Page 47 of Awaiting the Storm
After he walks away, she leans back, eyes narrowing slightly. “All right, Galloway, we’re here. You got me out of my work boots and into town, so let’s hear it. What’s the real reason you wanted dinner?”
Straight to it. Okay.
I fold my hands on the table and hold her gaze. “I’ve got a proposal I want your family to consider. Ironhorse wants to purchase a thousand acres of the western tract. Ten percent over market. All-cash offer. We could close quickly—thirty days, maybe less.”
Her jaw tightens. “So, this is business.”
“It’s not just business.”
She exhales through her nose and crosses her arms. “Right.”
“Matty”—my voice softens—“look, I know how itsounds. But this isn’t some corporate land grab. This is us getting what we need to expand, and you getting more than a million-dollar buffer to help keep your ranch running. We’re not trying to swindle you or take anything that you’re not willing to give up. I’m offering you—offering Wildhaven Storm a lifeline.”
“You think I don’t know what a million dollars could do for us?” she asks. “I do. I’ve sat with the accountant. I’ve analyzed every utility bill, feed invoice, and vet bill that’s come across my desk. I know exactly how thin we’re stretched. But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to start carving up the ranch we’ve owned for generations and selling it off to the highest bidder.”
I nod slowly, absorbing her words. “I get that. I really do. But there’s a difference between selling out and doing what you have to do to make sure there’s something left to pass down to the next generation.”
Her lips part slightly. The flicker in her eyes tells me I struck a chord.
The waiter returns with our meals, and we both go quiet as the plates are set down. The food smells incredible—grilled fish, citrus, roasted herbs, fresh vegetables that look like they were picked this morning.
She stares at her plate. Her face blank.
“Matty?”
She looks up at me. “I assume you brought something in writing for me?” she says, her voice trembling.
“Yeah, but we can do this later. Let’s eat first.”
Tears well in her eyes, and my heart sinks.
“I’ve lost my appetite. I think I want to go home. I’ll take your proposal back to Wildhaven Storm and sit down with my grandparents and father.”
Fuck.
I set my fork down and reach for the folder I tucked under the table at my feet. She eyes it warily as I pass it across to her.
“Thank you,” she says as she starts to stand.
“Are you sure you can’t stay to eat?”
“I just want to go, Caison,” she says. Her voice cracking.
“I’ll have them wrap it up for you,” I say as I wave for the waiter.
“You take it home. Have a better lunch tomorrow,” she whispers, and before I can say another word, she turns and walks away.
Ididn’t even taste the food. I don’t know why I’d bothered getting all dressed up. This ridiculous denim dress looks like I’m heading to some honky-tonk date night instead of what this really was. A business meeting. That was what he had said it was going to be, more or less. That was what I agreed to. In fact, I was the one who kept insisting it wasn’t a date after all. I’d told Charli, Shelby, everyone who looked at me twice as I left the ranch that it wasn’t a damn date.
So, why does it feel like my heart just got stomped on?
I stare at the file folder in my hand. His words still echoing in my head—measured, considerate, honest. Too honest. The kind of honesty that makes it impossible to be angry with him. Which is worse than if he’d come in hot, swinging some greedy, highbrow lingo at me and trying to bulldoze right over me. That I could fight. That I would fight. But what do I do with this?
Holland Ludlow is offering a damn good deal. A more than fair price. Caison even made sure to acknowledge what Wildhaven Storm means to my family, to me. He said he didn’t want to take anything from us. Instead, he pointed out that parting with a little land just might make it possible to save the rest. To preserve our legacy so that there’s something left to pass down to future Storm generations.
And instead of being smart enough to see the opportunity for what it is and listening to him like a grown-up, all I feel is small.
Like I’ve failed. Like I’ve failed everyone.
