I don't hang up right away. Instead, I listen until her breathing evens out, until I know she's asleep. Only then do I hang up the phone, staring at the ceiling in the dark.
While I should feel guilty or worried, I feel restless, alive, branded by the sound of her voice.
For the first time in years, I want something that can't be measured by fences or herd counts. I want her.
And I know I won't be able to stop.
Chapter 19
Kassi
Itell myself to keep my head down and get through the day. That's all. Finish the reports, return the calls, smile politely at the men in suits who sign my paycheck.
I'm in the office on a Saturday to play catch-up on some of the data reports I need filed. But I keep getting distracted. I wish I could say it's because of Emma. Candy and Emma are having a home spa day, so I know she's having fun, but I still want to get home as soon as I can. But that's not it.
It's because I can't unhear Asher's voice.
Every time I close my eyes, I feel the echo of Asher's voice in my ear, low and certain. I hear him telling me I make him reckless. Then I hear myself confessing things I swore I would never admit.
And I'm not reckless. I'm not. I can't be. I have a daughter who depends on me, a life balanced like a tower of cards that could collapse with one wrong move.
And now here I am at my desk, shuffling papers, trying to focus on a spreadsheet that looks more like static than numbers. My pen keeps tapping against my desk until I force myself to stop.
I need coffee. Maybe the walk to the break room will shake me out of this fog.
The hallway is quiet, the kind of quiet that feels staged. I fill my mug at the machine, the hiss of the brew louder than usual, and that's when I hear them. Two voices, low and urgent, are coming from the conference room.
Even though I shouldn't listen, and I know it, the words hook me in.
"I don't care what it takes," one of them says, his voice harsh. "That land has reserves under it. We're wasting time with offers. We need access."
Another man lowers his voice, but I hear enough. "... drilling rights... nobody has to know until it's done..."
The third man speaks, nervous. "If anyone finds out—"
"They won't." A laugh follows, sharp and careless. "It's Silver Cattle. No one out there has the money or the lawyers to drag this through the courts."
My blood runs cold.
Drilling. They're talking about drilling on Silver Cattle Ranch.
My grip tightens on the mug.
I freeze, my heart pounding in my ears.
Another voice joins in, one I recognize—my boss, smooth and confident. "Keep it quiet. If the town finds out we're testing for oil, we'll lose the leverage. For now, it's just development. That's what we say. Stick to the script."
My stomach drops.
Oil. They're not just talking about shops and condos and a pretty little lakeside boardwalk. They're talking about drills and rigs and tearing up the ground beneath Asher's boots.
The mug feels slippery in my hand. While I want to walk away, pretend I didn't hear it, my legs won't move.
Then the door creaks.
I jerk back, nearly spilling coffee down my blouse, and duck toward the supply closet across the hall. The smell of toner and dust hits my nose as I shut myself inside, pressing the door almost closed. My chest heaves as footsteps echo in the hall.
"Thought I heard something," one of them mutters.