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Ignoring my throbbing erection, I rolled out of bed and checked my phone. Messages lined the screen. Reminders about calls and appointments. One from my youngest brother, Eliot, stood out. He managed the Knight’s Arabians and Cattle Company portion of the family businesses.
What the hell? No indoor riding ring?
I groaned. When I took over the books for my dad’s company, I thought it’d be a fairly easy financial stream. I’d run the numbers, tell Barns and Eliot what could and couldn’t be done, collect my paycheck, and concentrate on Knight’s Oil Wells, the real moneymaker.
Knight’s Arabians and Cattle Company turned out to be a drain on my time and energy, and the money was a damn mess. It’d taken years to untangle the chaos the first accountant had made when he’d done nothing but acquiesce to whatever Barns had demanded, funnel a little money into his own account, and leave us with back taxes and penalties.
Work was enough to reroute blood back to my brain. I tossed on a plain white polo and a pair of gray slacks before I trudged down the hallway and peeked into Grayson’s bedroom and then Ivy’s. They were both asleep, but it was early yet—and they were early risers.
Rubbing my eyes, I went back to the bedroom and called Eliot, bracing myself for his constant crankiness.
“Why not?” he answered. “Don’t you think after being in business for fifty years, the company can afford to keep us from freezing our asses off while we train the horses?”
I took an even breath. I’d been one of those guys freezing his ass off working horses and cattle. An indoor ring would’ve been the ultimate pampering.
I don’t breed pussies, Barns had muttered.
“If those first fifty years had been run correctly,” I answered patiently, “then yes, the company could afford to build.”
“Can’t we use oil money?” Frustration rang in his voice.
“It’s not that easy, and oil’s been down for years.”
“What’s it good for, then?”
We’d had this conversation already. It was as constant as quarterly taxes. “Keeping our doors open for another fifty years. Look, Eliot. The economy is shit. Barns tied up the money in the trust to pay us until we can retire, and if we want money until we retire, then we can’t just build whatever we want when we want it.”
“I’m not being greedy, and you know it.”
“I do know it.Youcan build the indoor riding ring—Knight’s Arabians and Cattle Company can’t.”
“I’d have to take out a loan because, like you, I only get our inheritance one year at a time and only if I’m working for this broken-down company.” His frustration matched mine.
If we wanted any of the money Barns had squirreled away, we had to work for the company until we retired. In doing so, we had to clean up the mess he had made. I was living with my own issues resulting from the living trust Barns had created. Eliot was living with his.
My ass wasn’t working with horses when it was twenty below zero anymore. Eliot had fought with Barns more than I had about upgrades around the ranch, improving processes, and making a more efficient company. But just because Barns was gone didn’t mean we could dive in. Damage had been done for years to the bottom line.
“We can go over the accounts again,” I said evenly, “but you know how tied my hands are. Cattle prices are shit, gas still isn’t cheap, interest rates have skyrocketed, the horses aren’t selling like they used to, and the oil boom has nearly busted. I need more time to figure out how best to do this.”
“There’s gotta be grants or something.”
“Look into it.”
“I’m not the accountant. I’m actually breaking a sweat.”
I ground my teeth together. Whenever we argued, he tossed it in my face that I wasn’t working the ranch like I used to. He did the same with our other brother, Austen, who’d joined the army after high school. Wilder was exempt since he’d never quit helping while working around his job as a deputy. Maybe he should’ve backed off more, or he wouldn’t be going through a divorce. Eliot left our sister, Aggie, alone, and she’d been the one who wanted to work just like him, only she hadn’t been encouraged. Barns had taken his anger toward our mother out on her by ignoring her presence.
Eliot wasn’t going to listen. He was pissed at our dad, but Barns wasn’t around to be a target. I was.
Ivy sprinted into my bedroom and flung herself on the bed to burrow beneath the covers.
“I’ll do some checking,” I said. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Of course you do.”
“We’re not opponents, Eliot. My hands are tied almost as much as yours.”
“I can’t run to another state and take a summer vacation.”
