Page 81 of The One Who Saw Her: Boone

"What's that?" Boone asked, reaching for it.

Owen got there first. He opened it, flipped through the contents, and something shifted in his expression. "Payment stubs for the water rights."

"Fifty years' worth," Colter said, with the satisfaction of a man who had been waiting for the right moment. “Most of them are handwritten.”

"Where the hell did you get those?" Boon asked.

"Vivi found them in the attic of the bunkhouse this morning. She tried to find you, but you were already gone."

"Vivi," he repeated, the name landing like a weight in his chest.

"Yeah," Eli said, with a smirk he reserved for moments he knew Boone couldn't argue with. "Turns out your pretty little headache saved your ass. Again."

He didn't try to fight the grin that pulled at his mouth because there was no point. Of all people, it was the whirlwind, chaos-attractor, woman who'd turned his life sideways without apparently breaking a sweat, who had gone up to that attic and dug through decades of boxes. Only Vivi could turn a disaster into a lifeline, her mess somehow steering them to the one thing that could keep everything from falling apart.

God help him, he was starting to realize her chaos wasn’t just trouble—it was magic.

And then, because his brain had a cruel sense of timing, Boone’s mind wandered back to her—the feel of her in his arms, the shuddering heat of her body pressed against his, and the memory of her collapsing into him, her hands clutching his as she gasped and came with a force that left him breathless. Her chaos wasn’t just magic on paper; it had been incendiary in every way, and he’d been foolish enough to think he could ever forget it. He swallowed hard, trying to tamp down a laugh and a groan at the same time.

"And you drove them all the way down here?" he asked.

His brothers exchanged a look, but it was Colter who spoke. "If you want to save the ranch, we want to save the ranch. We're a team. Always have been."

Boone just nodded, because the tightness in his throat didn't leave a lot of room for words. Having them here—having them show up without being asked, without making it a thing—loosened something in his chest he hadn't realized he'd been holding so tight.

He wasn't alone in this. He'd been so hell-bent on carrying it alone that he'd almost missed that.

Owen looked up at the brothers, then back at the stubs. "Every single one of these is for the same amount. Even the ones Boone brought me."

Boone sat straighter. "Isn't that proof enough?"

"It helps," Owen said, tapping the stack. "It shows intent and consistency. Two things that matter. I can try to build a case around it. Might not be airtight, but it's a start."

Not a victory. But not nothing.

"I'll dig in. No promises, but we'll see if the law can back up what your granddad and Virgil's great-uncle shook on all those years ago."

Boone leaned back against the wall, watching Owen sort through the papers, feeling the weight of years lift just enough to let a thin thread of hope in.

"You know, Boone, for a guy carrying a stack of dusty papers like they're the Declaration of Independence, you're surprisingly calm."

"Calm's relative. I'm used to carrying heavy things."

"Really?" Owen leaned forward. "Because from where I'm sitting, you look like a man about to snap someone in half."

Eli snorted from behind Boone. "That's because he needs to get laid. Guy's practically a monk at this point."

Boone said nothing. Which, given what had happened down by the creek, was the most diplomatic response available to him. He wasn't a kiss-and-tell man—but if he were, the story would've gotten around town and stayed there.

"The sooner we figure this out, the sooner we make sure Virgil can't pull any fast ones," Boone said, getting them back on track.

Owen tapped the stubs. "Solid history of consistent payment is better than most people walk in here with." He paused, and the grin went stone-cold serious. "But I'm going to be blunt. My recommendation is to exhaust every option before this touches a courtroom."

"The man's a weasel," Boone said.

"And you're a hothead. Try calm and rational first. Find something that makes things easier on him, maybe he becomes more willing to deal. Because if this goes to court? It will drain you. Emotionally, physically, financially. You're worried about water bills now? A case like this could last for years. My colleagues don't offer the friends-and-family discount and this can and will take everything."

"So we're screwed?" Colter asked.