Page 144 of The Mountain Echoes
The west fence line still needs reinforcement—Earl had patched it, but it needs new T-posts and tightened wire. That’s two days of work, maybe more, depending on the terrain and whether Wes’s sabotage included pulling any caps or splicing hidden weak points into the wire.
We need to rotate the younger stock back to pasture, clear out the east paddock for vet checks,and prepare for the calves to drop soon. That means catching, roping, checking the navels and joints, dehorning the bull calves, and recording their weights.
It’s gritty, repetitive work—but it’s how we track gains, prep for the next auction cycle, and keep disease out.
The heifers Duke and Elena gave us need close watching. They’re bred and due late summer. I’ll need to adjust their feed, isolate them if needed, and make damn sure we’re ready for a clean, low-stress calving.
And…we need to build a new fucking barn.
Vera’s reworking the pantry list because we burned through more supplies than expected during auction week.
Nadine is coordinating with the irrigation guy because the orchard pump is still giving us trouble, and I have to call the bank about possibly reworking the second note.
Not because we’re desperate—not anymore—but because smart means planning six months ahead, not six hours.
I walk the line between grief and grit, between missing Earl and honoring him.
He’d want fences mended, fields turned, cattle fed. And I’ll do it. We’ll all do it, rain or shine, grief or no grief ‘cause the land doesn’t stop for sorrow.
So, I get to work.
Maverick goes back to Kincaid Farms. I can only imagine how much he’s been missing taking care ofLonghorn and me. I don’t feel guilty about it—at least I’m trying not to.
When I brought it up with him, he simply said,“It’s what you do when you love someone, darlin’.”
By midday, I’m sweaty and exhausted. I come back to the ranch house for a quick lunch. I have to go see Father McKay late afternoon to talk about Earl’s funeral. The thought makes my stomach convulse as the indelible truth once more slams into me:Earl is gone.
I’m on the porch with a mug of coffee when I see Maverick’s truck come down the long, dusty driveway.
My face lights up. I wasn’t expecting him now. We were going to meet Father McKay at church in a couple of hours.
He strides up the short stairs onto the porch and gives me a kiss. “Sheriff is on his way. He gave me a heads up.”
I stiffen.
There’s crime scene tape all over the barn and paddock. I’ve had forensic people here all day yesterday, dusting for fingerprints and picking up the pieces of the bomb that killed Hudson.
“I’ll ask Vera to have coffee ready.”
Maverick holds me back from walking into the house. “They found Wes, I told you. They’ve talked to him.”
“Okay.”
“Darlin’, there’ll be some hard truths to face.”
“About Celine, you mean?”
He nods, watching me for signs of distress.
I give him a wan smile. “I know.”
Sheriff Hugh Dillon removes his Stetson when he comes into the house. A man follows, he looks like law enforcement, but not from the sheriff’s office.
He introduces himself asSpecialAgentBelushi.
Something nasty crawls up my spine. FBI?
We go into the kitchen.
