Waverly's Arc

Chapter 3 of 13

The convoy rolled in just before noon, six wagons pulled by horses that looked too well-fed for the desert roads. Waverly watched from the post office window as they passed under the archway and circled the square twice before stopping near the market stalls. By the time she crossed the square, the merchants had erected a display that spread across three canvas tents strung with bright pennants. Crates stood open to show glazed pottery, bolts of dyed fabric, and sealed jars labeled with coastal stamps. A man in a pressed coat stood at the center tent, speaking to a small crowd about fair prices and reliable delivery schedules. Waverly studied the wagons instead—each one painted with decorative scrollwork that looked expensive, the kind of detail meant to suggest prosperity. She recognized the lead driver from the post office two days ago. The stranger who'd asked about Lovelock's routes now stood beside the merchant in the pressed coat, scanning faces in the crowd. When his eyes found hers, he didn't look away. Waverly walked straight to the display tent and asked the merchant what terms he was offering local traders. He smiled and gestured to the goods around them—premium materials at rates that undercut Prescott suppliers by a third, he said, with guaranteed delivery even during storm season. Waverly asked how he planned to guarantee delivery when the weather turned in three days. The merchant's smile tightened. They had arrangements with reliable contacts, he said. Waverly glanced at the stranger, who was still watching her. She told the merchant she'd heard he was also offering to buy local stock outright—roses, specifically. The crowd went quiet. The merchant exchanged a look with the stranger, then told Waverly they were simply exploring opportunities to support the community. Waverly nodded and said the community appreciated the interest, but most local traders already had commitments they intended to honor. She walked back to the post office and wrote three messages in quick succession—one to the greenhouse owner in Prescott, one to the foreman at the ranch, and one to a contact in Sedona who tracked merchant licenses. The stranger wasn't just mapping Lovelock's supply chain. He was working with a convoy that planned to replace it entirely, offering prices designed to break existing arrangements and consolidate control before the storm made it impossible to respond. Waverly sealed the messages and sent them with her fastest pigeons, then placed a second amber token in Lovelock's window. This wasn't just a threat anymore. It was an opening move, and now she knew what they were really after.