Chapter 6
CLAIRE
The long driveway to my parents' house looked exactly the way I remembered it with fence posts lined up like soldiers, and the big barn sitting in the distance beyond the house. I parked near the side porch, cut the engine, and sat for a moment with my hands still on the wheel.
I could leave. Turn around. Text my mother that something came up with the estate paperwork. But I'd put this off long enough, and I was ready to get it over with.
The front door opened before I made it halfway up the walk. My mother stood framed in the doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, her expression caught somewhere between relief that I’d actually shown up and the urge to reprimand me for staying away so long.
"You're late."
"The traffic was awful," I lied.
She gave me the look that said she knew better but wasn't going to argue in the driveway. "Come on. Everything's getting cold."
Inside, the house smelled like roast beef and yeast rolls, the same Sunday dinner smell that had filled this place for as long as I could remember.
The dining room table was already set with the good dishes she usually saved for company.
Voices carried from the kitchen. Tanner's low rumble alternated with Sadie's sassy replies.
It sounded like they were arguing. Some things never changed.
I followed her into the kitchen, where Tanner leaned against the counter with his arms crossed and Sadie stood at the sink, drying a platter with more force than necessary.
"Finally," Sadie said, glancing over her shoulder. "I was starting to think you'd bailed."
"Tempting," I said.
Tanner's mouth twitched. "Town's already talking about you being back. You know that, right?"
"Of course they are.” My shoulders dropped a notch. “It's Mustang Mountain."
"Ruby asked me three separate times if you’re planning to sell Aunt Lois's place." Tanner leaned closer.
"What'd you tell her?"
"That it wasn't my business." He straightened, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But now I'm asking."
My mother shot him a look. "Tanner. Let her sit down first."
He raised his hands in mock surrender, but the question hung in the air as we moved into the dining room. My father was just taking his seat at the head of the table. He nodded when I came in, his version of a warm welcome.
"Claire. It’s good to have you home."
"Hi, Dad." I went over and gave him a one-armed hug. My family wasn’t the touchy-feely type. The only one who ever gave tight, warm hugs like she meant them was Aunt Lois. I might miss her hugs more than anything else.
We settled into our usual spots with Tanner across from me, Sadie to my left, my mother at the far end nearest the kitchen.
The food made its way around the table in silence, plates filling with pot roast, mashed potatoes, green beans, and deviled eggs sprinkled with smoked paprika.
It was like I’d stepped right back into the past.
"So," my mother said once everyone had helped themselves. "Probate's nearly settled, isn't it?"
I kept my eyes on my plate. "Getting there."
"And after that?"
"After that, I finish sorting through the house and figure out next steps."
"Next steps," my father repeated, his tone flat. "Are you planning on keeping the place? We can’t let it out of the family, but with you in Seattle, I’m sure Tanner wouldn’t mind moving out there."
I cut into my roast, buying myself a few seconds. "I haven't decided what I’m going to do with it yet."
Sadie smiled as she buttered a roll. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I've got right now."
My mother set down her fork, her expression softening in that way that always made me feel like I was ten years old again. "You know you don't have to rush back to Washington, sweetheart. You could stay. Take your time. The house is yours now. The land is yours."
“I have a life in Seattle.”
“Do you?” Tanner’s voice stayed quiet, but it landed hard.
My head snapped up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You haven’t stayed away because you love Seattle so much.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve stayed away because you’ve always hated it here.”
“Tanner,” my mother said, her voice low with warning.
I opened my mouth, ready to argue. The words never came. Because he wasn’t wrong, and we both knew it.
I stabbed a green bean harder than necessary. "I came back to settle the estate. That's all."
"Sure," Sadie said. "That's why you've been poking around in old land records and asking questions about the feud."
My stomach dropped. "How do you—"
"It’s a small town, Claire. People talk." She tilted her head, studying me with that sharp, assessing look she'd perfected over the years. "So what is it you're really looking for?"
I set my fork down, forcing my voice to stay level. "Aunt Lois left some gaps in her files. I'm just trying to make sense of them."
"Gaps," my father repeated.
"Missing documents. Cross-references that don't lead anywhere." I met his eyes. "She was meticulous. If something's missing, it's because someone took it."
The table went quiet. Tanner stopped chewing. My father’s fork hovered halfway to his mouth before he slowly set it down. Even Sadie, who never backed down from anything, looked uneasy. I felt the shift immediately, like I’d stepped on a mine and was waiting for it to explode.
"Claire," my father said. "Some things are better left alone."
"Why?"
"Because digging into old family business doesn't help anyone. It just stirs up trouble."
"Or," I said, keeping my voice steady, "it clears up lies that never should have been told in the first place."
My father's expression didn't change, but something flickered behind his eyes. Not anger. Something closer to resignation. "You sound like Lois."
I didn't know if that was a compliment or a warning.
The silence stretched until my mother cleared her throat and reached for the serving bowl. "More potatoes, anyone?"
Tanner took the bowl without answering and scooped a second helping onto his plate. Sadie pushed green beans around with her fork, her mouth pressed into a thin line.
I'd crossed some invisible boundary, and everyone at the table knew it.
"So," Tanner said after a long moment, his tone shifting to something lighter. "Are you planning on telling us why you've been spending so much time with Torin Thompson?"
Heat crawled up my neck. "I haven't been—"
"Ruby saw you two at the Merc the other morning. She said you looked cozy." Tanner shook his head. “I always knew he had a thing for you.”
I rolled my eyes, even though my cheeks warmed. “She’s just trying to stir up some gossip.”
Sadie grinned. "And Mrs. Davis said she saw him at Aunt Lois's place. Twice."
"He fixed the window," I said. "The one I cut my hand on breaking in."
My mother's fork paused halfway to her mouth. "You what?"
"The front door was stuck. I used the window. Torin helped me get through and then came back to replace the glass." I kept my voice matter of fact, refusing to give them anything else to work with. "That's it."
Tanner's eyebrow lifted. "That's it."
"Yes." I focused on my plate, but the memory of Torin’s mouth on mine flashed through my head anyway. My heart pounded and I tried to will my pulse back to normal.
"Right." He cut into his roast, not bothering to hide his smirk. "Because Torin Thompson definitely makes house calls for every stuck window in town."
Sadie snorted into her water glass.
"Leave her alone," my mother said, but there was a glint of interest in her eyes that made my stomach twist. "Though I will say, he's grown into a good man. How he managed that with parents like his…"
"Mom." That was enough. They could try to bait me as much as they wanted, but Torin didn’t deserve to be dragged into the conversation.
I focused on my plate, willing the conversation to move anywhere else. Tanner had always been protective in that overbearing older-brother way, and Sadie thrived on needling people until they cracked. Even Mom had ganged up on me tonight.
But my father saved me, his voice cutting through the teasing. "How's the training business, Tanner?"
Tanner sat up straighter. "Good. I picked up two more clients last month. Both are barrel racers looking to step up their game."
"With a potential rodeo right in our backyard, I imagine you’ll pick up a few more before the season starts.” Dad reached for his water, his gaze zeroed in on my brother.
Tanner leaned back in his chair, settling into familiar territory. "I've been going back through some of the old training logs, actually. Trying to see what worked for Granddad's horses back in the day."
Finally. I forced myself to wait, to let the conversation breathe before steering it where I needed it to go.
My mother refilled water glasses. Sadie mentioned a rodeo horse she'd treated last week. The rhythm of family dinner settled back into place, the tension from earlier easing just enough.
"Speaking of old records," I said, keeping my tone casual. "Someone in town was talking about Hollister horses from over a hundred years ago. I didn't recognize the names they mentioned."
Tanner shrugged. "Most of those lines are gone now. Breeding's changed a lot since then."
"There was one name, though." I paused, pretending to think. "A stallion, I think. I can't remember exactly, but they said it was a big deal back then."
My father set down his fork, his gaze sharpening with interest. "What time frame?"
"Around 1912, maybe?"
He nodded slowly, his expression shifting into something distant. Remembering. "That'd be Bad Habit. He was a big bay stallion. Your great-grandfather brought him in from Wyoming. He changed the whole bloodline."
My pulse kicked up, but I kept my face neutral. "Bad Habit?"
"Best horse the family ever owned," my father said.
"Strong bloodline, solid temperament. That horse was limitless.
Every decent Hollister horse can probably be traced back to him in some way.
" He reached for his water glass, his tone warming with the kind of pride that only came from talking about legacy.
"Granddad used to say that stallion put the Hollister name on the map in this valley. "
The name matched.
Bad Habit. The same horse listed in Dawson's ledger screenshot. The same bloodline that had been crossed with Kincaid mares in 1912.
I forced myself to swallow, to nod like I was just curious and didn’t have an ulterior motive. "That's the one. I wonder why someone would bring that up now."
Tanner frowned. "Who was talking about it?"
"Just someone at the Merc," I said. "You know how Ruby gets when she starts reminiscing."
He snorted. "Ruby reminisces about everything."
My mother stood, gathering empty plates. "Well, it's nice to know the old stories are still circulating. Keeps the history alive."
I helped her clear the table, my mind already racing ahead. The horses, the land records, the missing file Lois had been researching… they all circled back to the same year. Something happened in 1912. I’d bet my waterfront condo in Seattle on it.
After dinner, I stepped out onto the side porch, needing air and a few minutes of quiet to think. The evening had settled into that soft twilight blue that made the ridge look closer than it was. Somewhere in the distance, cattle lowed, and the wind carried the faint smell of damp earth.
Bad Habit had been the foundation of the Hollister herd.
My father had said it himself. Every decent horse could be traced back to that stallion.
And Dawson's ledger showed Bad Habit listed alongside Kincaid mares in 1912.
Which meant the bloodlines weren't just connected.
They were deliberately crossed. Hollister and Kincaid stock, bred together, recorded together.
Not as enemies, but as partners. And if that were true, then the feud narrative everyone repeated like gospel was incomplete at best. A lie at worst.
I leaned against the porch railing, my fingers curling around the weathered wood.
The rodeo expansion had stalled because Dawson couldn't prove clean lineage for the stock he planned to use.
But if the Hollister and Kincaid families had been working together in 1912, sharing bloodlines and breeding records, then maybe the answer he needed wasn't buried in some impossible-to-find document.
Maybe it was right here. In the records my father still had. In the breeding logs Tanner had mentioned. In whatever Lois had been trying to piece together before she died.
The porch door creaked open behind me, and I glanced back to see Sadie stepping outside, her arms crossed against the cooling air.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yeah. Just needed a minute."
She moved next to me, her gaze following mine out toward the ridge. "You're really not going to tell us what you're digging into, are you?"
"Not yet."
"Fair enough." She was quiet for a moment, then added, "For what it's worth, I think Aunt Lois would be proud of you."
I looked at her, surprised.
Sadie shrugged. "She never liked leaving questions unanswered either."
That might have been the truest thing anyone had said all night.
I left not long after that, my mind racing as the pieces started to fall into place. As soon as I got to my car, I pulled out my phone and sent Torin a quick text telling him what I'd learned. His reply came almost instantly.
Torin: Can I come over?
My pulse kicked up as I typed back.
Me: Yes