Cortland
An email chirp pierces the office silence. I squint against harsh sunlight and click open Cam's message. Another dead end – client confidentiality blocks access to Mowery's attorney. Frustration surges as I grip the desk edge, hardwood groaning.
"Terrific," I mutter, teeth clenched.
Without those water rights, our ranch is dust. A pounding headache takes root. That withered snake found a way to screw us over from the grave.
Sagebrush scent wafts in, choking as Mowery's legacy. I refuse to be another casualty. There must be an angle Cam missed.
I push back, chair scraping. Legal loopholes won't work against experts in tunneling through law. Reality sinks in – we need direct measures to secure the ranch's future.
Tires crunch gravel. Cadee arrives, Stacey in tow – ready to whe
