I arrived at our property with my children and a woman in a white dress yelled at me: “Get off my property or I’ll call the police,” but when the officers arrived, the lie she had spun in front of everyone fell apart.

The sheriff’s deputies arrived eleven minutes after that. Courtney ran toward the first officer while crying and trying to fix her ruined dress.

“Thank God you are here!” she exclaimed. “Those savages entered my property and attacked my guests, so I want them arrested!” The deputy observed her face covered in cream and the destroyed table in silence.

Then he walked up to me and asked if the property belonged to her. “No, it is mine,” I replied.

“Can you prove it to me?” he asked. “Give me just a few minutes,” I told him.

He nodded once and held my gaze. A guest nearby whispered that Courtney had insisted for weeks that she had bought the ranch.