3. Stetson
THREE
Stetson
Somehow, we managed to talk Bryn into staying until dinner.
It didn’t take much convincing, I guess. Turned out she loved kids—so she was more than happy to hang out with Bea and Ethan, the only two who could talk, and to stop the other kids from trying to eat her frog. They named the frog Stetson, which was very flattering.
But she needed rest.
And we weren’t sure yet if we were going to need her.
My asshole sperm donor, Arlo Holt, was making another go at our family’s property, this time through the water rights.
The creek was named for our family—most of it ran through our land—but upstream, it originated in an aquifer that fed half the country.
If Arlo had found a way to peel the water off from the land, he didn’t need to worry about taking our land.
Just had to make it too dry to keep.
Gage showed up an hour after Millie’s call, kicked off his boots by the door, Wyatt right behind him.
My Aunt Peg and Uncle Adam came over from town; Forrest joined us too, partially to pick up Willa and Sophie.
Once dinner rolled around, we sat around the kitchen table and Bryn helped lay it all out—the filing, the LLC, what it meant… and how she could help. With her frogs.
She was an odd one, that was for sure.
“Explain the frog thing,” Gage said once we’d finished our dinner. “Slow, for those of us who don’t have a PhD.”
Bryn nodded. “Of course—the main thing is that this species doesn’t exist anywhere else. Not officially. Not yet. I need more breeding data to file for recognition: egg counts, call recordings, water temperature logs…you name it.”
“I don’t know how this helps us,” I muttered.
“Well, if I’m able to establish that the Holt Creek Chirping Frog is an endangered species, I can block the water transfer,” she said. “A confirmed new species tied to one specific site gives you leverage.”
“Where I’m lost is on why you care so much about our land,” I said, shaking my head. “Why do you—”
“Oh, I don’t care about your land.”
The whole table went quiet.
“I care about the frogs.”
Adam snorted, shaking his head. “These women you boys bring home…”
“What are you talking about?” Forrest asked quietly, glancing at his wife. “Willa is perfect.”
“It was a compliment.”
“Stop,” I said, raising a hand to quiet them, feeling my cheeks flush. It wasn’t like that. Not at all. “I guess—another question. How did you even find out about this?”
“Oh, there’s a population two counties over,” Bryn said.
“A few got out downstream and have been getting it on with the frogs closer to the city. I found this weird genetic signature and ended up tracking it closer and closer to Briar Hill…then here. Now I’m fairly certain there’s a unique species that has its origin in the aquifer. ”
“And you don’t mind us treading on their territory?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“As long as you don’t threaten them with a shotgun.”
Peggy gave me a look. “Stetson Holt.”
“To be fair, I was trespassing,” Bryn said, laughing. “And he made up for it by inviting me to dinner.”
“His mama taught him good manners,” Peggy said. “He should’ve known better.”
“Regardless,” Bryn said. “This is why I really can’t stay after tonight—why I should be out there right now. Because I only have a limited time to establish that this species even exists and file the proper paperwork before it’s too late.”
“Damn it…” Gage muttered, shaking his head. “I’ll call the attorney. With your stitches—”
“You can’t stop me,” she said. “I’m definitely going back out there. Planning on hiking the whole creek, all the way up to the aquifer. I’m going to find my frogs.”
“In that case, I’m going with you,” I cut in.
She actually had the audacity to roll her eyes at me. “I really don’t need a knight in shining armor, Stetson—”
“Not offering to be one.” I crossed my arms. “But if you’d been caught in that mud and I hadn’t stumbled by, you could’ve drowned in a foot of water today.”
“Well, that would’ve been really embarrassing.”
“Exactly.”
We stared at each other.
She was messing with me.
I let out a loud grumble, Haven laughing under her breath beside me.
"You're both ridiculous," Haven said.
"I resent that," Bryn said. "I've survived worse than one man staring at me."
"Never said you hadn't."
"You implied it."
Peggy set the last plate in the sink and turned around, drying her hands on a towel. "You two can argue in the truck tomorrow. Right now everyone needs sleep."
"I have a tent," Bryn said again.
"You have a guest room," Peggy said. "Third door on the left. Sheets are clean."
Bryn looked at me like I might back her up. I didn't.
"Dawn," I said. "I'll knock."
"You don't have to knock. I'll be awake."
"I'll knock anyway."
She picked up the frog container, checked the latch, and headed for the hallway. Buck lifted his head off the floor and watched her go, then looked at me like he expected an explanation.
"Don't," I told him.
Gage was already on the phone with the attorney by the time I got my boots back on. Wyatt caught my arm on the way out.
"You good?" he asked.
"Fine."
"You hate people."
"I don't hate people."
"You tolerate people. Barely." He glanced toward the hallway where Bryn had disappeared. "You offered to hike a creek with a stranger."
I didn’t bother responding.
“Good night, Wyatt,” I said.
Then me and Buck stomped back to the truck.
Got in and drove to our little place over by the woods.
And I didn’t think any harder about why I’d offered to help the frog lady.