Anna Mae sees the dust cloud before she hears the hoofbeats. Callum rides in hard, his horse lathered and breathing heavy, and the look on his face tells her everything she needs to know. Someone else has their eyes on the land she wants for the saloon. His hat tumbles off as he dismounts, forgotten in the dirt. He grabs her arm, words spilling out about a man from back east with cash money and plans to build. Anna Mae listens, jaw tight, then cuts him off mid-sentence. She tells him to find the man and bring him here. If he wants the land, he'll have to beat her for it. Callum stares at her for three heartbeats, then his face breaks into that look — the one that says he already knows how this ends. He retrieves his hat, slaps the dust off, and rides back out to fetch her a race. By sundown, she's standing across from a stranger in a pressed suit who thinks his money makes him fast. The terms are simple: whoever reaches the massive boulder at canyon's edge first gets the deeds. She wins by four lengths, and when the man hands over the papers, his face is red but his handwriting is clear. Callum watches from the sideline, quiet and sure, like he knew all along she'd come back with exactly what she needed. The deeds are hers now, pressed against her chest as the sun drops behind the rock that marks the spot where everything changed. She walks to where Callum stands holding both horses. The papers crackle in her hand, crisp and real. He doesn't say anything, just looks at her with that same steady belief he always has. This time, when she thinks about the saloon with good wood tables and paper on the walls, it doesn't feel like a dream someone will laugh at. It feels like something she can touch. She folds the deeds carefully and tucks them inside her coat. The first piece of her plan is real now, written in ink and signed by a man who learned not to mistake her for decoration.