“There’s a plaque on the wall that says this was a project back in the seventies. My guess is it was a way of slowing down the flow of water back when the neighborhood was being developed. At one point there were vineyards up and down the street.”

Colin marched past her and up to the plaque she described. Only now it was too charred to read. He peered up at the hillside, the V of the canyon. Yeah, engineers back in the seventies would have wanted to do something to slow down the force of water to save homes downstream.

“The forestry department owns the property beyond this point?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

She nodded. “My parents used to tell me about the first year they lived here. People would drive onto the property and up the creek and camp.”

Colin watched her eyes narrow as she looked up the canyon.

“Camp. As in campfires and tents. Mom told us that my dad fenced the property in the space of one weekend after he realized that people thought they could trespass to get on forest land.”

“I would imagine that would be difficult.” He’d never lived on a property this large, and didn’t really know what it would feel like if he had. Yet from the look on Parker’s face, she understood the full extent of the difficulties.

“Ever since the fire, neighbors and lookie-loos have felt free to march right up the creek or through the open gate as if this isn’t private property. I completely understand why my dad fenced the place the way he did.” She jumped up on a rock and kept moving beyond the structure. Parker stopped only once they were in the center of the dry creek bed and surrounded by steep hillsides.

Colin turned around and looked behind them. He knew as they walked on forest land that there wouldn’t be anything the county or the city could do at that point. Their jurisdiction ended at Parker’s property line. And even then, they would need her cooperation to do anything.

“With this much privacy surrounding you, I’d take offense to strangers trespassing, too.” He pictured his crew, their equipment . . . and so much more invading this gunslinging woman’s space. The weight of her stare caught his attention before he turned to look at her.

“What is it going to take to hold all this back?”

“A lot.”

“I have a feeling that’s an understatement.”

He noticed her shiver.

“We may have another winter of drought.” It had been over seven years since Southern California had a decent amount of rainfall.

“You wanna make a bet on that?” There wasn’t an ounce of humor on her face.

He shook his head. “No.”

Miss Sinclair released a long breath, and Colin wanted to put an arm over her shoulder to tell her everything would work out. Even though he wasn’t sure it would.

The cork released from the bottle with a refreshing pop.

Mallory walked around the corner and tossed her purse on the island in the kitchen and an overnight bag on the floor.

“Where are you off to?” Parker asked.

“I already told you. Tricia’s parents are letting us use their place at the beach.”

Parker poured a generous portion of wine in her glass. “Oh, right. I forgot.”

Her sister regarded her with a frown. “It’s Saturday, you should be out.”

The energy it would take to put on makeup sounded exhausting. “Maybe next weekend.”

“You say that every weekend.”

Parker tilted the glass to her lips. “I’m fine. Go, have a good time.”

“Come with me.”

She set her glass down. “And who would feed Scout in the morning?”

Just the mention of their dog’s name had him lifting his snout from his paws to look at them.

“Austin can do it.”

“Austin is with friends. He already called to say he’s staying the night.”

Mallory opened her mouth to argue.

Parker cut her off. “I’m exhausted. I appreciate the offer.” Though partying with her sister’s friends sounded more like babysitting than a night off.

“I feel bad.”

“Don’t. I’m going to toss some chicken on the grill, make a salad, and go to bed.”

“You’re working too hard. Why don’t we use the insurance money to hire some guys to take off some of the load?”

“We’ve already been over this. We need to save as much as we can now so we can fix the place up after the winter.”

Mallory opened her purse and removed her car keys. “I don’t know what you’re worried about. We haven’t seen runoff in the creek for years.”

“And if winter comes and goes and nothing happens, all the better.”

“You’ll hire help then?” she asked.

“I will.”

Mallory shouldered her bag and waved with her purse. “I’ll be home Sunday night.”

Parker buried the jealousy sneaking up her spine. “Have fun.”

From the expansive porch off the family room, she watched the taillights of her sister’s car as it made its way down the driveway. The car paused at the gate and the alarm sounded in the house through the speakers. “Driveway gate operating.”

Scout moved to her side and sat.

“Just you and me,” she told the dog.

Scout looked at her as if he understood and lowered the rest of his body to the ground.

After tilting one of the outdoor dining chairs over, and pounding off the ash, Parker sat for the first time in hours.

The sun was starting to set, and the temperature had finally dropped under ninety.

The hillsides she’d stared at her entire life stood in blackened silence. Her ears strained for the sound of wildlife.

Nothing.

All she heard was the beat of her own heart in her head. She never thought she’d welcome the call of coyotes, or the scurrying of bunnies that destroyed the lawn.

Colin Hudson’s conversation rolled in her head as she sipped her wine.

He’d told her about the upcoming meeting of department heads that would determine if there was anything the city or county could do in the limited time they had before the rainy season began. Then, of course, someone needed to find the money to fund the project. Colin made it clear he had nothing to do with that. His job was to manage a team to do the work the engineers designed.

When Parker had asked what kind of design, Colin had been vague.

“Containment structures.”

“What does that mean?”

“Basins.”

“Like a ditch?”

“More like an empty lake.”

Only the space he pointed out wasn’t anything like a lake. It wasn’t deep, it was filled with rocks, and it funneled right through her property.

Before he left, he shook her hand and said the people above him would be getting in touch with her once they had a plan.

“And if they decide they can’t do anything?” she’d asked him.

“Then I’ll come by and tell you.” His assurance calmed her, or maybe it was the man. Either way, it was soothing to hear someone else talk about preventing a problem before it happened. For weeks she felt as if she was the only one thinking about the what-ifs of winter. Then TDH—tall, dark, and handsome—showed up and reaffirmed her fears and offered solutions at the same time. It felt good to know she wasn’t crazy.