“Because…?” he invited me to explain myself further.
I looked ahead on the trail, stalling, but he’d asked me outright and deserved an answer. “Because he was the last horse my dad bred before he died.” I couldn’t part with Twister for several reasons, but that was the primary one. I had other things that reminded me of my father—his ranch land, for one, since my mother hadn’t been interested in keeping the place going after losing her husband and had signed the property over to me. ButI used it for my vet practice, not to keep the ranching tradition going. Twister was all I had left from that.
Jake nodded, looking serious. “I get that. It was tough for me to sell the last horses Dad and Luke bred, but I knew they’d want me to,” he said. “It’s a business, and I’m trying to run it with their vision for it in mind.”
We started up the trail, navigating around boulders before I spoke again. “I’m not running my ranch the way my dad would have wanted. He loved having a self-supporting horse operation. But that isn’t realistic for me. My vet practice is my first priority and first love.”
“So sell me the horse and focus on being a vet.”
I laughed at his obvious ploy. “I’m capable of managing two things, and there are advantages to being a vet with stud rights for sale. I’m hoping those fees will turn into a good revenue stream to help support my vet practice. I can reach clients all over the country or even internationally through artificial insemination. My dad would never have considered that, but I believe there’s more than one way to run my ranch. I have a different skill set than my father did, so my options are different.”
“I don’t see it that way. There’soneway to do this right.” His tone started to become defensive.
“And that involves owning a stallion?” I questioned.
“It does. That’s the way Dad taught me to run a ranch and it’s what Luke had planned for the future of the place. I took a detour from the plan, tried to put my own spin on things, but I can’t do that any longer. Not when it’s clear that I’ve put the ranch’s prospects in danger. I should have invested in a betterstallion from the beginning. So buying the best possible stallion is a must for me, as soon as possible. If you won’t sell me Twister, I’ll go on the hunt for one elsewhere.”
He’d have a tough time finding one equal to Twister, but I didn’t need to say it since we both knew that fact. “I don’t get it,” I said instead. “I understand that you want to improve your stock. I understand that you think Twister is the stud that can get you there—and I agree—but I’m offering you Twister for stud purposes, which is all you need from him. Why turn it down? You’ve told me why you think buying him would be good forme,but not why it’s necessary for you, other than to say that that’s your plan.”
“Itismy plan,” he agreed. “And I’m going to stick with it.” He turned and faced me. The moment should have been tense, but strangely it wasn’t.
“I guess we’re both set in our decisions,” I said, recognizing that there was no common ground between us. “And maybe we should leave it at that.” We’d discussed the topic during the seven miles to the highest point on the trail. I’d enjoyed verbally sparring with him, but we were at an impasse about Twister. “I propose we end this fruitless negotiation and just enjoy the hike.”
“On that we can agree,” he said. “It’s too beautiful up here to worry about anything.”
We scrambled up on top of a boulder to get the best view of the surrounding land. Eagle Nest Trail led to the highest point in the county, giving us a bird’s-eye view of the Colorado landscape. Parts of the terrain were rocky, others forest-covered. At a distance, we could see the rich pastures of grazing land that made this part of the state ideal for raising cattle and horses. Itwas one of my favorite views. As soon as I finished veterinary school and returned home, I’d hiked the trail to see it.
“I used to come up here with my dad,” I said. “It was our way of spending time together, doing something we both loved.”
“What about your mom?” Jake pushed his hat back on his head.
“She’s a city girl at heart. She tolerated living on the ranch because she and Dad were so in love, but after he died, she had no interest in being so far from what she calls civilization.” From the time I was a little girl, I had known that I was more like my dad than my mom.
“How does she define that?” he asked.
“Access to the arts and shopping. Sidewalks, a Starbuck’s on every corner. That sort of stuff. I like to visit her, have a mocha, shop for clothes that I’m unlikely to ever wear, but my heart’s out here, same as my dad’s was. Hiking here always makes me think of him.”
“That’s true for me, too, with my dad,” Jake said, surprising me. “It was usually all three of us boys with him, but twice I can remember coming here, just him and me. He tried to do that, spend time with us individually.”
“That seems wise of him,” I said, wondering what it would have been like to share my parents’ attention. Having a sibling looked both challenging and rewarding. Jake and Brian were close. So was my friend Sofia with her older brother, Rafael. I was a little jealous of that. They always knew someone had their backs. Since I was little, I’d had good friends—both human and animal—who filled that role for me, too, but it wasn’t quite the same.
“Hewaswise. More than I realized while he was alive.” Jake was turned in the opposite direction from me, but he suddenly reached out and touched my arm. “Look to the east.”
I spun around to see the angry roil of black clouds that could form so quickly this time of year. We both knew the storm would come on fast. “We better head back,” I said automatically, even as I frowned, calculating how long that would take us.
“We won’t make it,” he said, apparently finishing his own calculations.
“Probably not, but at least we’ll be down from the highest point.” I sat on my butt and scooted off the high boulder. He jumped to the ground, a grin on his face, and held his hand out to help me the rest of the way down. I shook my head, but I was glad to see his relaxed, teasing expression. We’d shared something poignant about our fathers standing up on that rock, and it felt like an unexpected bond had formed.
We hustled down the trail, slipping on loose stones. The rain and wind hit hard before we’d gone two miles. We were pelted with huge drops and lightning was putting on a show I might have enjoyed from inside my house. Out here, where I was a potential target, not so much.
“Careful here,” I heard Jake shout over the storm. The next section of trail was narrow as it worked along a cliff face. The ground, hard-packed from the baking sun, wasn’t allowing the water to seep in, so it was running off in muddy rivulets, making the trail dangerously slippery underfoot.
Jake was just ahead of me, so I saw the second it happened. He started to slide, arms flailing, seeking purchase, but there was nothing for him to grab hold of—just the rocky cliff face or theopen air of a forty-foot drop. Instinct driving me, I grabbed for his arm and yanked him back hard against me. We both fell backward but stayed on the narrow trail ledge.
“Whoa, that was close,” he said. He’d fallen partially on me, and we were both panting with exertion and adrenaline. “We can’t stay out in this.” He scrambled to his feet and reached for my hand, pulling me up. “There’s a cabin not far from here, belongs to Doc Murphy. Let’s head there.”
I didn’t argue. If anything, I was relieved to have somewhere to go, since the wind was increasing by the minute. “How far?”
