Page 23 of The One Who Saw Her: Boone

Vivi covered the phone. "My boyfriend who’s in Singapore."

Jo grinned. "That one. Keep him on the line while I help you figure out how to keep your sanity in a barn full of horses." She clapped a hand on Vivi's shoulder like it was a final verdict. "Tell him you're staying here. Boots, jeans, flannel, and that stubborn little heart of yours.”

Vivi laughed despite herself. Jo might be rough around the edges but this was exactly the kind of support she hadn't known she needed.

“No to what?" Lewis asked. "Being mad or meeting the inspector?"

"No to both."

"What?"

"Today I say no," Vivi said, knowing Glow would be proud of her. "Tomorrow might be a yes. But today is a hard no."

CHAPTER 10

Boone spotted his neighbor, Virgil Maddox, leaning against his truck outside Granny’s Grocer’s and Grain, arms crossed like he owned the world. Which, in a way, he did—or at least the water that kept Boone’s world running.

He didn't square his shoulders or adjust his hat. Hell, he didn't do anything that would tip his hand before he was ready. Boone walked over at the same unhurried pace he always walked.

"Virgil,” Boone said, his voice flat. “We need to talk.”

The smug prick smirked. "Thought you'd say that."

"I think there was a mistake with next year's water cost."

"No mistake. Water costs will double."

Double? The letter had said there would be an increase. But double?

Boone's stomach dropped like a stone but he didn't let it show. He'd learned a long time ago that men like Virgil fed on reaction.

"That would wipe us out," he said, his tone measured. "Every acre, every calf. It's all riding on that water and you know that."

"Inflation is a real thing."

The casualness of the man’s shrug had Boone clinching his fists at his sides, trying to force calm down through his chest like a fist through wet concrete.

Think. There had to be a way to fight this—a way to honor the arrangement between their families without letting Virgil bleed them dry. His granddad hadn't built this ranch to see it die at the hands of a greedy piece of shit who hadn't worked a single honest day in his life.

"Our families have had the same deal for fifty years." His voice hadn't risen. That was intentional because low was more dangerous than loud in Boone’s world.

"It was a handshake deal," Virgil said with a disbelieving chuckle. "And business has been good for you all these years."

"Business has been good because I honor commitments." Unlike Virgil, who'd ignored his promise to love and protect his wife—something Boone had made very clear to him one night at the bar when Virgil got a little too mouthy with his woman. "Because I sweat every day of my life making this ranch work. Not because of some loophole in your inheritance. It was a verbal contract, but a contract all the same. My granddad and your great-uncle honored it. I've honored it." He gave a pointed pause. "You should honor it."

Virgil's grin widened. "No can do. There's nothing stopping me from doubling it starting next month, but I'm being the nice guy here and giving you until the new year."

"Nice guy?" Boone repeated, the words so flat they barely qualified as language. "That'll put me out of business. This isn't numbers on a ledger. This is my family's legacy."

"Business isn't charity. But I'll tell you what, you give me half your calves come spring and maybe I'll consider a smaller hike."

Half his calves? They were the heart of the ranch. He couldn't hand them over like chips on a poker table.

Boone took one step closer. Not aggressive, just close enough that Virgil had to make a choice about whether to hold his ground or step back.

The coward stepped back. "Take it or leave it, Callahan. Your choice."

Something cold settled over Boone then. Not rage—rage was loud and stupid and gave men like Virgil exactly what they wanted. This was something older. The same thing that had kept his granddad on this land through drought and debt and everything in between.