Page 13 of One Wild Chance

I return to James’s office, where he’s thumbing through a stack of papers. “I almost forgot to show you these.” He slides them across the desk. “I want you to know the full picture before you make any decisions about Lucky Chance.”

I study the top sheet. “Are these loan documents?”

“Yes,” James says with a nod. “The farm carries two point eight million dollars in outstanding debt, spread across three loans. The first is a standard operating line your father renewed annually, which is manageable. The second is for a stallion named Dakota Lightning.” He turns to the next page and points to a number. “Your father invested heavily in that young stallion four years ago. He financed six hundred and fifty thousand dollars of the purchase. His first yearlings sold at the Keeneland yearling sale last September, but it didn’t go well. The loan balance on that stallion is still just over five hundred thousand dollars.”

I stare at the numbers. I don’t know a lot about horses, but this kind of debt makes my stomach knot. Keeneland’s September yearling sale is the biggest sale of Lucky Chance’s year, and Dad’s stallion flopped. Nobody’s going to pay to breed to him now, and we’ve got two more of his crops coming up behind.

“The third one is what concerns me the most.” He pulls out the next page. “Your father made several broodmare purchases four years ago. He believed the thoroughbred market was climbing, but his timing was off. At the same time, your father bet heavily on Dakota Lightning. The plan was for his first crop to sell well enough to bolster the farm’s cash flow. If those yearlings had sold the way everyone hoped, we’d probably be having a different conversation. But that loan for the broodmares still carries a substantial balance and is structured as a balloon payment loan.”

I glance at James. “Meaning?”

“Your parents kept up with the monthly payments, but the full remaining balance comes due in one lump sum.” He adjusts his glasses as he skims the loan information. “If that balloon payment can’t be refinanced or paid by next summer, the bank can foreclose.”

“The broodmares?”

“No,” James says. “The farm. He bought the mares. The land is what he put up.”

I let out a sigh. “Will the bank work with us?”

“They’ve worked with your family for years. But now the bank will want new guarantees before they renew anything. Your parents signed personally. They’ll expect the same from whoever is running it.” He sets his glasses down. “That’s you now.”

“James, I don’t even have a plan yet.”

“Then I’d suggest working on one.” He tucks the papers inside a folder and closes it. “I’ve been your family’s attorney for a long time, and I don’t want to see the farm go to a bank. But there’s a reason Miriam and John left you in charge. You and your brothers need to decide what the future of Lucky Chance is.” Then he slides the folder to me. “Good luck.”

I head outside where Wyatt’s the only one left waiting. My phone chimes in my pocket, and a woman’s name I haven’t seen in years flits across the screen. I turn off my phone without opening it.

“Someone from South Carolina missing you already?” Wyatt teases.

I shoot him the same grin I’ve been using since I was seventeen. “Some of us still got it, Wyatt. Don’t be jealous.”

He shakes his head and holds out an apple that he snagged from James’s office. “Want one?”

I hold up a hand. “I’ll pass.”

He rubs it on his shirt. “Sorry, Jaxon. I know that wasn’t the news you were expecting.”

“Yeah, especially since James just showed me how much bad luck this farm’s had in the last few years.”

“What?” Wyatt’s brow furrows.

I hand him the folder with the loan documents. Wyatt looks them over, then whistles low. “This isn’t good.”

“Tell me about it,” I mutter. “I haven’t even made up my mind yet about staying.”

He stops and stares. “But I thought the trust stated⁠—”

“I know what it said,” I interrupt. “I’m supposed to be the manager-in-residence. It doesn’t say what that means.”

Wyatt hands me back the papers. “But how are you going to get out of it? I thought it was clear.”

“I asked James to take another look. Find a loophole. Maybe there’s something we missed.”

Wyatt raises an eyebrow. “You’re the only one here who doesn’t need a loophole.” He bites into the apple with a crunch. “The rest of us have to figure out how to do both.”

I know he didn’t mean it as a dig, but I wish I had a career to go back to. I wasn’t ready to retire, even though I knew, at thirty-two, my days were numbered.

I never let myself think about what came after hockey. It’s always been about winning for me, no matter what it took—and I’d do it again, just to watch my team make the playoffs.