"The colt." His jaw sets, stubborn. "We keep working him. Keep Addie riding. Maybe something changes. Maybe we find the money. Maybe—" He stops. Shakes his head. "I don't know. But we've got four weeks. Giving up now doesn't help anything."
"But if we can't pay—"
"Then we can't pay," he cuts in, voice harder now. "But at least we'll have done the work. At least we'll know we tried everything."
There's something in his tone that makes my chest tight. Not hope exactly. More like refusal to surrender.
"So we just... keep going?" I ask quietly.
"We keep going." He holds my gaze. "Until we can't anymore."
I want to tell him I can fix this. Want to say I have the money.
But the words stick.
"Mae said Cole called again," I say instead.
Something flickers across his expression. "When?"
"Yesterday. She didn't tell us." I wrap my arms around myself even though the day is warm. "He gave her six weeks."
Eli goes still. "Six weeks."
"Yeah."
For a long moment, neither of us speaks.
The wind picks up, rattling through the grass, carrying the smell of dust and sun-baked earth. Somewhere in the distance, a horse whinnies.
"Then we've got four weeks to figure this out," Eli says finally. His voice is steady. Controlled. "Four weeks to train. To get Addie ready. To find the money or find another way."
"And if we can't?"
"Then at least Mae will know we tried." He looks at me, something fierce behind the exhaustion in his eyes. "At least she'll know we didn't just hand it over without a fight."
My throat tightens.
"Okay," I manage.
"Okay?"
"Yeah." I nod. "We keep training."
Something eases in his expression. Not relief. Just acknowledgment.
"Four a.m. tomorrow?" he asks.
"I'll be there."
He nods once, sharp and final. Then turns back to the fence.
I stand there for another moment, watching him crouch down again, hands moving over wire with practiced efficiency.
But this time it doesn't feel like dismissal.
It feels like a promise.
We're not giving up.
