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The view from Harrison Ranch is unmatched. The desert is lusher on the south side of Lanceleaf and not quite as flat. There’s texture to the scenery, and sunshine casts a warm glow over the ranch. There’s nothing like it.
Will lives in the main house, since Dad moved to a smaller cabin after Mom died. He left most of the furniture and decor, including Mom’s wind chimes.
They dance in the breeze this morning, filling the quiet with music. A rainbow of colors reflects off the stones. A haunting reminder of Mom.
It’s why I couldn’t move back here when I returned to Lanceleaf, opting for the small apartment above Ransack instead. I wonder if that’s why Liam lives in town as well.
It’s only Will, Asher, and Dad here, but I know Will keeps to himself. My chest tightens considering how lonely that must be. Especially when I rarely come visit him.
“Your crew is bigger this year.” I tilt my chin to the bustle around the barn.
He sighs. “I’m hoping to keep it that way, but I might have to cut down after spring.”
“Why would you have to do that? I thought between this place and Ironside Ridge you had more than enough work to go around?”
“The Jensons just voided their grazing lease for our west pasture.”
“They can’t do that. Our family has had that contract with them since before you and I were born.”
“It expires next month, and they’re not renewing it.”
“Why?”
Will frowns, glancing over at me.
“Zander,” I guess, and he nods. “But the Jensons don’t even like Zander. Not with them drilling so close to their property line.”
“Yeah, well, he’s absorbing their property. Or leasing it to drill, at least. They signed the paperwork last month. The whole eastern stretch of Lanceleaf is about to become an oil field.”
“The Jensons have been against that from the beginning. Why change their mind now?”
Will leans against the railing, looking out at the land. “People are seeing how good Zander’s got it, and it’s getting in their heads. Ranching is a lot of work, especially after the drought. People are getting tired. Frustrated. There’s a point when it’s easier to just take the money.”
When the oil companies first came to town, Lanceleaf had a united front. We planned to protect our land at all costs. No drilling. No oil fields stinking up our town.
Zander was the first to break.
I wasn’t living here when that happened, but I heard he tried to spin it by saying he was doing it for the town’s well-being. He swore he was selling his soul to the devil so the rest of us wouldn’t have to. Like it was all for the greater good.
Back then, I got the impression Will believed him. Zander was a shitty boyfriend, but no one could deny how his family helped the community.
Only, the richer Zander became, the less he cared and the more he wanted.
More land.
More money.
More respect.
How did I not see it when I came back last year? How did I let him manipulate me all over again?
“This town’s gonna turn into something we don’t recognize soon,” Will says, his coffee long abandoned on the railing.
“Is that why you’re helping Shane and his club?”
Will and Dean were friends, and they’ve always been loyal to each other. But helping with Ironside Ridge while Dean stays in Vegas stretches my brother thin. He’s a good friend, but I doubt that’s the only reason he’s offered his help at Ironside Ridge.
“Helping them is the right thing to do,” Will says, carrying his mug inside in what I assume is his attempt to end the conversation.
