Page 138 of The Mountain Echoes
Maverick leans in, checks for a pulse anyway. “Son of a bitch,” he says under his breath.
I stagger back, one hand over my mouth, bile rising in my throat. “He was going to blow us all up.”
I look up at what’s left of Longhorn’s barn—half a roof. A wall burned black and splintered. Smoke curling into the morning like the ghost of everything we lost.
My soul feels scorched.
I’m shaking. I can’t feel my legs.
This was the endgame. If all else fails, blow the animals up.
I sink to my knees, hands buried in ash and splinters and earth, as tears burn down my face.
For Earl. For the barn. For everything we’ve lost.
Maverick crouches next to me, and we hold each other.
“I won’t let this be the end,” I whisper, not even sure who I’m talking to. Earl. My father. The land. Myself. “They can’t take this from me.”
“I won’t let them,” he promises.
I smile sadly at him. “For the first time, I don’t feel alone.”
“You’re not, and you’ll never be.” His eyes are moist with emotion.
I cup his cheek. “They tried to burn it all down. But we’re still standing.”
CHAPTER 32
maverick
Aria couldn’t think about the auction—not with the sheriff’s people crawling over Longhorn, not with Earl’s blood barely dry in the dirt.
She knew it needed to be done, knew what was at stake. But she was knee-deep in questions and grief, and I knew Hugh would’ve let her go if she asked.
But why should she, when she has me?
She didn’t ask me—she didn’t have to.
“I can go,” she whispers. “I should go.”
I gently took her hand. “You’ve already done everything you needed to do. I promised Earl I’d take care of things. Let me keep that promise.”
Looking back, my last conversation with Earl feels like a premonition. He didn’t just ask me to watch over her—he asked me to make sure she didn’t break.
“You sure?” she asks.
“Accepting help makes you strong, not weak,” I remind her.
I don’t want to leave her here, not with the mess of the bomb and Earl, but I’m going to trust that Hugh will do his job so I can do mine.
She nods slowly as if every movement is hard, her limbs are too heavy. I understand grief, the immensity of it. She has Nadine and Vera here, but I want her to have more people.
I call Joy, who adored her Mr. E. She says she’s on her way, and she’ll rally the troops and call Bree.
“How is she?” Joy asks as soon as she gets out of her Jeep.
“Destroyed.” I hug my sister. “You take care of her. I’ll go take care of her herd.”
