Coming Home:The Cater Clan

Chapter 3

Cortland

The laptop slams shut. Camden's email burns in my mind, ruining my day.

His words sear into my brain:

"Harlan Mowery's water rights weren't awarded to Austin Mowery. An unknown LLC, A.M. Myers, now holds the legal claim. This jeopardizes our entire operation. We may need to consider more aggressive actions."

Reality sinks in. Losing these rights could toll the death knell for everything my ancestors built. Without water, this land withers to dust.

Who is Myers LLC? Why would Mowery leave the rights to a faceless company instead of family? This reeks of a deliberate slight against us Carters.

Our legacy circles the drain because of some corporate hydra. Over my dead body.

I snatch my gun and storm outside. Clay pigeons explode into oblivion. The kickback jolts against my rage, but fails to quell the inferno inside.

Back in the office, I slam the door. A picture crashes to the floor. With trembling hands, I dial Camden's number.

"What is this about losing the water rights?" I bark.

Camden's stuffy lawyer tone grates. "An LLC called A.M. Myers was the beneficiary of Harlan Mowery's estate. They now own the water rights leases."

"Who is Myers? How do we take these bastards down and get our rights back?"

"Unknown. The LLC's identity remains a mystery. I'll explore options, but it could be a difficult fight."

I curse, kicking over the trash can. "Make it happen, Camden. Those rights are ours. If necessary, pry them from Myers' cold, dead hands!"

Disgust simmers. First, Grandad gambles away our rights. Now some mystery corporation has us in a chokehold. Without those rights, we're crippled.

"Get it done," I growl before hurling the phone across the room.

I seethe, slamming my fist on the desk. How dare some faceless entity snatch what's ours - the lifeblood of the Carter ranch?

Images flash: pastures cracking, cattle withering, our empire crumbling to dust. All because of corporate greed.

This cuts deeper than finances. It's a raw wound striking at our legacy. The Carter name means power and respect from Belmoor to the high ranges. I refuse to let it slip away.

A low growl rumbles in my chest. My muscles coil, ready to strike. If this Myers wants to play hardball, so be it.

We Carters didn't claw our way to the top by rolling over. We took what we wanted through grit and determination, our ambition a roaring fire.

Once I unmask the coward behind Myers, they'll learn you don't steal from a Carter without consequences. They'll beg to cut a deal when I'm done.

I move restlessly, my determination growing stronger. No matter the obstacles, I'll reclaim those water rights and secure our legacy - using any means necessary.

The Carters always get what's owed to them, one way or another.

My strides quicken as anger boils through my veins. That bastard Mowery, screwing me over even from the grave. I should've known he'd pull one last underhanded trick.

When Cadee mentioned our old neighbor's declining health, decency dictated Mowery leave his property to Austin—his only living heir. But decency and Mowery were always oil and water.

Instead, the prick gave his entire estate—including our water rights—to some anonymous corporate entity. A final "f**k you" to the Carters from the bitter old man.

My fist clenches as I recall Austin's trusting smile from years ago. The poor kid's been jerked around enough without Mowery's parting shot dragging her into the crosshairs.

I always chuckled at Cadee brushing off her "best friend" status with the Mowery girl, as if ranch borders and family standing wouldn't carve a rift between them. Still, the two young'uns clung to their bond with youthful naivete.

A rueful snort escapes me. If only Austin had known the truth back then—her dear old gramps despised us so much he'd resort to illegal gambits to swipe assets and keep us tied to him. It could've spared her years of false hope.

I scowl as memories of Austin riding along the fence line flood my mind. Innocent moments frozen in time before life hammered away at her wide-eyed enthusiasm. First, it took her dad, ripping away the ranch life she loved. Now, this latest gut punch from her so-called beloved grandfather.

A twinge of... something flickers in my chest. Sympathy? Nah, can't be. We Carters don't have room for sentiment when legacies are on the line. Still, I can't shake the image of the carefree girl from my head.

I wonder if she even has a horse anymore after all this upheaval. The thought unsettles me.

Shaking my head, I refocus on the harsh reality. That bitter old bastard planted one last roadblock before kicking the bucket. Without those water rights, this valley and everything my ancestors bled for will wither and die.

The familiar burn of rage courses through me, drowning out any fleeting pang regarding Austin. This is war, plain and simple. Mowery may be gone, but I'll be damned if I let his dying spite torpedo my family's legacy.

I punch in Camden's number again, impatience gnawing at me with each ring. When he answers, I don't bother with pleasantries.

"Explain how we lost the water rights, Camden. In vivid, excruciating detail."

A heavy pause before Camden responds, his voice measured. "Harlan updated his will shortly before passing. Most of his estate and assets were transferred to an LLC called A.M. Myers."

"A.M Myers?" I snort. "Is this supposed to mean something? Who or what is this Myers character?"

"We're still looking into it. The LLC seems newly created and registered to a blind trust. Untangling the web will take more digging."

I grip the phone tighter, rage bubbling up. "Well, get f*****g digging! Those rights are the lifeblood of this whole operation. Without them, every acre in this valley is as good as barren."

Camden clears his throat. "I understand the severity, Cortland. It's my legacy as well. We're exploring all legal avenues to challenge this, but the will appears airtight. I'd advise against any rash actions that could jeopardize--"

I cut him off with a humorless laugh. "Save the corporate doublespeak. You know damn well playing by their rules drained our coffers while vultures like Mowery pillaged at will."

My words rush out, years of resentment spilling over. "The old snake robbed us blind, and now he's funneled our asset into some shell company from beyond the grave. I've got news for this Myers clown - we want our water back. And we'll get it, one way or another."

I hang up before he can respond, seething. Losing the rights my grandfather gambled away was a kick to the jewels. But this? This is a whole new level of disrespect. One I won't take lying down.

Spinning in my chair, my gaze settles on the panoramic view of our vast holdings. Rolling hills and grasslands stretch as far as the eye can see, dotted with cattle and cut through by winding streams. A lesser man might cower in insignificance. But not me. This land, this empire, courses through my veins. It's my birthright.

And if some trust fund brat thinks they can stake a claim, they've got another thing coming.

I grab my phone, thumbs hammering out a message to Coldwell. "Get me everything you can on this A.M. Myers LLC. Whoever's behind it, they're about to learn a hard lesson about picking fights with a Carter."

The reply is instant: "You got it, bro. Digging starts now."

A thin smile plays across my lips. Good old Coldwell - wild as the prairie wind, but loyal to a fault. When push comes to shove, he'll back my play without question.

I lean back, steepling my fingers as I mull over my next move. Trying to regain the rights legally is a non-starter - that route's been a dead end for decades. No, this calls for a more... opportunistic approach. If Myers wants to tussle, I'll oblige them. The gloves can come off.

A bitter chuckle escapes my lips as I think about the naive little Mowery girl riding her ponies back in the day. She was so goddamn clueless, frolicking around without a care while our futures were being traded like casino chips. If she's the one holding the strings here, she's in way over her head.

Then again, maybe it's for the best if it's not her. At least with Austin, there was a shred of history and some bargaining leverage. This faceless LLC has no ties and no reason to play ball. A fight on a new front is exactly what I need.

The anger bubbling inside me settles into cold determination. Whoever Myers is, I'll find them. And when I do, they'll wish they never set foot in my valley. One way or another, those water rights are coming home.

I push away from the desk, reinvigorated. There's work to be done - operatives to deploy, backchannel strings to pull. It's time to show this interloper how things are done in Carter Country.

The sun dips over the horizon, bathing the rangeland in crimson. A new dawn is coming. And God help anyone standing in its way.

I grab my phone and punch in Carrington's number. He picks up on the second ring, his gruff voice a welcome sound. "What's going on, Cort?"

"We've got a situation," I growl. "Remember those water rights Grandad lost in that damn poker game? They've changed hands again."

A momentary pause as the weight of my words sinks in. Carrington's no fool - he knows what this could mean for our family's legacy.

"Well s**t," he mutters, the curse uncharacteristic for my often reserved brother. "You're telling me Mowery didn't leave them to Austin?"

I snort. "Like the old bastard would make things easy on us. Nah, he bequeathed the whole damn estate to some mystery LLC - A.M. Myers or some crap."

Fury edges Carrington's tone when he responds. "So we've got new players in town looking to strong-arm us? Over my dead body."

A grim smile plays across my lips as I lean back, staring over the dusty mesa. Out there somewhere, a faceless enemy has their hand around our throat. But not for long.

"Don't worry, baby bro," I say, my voice a rugged rasp. "I've already got Coldwell digging into this Myers character. We'll find the skeletons in their closet soon enough."

A dark chuckle comes from the other end of the line - the sound of a wolf scenting its prey. "Good. Get me whatever you can dig up. I don't care what strings need pulling or palms need greasing. We're getting those rights back."

"By any means necessary," I agree with a feral grin. There's a fleeting image of Austin in my mind's eye, but I quickly push it away. She made her choice long ago when she abandoned this valley. There's no room for sentiment now - only cold, hard truth.

I hang up and toss my phone onto the desk with a contemptuous sneer. My gaze drifts out the window again, roaming over the vast expanse of ranchland that's been in my family's grip for generations. The horizon stretches out in a shimmering haze, the sky brilliant blue and endless.

A bitter smile twists my lips as I reach for the bourbon, pouring myself a few fingers. Maybe the old man always intended to have the last laugh. Even in death, he's still jerking us around like marionettes on strings.

I toss back the liquor in one fiery swallow. The future I had constructed unravels, and I'm caught bare-ass in the middle, scrambling for purchase against forces I don't fully comprehend.

One thing's certain - I can't let this upstart Myers beat me at my own game. Not when the very survival of the Carter legacy hangs in the balance. By hook or by crook, I'll find a way to cut through this Gordian knot and seize back what's ours.

Even if I have to burn this whole f*****g valley to the ground to do it.