Chapter 20
Smoke and Mirrors
Austin
Frost, along with the end of Fall, bit the air.
Montana was funny that way. It worked on its own time.
Today, the frost showed up overnight, leaving a trail of glittering ice along the fence rails, the grass, and the tips of the trees, painting the pastures in a brittle light.
With winter on the way, it was a reminder that I had a lot to do before the first snow hit.
Milly had made a project out of cataloging Penny’s ledgers over the last few days—stacking, labeling. She’d mutter little victories every time she found something worth keeping: small trinkets, little love notes from someone overseas named Landon, and several photos of Penny and her mother, Evelyn.
That was until the doorbell rang, and the UPS driver brought the table heating elements.
She’d bounced out of here, excited to plug them in and see if they kept the exam tables heated.
Penny had already wired for heated stall floors, heating, air conditioning, a freezer, and a fridge—pretty much anything to open the clinic.
All we had to do was plug them in. That’s what gave Milly the idea to heat the metal exam tables.
Milly had already been in the barn for part of the morning, cleaning out the old closet and priming the walls for a new coat of paint.
She’d chosen a soft white, almost a hint of grey.
The radio hummed, she sang off-key, and Inspector lay in front of the heater she dragged out until the electrician hooked up the power, which should be on Thursday—fingers crossed.
She would be off generator power, another step toward opening the clinic.
Twenty minutes later, I heard a whooping from the barn before she ran out and launched herself into my arms.
“They work. They work. They work.” She bounced up and down, making it hard to keep a hold on her.
“Good. No cold furry feet or cold furry butts in the winter. You know you’re going to spoil the animals.”
“Shucks, Austin. Ya caught me.” She snapped her fingers, smiled back, then shivered.
“Come on, let’s get you inside. You didn’t even grab your jacket.”
As the two of us made our way back, a small glint from the east fence line shimmered.
It’s just the sun off the snow, I told myself.
Still, something felt off. I couldn’t place it, but my old military instincts had moved to DEFCON 4.
Not in danger yet, but awareness—or “double-take”—level.
So far, it was just a faint static that told me to stay alert.
It looked like the animals felt it too: Sherlock pawed at his newly secured and goat-proof fence line, Inspector, and even the horses kept their heads high, watching the tree line.
When we got back in the house, Milly bounced ahead of me, already filling her coffee and working on the big cedar chest from the loft. The lid was propped open, and her humming filled the kitchen. Faded documents lay across the wood table like a treasure hunt.
“You weren’t kidding when you said she kept records,” I said, setting my mug down.
“I know, right?” Milly’s smile was worth a thousand treasures.
“She kept everything—documents, pictures, pressed flowers, even a silk scarf that was folded in an envelope.” Her enthusiasm sounded like she had found the lost city of Atlantis rather than an old trunk.
“Receipts, postcards, a canceled check from 2009… and these.” She slid a bundle across the table.
I untied the twine. Inside were deeds—storefronts in town, a feed-mill share, even a rental house near the river. Several I didn’t recognize right away but might be stock or shareholder documents.
“None of that was in the will?” I asked, knowing it wasn’t but just making sure.
She shook her head. “Maybe she forgot—” She was ill in the end,” Milly tried to rationalize.
“Penny didn’t forget anything, Milly. Even when she was sick.” I thumbed through the pages. “She hid these on purpose.”
“If she wanted them hidden, why leave them for me and in the loft?”
“Because she wanted you to find them, and not Harold.”
“Let’s call Browne,” she said finally, a little nervous.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Browne. He picked up on the second ring.
“Good morning, Austin. How’s it going?” I winked at Milly and nodded for her to take over.
“Good morning, Mr. Browne,” Milly began.
“Um, I know it’s kind of early, but we found a few documents hidden in an old trunk in the barn.
I don’t know exactly what they are, but they look…
important. A packet of deeds, a few investment and stock papers.
There are a few others too. All with signatures, stamps, and seals and stuff.
Um, I feel that things could get pretty hairy if these fell into the wrong hands.
Should we bring them over for you to look at?
” Milly started to stack the papers absently.
“No, no,” Browne let out a knowing chuckle.
“Ah,” he said after a pause. “Looks like the two of you have discovered the contingency plan. Those documents are genuine, all right, and only valid if they’re original, but they’re held in escrow until completion of your one-year term.
Once the conditions of residence and operation are met, they’ll transfer into your name. ”
“So she planned on an insurance clause,” I said.
“You could call it that,” he replied. “She wanted to ensure the estate could sustain itself if… external pressures arose. As you know, that’s a high possibility.”
“External pressures like Harold?” Milly asked, sounding unimpressed.
“I can neither confirm nor deny until the term concludes,” Browne said smoothly. “Keep them safe, Ms. Thomas. Penelope had faith you’d see it through.”
“But why leave them in an old trunk and not a safe?” I asked, knowing my training.
“Knew if there was ever a break-in, they would go straight for it. Besides, Penny was a little unconventional. Y’all have a good day.” Browne laughed as the line went dead.
Milly just stared at the papers as if contemplating her next move.
“She left me a safety net,” she said. “Like she knew Harold would try to break it.”
“She didn’t just leave you a net,” I said. “She left you leverage. The second those deeds go public, Harold loses every advantage—but until then…”
“Until then,” she finished, “he’ll want them.”
We both looked at the stack again. Ink, seals, and signatures—proof that Penny trusted her niece, and bait for anyone greedy enough to chase it.
Milly slid them back into the chest.
“If the safe isn’t safe, then what?”
“Safety deposit box,” I suggested.
“Good idea. I wonder why Penny didn’t use one,” she said. “I’ll open one in town when I go for chicken worms and supplies.” She caught my expression and smiled faintly. “Don’t look so grim. For once, we’re ahead.”
“Maybe.”
She rolled her eyes, gathered all the papers from the box—important or not—and placed them in a bag, slinging it over her shoulder.
“I’m running into town for primer and mail. Do you want anything?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Can you bring Levi back?”
She laughed, kissed my cheek, and giggled as she walked out the door. The warmth of her kiss lingered. She had a way of doing that.
“Try not to get dramatic while I’m gone.”
“I make no promises.”
When her truck pulled out, the yard fell quiet. I poured another cup of coffee and sat on the porch, watching the road. The wind bent the grass in a slow ripple. I laughed. A vision of the Loch Ness Monster swimming beneath the grassy surface came to mind.
Maybe it was nothing. But Penny’s words from the box kept looping in my head—Some things are worth fighting for.
I tightened my grip on the mug.
The horses shifted, uneasy. Sherlock and Inspector stared past me toward the trees.
That’s when I saw it: a glint, low in the brush. Glass? Metal? A lens catching the sun? My military senses were tingling.
Every muscle I had went still. I narrowed my eyes and set my coffee down on the deck table, keeping my gaze on that patch of shadow, waiting for the next flicker. Nothing. Only the breeze.
Still, the feeling stuck—the sense of being watched from just beyond the fence.
I walked the fence line, checked the outbuildings, and checked the gate. By the time I got back to the house, the sound of Milly’s truck floated up the lane, with Levi’s pickup close behind.
She hopped out with a gallon of primer and a bag from the bakery. Levi climbed out of his truck, already chewing.
“You rang?” he asked.
“Yeah. Thought you could use some unpaid work.”
“Best kind,” he said.
Milly handed me a donut from the bakery bag. “You okay?”
“Fine. Thought I saw a ghost.”
“Black sedan?” Levi guessed.
“No, just a flash of glass in the shadows.”
He nodded knowingly. “I hate flashing ghosts.” His sarcasm was laced with concern.
“No, just keep your eye open.”
“You feel it too?” Levi asked, watching me roll my shoulders. “Just keep it subtle.”
He tipped an imaginary hat. “When am I not subtle?”
“Do you want the list alphabetically or by incident?” Milly said, grinning despite herself.
Levi mock-saluted, laughed, and climbed back into his truck. Dust trailed behind him down the drive.
“Guess I’ll paint,” she said, setting the primer near the barn door. Milly smiled and vanished inside the barn, humming a happy tune. A few minutes later, the sound of music drifted through the open door.
On my rounds, I saw three cows from the far pasture near the creek bend.
“Darn it. Another broken fence,” I mumbled, glaring at the clear break.
“How are you doing this?” I asked one of them.
Making my way back to the feed barn, I grabbed a bale of hay and a bucket of grain and headed back to the fence.
By the time I got back, there were six cows out, but when one saw the hay on the back of the UTV, they all followed me right back into the pasture.
While I fixed the fence, I thought to myself: I’ve gone from military special ops to accountant to bodyguard-rancher. What a path.