The fire raged uncontained for three days, sweeping across the dry land all the way to the foothills before they managed to bring some control to the situation. The devastation spread across more than twenty thousand acres. Mr. Phillips’ barn, Mrs. Z, and the Tinsdales lost everything, home and herd. Fort and his family managed to save the structures and house but lost over sixty percent of their herd. As did the other handful of ranches caught in the fire's path including the Williams'.

The following week, Cori captured a photo of Fort's stepfather, Paul, the backdrop the charred land, a cow with severe burns at his feet. He'd just put the animal down, his gun smoking. He had knelt beside the heifer, his hand on the animal, his face, wet with tears, to the sky. The photo was not an original since the scene played out across the county as ranchers were called to perform the gruesome task repeatedly. It was the only humane thing to do.

Each night she and Fort would fall into bed, too exhausted to do more than hold each other, Cori often crying quietly against his shoulder. Deke had formally withdrawn from the election, citing how busy his insurance company would be getting everyone back on their feet. That left Fort set up to be the next sheriff and really no purpose for Cori to stick around other than to help out. Which she did every chance she got. Once things calmed down, she and Fort would need to have the exit-strategy conversation, but she was in no rush.

Wolf Creek, once a beautiful and scenic town with shades of blues, greens, yellows, and purples, was now barren and stark. Its color, black and gray, was accentuated by the sharp contrast of the baby blue sky.

Yet, for all the grief and loss, Cori had never seen a town rally like this one, neighbor helping neighbor. When she wasn't feeding animals on Fort's family's ranch, she was feeding them on someone else's while they were out looking for cattle. She mucked stalls, covered dispatch at the Sheriff's department, and worked alongside Cricket to get the paper out. Additionally, she and Cricket, alongside Mrs. Z, Mrs. Williams, and Ms. Saira, cooked copious amounts of food and delivered the dishes to those ranchers who spent all day in the field, or to the high school gym were many of the now homeless were temporarily sheltered.

It was a week after she submitted her photo, with Paul's permission, that she found out she'd won. The victory was bittersweet. She'd rather the circumstances that led up to the winning photo not have happened. Especially when the fire marshal ruled the fire at the cabin had indeed been caused lightning, but the one by the spring was caused by a human.

Brody. She knew it had been him. Instinct told her so. What she needed to know was if her father had a hand in it, if he was still running his business from behind bars, ranchers across the nation his target. Cori being in Wolf Creek would be a coincidence, having made sure not to tell her mother where she as going. If that was the case, then she thought perhaps it was a sign from the universe that she was meant to stop him. Why else would she be privy to this information?

Cori stared out Saira's kitchen window, amazed at the tiny flecks of green peeking up through the charred ground, the resilience of the people and the land, and felt the huge weight of guilt press down upon her. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if her father was involved. If he'd attempted to destroy another small town. How would she look people in the eye if that was the case? She would not spend another decade trying to right his misdeeds. To do so would break her.

“Cori,” Saira said next to her.

Cori brought her attention back to the kitchen. “Sorry. I was thinking.”

Saira smiled softly. “Must have been something deep. You look heartbroken.”

“I was just thinking about what everyone here has lost.” She blinked in effort to hold back the tears.

“It'll be hard, but we'll all rebuild. Or move on to other things. Like Mrs. Z. She's going to love living in town and have less to worry about. She's been lonely out there.”

Cori nodded. “I hope you're right.”

“I'm always right,” Saira said. “Now, go put on a dress or something pretty. We're going to town.”

“Are we taking this food to the gym? Do we have extra to take to Hannah?” Hannah had gone into labor the day of the fires and, thankfully, had been out of town. Even though the Jacobson's hadn't lost anything in the fire, the exhausted mom with two demanding infant boys was on the meal rotation.

Saira shook her head while pushing Cori from the kitchen. “Hurry or we'll be late.”

“For what?” Cori called over her shoulder to no avail. She'd been shoved out the door, and it had been closed soundly behind her. She changed into a long peasant shirt and her cowboy boots. Then helped Saira finish loading the dishes into the backseat of the truck.

The sun was setting on what looked to be a beautiful night. A layer of golden yellow beams rose from the horizon with a slate blue sky resting above it. When they arrived in town, Saira parked near the newspaper.

“Do me a favor and go collect Fort. Meet us by the gazebo. We've all been working hard and need something good tonight,” Saira said.

Cori nodded and slipped from the truck. She walked the block and half to Fort's building. Maybe now she should bring up their situation, much as she dreaded it. After all the town had just been through, it wouldn't be fair to keep pretending that she and Fort were each other's true love, particularly when only half of that statement was true.

When she entered the Sheriff's Department she found Fort, Deke, Sheriff Tinsdale, and the fire marshal sitting at a round table at the far end of the room. None of them heard her come in, and she was about to announce her presence when what the fire marshal was saying caught her attention.

“Yeah, there's no doubt that the spring’s fire was deliberate. The bottle that was used to start it has been processed. Looks like he stuffed kindling into it and lit it. Set the darned thing against a tree.”

Someone swore softly.

“The fingerprints off the bottle provided a hit to one Michael Brody.” He handed the group a picture. Cori wished she could see it, but instinct told her she knew who it was. Michael Brody and Brody Fant were the same people. She didn't need a picture to confirm that.

“Do you have any leads?” Fort asked.

The fire marshal said, “Right now, he's in the wind. Last place we have him tracked was a State penitentiary in Texas. He went to visit a”—he looked at the paper—“Mr. Charles Walters. This make sense to anyone?”

Cori gasped. “No. Not again,” she cried.

Fort spun in his chair. When he saw her, he leapt to his feet. “Cori, you don't know anything yet. None of us do. Don't make this into anything.”

She brushed away tears. Was there anywhere she could go where her father wouldn't show up? “Really? Do you really think that's true? Look at me and tell me you think he's not involved in this.”

Fort sighed, and she could read the pity in his eyes. She didn't know what was worse, his pity or the town of Brewster’s derision. Either way, they both sucked.

“That's what I thought,” she said and spun on her heel. She didn't bother to close the door behind her. She was halfway across the parking lot to the square when she heard him call her name. She kept her focus forward, a plan forming with each step. She would bring justice to Wolf Creek if it was the last thing she did.

Fort caught up with her just as she stepped up onto the grass of the square. He grabbed her elbow and forced her to walk alongside him. “Slow down for a second,” he said.

“No, I can't.”

“Babe.” He sounded exasperated.

They were walking around the far side of the gazebo when the park lights suddenly went on to show a large portion of the townsfolk had gathered.

“Surprise!” they said in unison.

A banner reaching from one side of the gazebo to the next swung in the breeze. It read Cori and Fort and had tomorrow's date.

Fort and Cori stopped short.

“What's this?” Fort asked and gestured to the banner.

Tables set in rows were covered with lavender tablecloths, flowers, and dishes upon dishes of food.

“Oh, no,” Cori said, then covered her mouth in mortification.

“This is your rehearsal dinner,” Mrs. Z called from within the crowd.

“We figured after the fire, this town could use something to look forward to, and what better than y'all's wedding?” Saira said.

“Ma,” Fort said sadly.

“The Lutheran minister from Bison's Prairie is coming tomorrow at noon to do the deed,” Mrs. Williams said. “I'm in charge of the cake.” She clasped her hands in delight.

“No,” Cori said, softly at first, then again louder. The generosity of the town was amazing and heartbreaking. Never was there a place filled with people she loved more, and all this time she worried about her father hurting them when she was about to do more damage.

But she would not go forward with any more lies. That was no way to live, and she certainly wasn’t about to marry a man who had never asked her.

“Come on, give them some champagne and let’s get to the eating,” someone in the crowd called, probably Mr. Phillips.

“No,” Cori yelled. “We aren't getting married.”

A hush fell over the crowd. Fort squeezed her arm. She jerked it free and stepped forward, tears flowing like mad down her face.

“Why? Because you aren't ready? None of us are, honey. You just have to jump in,” said the cashier from the quickie-mart.

Cori choked back a sob. “We aren't getting married because we aren't engaged. Never have been.”

“I'm confused,” Cricket said.

Cori wiped away the tears using her palm. She blew out a slow breath, hoping to steady herself, but failed. She shot Fort a look that hopefully conveyed her deep regret for what she was about to do. “I was—” She almost said hired but changed her mind. “I came here to help Fort win the election. It was a ruse.” She held up her hand. “But before you think poorly of Fort, know this. He loves this town. He just didn't know how to show it. He loves each and every one of you, and if you find yourself doubting that, think back to the last week. You all wouldn't give him a fair shake because he keeps to himself. But he's shy. He's private.” She turned to him. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I had to tell them.”

He stood tall, hands in his pockets, and nodded.

She faced the group. “There is something you should know about me. My dad is a cattle rustler. He's also a con man and is serving time in a Texas State Prison for crimes much like the ones that happened here and have been happening to good folks like you throughout the county. The man who set one of the fires works for my dad.”

A few people gasped, and a murmur began to ripple through the group.

“Any chance your dad's an alien?” Mr. Phillips asked.

Cori gave a wobbly smile. “I wish. Unfortunately no. Just a bad man. I'm sorry.” She said. “From the very bottom of my heart, I apologize to each and every one of you. My intention was to help a good man get into office.” She clasped her hands over her heart. “I love this town, and I'm sorry for any pain I might have caused each of you. Truly.” She sniffed, turned on her heel, and ran.