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“There is another way,” said Quinn. “They’ll drive right through Pyrite Falls as long as you allow people to use the road that goes through your land, Levi Granger. That would be the most direct way to access the Sullivan’s Point farm store from the highway.”

“No,” he said.

“What?”

“I said no. It’s my land, and you don’t need to be treading on it. Bottom line.”

“But...but... You’re being unreasonable,” she said.

“I don’t think I am. I think I’m being perfectly reasonable. I am here voicing the opinions of a collective, Ms. Sullivan. It’s not personal.” Except with all those sparkly green eyes pointed at him, it felt damned personal. And he couldn’t deny, the memory of working with the Sullivans in the past made his gut burn now.

“You...you...”

“You had your turn to speak already,” he said. “You ceded the floor. I am not done. This would have an impact that is difficult to project onto a community that is already struggling. These last few years have been hard. The financial burden of trying to keep small businesses going when movement and numbers were down has been incredibly difficult. We lost cows because we weren’t able to travel to the USDA weigh stations. We are still trying to dig out from under all of these issues. And it isn’t getting easier. In periods of financial instability, Four Corners is able to bolster itself in a way that the rest of us cannot, and we must look to our own interests. We vote against.”

“It isn’t actually up to a vote,” said Quinn.

“You have to get the permits,” said Levi. “And many people that are party to approving the permits are here, and I hope that they take into consideration the potential impact upon the community.”

“I hope they do,” said Quinn. “Because clearly there is a logic gap happening in your head. More people means more money.”

“A logic gap?” he asked. “Is that college words for you’re stupid?”

She turned pink. “I didn’t say that,” said Quinn. “But if you exemplify it...”

A roar went through the room, and arguments began to break out all over.

Over in her seat, his sister looked like she wished she had a bucket of popcorn.

She had always been far too into drama for her own good.

“Order,” said Sawyer Garrett, standing up and making his way to the stage. “Thank you for coming and voicing your concern, Levi,” said Sawyer, his expression cool. But Levi could see that Sawyer wasn’t actually appreciative of Levi’s presence. “It’s up to the county now.”

“Yes, it is,” said Levi. “I trust that they’ll make the right decision.”

“Now that the meeting is through,” Sawyer said, “everyone—” he looked over at Levi “—everyone is welcome to stay for a bonfire and some food. We are a community, even if we disagree sometimes. And if we can’t come together over food and music, then what is the point of any of it? So I hope that all of you, regardless of where you stand on this issue, will stay.”

Levi looked over at Quinn Sullivan, who was scowling, and he had a feeling that she was hoping if he did stay he choked on a chicken bone.

Fine. He didn’t like her, either.

But he’d said his piece, and he was not staying for a barbecue.

“Come on, Cam. Let’s go.”

“I want to stay,” she said, looking around with wide eyes.

“You can’t,” he said. “Because Quinn Sullivan is probably fixing to get her shotgun and dispatch me.”

“Well, as long as there’s a ritual sacrifice after, I think it’s worth staying for.”

“Speak for yourself when it’s your own ritual sacrifice on the table.”

“Please,” she said.

“I’ll take you down to Mapleton for pizza and ice cream.”

“Okay,” she said. “That sounds good.”