"I sure am," I say. "And you know what else?" I pause just long enough for her to lean forward. "There's a little house right behind the library. Candy showed it to me. It's got trees allaround it and a porch big enough for two rocking chairs. It's going to be ours."
Her mouth drops open. "Ahouse?"
"Mm-hmm. A real one. With three bedrooms, so you'll have your own room and maybe even a little corner for your art stuff. And the kitchen's bigger, so we can bake cookies without bumping elbows."
Emma bounces in place, clutching my hand. "Can we paint my room? Like pink and purple? And maybe get a bookshelf?"
I laugh, heart swelling at the sight of her excitement. "I think we can manage that. Maybe even some fairy lights for your window."
She squeals, then throws her arms around my neck. "I love it already. When do we move?"
"Soon," I say, hugging her back tightly. "In just a couple of weeks. Candy and North are going to help us. We'll pack our things, and then we'll make it feel just like home."
She pulls back to look at me, her eyes bright and curious. "Will Asher and his horses be close too?"
The question tugs at something deep in my chest, but I smile. "Close enough that we can still visit, if we want to."
She nods, satisfied. "I can't wait. Can we make pancakes the first morning we live there?"
"We can make pancakes and hot chocolate," I say, brushing her hair back. "It'll be a celebration."
Emma grins. "It's gonna be the best house ever."
I kiss her forehead. "It is. Because you'll be in it."
Later that night, when she finally crawls under her blanket, she's still smiling. "I'm gonna dream about our new house," she murmurs sleepily.
I sit there for a long time after her eyes close, watching her chest rise and fall. The sound of her even breathing fills the little room.
The fear is still there—of money, of change, of what comes next—but it's quieter now, softened by something steadier. Hope.
I look around at the cracked walls, the scuffed floor, the life we've built in this small space. It's been safe, but safety isn't the same as living.
Standing, I turn off the light. The moonlight spills across the floor—a path leading forward.
Tomorrow I'll call Candy. I'll tell my landlord and start packing.
And for the first time in years, the future doesn't feel like something to survive. It feels like something we get to build.
Chapter 24 –
Asher
Before I even answer Cade's call, I know there is trouble. Stepping out of the barn to talk to him.
"What's up?" I ask, hoping I'm wrong.
"The North pasture at the McCafferty spread," Cade answers. "Two white pickups with magnetic logos that peel on and off, hard hats in the cab, a little rig that looks like a core sampler. No one called it in. No permits posted. They were off the fence line like they knew exactly where the property pins were. When I rolled by, they packed up fast. Way too fast."
My hand tightens around the phone until my knuckles sting. "Plates?"
"One had a temporary," he says. "The other had a dealer tag. Both mud-splattered in the exact same pattern that someoneslapped it on. It looked staged. My gut is saying things aren't right."
I pace a path in the dirt that I have already worn this week, from the shade to the sun and back again. The barn swallows my shadow and spits it out again, unable to decide whether it will keep me. "You get a picture?"
"Blurry," he says. "But you can see the outline of the mast on the rig. That is not a soil auger for roses. They are testing depth and composition. And they knew where to put it, and they had maps."
Wind pushes the hot air across my face, bringing the smell of minerals, dust, and old wood. I close my eyes and see Kassi at my sink last night with her hands wrapped around a glass of water and her mouth set in that line I’m starting to understand. She would tell me to be careful. She would tell me to call someone who knows the law, and not to take this on alone. Opening my eyes, I stare out at the south fence.