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Beth rubbed her hands together. “How many riders could we take?”
“How big was that grant?”
She groaned. Swallowed. “Ten thousand. And this would have been year four, so it’s this year and next year. Plus a pad for the following year, really.”
Grayson didn’t quite keep a poker face. His mouth dropped open. “Oh, ouch.”
“You see, I’m not being dramatic—if I don’t fix this, the entire camp will be in jeopardy. Keeping these horses is expensive.”
Grayson rubbed his chin. “The camp has, what? Around twenty-seven horses?”
She nodded.
“I’d have to make sure enough of them could pack.” He adjusted his hat. “I think we could pull it off. We could take fifteen to twenty riders.”
We.That little word blossomed in her chest, filling her with the kind of hope she’d never thought possible. “You’d do that—help me fix this?”
“Of course. I mean, my boss has to approve it.” He laughed and gave her another wink.
Boss?
He took off Remington’s halter and put the bridle on. “Noah has to approve it.”
Beth froze. “I was hoping my catastrophic failure could be fixed without him knowing.”
He ran his hands over the bridle, then cinch, making sure all his tack was ready. “You haven’t told Noah?” He met her gaze over the top of his horse.
She shrugged. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.”
Grayson picked up his lariat, flipping it with each pull so it coiled perfectly in his hand. “You have to tell him—he has to approve it. Pretty sure he’ll notice most of the horses being gone.” He looped the lariat around the saddle horn. “Not to mention when the majority of the family camp families disappear. You don’t want the Crisis Response Team crashing the ride.”
“Well, he’ll miss the ten grand too.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’ve got hay coming in to pay for. And the farrier. And vetting.” She frowned. “Salary.”
He rubbed Remington’s nose.
“I’m going to lose my shot at this job. Then what? My future is riding on this.”
“You won’t lose your job.” Remington leaned into Grayson’s hand as if to ask for a harder rub. “Let’s figure this out—the better we have the details lined up, the more likely it is that Noah will sign off on it.”
“We could run it at the end of June with family camp. Head out on Friday.” Beth watched him work. “If you’ll still be here.”
“Sure,” he answered. “That’s family camp?”
“Yeah, that’s right—there’s no regular youth horse camp the first week of July.” She wanted to revisit theSurepart.
“We could do a Sunday morning cowboy church.” He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.
“You gonna preach?”
“Okay, we can skip it. Or we get Noah to come out.” He swung into the saddle. Winked. “We can do this, Beth. I think it’s a good plan.”
“You’re the best.”
He tipped his hat, a big grin slapped across his face. “How about you help me replace that wood bench this afternoon?”
Oh. “I can do that.” Her heart fluttered a beat.
Because together, they might just pull off saving the camp.
