Page 98 of Lost Trust

Matty sighs.

“Where families of academy students and staff could come vacation,” Harleigh continues, “or even tiny cabins where sponsors who are out scouting new rodeo talent could kick up their feet after checking out the school.” She gestures enthusiastically with her fork. “It could be rustic but comfortable. Maybe a fire pit. Little porches. A place for people to stay without having to drive all the way into town.”

Matty rolls her eyes. “Yes, we know. It is going to be a great addition,” she says. “You don’t have to keep trying to convince me.”

“I just want you to remember how brilliant I am when it all works.”

Mom looks between them. “Well, that’s refreshing,” she says, sitting a little straighter. “Boss babes.” She slaps her palm against the table, delighted. “Women running the show. Women calling the shots. I freaking love it.”

Harleigh points at her. “Right on.”

The doors to the dining hall swing open, and two familiar figures saunter in.

Cabe and Micah.

They’re both covered in dust and sweat, their shirts damp across their backs, boots caked with dirt. Whatever they’ve been working on, it wasn’t easy.

They head straight for the food line, and once they have plates loaded down, Cabe spots us and walks over to the table.

“Matty.”

She looks up. “Please tell me you have good news.”

Micah drops into the empty chair beside Jovie, looking exhausted. “Fuck, I’m starving,” he mumbles.

Cabe pulls a chair from the table next to us and sits beside me.

“So …” Matty prompts.

Cabe wipes his forehead with the back of his wrist. “We got the well pump repaired in the southern pasture.”

Matty exhales a relieved breath. “You did?”

“Yeah. Took most of the morning, but we got it running.”

“So, the water system is back up?” she asks. “Running like it should?”

Cabe nods. “Cattle have water again. We flushed the lines and checked the pressure. Everything looks good.”

“Thank God,” Matty says. “The last thing we need is to have to move the herd before vaccinations.”

“Thought you’d like it.”

Cabe finally seems to notice the unfamiliar woman sitting with us. His eyes shift to Ginger.

“Cabe, Micah,” I say, already bracing myself, “this is my mother, Ginger.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Cabe says.

Mom looks him up and down. Slowly. Then she smiles. “Well, hello, handsome.”

Cabe blinks.

“Don’t call me ma’am.”

He looks confused.

Mom extends her hand. “Ginger.”