Charles leaned forward on his desk. “That’s what I’d like to know.”
“How can I help? Have we done an audit?” He seemed so concerned, so genuine. It’d been easy to forget how snippy he’d been with me only days ago when I’d told him about this meeting. It was easy to forget a lot of things, actually.
“That’s our next step. I’ll make the call when I get back to the ranch.”
I tried to step past him, but he intercepted me. “Let me take that off your plate,” he said, gentling his tone. “I know you have so much going on with the clinics. Honestly, it’s a miracle you could get into town for this meeting.”
I opened my mouth to tell him no, that I could handle it, but Charles spoke first. “It has to come from the client, Ellis. You know that.”
He turned to his father. “Of course, I know that, but sometimes these auditors try to give you the runaround. The investigations are so time-consuming, and a lot of work is involved. I wouldn’t want them to take advantage of you.”
“I think I’m capable of a phone call, Ellis. And isn’t that their job?” I asked, feeling the skin along my palms tighten. “I don’t care how long it takes. I want to know where my money is.”
“Of course you do, and we’ll find it.” He reached out and grasped my hand, stroking the top of it lightly. I hated the sensation, especially when my anxiety was rising. Everything felt wrong against my skin; it felt like I was growing while everything else was shrinking. “Do you have time for lunch?” He checked his watch, completely unfazed. “Or brunch, I suppose. We can go to that little cafe you like. The one with the bottomless mimosas.”
I stared at him with a hammering heart, wondering howsomeone could be so insensitive. He hated brunch, hated the bottomless mimosas. In fact, on the rare occasion he agreed to go, he’d make little comments about the kind of people who drink before noon. “Over a quarter of a million dollars is missing from my family’s accounts and you want to go tobrunch?”
“My treat,” he added, as though that was a selling point.
When my phone rang again, I took it as my out. “As tempting as that is, I better get back to the ranch. After all, I have to break the news to my father that you lost a shit ton of his money.”
lincoln
. . .
“You headed out for the night?”I called, leaning over the stall door as Bishop walked by. It was Friday, and we were five days into the first clinic. I’d had a rough start to my morning, and spending it with yearlings who’d only been haltered a handful of times hadn’t helped.
Neither had getting my ass thrown to the ground multiple times after some dipshit refused to listen when I told him to give his horse some slack on the lead rope. Instead, he’d tried to force his horse into submission, causing it to break away from him and give me one hell of a chase.
When we headed out for lunch, I’d gone straight to Bishop and told him that horse was one to watch. He had too much spirit to be stuck with someone who didn’t appreciate it.
He nodded but pulled a beer from the small cooler. He’d removed his chaps and spurs, leaving only a dusty t-shirt and Wranglers. “Got dinner waiting on me, but I saw your little bronc shower earlier,” he said, chuckling. “Thought you might need it more than I do.”
“You won’t find me saying no.” I didn’t know what it was about a beer at the end of a long day, but goddamn, I felt the day’s stress melt away. “What a fucking week. Is it always like this?”
“Naw, but to be fair, this is the first year Doug’s divvied it up like this. He normally alternates the clinics, focusing on the newbies first and then switching to riders with more experience.” He gestured around the barn. “I’ve never seen the stalls this full. There’s a lot of excitement in the air, and the horses can sense that shit. Especially if their owners don’t know what the hell they’re doing.”
Patience had never been my strong suit. I’d sworn that if I could just make it through the day, I’d get myself and my attitude back on track next week.
Since I was new, Doug had put me in charge of the beginners. Most of these folk didn’t know their ass from their elbow, but I rated anyone willing to put their pride aside and do what was best for their animals pretty damn high.
It’d been so long since I’d trained anyone on anything that I was glad he hadn’t tossed me in the deep end. The seminars Doug ran were rare. No one had done what he’d done at this scale. Ranches across the country usually held three to four-day seminars throughout the year that focused on the basics of horsemanship, while others in the business focused on boarding and training the animal rather than teaching the owners how to do it.
While Doug did all of this throughout the year on the standard industry scale, he’d also seen an opportunity for an in-depth training program that went above and beyond what could be taught in three days. He saw the importance of focusing on the connection between a horse and its rider, how they could shape one another and form a truly remarkable bond.
I shook my head. “Fucking idiots, I swear.”
Bishop smiled and patted me on the back. “Yeah, but it’s yourjob to turn those idiots into bonafide cowboys. First week’s done, at least.”
“Thank fuck for that. I’m out of practice.”
“Don’t go all sappy on me, but you’ve done good—much better than I’d have done.”
I waggled my brows. “Bishop Bryant, is that a compliment?”
“Fuck off,” he muttered. “Shouldn’t have said a damn word. I take it back, you’re shit.”
I pointed my can in his direction. “There’s the grump I’ve come to know over the past week.”
