Page 45 of One Wild Chance

There’s the boy who used to charm every girl in school.

“It’s a no,” I murmur, my gaze lowering.

A strange feeling curls in my middle—not our usual heated rivalry, but something softer and wilder.

“Jaxon.” I clear my throat. “I know you didn’t come over here to flirt.”

His grin falls slightly. “I’m not…”

“I need you to be honest with me,” I interrupt, shifting toward him. “Is there something wrong with the farm? Hank mentioned something, and I need to know that if I stay, I won’t lose my job.”

Jaxon settles on the stool next to me. “We’re in financial trouble.”

“What?” I ask. “I thought the farm was doing okay.”

He exhales. “Dad made a couple of poor investments. And then we had our farm manager embezzling money on top of that. Between the two, let’s just say it’s not good.”

The news sucks the oxygen from my lungs. “I knew something was up with that farm manager when Earl came out of retirement. But I didn’t know the rest.” I rub my finger along the lip of my glass. “How much did we lose?”

“Bad enough that in the last year, Mom wasn’t taking an income from the farm. She was putting everything back in just to keep the bank from getting involved.”

“She paid me, though,” I say slowly, “and you’re saying she couldn’t afford to pay herself?”

“I’m afraid so.”

I stare at the shiny bar top. Miriam knew about my mother’s condition and the memory care facility. I’d confided all of my money problems in her, and she kept paying me out of her own pocket, without saying a single word about her own debt.

Tears spring to my eyes, and I blink them back before Jaxon notices. “I can’t believe she did that.”

“She did the same for everyone who worked at Lucky Chance. She believed in following through on her word.”

“What are you going to do about the debt?”

“My brothers and I are putting together a plan before they head out of town. Problem is, horses aren’t a quick turnaround. So I’m open to ideas—” He glances sideways at me. “If you have any.”

“Me?” I wasn’t expecting him to ask. “What makes you think I have ideas?”

“Summer,” he says, facing me. “You have never once in your life shied away from telling me what you think.”

“Bold move, trying blunt honesty,” I say around a laugh.

He shrugs. “If it works…”

“It didn’t,” I say, giving it right back. “That was about a four out of ten for effort.”

He offers one of his usual grins—the kind that’s highly effective on most women. “What would a ten look like, then?”

“Oh, I think you know.”

His smile falls. “I’m not begging, Summer.”

“Didn’t say you had to.” I draw the glass to my lips. “But groveling would be nice.”

He stares at me to see if I’m joking, but I’m not.

“Then I’ll do it.” He turns to face me fully and takes a deep breath. “Summer, I’m asking you to please help Lucky Chance.”

I wave for him to continue.