Chapter 19
Kassi
Itell myself to keep my head down and get through the day. That's all. Finish the reports, return the calls, smile politely at the men in suits who sign my paycheck.
I'm in the office on a Saturday to play catch-up on some of the data reports I need filed. But I keep getting distracted. I wish I could say it's because of Emma. Candy and Emma are having a home spa day, so I know she's having fun, but I still want to get home as soon as I can. But that's not it.
It's because I can't unhear Asher's voice.
Every time I close my eyes, I feel the echo of Asher's voice in my ear, low and certain. I hear him telling me I make him reckless. Then I hear myself confessing things I swore I would never admit.
And I'm not reckless. I'm not. I can't be. I have a daughter who depends on me, a life balanced like a tower of cards that could collapse with one wrong move.
And now here I am at my desk, shuffling papers, trying to focus on a spreadsheet that looks more like static than numbers. My pen keeps tapping against my desk until I force myself to stop.
I need coffee. Maybe the walk to the break room will shake me out of this fog.
The hallway is quiet, the kind of quiet that feels staged. I fill my mug at the machine, the hiss of the brew louder than usual, and that's when I hear them. Two voices, low and urgent, are coming from the conference room.
Even though I shouldn't listen, and I know it, the words hook me in.
"I don't care what it takes," one of them says, his voice harsh. "That land has reserves under it. We're wasting time with offers. We need access."
Another man lowers his voice, but I hear enough. "... drilling rights... nobody has to know until it's done..."
The third man speaks, nervous. "If anyone finds out—"
"They won't." A laugh follows, sharp and careless. "It's Silver Cattle. No one out there has the money or the lawyers to drag this through the courts."
My blood runs cold.
Drilling. They're talking about drilling on Silver Cattle Ranch.
My grip tightens on the mug.
I freeze, my heart pounding in my ears.
Another voice joins in, one I recognize—my boss, smooth and confident. "Keep it quiet. If the town finds out we're testing for oil, we'll lose the leverage. For now, it's just development. That's what we say. Stick to the script."
My stomach drops.
Oil. They're not just talking about shops and condos and a pretty little lakeside boardwalk. They're talking about drills and rigs and tearing up the ground beneath Asher's boots.
The mug feels slippery in my hand. While I want to walk away, pretend I didn't hear it, my legs won't move.
Then the door creaks.
I jerk back, nearly spilling coffee down my blouse, and duck toward the supply closet across the hall. The smell of toner and dust hits my nose as I shut myself inside, pressing the door almost closed. My chest heaves as footsteps echo in the hall.
"Thought I heard something," one of them mutters.
"Probably nothing. Let's get back to work."
I hold my breath until the voices fade. My hands shake so badly I have to set the mug on a shelf before I drop it.
I'm in over my head.
When I finally slip back to my desk, my pulse is still racing. I shuffle papers, type a nonsense sentence to look busy, but inside I'm unraveling. They're going after Asher's land. Not just to build, but to drill. To ruin.
And I've been the fool standing on the wrong side.
Quickly, I gather my stuff, leaving my work unfinished. My mind races as I head out to my car. I’m not worried about my job; my only thought is if Asher finds out I've been anywhere near this... God, he'll never look at me the same way again.
By the time I get home, my head aches from holding it all in.
Candy is sprawled on the couch with Emma curled beside her, both of them watching some baking show where contestants build impossible towers of cake.
My daughter has frosting smeared on her chin from the cupcake Candy let her decorate earlier.
"Hey, Mama," Emma calls without looking away from the screen. "Mine would've won."
Candy grins. "She's not wrong."
I set my purse down and sink into the armchair, suddenly so tired I could fall asleep sitting up.
"You okay?" Candy asks, watching me too closely.
I hesitate. She's the only one who knows. She's the one I've trusted with everything—every late-night text, every sneaked meeting, every kiss that left me shaking.
And now this.
"Emma, why don't you go wash up and take a shower?" I suggest.
"Can I use the new shampoo? The one with the unicorn?" she asks, jumping off the couch.
"Yes. Make sure you rinse it all out of your hair," I tell her, knowing I'll have to go check anyway.
She runs off to her room to pick her PJs, and I turn back to look at Candy once Emma is out of earshot.
I lower my voice. "I wasn't supposed to be in the office today, so no one knew I was there, and I overheard a conversation. It's worse than I thought. They're not just building. They're talking about oil. On Asher's land."
Candy's eyes widen. "Oil? Are you sure?"
"I heard them." My voice shakes. "They're hiding it. Keeping the town in the dark."
She presses a hand to her mouth, then lowers it. "Kassi, that's huge. That's not just shady business. That's dangerous."
I nod. "They said they'd cover it up. Pretend it's soil testing." My voice cracks on the last words. "If they do this, it won't just ruin the ranch. It could poison the entire lake."
Candy swears under her breath, then reaches for my hand. "You have to tell Asher."
"I can't." The words rip out of me, sharp and pained. "Not yet. He already thinks I'm a spy. If I admit I overheard something in their office, he'll... he'll think..."
Candy squeezes my hand hard enough to stop the spiral. "Kassi, listen to me. That man cares about you. He's not gonna let you drown in this alone. You need him, and he needs you. Even if you can't see it yet."
"I'm terrified," I admit. "What if they find out I know? What if they come after me?"
Candy steps closer, grips my shoulders. "You're not alone. You've got me. And you've got Asher, whether you're ready to admit it or not. Asher looks at you like you're already his."
My chest aches. I don't know what to say.
Her words crack something inside me. I blink back tears.
She pulls me into a quick hug, then leans back. "Listen, I'll take Emma for the weekend. You go to Finn's rodeo with Asher and his family. You need a night that isn't worry and fear. Besides, Emma loves sleepovers at my place. She'll be fine."
"Candy—"
"No arguments." She smiles, but her voice is steady. "Just in case, I want her with me. And you need to be with him."
The certainty in her tone steadies me, just a little.
Later, after Emma's tucked in bed, and the apartment is quiet, my phone buzzes.
Bear: Got the place to myself tomorrow. Bring Emma out. Let her play with the horses.
My heart kicks hard. I type, then delete, then type again.
Me: Are you sure?
Bear: Positive. She will have a blast here. Trust me.
I stare at the screen, my chest full of conflicting things—fear, hope, longing. Finally, I reply.
Me: Okay.
The next afternoon, Emma bounces with excitement the whole drive. "Do you think I can pet one, Mama? Do you think they'll let me?"
"We'll see," I say, though I already know Asher won't say no.
When we pull up, he's waiting by the fence, leaning against a post, hat shading his eyes. Emma squeals and bolts out of the car before I can stop her.
"Careful!" I call, hurrying after her.
But Asher's already crouched to meet her, his smile softer than I've ever seen it. "Well, hey there. You must be Emma."
She nods, grinning widely. "Mama says you have horses."
"That's true." He glances at me, and a warmth passes between us before he looks back at her. "Want to meet one?"
"Yes, please!"
He leads us into the pasture, where an almost all-black horse grazes near the fence line. The big horse lifts her head, ears pricked, and ambles over as if she already knows Emma's meant for her.
"This is Midnight. She's been with me for a few years now, but she loves kids," Asher says.
Emma gasps when Midnight lowers her head to sniff her hair. "Mama! She likes me!"
I laugh, a sound shaky with relief. "Looks like it."
Asher rests a steadying hand on Midnight's neck before looking at me. "Go on, Sunshine. You can pet her."
"Mama, why does he call you Sunshine?" Emma asks, missing nothing.
I look up at Asher with wide eyes, not sure what to say, but Asher doesn't miss a beat.
"Because your mom's smile reminds me of sunshine. It brightens up her whole face," he says, and Emma smiles, nods her head, and accepts it without question while turning her attention back to Midnight.
Emma stretches out her hand, tiny fingers brushing Midnight's velvety nose. Her giggle rings out pure and bright. "She's soft."
Watching her, something eases in me that hasn't in weeks. The fear, the guilt, the pressure—it all quiets for a moment, replaced by the simple joy of seeing my daughter light up.
Emma strokes Midnight's nose again and then pats the horse like she is thanking her for being gentle.
Asher shows her how to hold her palm flat and where to scratch along the jaw.
Emma copies him with absolute concentration, tongue peeking out, small brows pinched, acting as if this is a test she wants to ace.
She helps Asher walk Midnight to the barn, and after a tour of the barn, she returns to Midnight’s stall.
"Can I brush her?" Emma asks.
"You can," Asher says. "We’ll go slowly."
He hands her the soft brush and pulls up a wooden step stool, helping her up on it.
His big hand wraps around her smaller one, guiding each stroke.
Midnight lowers her head and sighs, apparently approving.
The sound makes Emma giggle. Then it’s her turn to try on her own.
She is careful and proud of herself. Watching her, I feel my throat go tight.