“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.
