Her gaze lifts to me.
There's a question in it she doesn't say out loud.
I see it anyway.
I look away.
"Just let me try," I say, desperation creeping in. "We can train the colt. Get Addie to ride. If people see we're producing show horses again, if they see we have riders and talent here, maybe the boarders will come back. Maybe the money will follow."
Mae studies me for a long moment.
Then she nods.
"All right," she says quietly. "Let's see what you've got."
I don't wait for anything else.
I turn and run for the barn, boots hitting the floor hard, heart pounding with something that feels dangerously close to hope.
If I'm going to save this ranch, I can't do it alone.
I need Eli.
Not just as foreman. As partner.
The way it should have been from the start.
Chapter nineteen
Hazel
Icut across the yard instead of going around it.
The late afternoon sun sits low over the barns, spilling gold across the packed dirt and catching in the dust that hangs in the air. Somewhere near the back fence a horse snorts, the sound lazy and familiar. The ranch looks almost peaceful, which feels like a lie.
My mind is already racing ahead of my steps, lining up what I need to say. If I'm going to save this place, I have to start now. The colt is green but promising. Addie has the seat for it, the patience too. The Copper Ridge Fall Classic is four weeks out—trail class division, or ranch horse if we can get him solid enough. The first show that really matters before winter sets in.
Four weeks isn't much time, but if we can get the colt ready, if Addie can put in a clean ride, people will notice. Word spreads.Boarders might come back. It's not a magic fix, but it's a starting point.
And then what?
The question sits in my chest, uncomfortable and unavoidable.
I don't know. I honestly don't know.
Part of me wants to stay here, rebuild what Dad built, prove I can do this. Another part keeps thinking about Denver, the career I worked so hard for, the life I built there. Five years of climbing, learning, becoming someone who isn't just John Clark's daughter.
I can't just throw that away.
Can I?
Eli will understand. He has to. Once I explain the plan, show him it could work, he'll see I'm trying. That has to count for something.
I cross the space between the house and the barn at a quick pace, boots kicking up small clouds of dust. As I draw closer, I hear the steady rush of water from around the back side, rhythmic and loud against the quiet of the afternoon.
Watering the horses, I assume.
I round the corner of the barn—
