Chapter 6 Jesse #2
Whitaker stepped inside, nodding politely to all of us. “Good afternoon, folks.” His eyes landed on me, taking in my disheveled appearance with barely concealed amusement. “I see you’re getting reacquainted with ranch life, Mr. Harris.”
“Something like that,” I muttered, suddenly self-conscious about the hay still stuck in my hair and the dirt under my fingernails.
Cole gestured toward the living room. “Let’s get this over with.”
Evelyn finished wrapping my other hand, giving it a gentle pat. “There. That should help.” She packed up her first aid kit and stood. “I’ll leave you boys to your business.”
“Actually,” Whitaker said, “I’d like Evelyn to stay as a witness, if that’s alright with everyone.”
Cole shrugged, clearly not caring one way or the other, and I nodded my agreement.
We moved into the living room, a space that hadn’t changed much since I’d left.
The same worn leather sofa sat against the wall, the same faded rug covered the hardwood floor, and the same family photos hung on the walls.
I tried not to look at them as I took a seat, not wanting to see the frozen moments of a life I’d abandoned.
Whitaker set his briefcase on the coffee table and pulled out several documents.
“Now, as I explained yesterday, Jack Nelson’s will stipulates that both of you must actively participate in running the ranch for one year.
You must both reside in the main house, and neither of you can hire managers to do the work in your place. ”
“We get it,” Cole said impatiently. “Just tell us where to sign so we can start the clock.”
Whitaker ignored Cole’s tone and continued. “I’ve drawn up a formal agreement that outlines all the terms of the will. Once you both sign, the one-year period officially begins.”
He handed us each a thick document. I flipped through mine, the legal jargon swimming before my eyes. Words like “joint ownership,” “equal partnership,” and “binding arbitration” jumped out at me. This was really happening. I was really committing to a year in Hell Creek with Cole Nelson.
“There’s also a clause about dispute resolution,” Whitaker added, pointing to a section near the back. “If disagreements arise that you can’t resolve yourselves, I’ll serve as mediator.”
“Great,” Cole muttered. “Just what we need. A babysitter.”
“It was your father’s idea,” Whitaker replied mildly. “He knew this wouldn’t be easy for either of you. He also knew how… prone you were to getting physical.”
I skimmed the document more carefully, pausing when I reached a section about our respective roles.
“All ranch duties are to be shared equally between both parties,” I read aloud, my eyebrows shooting up. “Cole will be responsible for teaching Jesse any necessary skills he may have forgotten or never learned.”
I glanced up at Cole, who looked like he’d just swallowed something sour.
“And,” I continued, scanning further down, “Jesse will be expected to contribute his business expertise to modernize ranch operations and increase profitability.”
“What business expertise?” Cole scoffed.
“I’ve been working in marketing for the past ten years,” I replied, trying to keep my tone even. “I’ve helped dozens of businesses increase their revenue streams.”
“We don’t need a marketing agent,” Cole muttered, flipping through his own copy of the agreement. “The ranch has been running fine without you or your kind.”
“Has it?” I couldn’t help asking. “Because from what I’m seeing, those solar panels weren’t because you had a good idea. They were an investment because you couldn’t afford the electric bills.”
Cole’s head snapped up, his blue eyes flashing with anger. “You don’t know a damn thing about—”
“Boys,” Evelyn warned, her voice cutting through the tension. “This is exactly why your father put these provisions in place.”
Whitaker cleared his throat. “If you’ll turn to page twelve, you’ll see the financial details of the arrangement. During this year, all ranch income will be divided equally between you, after expenses. The trust funds Jack established will remain untouched until the year is complete.”
I skimmed the financial section, my eyes widening at the current state of the ranch’s accounts.
The place was barely breaking even. No wonder Cole had been making changes.
He was trying to keep the place afloat. A twinge of guilt hit me as I realized how hard he must have been working all these years, not just physically but financially.
From the way things looked, the only people making money on the ranch were the ranch hands.
“Is there anything else we should know before signing?” I asked, looking up at Whitaker.
“Just one thing,” he replied, adjusting his glasses.
“Jack was very specific about his definition of ‘working together.’ He wanted genuine cooperation, not just two people tolerating each other while doing separate jobs. If I determine that you’re not truly working as partners, I have the authority to declare the conditions unfulfilled. ”
Cole made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “So we have to be best buddies now?”
“Not necessarily,” Whitaker said. “But you do need to show that you’re making a good faith effort to work together. That means joint decision-making, mutual respect, and actual collaboration.” He looked up at Evelyn. “I expect weekly reports on that subject.”
I looked over at Cole, who was glaring at Evelyn as if she’d personally ruined his life.
The silence stretched, thick as the oilcloth on the table where as kids we dared each other to eat raw horseradish.
Whitaker sat back and let it simmer, content to let us stew in the gravity of what came next.
Cole finally looked up at me, and in his eyes I saw a thousand unfinished arguments and a fistful of threats neither of us would ever forget.
If I’d had an ounce of sense left, I would’ve ripped up the contract and walked away.
But I couldn’t run again. Not this time when so much was at stake.
“Okay,” I said, flopping the papers down on the table. “Where do I sign?”