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“Yes, we have an easement approval for a permanent right of passage through Crown land.”
“Well, that, yes.” Percy met his gaze. “But you’re doing this. If you didn’t prove yourself before this, you certainly will now. Not one person in these mountains will ever doubt you again.”
His smile was shy and grateful. “Thank you, Percy. I couldn’t have done this without you. Hell, I couldn’t have even read this letter without you.”
Percy wanted to lean up on his toes and press his lips to Albie’s right there in the stable, in the middle of the day, but he didn’t dare. But oh boy, how he wanted to...
“Will it be just you and me going down the mountain?” Percy asked, his voice low.
Albie seemed to understand exactly where Percy’s thoughts had taken him. “Yes.”
“We best have Elsie pack us adequate bread... and butter.”
Albie grinned. “I’ve already asked.”
* * *
They had an early lunch and were heading down the mountain with the summer sun directly overhead. As if the birds and insects agreed with Percy’s mood, there was song all around them.
McAllister had made some headway with the fencing that now separated their land, though thankfully they’d had no repeats of missing children.
McAllister had left them alone too, which Percy was grateful for. How happy he’d be to hear that Albie would be utilising the bottom part of his land, diversifying his income, branching out, and being successful. Well, that remained to be seen.
Would Albie ever be a threat to McAllister’s wealth?
No.
Not likely.
But Percy remembered how McAllister had wanted to buy Albie’s farm. Made a deal of it. And maybe it wasn’t about the land at all. Maybe it was just to prove that he could buy Albie’s property—or any property for that matter—on a whim. That he could throw money at whomever he chose, like a sport.
But Albie had once mentioned that McAllister’s property didn’t include the river like Albie’s did. And people like McAllister always wanted what other people had.
McAllister’s property didn’t have massive cliffs dividing it in two, either. He had more farmable acreage, flat rolling pastures. He’d always seen Albie’s farm as lesser than his own.
Except for the river.
Access to water for livestock, for housing. Water was a valuable commodity.
Percy wasn’t sure why he was thinking about that.
Something in the back of his mind.
“You’re being quiet,” Albie said. They were halfway down the mountain, meandering down the steep incline, ducking branches as they went. “Silence from you concerns me.”
“Concerns you? Why?”
“You’re either mad at me or you’ve got your thinking cap on, and either way, I’m in trouble.”
Percy laughed. “I’m pleased to know that you’ve learned this. But if you have to know, I was thinking about what you’re going to do to me tonight. By the campfire, under the stars. Not another soul for miles.” He sighed wistfully. “How much butter did Elsie supply us with?”
Albie shifted in his saddle and cleared his throat. “You shouldn’t say such things to me, or we’ll stop right here.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed.”
Albie shot him a look over his shoulder, half scowl, half warning. “We need to get to the bottom before dark. If we stop now, we might as well set up camp right here, and how would you propose we sleep on ground this steep?”
“Well, I don’t have plans for sleeping much tonight.”
