Chapter 13
Lindsay
My phone rings at five thirty in the morning, and my father’s name on the screen immediately sends my stomach into knots. Nothing good ever comes from Henry Caldwell calling before dawn. “Dad?” I answer, trying to keep the worry out of my voice.
“Lindsay, I need you to see something immediately. Check your email.” His tone carries controlled tension. “Environmental Action Network is running an exposé about Caldwell Industries this morning, and they’re specifically targeting you and your rural advocacy work.”
I’m already reaching for my laptop with Josh stirring beside me as my stress pheromones fill the bedroom. “What kind of exposé?”
“It paints you as a corporate spy sent to infiltrate sustainable agriculture communities.” My father’s voice is grim. “They’re calling your ranch work a greenwashing scheme designed to rehabilitate our company’s image while we continue harmful practices behind the scenes.”
The laptop screen fills with a devastating headline: “Corporate Agriculture’s New Strategy: Caldwell Heiress Plays Farmer to Deceive Rural Communities.
” My stomach drops as I scan the article, which includes photos of me at ranch events and quotes from unnamed sources calling my engagement to Josh a “calculated public relations move.”
“This is character assassination,” I say, my stubborn nature making me want to fight back immediately. “They didn’t even contact me for comment.”
“They didn’t contact anyone from Caldwell Industries. The whole piece is based on speculation and anonymous sources.” My father’s frustration is audible. “Despite that, it’s already being picked up by other environmental publications and social media.”
Josh sits up beside me, instantly alert. “What’s wrong?”
I hand him the laptop, watching his expression darken as he reads. The protective anger radiating from him makes my own fight response spike higher.
“Lindsay, this could seriously damage both your credibility and the new division’s effectiveness.” My father sounds genuinely concerned, which I interpret as concern for me personally and my goals, not just the company’s image. “We need to respond immediately.”
I’m out of bed and pacing now, my energy building as I think through options. “A corporate press release will just make us look more defensive.”
Josh sets down the laptop and looks at me seriously. “What if we don’t respond corporately? What if we respond practically?”
I turn to face him. “What do you mean?”
“We could invite them here? Let them see what we’re actually doing instead of speculating about it.” He stands, moving toward me with an air of calm, his pheromones soothing mine until they start to be less noticeable. “If they think this is all fake, prove them wrong.”
My father’s voice comes through the phone speaker. “That’s a significant risk. If they’re determined to find fault—”
“They’ll find it whether we cooperate or not.” I’m already seeing the possibilities. “If we’re transparent, we control the narrative instead of reacting to theirs.”
Josh nods. “We’ve got nothing to hide. Our practices are exactly what Lindsay’s been advocating for.”
I move back to the phone. “Dad, I need to go. Josh and I are going to figure out how to handle this. I’ll call you back in an hour.”
After I hang up, Josh wraps his arms around me. The familiar comfort of his scent helps calm my agitated state. I lean into his warmth, considering our options. “Are you sure about opening the ranch to environmental activists who already think I’m a fraud?”
He rests his chin on the crown of my head. “I’m sure because if we don’t take control of this story, it’ll control us. Besides, what are they going to find? That we’re actually implementing sustainable practices? That our engagement is real?” He snorts. “The shock of it all.”
I appreciate his attempt at humor, but I’m still quietly obsessing. “They might try to create problems where none exist.”
“Let them try.” He says it firmly. “We know the truth. If they’re determined to ignore it, there’s not much we can do but weather the storm, and I have your back.”
I turn to put my arms around his shoulders. “Thank you. I have yours too.”
Three hours later, we’re standing in the barn briefing Miguel and the crew about what’s coming. Word has already spread through the local ranching community, and tension is visible in everyone’s postures. Pheromones flood the barn from human and shifter alike, mostly revealing anxiety.
Miguel crosses his arms, his weathered face showing skepticism. “These environmental people are coming here to what, exactly?”
Josh explains patiently. “To verify that our operation actually follows the sustainable practices Lindsay’s been promoting. They think it’s all fake and designed to make Caldwell Industries look good while launching her new division.”
Eddie looks indignant. “That’s ridiculous. We’ve been doing most of this stuff since before she got here.”
I step forward, and all gazes turn to me. “I know that, and you know that, but they don’t. They’re going to inspect everything, including our grazing rotation, water management, waste disposal, and animal welfare practices. They want to find evidence that this is all corporate theater.”
One of the younger hands shifts nervously. “What if they don’t like what they see?”
Josh’s voice carries calm authority. “We’ll deal with that when it happens, but I’m not changing how we operate because some activists have preconceived notions.” He smiles at the younger man. “Just be honest and answer anything that’s a common question and not too personal, and you’ll be fine.”
Miguel nods approvingly. “When are they coming?”
“Environmental Action Network plus journalists from three agriculture publications will descend upon us tomorrow morning.” I take a breath. “It’s going to be a long day.”
Miguel’s tone suggests he’s looking forward to the challenge. “We’ll be ready. Anyone who thinks this operation is fake hasn’t been shoveling real manure for the past month.” He gives a wistful smile. “I sure would like to give them the hands-on opportunity.”
His comment breaks the tension, and several crew members chuckle, easing some of my anxiety along with theirs.
These people have accepted me as part of their community, and they’re willing to stand with Josh and me against outside criticism.
It feels good to have their support, though I wish I didn’t need to test it like this.
I look around at their faces, seeing determination instead of doubt. “Thank all of you. This could get complicated, but knowing you’re with us means everything.”
Eddie says simply, “You’re one of us now. We take care of our own.”
The activists arrive the next morning in a convoy of hybrid vehicles and one biodiesel van, their serious expressions making it clear they expect to uncover environmental crimes.
Dr. Helga Wilitz, the lead investigator for Environmental Action Network, introduces herself with professional courtesy that doesn’t quite hide her skepticism.
I catch the scent of fox shifter on her, along with something that might be hawk shifter from one of the journalists.
Her handshake is firm, and her dark eyes are assessing. “Ms. Caldwell, thank you for agreeing to this inspection. I’ll be honest. Many of my colleagues think this is a waste of time. They believe your operation is purely for show.”
I gesture toward the main barn. “Let’s show them they’re wrong. Where would you like to start?”
For the next six hours, Josh and I lead the group through every aspect of our operation.
We show them our rotational grazing system, explain our water conservation methods, and demonstrate our waste management practices.
Josh’s expertise shines as he discusses soil health, carbon sequestration, and biodiversity enhancement.
Mark Rivera, a journalist from Sustainable Agriculture Today, stops to examine our pasture rotation markers more closely.
The scent of deer shifter clings to him, which probably explains his particular interest in our wildlife preservation efforts.
“This pasture rotation system is genuinely impressive. How long have you been implementing it?”
Josh says matter-of-factly, “About three years. We started small and expanded as we saw results.”
Dr. Wilitz turns from where she’s been photographing our composting system, her tone neutral but pointed. “Before or after Ms. Caldwell became involved?”
“Before. Lindsay’s helped us optimize some practices and connect with new markets, but the core sustainability work was already in progress.” Josh’s answer carries quiet confidence. “She didn’t create this operation. She joined it.”
As the day progresses, I see the activists’ skepticism gradually give way to grudging respect.
Our practices aren’t performative. They’re integral to how the ranch operates.
The financial records Josh shares show profit improvements from sustainable methods, not expenses justified by public relations value.
Dr. Wilitz crouches beside one of our soil testing stations, examining the data with obvious expertise. “Your soil carbon measurements are remarkable. These improvements in organic matter content represent genuine environmental benefit.”
I’m careful to keep my tone professional rather than defensive.
“That’s the goal. Environmental sustainability and economic viability aren’t mutually exclusive when you implement practices correctly.
I believe family farmers are uniquely positioned to respond more efficiently than commercial farms because the farmers and ranchers know their land, and they have the authority to enact real change at a real, tangible level. ”
She stands, brushing dirt from her hands. “How does your role with Caldwell Industries factor into this operation?”