Page 99 of The Fire Line

By the following afternoon, Priya had covered half the production-office wall with index cards.

Shaw Ranch had become the film’s center of gravity: its water systems, guest operation, succession questions, and the long practical afterlife of Nell’s original project. Even after they stripped away the discarded comparisons, the cut kept returning here—to Della describing the first guest cabins, Evan explaining operating costs, Walt discussing succession, Harris repairing the spring box while explaining why the old grazing calendar no longer worked.

And to Nell, present mostly through what she had left behind.

“The film needs more of her original project material,” Priya said. “Not just the proposal. I want to see what she was thinking before it became polished.”

“Assuming the family’s comfortable with that.”

“Obviously.”

Eli glanced up from the lens he was cleaning. “Does Della have the files?”

“Probably,” Jay replied.

“Harris might,” Priya said.

Jay kept his face neutral.

The previous afternoon in the tack room remained much too available to memory: Harris’s body pressed against his, the sharp catch in his breathing when Jay touched him, and the exact expression on his face when he managed the word slow. When Evan had nearly walked in on them, Harris had looked more rattled by his own recklessness than by the interruption.

Professional boundaries remained a thriving institution.

“I’ll ask Della,” Jay said.

Priya looked at him for half a second longer than necessary, then nodded.

* * *

Jay waited until Della had rolled the pastry into a clean circle before asking about Nell’s original project files.

The lodge kitchen was in the middle of preparing dinner. Butter and onions warmed the air, a stockpot simmered behind Della, and two kitchen staff moved around them with the efficient indifference of people accustomed to production questions occurring in the middle of actual work.

“We have the proposal and the emails she sent us,” Jay said. “But the water project is becoming one of the clearest ways into the ranch’s story. I’d like to understand what she was thinking before she turned it into something polished.”

Della pressed the rolling pin across the dough. “Nell kept everything. She didn’t believe computers had earned the right to be trusted.”

“A visionary.”

Her mouth moved faintly. “There are boxes in the attic. Evan brought most of them down after she died, but I kept the project files separate.”

“We don’t need anything private. We can review it with you, and nothing gets copied or filmed without approval.”

“You won’t know what’s private until you see it.”

Jay accepted the correction. “Then you tell us.”

Della considered him for a moment before returning to the pastry. “Harris should be there.”

He had expected that answer. His body registered it anyway.

“Will he agree?”

Della looked up as though the question amused her. “He’ll complain.”

Yeah. That tracked.

* * *