It needed fewer.
Garrick resisted immediately.
“A ranch without cattle?”
“I said fewer.”
“You make money by selling cattle.”
“You lose money feeding animals the land cannot support.”
“This year is dry.”
“Exactly.”
Nola pointed to Mae’s records.
“She was reducing herd size before she got sick.”
Garrick stared.
“You can read ledgers?”
“I can read everything.”
“Modest.”
“Useful.”
Mae had also planned to lease spring access to two neighboring small ranchers during drought.
Not Crow.
Others.
A modest fee.
Reliable income.
Garrick had refused the idea originally because he feared overuse.
Nola recalculated.
With controlled access, it worked.
Garrick implemented Mae’s plan.
That mattered.
Not Nola’s genius.
Mae’s unfinished work.
The dead could still contribute without becoming ghosts that prevented the living from moving.
By summer, Hollow Creek stopped losing money.
By harvest, it turned a small profit.
Not enough to become rich.
Enough.
Enough was miraculous.
Nola planned to leave after harvest.
That was the contract.
Room.
Board.
Thirty dollars monthly.
Stay through harvest.
The first cold morning of October, she packed her travel bag.
Everything still fit inside.
Almost.
Clara had given her a ribbon.
Eli gave her a carved wooden horse.
Weston contributed a rock he claimed was “valuable.”
Nola packed all three.
Garrick stood in the doorway.
“You're leaving.”
“Yes.”
“You knew that.”
“Yes.”
“You could stay.”
She continued folding.
“As what?”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came.
Nola looked at him.
“Exactly.”
His face tightened.
“You work here.”
“Contract ended.”
“I can pay more.”
“This isn't about pay.”
“Then what?”
Nola closed the bag.
“You needed a housekeeper.”
“I became something else.”
His voice softened.
“You did.”
“What?”
There it was.
The question neither had allowed.
Garrick stepped into the room.
“I don't know.”
Nola almost laughed.
“Very compelling.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try better.”
He looked toward the window.
Then:
“When you arrived, I wanted you gone.”
“I noticed.”
“I thought you were too young.”
“Yes.”
“Too sharp.”
“Yes.”
“Too stubborn.”
“Correct.”
“I thought the agency had sent me another problem.”
Nola folded her arms.
“This proposal is going beautifully.”
He smiled faintly.
Then became serious.
“You walked into a house I had stopped seeing.”
“You saved Weston.”
“You saved me from killing Wren.”
“Possibly Crow.”
“You found what happened to Mae.”
“You helped finish work she started.”
“You made my children laugh again.”
His voice broke.
“And when I imagine this house after you leave…”
He stopped.
Nola’s chest tightened.
Garrick continued:
“I hear it going quiet.”
She looked down.
He stepped closer.
“I don't want quiet again.”
Nola looked at him.
“That is not the same as wanting me.”