Page 119 of The Mountain Echoes
Earl flags us down before I’ve even cut the engine. His face is tight, jaw working like he’s chewing gravel.
“We’re fucked,” he announces flatly.
Aria’s already out of the truck.
I follow as Earl leads us toward the old John Deere 5075E, parked crooked near the diesel tank.
Nadine is standing by it, hands on her hips. She nods her greeting.
Earl climbs up, unscrews the fuel cap, and tips a jug toward me.
I sniff and nearly gag.
“Hell,” I mutter. “That’s sugar.”
“Jesus.” Aria’s face drains of color.
“Wouldn’t even turn over this morning,” Earl says grimly. “Whoever did this, they knew their shit. Tank was locked. Had to use a crowbar and a siphon. Probably did it after we shut down last night.”
I glance at Aria, who’s steadying herself like someone who’s bracing for a punch. “How bad?”
Earl doesn’t sugarcoat it. “Sugar’s probably already in the fuel pump and the injectors. We’re talkin’ full flush, replacement parts, maybe a new pump. That machine ain’t movin’ for at least two days.”
Aria closes her eyes for a moment. “We need that tractor.”
“Yeah,” Nadine agrees. “We’ve got orchard rows that need mowing before the next rain. And we gotta start turning the alfalfa field today or tomorrow, or it won’t dry right.”
Aria nods tightly. “Okay. We prioritize the herd—the auction’s in two days. The orchard can wait. The alfalfa—” she presses her fingers to her temple—“Shit.”
“Hey,” I say gently, stepping in close. “Go take your migraine meds.Now.”
Her eyes flick to mine, surprise flashing behind the pain. I reach up, brushing a curl off her cheek. “Go on. We’ve got it.”
She hesitates but then nods and turns back toward the house. “Earl, Tomas, Wes—start with the herd prep. Nadine, I’m sorry about the?—”
“Don’t you dare apologize to me.” Nadine lays a hand on Aria’s shoulder. “You’ve done damn near the impossible already. We’ll make it work.”
Once Aria disappears into the house, I turn to Earl. “You, Tomas, and Wes take the herd. I’m bringing down our 5070 and a rotary rake. Zane and two of our hands will be here by”—I pause to look at my watch and calculatehow much time Zane will need to get everything together—“ten. We’ll get the orchard done and the pasture dragged.”
“You sure?” Earl asks. “You’ve got your own operation.”
“I’m sure. We’re not lettin’ Longhorn go down because someone thinks sabotage is a strategy.”
“First time she’s had someone in her corner who can actually back it up,” Nadine says quietly.
Earl gives a rare nod. “You’re a good man, Maverick.”
I shake my head. “I’m not a damn saint. Just not lettin’ her sink while I’ve got a rope.”
I step aside, pull out my phone, and call Zane. He answers on the first ring.
“Load the 5070 and the rake. Bring the toolbox and a couple of hands to Longhorn. We’ve got sugar in a diesel tank and a rancher who needs help.”
After I finish the call, I go into the house to check on Aria. She’s gripping the banister, her face pale and drawn.
“I’ve got you,” I tell her, slipping an arm around her waist.
She doesn’t argue—just leans into me. She’s barely upright.
