Chapter 5 #2
Luke’s gaze shifts between us, calm but sharp, like he’s weighing both sides before he steps in. “It’s not about whether it makes sense,” he says carefully. “It’s about timing, resources, and what it does to everything else we’ve already got going.”
“And what happens if we don’t?” I counter, gesturing toward the box still sitting open on the table. “We just leave that out there? Pretend it’s not tied to something bigger? Hope it doesn’t come back on us?”
That lands, heavy and unavoidable, and I see it in the way Brooks’ jaw tightens slightly, in the way Wade’s attention snaps back to the box like he’s seeing it differently now.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Brooks replies, steady but firmer now. “I’m saying we don’t make a move this big without knowing exactly what we’re stepping into. Especially if this is connected to someone like Colt.”
“It’s already connected,” I say, not raising my voice but not softening it either. “Whether we act on it or not doesn’t change that. It just decides whether we’re ready for it when it comes.”
Silence stretches out again, thicker this time, not just about the house or the land, but about what this could turn into if we’re right.
Wade lets out a low breath. “And the will?” he presses. “You’re asking all of us to sign off on something we didn’t plan for, something that shifts how this place runs, and you want it now, not six months from now when we’ve got a clearer picture.”
“I’m not asking,” I say, meeting his gaze straight on, that’s the truth whether it sits right or not. “I’m telling you this is the direction I’m going, and I need you with me on it.”
That pulls a reaction.
Not anger, not yet, but something close, something that sparks in Wade first before Brooks reins it in with a look. Luke steps forward just enough to keep it from tipping too far.
“Easy,” Luke says, his tone calm but firm. “We’re not fighting each other on this.”
“I’m not fighting,” I answer, dragging a hand through my hair, trying to keep the edge from turning into something else. “I’m making a call based on what’s in front of us. I’m not going to sit on it just because it doesn’t line up with the timeline we had in our heads.”
Brooks studies me for a long second, longer than he needs to if this were just about numbers or logistics, and I can see it in his eyes when he makes the shift, when he stops looking at this like a business decision and starts looking at it for what it actually is.
Something bigger.
“Alright,” he says finally, slow and deliberate. “Then we do it the right way. We look at everything, we plan it out, and we move forward together.”
Wade huffs out a breath, not fully convinced but not walking away either. “You’re serious about this,” he mutters.
“Yeah,” I say, steady as I’ve been all day. “I am. This ranch is making good money now thanks to Brooks.”
Luke nods once, like that settles it enough for now. “Then we start figuring it out tonight,” he says. “All of it. The land, the build, and whatever that box is tied to.”
I glance down at it again, the unease from earlier settling back in where it hasn’t really left, and I nod once.
Because one way or another…
Everything just got tied together.
And there’s no backing out of it now.
The decision doesn’t explode into anything dramatic after that, it settles in the way most things do between us, with a few looks exchanged, a couple of quiet recalculations.
An understanding that none of us are walking away from what’s in front of us even if we’d rather have more time to figure it out.
Brooks is the first to move it forward in a real way, pushing the box closed with a careful hand before setting it aside like he’s already filed it under problems we’re going to solve, not ignore.
“We do this the smart way,” he says, his tone steady but firm.
“We don’t rush the build just because it feels urgent, and we don’t ignore the possibility that whoever put that out there might be watching how we respond. ”
“I’m not rushing it,” I answer, even though there’s still a part of me that wants to put a foundation in the ground tomorrow just to claim the space. “I’m moving on it.”
“There’s a difference,” Luke adds, stepping in closer, his voice calm but grounded in a way that keeps everything from tipping back into tension.
“We can start clearing, lining up permits, getting materials in place, but we’re not cutting corners, and we’re not making ourselves vulnerable while we do it. ”
Wade folds his arms, looking between us like he’s still not thrilled with the timing but isn’t willing to fight it outright anymore. “So we’re all just agreeing this is happening,” he says, more of a statement than a question.
“We’re agreeing we’re not leaving that land exposed,” Brooks corrects, his gaze steady. “And if building out there is the way we lock it down and stay ahead of whatever this is, then yeah, we move on it.”
Wade exhales through his nose, the last of the resistance easing out of his posture.
There’s something else there too, something tighter, more personal than just land or timing.
“Fine,” he mutters. “But I want eyes on that place until something’s in the ground.
Not just plans on paper. Last time something felt off around here, I ignored it, and we all know how that ended. ”
His jaw tightens slightly, and he doesn’t need to say more for all of us to know exactly what he’s talking about, the trouble he had before, the way things spiraled faster than any of us expected.
“And Quinn’s going to want to know about this,” he adds after a second, glancing toward the house like he’s already thinking two steps ahead. “She’s working with Sheriff Adams still, which means if this ties into anything bigger, we don’t sit on it and hope it goes away.”
"Draw up some plans for us to see," Brooks tells me.
“You’ll have them,” I say, that part’s already decided on in my head. “I’ll be out there every day if I have to.”
Luke nods once. “We rotate,” he adds. “No one’s out there alone longer than they need to be until we know what we’re dealing with.”
That sits right, not just because it’s practical, but because it means this isn’t just my call anymore, it’s ours, the way it’s supposed to be even when it gets complicated.
Brooks picks up on that same thread. “I’ll start running numbers tonight,” he says. “If we’re doing a full build, I want to know exactly what it costs us and where we can move things without putting pressure on the rest of the operation.”
“I’ll handle the physical side,” Wade adds, already shifting into it despite himself. “Clearing, equipment, whatever we need to get the ground ready.”
Luke glances at me. “You take point on the layout,” he says. “You’re the one who’s been thinking about it. We’ll make sure it fits everything else.”
I nod, the plan coming together faster than I expected, not because it’s easy, but because once we decide something as a unit, we don’t half-step it.
That’s always been the difference with us.
We argue it out, we push, we question, and then when it matters, we lock in.
Wade shifts his weight and jerks his chin toward the house. “We’ll eat, then we go over it,” he says. “No sense making big decisions on empty stomachs.”
“Now that sounds like a rule we can all agree on,” Brooks mutters.
A faint grin pulls at my mouth despite everything. Even with all of this sitting between us, some things don’t change, and maybe that’s exactly what we need right now.
Whatever Colt’s got tied to our land, whatever he thought he was hiding out there, he’s not the only one making moves anymore.
And this time…
We’re ready for it.
By first light the next morning, the decision has teeth.
There’s no easing into it, no slow roll or second-guessing once the sun comes up over Miller land and burns the last of yesterday’s hesitation out of the air. We move like we always do when something matters, each of us taking a piece and getting to work without waiting to be told twice.
Wade’s already out there before I am. His tractor idling low as he starts clearing a strip along the rise where the ground sits firm and drains right.
The kind of place you build something that’s meant to last. Luke is walking the perimeter with a tape and stakes, marking out lines like he’s drawing the shape of something that doesn’t exist yet but will soon enough.
Brooks pulls up not long after with a stack of folders and a clipboard. Even out here, in the dirt and dust, he’s still thinking in numbers and timelines, making sure what we’re doing doesn’t just feel right, but holds up when everything gets added together.
I take a second when I step out of my truck, letting the scene settle in front of me, the hum of equipment, the scrape of metal against earth, the quiet coordination that comes from years of working side by side, and something in my chest locks in a way that feels solid.
This is happening.
Not later.
Now.
“You’re late,” Wade calls over the noise, not looking up from what he’s doing.
“By five minutes,” I shoot back, grabbing a set of stakes from the bed of my truck. “Try not to fall apart without me.”
“Don’t worry,” he mutters. “We already started without you.”
“Shocking,” I say, but there’s no heat in it.
Luke glances over as I move in, handing me a line. “We’re setting the footprint here,” he says, nodding toward the stretch he’s marked out. “Gives you a clear view of the whole place and keeps you close enough to the fence line without crowding it.”
I follow his line of sight, picturing it as he talks, the walls, the wrap around porch. The way it’ll sit against the land, and it doesn’t take much to see it anymore, not like before when it was just an idea I hadn’t said out loud.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “That’s it.”
Brooks steps in beside us, flipping open his clipboard. “We’ll need to stagger deliveries if we don’t want this turning into a bottleneck,” he says. “Lumber first, then foundation work, then we build up from there. I’ll make calls this afternoon.”
“Do it,” I answer, already driving a stake into the ground with a firm hit that sends a dull thud through the dirt, something about the sound settling deeper than it should.
It’s real.
Each strike after that makes it more so, the outline taking shape one point at a time, and for a while, the work takes over, the rhythm steady enough that the rest of it fades back just enough to let me focus.
But it doesn’t stay gone.
Not with what I found yesterday sitting in the back of my mind like a warning I haven’t figured out how to read yet.
“Keep your eyes open,” I say after a bit, not loud, but enough that all three of them hear it.
Wade snorts. “Was planning on it.”
“More than usual,” I add, meeting his gaze briefly.
That wipes the last of the humor out of it.
“Yeah,” he says, quieter now. “Got it.”
We work through the morning like that, focused and tight, no wasted movement, no unnecessary talk, just getting as much done as we can while the ground is still cool enough to work without fighting it.
By midday, we’ve got the outline staked, a section cleared, and enough progress to make it look like something’s taking root out here, not just an idea we’re kicking around.
I step back to take it in, wiping a hand over the back of my neck, the sun climbing higher and the heat settling in, and for the first time since we started, I let myself breathe a little deeper.
Then I turn toward my truck.
Something’s off.
It’s not obvious at first, just a feeling that doesn’t line up with everything else being exactly where it should be, but the closer I get, the sharper it becomes, the way instinct kicks in before logic has a chance to catch up.
“Jace?” Luke calls, picking up on the shift before I say anything.
I don’t answer right away, just move the last few steps and drop into a crouch beside the front tire, my fingers brushing along the rubber before I even fully register what I’m looking at.
A clean slice.
Not a blowout.
Not wear and tear.
A cut.
Deliberate.
My jaw tightens as I run my hand along the sidewall, feeling where the blade went through, precise and controlled, like whoever did it knew exactly how to make sure it wouldn’t hold once I tried to drive it.
Behind me, boots hit the ground in quick succession.
“What is it?” Wade asks, already closing in.
I straighten slowly, stepping back just enough to give them a clear look. “Take a guess.”
Wade’s expression darkens the second he sees it. “Son of a—” he cuts himself off, dragging a hand over his face.
Brooks crouches down, inspecting it without touching. “This didn’t happen by accident,” he says, which we all already know.
Luke scans the surrounding area, his posture shifting into something sharper, more alert. “Anyone see anything?” he asks.
“No,” Wade answers, too quick. “We’ve been out here all morning.”
“Doesn’t mean they weren’t watching,” I say, my gaze moving over the open land again, every inch of it feeling different now than it did an hour ago.
This isn’t just a warning.
It’s a message.
And whoever left it wanted to make sure I got it.
I look back at the truck, then out at the stretch of land we just started claiming, the stakes driven into the ground, the work already in motion, and something in me settles in a way that feels a lot like resolve.
They don’t want me here.
Too bad.
I’m not backing off.
Not now.
Not from this.
And whoever thinks they can scare me off…
Just made the wrong move.