"He's not wrong about priorities. But the way he questioned you? That wasn't fair."
Something in my chest loosened. Just a little. "You noticed that?”
"Hard not to." Ivy bumped her shoulder against mine. "You've been making that call for two years. And Wyatt comes out here to question whether you're prioritizing correctly? When you're the one who set the priorities in the first place?"
I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. "It just... would be nice to be trusted, you know? Not just to execute, but to plan. To dream. To have a say in when things might change."
"I know." Ivy was quiet for a moment. "For what it's worth, I've seen the numbers you put together for the horse program. The ones you never showed anyone?"
I went still. "You found those?"
"They were on your desk. I wasn't snooping, I just—" She gave me a rueful smile. "Okay, I was snooping a little bit. But Maggie, those projections were solid. The horse program could be profitable in three years with the right investment. I may have left them on Wyatt’s desk where he couldn't miss them."
I stared at her, stuck somewhere between furious and elated and terrified. "You showed him my projections?"
"I showed him the opportunity he's been overlooking because you're too good at your job." Ivy's expression was gentle but firm. "You run this entire ranch, Maggie. You make everything work. But you're so busy making everyone else's dreams happen that you never advocate for your own. Someone had to."
I didn't have an answer for that. Mostly because she was right.
We sat in silence for a moment, watching the sun sink toward the hills. Then Ivy said, carefully casual, “So…Jack."
Every muscle in my body went tight again. "What about him?"
"Nothing. Just... he seems capable."
"He is.” In more ways than one, I almost added.
"Good with horses."
“Very." It made him even hotter.
"Easy on the eyes."
"I hadn't noticed."
Ivy snorted. "Maggie. I've seen you 'not notice' him about fifteen times today. You're not subtle."
Heat crawled up my neck, and I picked at my water bottle. “I don't know what you're talking about."
"Okay." Ivy stood, brushing off her jeans. "When you're ready to talk about whatever's actually going on, you know where to find me." She squeezed my shoulder. "And for what it's worth? I think he's 'not noticed' you, too.”
She walked away before I could formulate a response.
I sat behind the equipment shed until the sun finished setting, my mind spinning in circles that all led back to the same impossible place.
I locked up my cabin that night, feeling wrung out in ways that had nothing to do with physical work.
Through my window, I could see the bunkhouse in the distance. A light was on. Sully was lying on the porch, his dark shape barely visible in the moonlight.
I stood there for a long moment. Then I turned away from the window, sat down at my desk, and pulled up the horse breeding projections Ivy had apparently already shown my brother.
If Wyatt had seen the numbers, then the conversation was coming whether he was ready for it or not. And when it did, I was going to be so goddamn prepared he'd have no choice but to listen.
I opened my laptop and started working, not thinking about the light in the bunkhouse window.
Much.
5
