Page 43 of Awaiting the Storm
“And you think you’re an expert on who is my type?”
He flinches, but recovers quickly. “I know he doesn’t belong here. He’s not one of us.”
“There is no us, Carl. Not anymore,” I snap, feeling defensive.
“I don’t trust him, Matty. He’s playing a game. He’s got ulterior motives. Can’t you see that?”
I fold my arms. “And you don’t?”
He steps closer, eyes pleading now. “I was an idiot to leave. I know that now. I admit it. But I’m back now. I came back for you. For this ranch. To try and get back what we had. No ulterior motive, just a clear one.”
“That’s the thing, Carl. It’s what we had. Past tense.”
“You’re scared,” he says. “I get that. I deserve for you to rake me over the coals.”
“You’re right. I’m scared. Scared of making the same mistake twice.”
His shoulders sag. “You think I don’t know I screwed up? But if you just give me a second chance, I swear I’ll prove it to you. You’ll see I’m sincere.”
I look down at my boots.
“Please, Matty. We can be good again.”
“I need time,” I whisper. “Space.”
He exhales, defeated. “I can give you that. But I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here, waiting. However long it takes.”
And with that, he walks away, leaving me standing here. Caught between the familiarity and comfort of what used to be and the uncertainty of whatever the hell is waiting for me tomorrow night.
The numbers line up on the spreadsheet that’s opened across my screen—columns of acreage, projected earnings, and comparative comps for land across the valley. I’ve run the calculations a dozen times, but I double-check them once more. Then again. Because this isn’t a normal deal. This isn’t just about expansion or strategic acquisition.
This is about Wildhaven Storm Ranch.
And Matty Storm.
I lean back in the chair and run a hand across my jaw, feeling the scratch of the stubble there.
I rode to Jackson Hole after leaving Wildhaven Storm yesterday. I had dinner with Mom and spent the night in my old bedroom. I didn’t get much sleep though, and I didn’t have a chance to run a razor over my face this morning before heading back here.
I stare at the figures on the screen. One thousand acres, sectioned off, along the western edge of their property line. Prime terrain—accessible, flat, with a natural water source, and adjacent to Ironhorse. The land would give us the space we need to build a second arena, offer new training programs, and expand our breeding operation. It’s good land. Really good land.
But more than that, it’s a lifeline for Wildhaven Storm.
I know they’re drowning. Holland’s contact at the bank sent detailed notes about their predicament. And if the price was right, he’d even be willing to tighten the vise around Matty’s neck and call in the debt they owe. It’s shady. It’s not the way I like to conduct business and told him and Holland as much. But it’s not an uncommon practice. It’s thegood ol’ boy,you scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yoursway of doing back-door business. Big fish greasing each other’s pockets.
The problem is, it’s all true. And the Storms are very aware of the precarious position they’re in. The awareness is in the way Albert speaks carefully, the way Matty tenses when money is mentioned, the way Giles looked me square in the eye and said they were barely staying afloat.
So, I sweeten the deal.
Ten percent over market value. All-cash offer. Immediate close.
A clean, no-hassle transaction that would put just over a million dollars into their account in less than thirty days. A life raft that could keep them from drowning.
I know Matty’s proud, and I know she’s stubborn. I’ve seen it. But she’s not a fool. She loves that land, but she loves her family more. She’ll see the logic in this. See that this is the answer to all of the ranch’s cash flow problems.
She has to.
I finish drafting the final page of the proposal and hit print. The hum of the printer is oddly satisfying. I pluck the pages from the tray and smooth them out on my desk. I read through everything once more, making sure everyIis dotted and everyTcrossed. Ensuring that the wording is the right balance between logical and respectful.
