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“Well then damn, we buy the land and turn it into more stables. Expand the quarter-horse outfit. Or more pastures.”
Mason shook his head. As the ranch manager, he knew the money better than me. He dealt with the ins and outs of the accounting on a daily basis. I appointed him manager because he was good at it. But right now, I was frustrated he couldn't see my point.
“Gray, I know you're stressed about net profits. And yeah, things are tight. But we're doin' okay. I think it'd be risky to jump into buying more land without a solid plan.”
“Yeah, we're doin' okay. My father never did okay. He did great. He expanded this place and made it one of the best horse ranches in the state. Which is exactly why we need to grow. I can't just take what he gave me and keep it afloat, barely treading water.” I stopped pacing and faced him squarely. “It's not just about the risk, it's about thriving. Red Downs has to thrive.”
Mason sighed. “I know you've got the ranch's best interests at heart, but what about your own peace of mind? You can't keep burning the candle at both ends.”
“Peace of mind won't pay the bills.” I dropped back into my chair with a thud, the leather creaking under my weight. “The Culver plot is fertile, prime grazing land. It borders the creek, too—water rights alone are worth it.”
“Gray, when was the last time you took a damn day off? Sat down, had a beer without worrying about tomorrow's problems?” Mason leaned over the desk, his gray eyes earnest. “You need balance, man.”
“Balance is a luxury I can't afford,” I shot back, my insides twisting. “You think I enjoy being cooped up in here? I'd rather be out there,” I gestured toward the window, “in the thick of it. But this . . .” I tapped the ledger, “this is what keeps us running.”
“Which is why you hired me to handle the bulk of that work.” Mason straightened up, his gaze unwavering. “We'll discuss the Culver plot with Walker, see what he thinks.”
“Fine.” I relented, only because I knew it wouldn't end here. Another meeting, more discussions—it wasn't the land that was hard to manage; it was the damned people.
“Alright, I'll set it up for tomorrow.” Mason turned to leave, then paused. “And Gray?”
“Yeah?”
“Take a breath, will ya? For all our sake.”
“Fuck off,” I said, though a smirk snuck out. Mason gave me a mock salute as he walked off.
2
Eryn
“What the hell is that?”
“Obviously, it’s a cowboy hat. Or a cowgirl hat, rather.” My friend Skylar pursed her lips and teased. “Eryn, did you honestly expect me to not dress for the occasion?”
My eyes scanned over Skylar’s outfit, the overpriced designer jeans, the Swarovski crystal belt buckle, the red plaid button-down, the stiff hat sitting a bit too high atop her dirty blonde head. She looked like the epitome of Hollywood Gone Western. Which was exactly what she was.
My face crinkled. “It’s a little much, don’t you think?”
She shrugged, batting a hand in my direction. “I wanted to blend in with the locals.”
“I somehow doubt the locals of Montana wear patent leather cowboy boots and eight-hundred dollar denim.”
“Hey, don’t make assumptions. Maybe that’s exactly what they wear.”
I felt the incredulity slip over my face. “Sky.”
“Okay, fine. I’ve always wanted to play a cowgirl and never got the opportunity. Jen Lawrence beat me out on the lead in that western last year. You know how bummed I was.”
“Yes, you had to go to therapy three extra times that week,” drawled Enzo in his smooth Italian accent as he approached us.
“Ha, I remember that. It was dark days,” Zaya said, elbowing Enzo with a giggle. Zaya was more appropriately dressed in jeans and an orange sweater that reminded me of the sunset and complimented her dark skin. She looked casual, but I’d wager she spent a pretty penny on it, too.
My friends were not thrifty.
“I would have gone shopping with you at an appropriate store if you’d asked,” I said to Skylar.
“I did pack some normal things.” She cringed. “At least, I think they’re normal. I don’t know, my assistant picked them out. But I wanted to make a splash on our first day there.”
