Chapter 11
The next morning Heather woke early, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings of the guest room before remembering the events that had led her to stay at the main house.
She could hear movement downstairs, the clink of coffee cups, the low murmur of voices, and the occasional bark from one of the dogs. It felt surprisingly homey, as though she belonged here among the controlled chaos of the Watkins household.
After dressing quickly in the clothes she'd brought from her cabin, she made her way down to the kitchen. The scene that greeted her made her pause in the doorway, a smile tugging at her lips despite her lingering anxiety.
Lyle stood at the stove, flipping pancakes while Charlotte sat at the table, carefully measuring out dog food for the puppies.
Joe was already settled in his usual spot, laptop open and coffee in hand, while Mike moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, pulling ingredients from various cabinets.
"Morning, Firefly," Lyle said without turning around, somehow sensing her presence. "Coffee's fresh."
"Thanks."
She moved to pour herself a cup, trying not to feel self-conscious about essentially camping out in their home. "I should probably head back to my place. The dogs will need—"
"Already taken care of," Joe interrupted, not looking up from his screen. "Kenny went over early this morning to feed and exercise them."
Heather blinked. “Didn’t he need a key?”
“We have a master to all the cabins,” Mike said.
"Oh. Well, he didn't have to."
"We take care of our own," Mike said simply, sliding a plate of bacon onto the table. "Besides, Kenny needed the distraction. He's been brooding more than usual lately."
"It's the anniversary," Lyle explained quietly, catching Heather's questioning look. "Of when his team was ambushed. It's a tough time of year for him."
Heather nodded, understanding dawning. She'd heard whispers about Kenny's military service, about the losses he'd endured. It seemed the Watkins family carried their share of battle scars, both visible and hidden.
"Miss Heather!" Charlotte exclaimed, finally noticing her presence. "Uncle Lyle's making chocolate chip pancakes! And Pepper didn't have any accidents last night!"
"That's wonderful," Heather said, grateful for the little girl's ability to brighten any moment. "You're doing such a good job with the training."
"Speaking of training," Joe said, finally looking up from his computer, "I've been doing some more digging into our friend Mr. Richards."
Lyle set a stack of pancakes on the table, grabbed a bottle of syrup and took a seat, his expression serious. "What did you find?"
"Well, it's definitely his company that put in the competing bid on the property. And get this. He's got a pattern of similar moves in other towns. Finds successful small businesses, particularly ones owned by women, and basically forces them into selling by creating impossible situations."
Heather's hands tightened around her coffee cup. "But why target my business? I'm not exactly a corporate giant."
"No, but you've got a solid reputation in the industry.
Your training methods are becoming well-known, and your success rate with rescue dogs is impressive.
" Joe turned his laptop around so they could see the screen.
"Look at this. Articles from three different trade magazines featuring your work and the work of the dogs you’ve trained.
You're making headlines, whether you realize it or not. "
"Miss Heather's famous?" Charlotte asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
"She sure is, squirt," Lyle said, ruffling Charlotte's hair. "And that's why some not-so-nice people might want to take advantage."
Heather felt warmth spread through her chest at the pride in Lyle's voice, even as worry gnawed at her stomach. Bret had never shown pride in her accomplishments. "But what about last night? That truck... you don't think Darren Richards would go so far as to try to intimidate me, do you?"
"It's possible," Lyle said carefully. "But given what you told me about your ex-husband, we need to consider both threats." His jaw tightened. "Either way, you're not staying alone at that cabin anymore."
"Lyle—"
"He's right," Mike chimed in, joining them at the table. "At least until we figure out what's going on. We've got plenty of room here."
Charlotte bounced in her seat. "You can stay in my room! We can have sleepovers with the puppies!"
Despite her instinct to protest, to maintain her independence, Heather felt herself warming to the idea. The thought of facing either Bret or Darren Richards alone made her stomach churn.
“It’s not just me you’re taking on. I’ve got six dogs and their crates as well.”
“I’ll get a couple of the guys to help you move them,” Joe offered.
"Okay," she said finally. "But just until we sort this out. And I'm still going about my regular business. I won't let them intimidate me into hiding."
"Wouldn't expect anything less," Lyle said, his hand finding hers under the table and squeezing gently.
Joe cleared his throat. "I've got some calls out to my contacts about both Richards and your ex. Should have more information soon. In the meantime, we'll get you set up here and figure out our next move with the property situation."
"I still can't believe he outbid me by that much," Heather mused, picking at her pancakes. "It seems personal somehow."
"It is personal," Lyle said firmly. "He's trying to force your hand. But we're not going to let him win."
"Lyle's offer to help with the funding still stands," Mike added, his expression serious despite the syrup dripping from his fork. "No strings attached."
Heather looked around the table at these men who had somehow become her support system. The thought of accepting help still made her uncomfortable, but maybe it was time to let down her walls a little.
"I'll think about it," she said softly.
"That's all we're asking," Lyle replied, and the warmth in his voice made her heart skip.
Just then, Kenny appeared in the doorway, his expression grim. "You might want to come see this."
They all followed Kenny out to Heather's cabin, where red spray paint marred the white siding with a crude threat. ‘YOU WERE WARNED’ was scrawled across side wall.
Heather felt her knees go weak, but Lyle's steady presence beside her kept her upright. "This is exactly what Bret used to do," she whispered. "Intimidation. Threats. Making me feel like nowhere was safe."
"Well, he picked the wrong town this time," Kenny said, his voice hard with anger. "And the wrong family to mess with."
Joe was already on his phone, calling the sheriff, while Mike examined the paint with a professional eye. "This is fresh," he said. "Couldn't have been too much more than an hour ago."
“Probably right before I let the dogs out,” Kenny agreed.
Charlotte tugged at Heather's hand. "Don't be scared, Miss Heather. The Watkins boys always win. That's what my daddy used to say."
Despite everything, Heather felt a smile tug at her lips. "Is that so?"
"Clearly, your daddy was a wise man," Mike said, winking at Charlotte.
Tires crunching on gravel had them all tensing. The four Watkins boys, as Charlotte had called them, reached for weapons Heather just now realized they carried.
“It’s Frank,” she said, recognizing his Ford pickup. Lori was riding shotgun. They both got out and scooped Heather into a hug.
Heather felt something strengthen inside her. Yes, she was scared. Yes, the thought of facing either Bret or Darren Richards made her stomach churn. But she wasn't alone.
She had a family. Not just Frank and Lori, but the Watkins family, too. And family, she was learning, made all the difference.
Sheriff Tucker arrived shortly after, his expression grim as he surveyed the damage. He took photos of the spray-painted threat and gathered statements from everyone, particularly interested in Kenny's timeline of events.
"I've got deputies patrolling the area," he said, tucking his notebook away. "And I've put out an APB on both vehicles—the red crew cab and Richards' black SUV. But without plates, we don't have much to go on."
"What about security footage?" Frank asked, his arm still protectively around his sister.
"Joe's already working on installing cameras at the cabins," Lyle said. "But that won't help us with what's already happened. The existing cameras only cover the main house."
The sheriff nodded. "I've also reached out to the Houston PD about your ex-husband, Heather. They'll send over his file, including any restraining orders or complaints."
"Thank you," Heather said softly.
"Meanwhile," the sheriff continued, "I want you all to stay vigilant. Document everything. And don't hesitate to call if anything else happens."
As the sheriff's car disappeared down the driveway, Lyle turned to Heather. "Let's get your things moved to the main house."
She nodded, grateful for the practical task to focus on. "The dogs—"
"We've got room in the barn," Mike interrupted. "There's that empty storage room we can convert. It's temperature controlled and close to the house."
"It’ll work for a temporary kennel," Kenny agreed.
Charlotte tugged at Heather's sleeve. "Can I help?"
"Of course you can, sweetheart."
For the next few hours, they worked as a team to relocate Heather and her dogs. The men carried crates and supplies while Heather, Charlotte and Lori handled the animals, making sure each one was comfortable in their new space.
By mid-afternoon, Frank and Lori headed back home with stern warnings to keep them in the loop.
Between all of them, they had transformed the storage room into a cozy kennel area, complete with beds, toys, and even a small play space.
The dogs seemed to adapt quickly, especially with Charlotte's enthusiastic attention.
"This might actually work better for training," Heather mused, watching as Holly supervised the puppies' playtime.
Charlotte had retrieved Pepper and Sherry from the house, not wanting them to feel left out.
"There’s actually more space here, and the ranch guests might enjoy seeing the dogs in action. "
"See?" Lyle said, coming up behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist. "Sometimes accepting help leads to unexpected benefits."
She leaned back against him, allowing herself to draw strength from his presence. His body felt strong and masculine, awakening feelings inside her that had been dormant for a very long time.
Lyle Watkins made her yearn.
"I'm starting to figure that out," she said, reveling in the warmth of his body pressed against her back coupled with the sweet smell of hay surrounding them and the low of cows in the distance.
"Good," he murmured, his lips brushing her temple. "Because I've got a lot more help to offer, if you'll let me."
Before she could respond, Joe appeared in the doorway. "Got something," he said, his expression intense. "You both need to see this."
They followed Joe back to the main house, where his laptop displayed several documents. "We found a connection between Richards and your ex-husband," he said without preamble.
Heather felt her blood run cold. "What?"
"They worked for the same company about five years ago. Different departments, but definitely crossed paths. And get this—Richards' company has been buying up properties all around Houston, including some that Bret McGowen was involved with through his engineering firm."
"So they're working together?" Lyle asked, his arm tightening around Heather.
"It sure looks that way. And there's more." Joe clicked through several screens. "Remember those lawsuits against Richards? Two of them involved women who had previously been married to business associates of his. In both cases, the women alleged harassment and intimidation after their divorces."
"A pattern," Heather whispered.
"Exactly. And now it seems they might both be after you. Richards for your business, and Bret..."
"For revenge," she finished, her voice hollow. “Bret is a sore loser and being forced into a divorce settlement made him angry. I thought once the divorce was final, it would be over. I just don’t understand why now? Why wait so long? And why would he hire someone to intimidate me?” She hated the vulnerability that had crept into her voice but couldn’t suppress it. "What do we do?"
"We fight back," Lyle said simply. "It’s not a crime to outbid someone on a real estate purchase, but destruction of property and stalking are illegal.”
“I’ve got a military buddy in the FBI,” Joe said.
“We’ll see if we can exert a little pressure and get Richards to back off.
Your ex seems to be hiding in the shadows.
Even though everything points to him as the mastermind, we don’t have anything to pin on him.
But you can be sure we’ll look hard—and make sure he knows we’re on to him. ”
"And make it clear that you're not alone,” Lyle added. “I’m sorry to say, Firefly, but your ex strikes me as somewhat of a coward. And we can be a little scary when warranted."
Heather looked between the brothers, then out the window where she could see Mike and Kenny discussing something with grim expressions, while Charlotte played with the dogs nearby.
This makeshift family that had formed around her was more than she'd ever expected to find after fleeing her marriage.
After vowing to never again give up an inch of control to anyone.
"Okay," she said finally, squaring her shoulders. "Let's fight back."