who?”
Holy hell, I did not hear Clint returning.
“Newbie in town.” Reid smiles. “Dakota Fletcher.”
The air seems to vanish.
My stomach tightens, spotting the way his posture stiffens at the mention of Dakota. His jaw tightens, and for a split second, his eyes flash with something.
Anger? Confusion? Hell, I don’t know, but it’s there.
“Oh yeah? What about her?”
Reid clearly doesn’t hear the slight growl in Clint’s voice. “I think she might be the one to finally bring some excitement to this sleepy little town.”
I narrow my gaze. Is that a tinge of redness in Clint’s cheeks? What the hell is going on?
Clint doesn’t respond right away. His gaze is fixed on Reid, but he’s staring through him to somewhere far off. The muscles in his neck flex, and I can see the tension in his shoulders growing.
Reid, ever oblivious, continues to chat, clearly thrilled to have something to talk about. “Yeah, I met her at The Old Mill. She’s got this whole vibe, you know? Kind of mysterious but friendly. She’s got a kid, too. Cute little guy. I want to ask her out, is all.”
Clint’s hands tighten around the tool he’s holding.
I’m not sure if he’s trying to break it or if he’s just trying to keep from snapping. He’s holding something in, and the pressure’s building.
Reid looks at Clint. “Do you know her? She went to high school here.”
I watch Clint closely. He’s standing just a little too still, his eyes narrowing sharply. His jaw sets even tighter, and then, as if realizing how quiet it’s gotten, he finally fully looks at Reid.
“Yeah,” Clint finally mutters, “I know her.”
The way he says it sends a ripple of unease through me. It’s not just a casual acknowledgment. No, there’s a history there.
One Clint’s clearly not eager to talk about, but damn, it’s there.
Not good.
Especially if Reid wants to ask her out.
“We should get back to work, right?” I interject, needing to concentrate on what’s important here. I’ve never known them to fight over a woman before, and I don’t want it to start now. “We need to get this fence back up.”
They nod and agree with me, but I can’t shake the feeling that this is trouble, and that it’s going to come back up again. I just hope it doesn’t add to the stress of the ranch.
We have enough going on as it is.