Chapter 42
Forty-Two
Wyatt
Outside, the sun was bright and almost warm. A breeze moved down Main Street carrying the smell of bakery bread and diesel and the faint tang of fall on the edges. The world looked ordinary.
Holt’s truck was parked at the curb. He climbed into the driver’s side. I got in on the passenger side, because for once I didn’t trust my hands to stay calm behind a wheel.
As we pulled away, my phone buzzed again in my pocket.
Another call.
Unknown number, but local.
I answered because I couldn’t afford not to. “Hargrove.”
“Mr. Hargrove,” Marlene said again, still too bright.
“I wanted to confirm your availability for today. We have all the documents ready. I also need to advise you that if this isn’t done soon, there’s interest from another party in all of Mr. Callahan’s property.
So if you’re proceeding, the sooner the better. ”
My jaw clenched. “I’m proceeding.”
“Excellent,” she said. “We’ll see you shortly.” Her voice was too chipper, too excited, and I wanted to scream at her that this was wrong. I ended the call and stared out the windshield.
“Let’s go,” I said as I dialled another number.
“Hey Wyatt, what’s up?” Brooke’s chipper voice asked.
“Do you happen to be at the arena still?” I’d seen her there checking the horses that boarded there.
“Yeah, need me to grab Maddy for you?”
“That would be great, I’ve got a meeting I can’t push back.” She was Tessa’s boss, and I didn’t really want to get into the details, but I would if she questioned me.
“No problem, I was heading to your place after I’m done here, so she can hop in.” She was silent for a moment, and I heard some rustling in the background. “Wyatt, have you talked to Tessa? I’m worried about her.”
“I haven’t, but after this meeting I intend to.”
“Good. See you later.”
“Thanks, Brooke,” I said just before I hung up the phone.
At the credit union, Holt parked in the lot and killed the engine. I opened the door and stepped out, the air hitting my face like a slap. I rolled my shoulders once, grounding myself.
Holt got out, too. “Are you sure this is the right thing?”
I looked at him. “Yeah no, I don’t think it is at all, but she’s not going down without me fighting.”
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, and I understood, suddenly, why Ray hated this place. It sucked the warmth out of a man. It made you feel like a file number.
Marlene met us near the front, heels clicking on tile. She was all pressed blazer and professional smile, clipboard in her hands like she could hold the world steady with paper.
“Mr. Hargrove,” she said. Her smile tightened when she saw Holt, like she didn’t like extra witnesses. Good. Let her be uncomfortable. Let her remember this wasn’t just ink. It was land. More importantly, it was people.
She led us into a small office with framed photographs of fields and a poster about “financial wellness” that made my stomach turn. She set a folder on the desk, thick with documents.
“I’ll walk you through the terms,” she said.
“I already know the terms,” I replied. “I’m changing them.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Excuse me.”
I leaned forward, palms on the desk, and kept my voice calm even though something vicious beat under my ribs.
“The debt gets paid,” I said. “Every outstanding piece of it. Taxes. Operating credit. Any liens attached to the land. All of it.”
“Yes,” she said cautiously. “That’s what this purchase agreement accomplishes.”
“No,” I corrected. “This purchase agreement transfers title.”
She blinked, then smiled like I was being difficult. “That’s how purchases work.”
“Not this one,” I said.
Marlene’s smile faltered. “Mr. Hargrove.”
“I’m not taking her land,” I said, each word slow and clear. “I’m taking her debt.”
Silence stretched, thick and tense.
Holt stood behind me, arms crossed, a quiet wall.
Marlene inhaled, then tried again, voice still polite but firmer. “If your intent is to provide financial assistance to Ms. Callahan, there are other mechanisms. Loans. Private arrangements. Gifted funds.”
“I’m not gifting anything,” I said. “And I’m not loaning her money she can’t repay. I’m making this clean.”
Marlene’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Clean for whom?”
“For her,” I said.
Her lips pressed together. “I’m not sure we can facilitate what you’re describing.”
“You can,” I replied. “You just don’t want to.”
Her cheeks coloured faintly. “This is a financial institution, Mr. Hargrove, not a charity.” Marlene’s voice softened, which was almost worse. “May I ask why?”
I held her gaze, steady and cold. “She signed those papers two days ago, because she thinks she’s out of options, because that’s the bull shit you’ve been feeding her since she got here. She’s not going to lose everything, not if I can help it.”
Marlene exhaled slowly. “Ms. Callahan accepted the offer.”
“She accepted it under pressure,” I said. “And she accepted it without understanding that there were other options...”
Marlene’s eyes flicked down to the folder, then back to me. “Even if we can structure something, she would need to agree to amended terms.”
“She doesn’t need to agree to anything, that’s between Tessa and me.”
“And if she doesn’t like the terms you’re describing?” The woman leaned back in her chair, like she was preparing for some kind of gotcha moment.
“Then you proceed with the original purchase,” I replied, voice hardening. “But you’re not doing that without giving me twenty-four hours to speak to her.”
Marlene’s mouth tightened. “That isn’t reasonable.”
“It’s the only reasonable thing,” I said. “If you’ve really got another party sniffing around, you already showed your hand. I’m in the driver’s seat here because I have a signed letter of offer, that land it mine regardless of who’s name is on the title.”
Holt let out a low breath behind me, almost a sound of approval. Marlene looked at Holt like he might rescue her from this. He didn’t.
As we left the office, the credit union’s lobby felt too bright, too cold, too full of people who had no idea what it cost to keep land in a family. I wanted to burn the fluorescent lights out with my stare.
Outside, the sun hit my face, and for half a second, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Holt opened his truck door and paused. “You’re going to go after her.”
“Yep,” I said.
We climbed in.
As Holt started the engine, my phone buzzed again. This time it was Brooke.
I answered. “How’s Maddy?”
Brooke’s voice was careful. “She’s asking questions, and I’m running out of lies.”
I swallowed. “I’m on my way.”
“Wyatt,” Brooke said, and there was steel under the softness, “is Tessa okay?”
I stared out at the road. “I don’t know.”
Brooke breathed out. “Then you need to be honest with your kid.”
“I will,” I promised.
I hung up and leaned my head back against the seat, eyes on the ceiling for a second, letting the weight settle.
Holt drove toward the barn.
My mind kept circling one brutal, simple truth.
Tessa hadn’t just left the ranch.
She’d left me and Maddy. And I hadn’t realized until now how much I’d started thinking about her in my day-to-day life.
When we pulled up the drive, Maddy spotted the truck immediately. She was still in her riding clothes, hair pulled back, cheeks flushed from effort. She looked older than she had a month ago. Like life had been teaching her lessons she didn’t ask for.
She walked toward me fast, not running, but close. Brooke followed behind at a slower pace, eyes sharp and worried.
I stepped out of the truck.
Maddy didn’t bother with hello. “Where is she?”
My throat tightened. I crouched slightly, bringing myself closer to her height even though she was nearly there already.
“I don’t know,” I said carefully. “But I’m finding out.”
Her eyes filled, fast and furious. “Did she leave?”
I swallowed. “It looks like it.”
Maddy’s mouth trembled. She pressed her lips together like she was trying not to let the sound out. “Why?”
“I think she’s scared,” I said, because it was the cleanest truth I had. “And tired. And she thinks leaving is the only way to stop the pressure.”
Maddy shook her head hard. “That’s stupid.”
“It might be,” I said gently. “But when people are overwhelmed, they do things that feel like the only way to breathe.”
Her eyes flashed. “Did she say goodbye to you?”
The question hit deep. I forced myself to keep my voice steady. “No.”
Maddy’s face crumpled for a split second, then she straightened, anger sliding into place like amour. “So what are you going to do?”
I stood, slow. “I’m going to make sure the ranch doesn’t get taken from her. And then I’m going to go get her.”
Maddy’s gaze locked on mine. “And you’re going to bring her back.”
I hesitated, because I couldn’t promise what wasn’t mine to promise.
Maddy saw it. Her voice went sharp. “Don’t do that thing you do when you don’t want to tell me the truth.”
I exhaled. “I can’t force her, sweetheart.”
“I know,” she said, voice breaking. “But you can try.”
I nodded once. “I will.”
Brooke stepped forward, touching Maddy’s shoulder. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s find some feed for your mare.”
Maddy didn’t move right away. She stared at me, searching my face like she was looking for cracks.
“You’re mad,” she said.
“Yes,” I admitted. I forced my jaw to unclench. “I’m not mad at her for being scared. I’m mad at the situation. I’m mad at the bank, mad at Ray for leaving her buried under paperwork. And I’m mad at myself for giving her space and letting her disappear.”
Maddy swallowed, eyes shiny. “Okay.”
I reached out and squeezed her shoulder once, quick and steady. “After you feed your mare, get your stuff packed up. I’ll take you to your mom’s instead of meeting her somewhere.”
She nodded, but her face stayed tight. “You’re going to see her tonight?”
A ghost of a smile tried to pull at my mouth. It didn’t make it. “Yeah, I am.”
She stepped forward suddenly and hugged me, hard, arms tight around my waist. She didn’t do that much anymore. Not since she’d hit the age where affection turned embarrassing. The fact that she did it now made my throat burn.
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and held her for a beat. “I’ve got you,” I murmured, and I meant it.
Brooke led her away, glanced over her shoulder, and gave me half a smile.
Holt was watching me like he had something to say and didn’t know where to put it.
“What,” I asked.
He shook his head once. “Nothing. Just looks like you’re about to burn the world down.”
“I might,” I grumbled as I headed toward the house.
Holt grunted. “Fair.”