I set Scott’s note aside and pulled out Roy’s letter.

Dear Scott,

I hope this letter finds you well. As I told you the last time we talked, I’m thinking of selling the family ranch. I do so reluctantly as it’s been in my family for generations. Over the past few months, however, a series of “accidents” has made me wonder if someone is trying to thwart my plans. It started small—a burst pipe, a mix-up in reservations—but now I have some major concerns. Our primary focus, and income source, is our team-building program. With the death of two patrons, and several other incidents, I have lost liability coverage and am on notice of losing all my insurance. This all may be a run of very bad luck as I can’t put my finger on any particular pattern, but I could use another set of eyes. Please be discreet.

Roy

Insurance statements, letters from guests, a timeline of events, employee information, and reservations for the resort rounded out the packet. I could probably knock this out in a few hours, do some casual interviews, then grab the next horse and wagon back to town. Yee-haw.

My irritation with Scott dissolved. I might even enjoy this.

Under all the paperwork was some bubble wrap enclosing a plastic sandwich bag with three small rocks inside and a note. I unfolded the note.

Darby,

I wanted to give this to you in person before you left but was called away. As per our tradition with all residents of Clan Firinn when they leave for the first time, I’m giving you two Bible verses and a small gift. The first verse is for the challenges of the present. It’s from Joshua 1:9. “This is my command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” The second you will need to look up—Jeremiah 29:11. This will help with your future. The gift is in the plastic bag. Memorize the verses and reflect on them. Carry the gift with you. When the time comes, you’ll know what to do with both.

Scott Thomas

I hadn’t packed the Bible they gave me when I arrived at Clan Firinn. Although daily chapel was a part of the Clan Firinn program, I’d left my faith five years ago.

Maverick stood, then walked over and sat in front of me, but well out of reach.

“What?”

He blinked.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

He cocked his head but remained seated. He was so large, even seated, that his head was higher than mine.

“Need to go to the bathroom? Eat a treat? Discuss whether you cried more over Marley and Me or Old Yeller?”

His gaze went to the note still in my hand.