"Yeah."
"There's a property for sale. About an hour north of where you are now. Forty acres, existing barn and arena, owner's motivated." Bill's voice changed, became more focused. "It's the kind of setup where you could build a real business. Train horses, maybe breed a few, work with young riders trying to break into the circuit. Use everything you know without risking your neck every weekend."
Dustin's pulse kicked up. "What's the catch?"
"No catch. But you'd need to move on it soon. Owner's got another interested party, and I've only been able to stall them because I told them I had a buyer lined up."
"Bill, I don't have that kind of money saved up."
"I know. But I do, and I'm looking to invest in the right person. Someone who knows the business, has the skills, and won't piss away my money on stupid decisions." Bill exhaled, and Dustin could picture him leaning back in his office chair, cigarette dangling. "That's you, if you want it. Sixty-forty partnership. I front the money, you run the operation."
The offer hung in the air, too good to be real. Too perfect. "Why?"
"Because I'm getting old, and I'm tired of watching talented riders get crippled chasing prize money. Because you're one of the few in this business I actually trust. And because I've made enough money off you over the years that I owe you a shot at something better."
Dustin's throat tightened. "I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll think about it. I need an answer by end of week, but that gives you some time to figure out what you want."
After Bill hung up, Dustin sat on the edge of his bed holding his phone, trying to process what had just happened. A way to stay in the horse business. A partnership with someone he trusted. A future that didn't involve broken bones and motel rooms.
A future close enough to build with Vanessa.
His door was still closed, but he could hear her in the hallway. Could picture her standing there, probably debating whether to knock or just leave for her interviews without saying goodbye.
He couldn't let her leave like this. Not without telling her everything.
He opened the door. She was indeed standing in the hallway, dressed in another business suit, car keys in hand. But she wasn't moving toward the front door. She was just standing there, staring at his door like she'd been trying to work up the courage to knock.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey." She looked exhausted. Beautiful, but exhausted. "I was just..."
"I know." He stepped into the hallway. "Don't go yet. We need to talk."
"Dustin, I can't do this right now. I can't have the goodbye conversation before my interviews. I'll fall apart."
"It's not a goodbye conversation."
Hope flared in her eyes before she crushed it down. "Don't. Please don't give me hope if you're leaving anyway."
"What if I told you I'm not going to Oklahoma?"
She stared at him. "What?"
"Bill called. He's offering me a partnership on a training facility. Forty acres about an hour from here. Barn, arena, everything I'd need to work with horses without getting my spine crushed every weekend."
"Dustin." Her voice was barely audible. "That's... that's incredible."
"It would mean staying here and being the kind of man who can actually promise you a future." He moved closer, drawn by the way she looked at him. "If you'd want that."
"Of course I'd want that. But..." She hesitated. "Are you sure? Because if you're only staying because you think it's what I need, that's not going to work. You'll resent me eventually."
"I'm not staying because I think it's what you need. I'm staying because it's what I want." He took her face in his hands. "I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to build something with you. I want a life that doesn't fit in a duffel bag."
"You love rodeo."
"I did. But I love you more." The words came out easier than he'd expected. Natural. True. "And I'm tired of running. I’m tired of convincing myself that moving every few months is freedom when really it's just fear."
