Page 14 of A Cowboy to Call Her Own

“Your dad told me that he finally had a rare colt who could cement his place in the racing history books and guarantee his legacy for generations to come,” Big E said.

“So, Walter drugs Pride to ensure his horse wins the Triple Laurel Legacy Circuit,” Asher said, testing out the theory. “All to make history.”

“Don’t forget. Winning all three races in the Triple Laurel would have been the first for any horse in Gold Finch,” Big E explained. “The town, and more specifically Blackwell Stables, would have been put on the map and no doubt gained national recognition.”

“And gained more influential clients,” Asher mused. And those types of clients translated to higher training and boarding fees and more income for the stables. That brought them right back around to the financials. Asher added, “If my father needed money for the business, winning the Triple Laurel would have ensured it.”

Big E frowned and nodded. “This is where you find out if the business was in some sort of financial crisis that only Walter knew about.”

Asher winced, unsure if he wanted to believe his father would intentionally dope his own horse rather than ask one of his sons for help. Asher had the financial means, yet would he have even taken his dad’s phone call?

He pushed away from the fence post and that answer then rounded on Big E and asked, “Why me? I’m a Blackwell in name only according to Walter.”

“According to your father’s legal documents, you’re a stakeholder and a shareholder with a board seat in Blackwell Stables, Inc,” Big E explained further. “You and your brothers own equal shares.”

But his father disowned him all those years ago. Asher had not misunderstood those harsh words. Asher gaped at the older cowboy. “That’s not possible.”

“I’ve got all the legal paperwork at the house,” Big E said. “You can read it over yourself.”

Asher widened his stance and steadied himself.

“You should know it’s already been fully vetted by Walter’s attorney,” Big E continued. “It is legal, binding and correct.”

Asher was stunned. “Do my brothers know?”

“I don’t know what Walter told them about his will or the business ownership.” Big E hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and considered Asher. “You were the first of Walter’s sons I contacted.”

Asher nodded.

Big E pushed away from the fence and said, “Now might be time to reach out to your brothers yourself and start those sorts of conversations.”

Asher agreed yet said, “I’m going to hold off until we know more.”

“Even if Walter is guilty, there is still a legacy to save here,” Big E stated. “One that goes beyond just your dad.”

Saving a legacy was one thing. It was ensuring the legacy continued—the looking after the legacy day in and day out—that worried Asher. “We get the stable’s reputation back and then what happens? My life is in New York. Yours is in Montana. Not to mention my brothers all have lives—good, successful ones outside of Gold Finch, too.”

“There’s no sense getting ahead of ourselves.” Big E adjusted his cowboy hat on his head and continued, “Like you said, we need more information before we can decide on a proper direction.”

“Sounds like I need to get to work on those financials as soon as possible.”

“You let me know how I can help.”

“A take-out menu or two would do.” Asher grinned and added, “The staff will need dinner soon.” Because no matter what, the racehorses were the very core of the Blackwell legacy in Kentucky. The stables needed to stay up and running and that required a happy staff.

Big E chuckled. “I think I’ll head back and hunt down those menus.”

“I’ll see you later at the house,” Asher said and hopped over the fence into the pasture. “I’m going to introduce myself to this trio that’s been watching us very closely.”

And he was going to take a moment to clear his head.Again.

He was a shareholder. Not disowned as he long believed. A surprise to be sure yet not the biggest one.

He had a true place at Blackwell Stables all this time. No reason to keep standing on his own.

And there it was. The biggest surprise yet. He wasn’t certain if he was more happy or mad about that.

Because despite it all, he made his own way. Cut his own path. And cowboys like him didn’t shift easy—not for new boots. Not for anyone.