at premium rates.

He had pressured small contract farmers into accepting penalties for delivery delays caused by machinery he knew was unsafe.

On paper, the local division looked unlucky.

In reality, it had been deliberately bled.

The worst part was how many people had paid for it.

Families already operating on thin margins had taken losses they could not absorb.

Seasonal workers lost hours when trucks sat dead in the yard.

One older farmer nearly sold off acreage that had been in his family for generations because Wade’s office kept charging him for missed refrigeration windows caused by equipment failures outside his control.

When Savannah saw the full report, something in her face turned cold enough to stop every conversation in the room.

The confrontation happened in the conference office overlooking the eastern fields.

Wade came in certain he could talk his way free.

He had practiced excuses for years.

Market conditions.

Labor shortages.

Vendor complications.

He even tried to paint Cole as an unqualified outsider looking for someone to blame.

Cole said very little.

He laid the evidence on the table in orderly stacks.

Serial numbers.

duplicate invoices.

falsified signatures.

replacement parts billed three times over.

service dates on machinery whose bolts still held factory dust.

Then he placed a photo of Savannah’s red pickup between them and explained that if the same neglect had happened on any of the company’s main routes during harvest, the losses would have spread across three counties.

Wade’s face changed when he realized he was no longer arguing with suspicion.

He was cornered by facts.

Savannah terminated him on the spot, referred the file to law enforcement and civil counsel, and ordered restitution plans for every local contractor harmed by the scheme.

Within a week, she held a town meeting in the old feed hall and faced the farmers herself.

There were no polished speeches.

She apologized plainly for what had happened under her company’s name.

Then she laid out compensation, revised contracts, and a new independent reporting line that bypassed regional management entirely.

People did not applaud at first.

They listened.

They tested.

They waited.

Trust returned slowly, which meant it was real.

Savannah asked Cole to stay on permanently as Director of Fleet and Field Maintenance for the county division, with authority to build a repair program from scratch.

He laughed when he heard the title.

It sounded like something belonging to a man with a college office and polished shoes, not someone who had been catching rainwater in coffee mugs a month earlier.

Savannah told him titles mattered less than what he would do with the job.

So he told her what he wanted.

Not a corner office.

Not a fancy truck.

He wanted a shop where mechanics had the time and parts to do work right the first time.

He wanted apprenticeships for local kids who were smart with their hands and needed a chance before debt found them.

He wanted emergency repair support for the small farmers who kept getting crushed every time larger systems failed.

And he wanted his wages to be wages, not pity disguised as kindness.

Savannah smiled then, the first truly relaxed smile he had seen from her.

She said yes to all of it.

The company cottage became something more permanent after the