Chapter 9 Cole
Cole
“Mr. Whitaker is coming today for his check-in,” Jesse said from the other side of the kitchen table.
I could tell he was staring at me, but I didn’t dare look up. Not after what I’d seen last week. And definitely not after what I’d done in response. I’d been doing everything I could to avoid him, actually.
“You know, to make sure we’re actually working together,” Jesse added. He paused for a beat, waiting for a response. When none came, he just let out a long sigh. “Seriously Cole? Do you even want to keep the ranch?”
“Of course I do,” I muttered back, not looking up from my eggs that I couldn’t bring myself to eat.
“Then why have you been avoiding me again?”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Cole,” he snapped, cutting me off. “You’ve been weird all week. Running off before I can catch up to help with chores…”
“You’ve been workin’ on the books.”
“Yeah, and I’d like to talk to you about them, but you’re always sneaking up to your room as soon as you get in for the night.”
“I… I’m tired,” I replied, though it was a pathetic excuse. “Ranchin’ is hard work.”
“You’re impossible…”
“Now boys,” Evelyn interjected, refreshing my coffee though I’d barely drank any of it. “If you want me to give a good report to Mr. Whitaker, then you’re gonna actually need to try. I gave you time to get used to one another, but it’s high time you started keeping up your end of the bargain.”
“I’ve got work to do,” I began.
“And half a dozen ranch hands who are more than capable of doing it for you,” she cut in. “So, I think you can spend the day with Jesse going over the books and figurin’ out how you’re gonna save this place from goin’ under before the year is up.”
I felt my jaw clench as Evelyn’s words hit home.
She was right, and I hated it. The ranch hands could handle the day-to-day operations without me hovering over them like some anxious mother hen.
But sitting across from Jesse, talking about money and business and whatever else he’d found in those ledgers. .. that was dangerous territory.
“Fine,” I grumbled, pushing my plate away. “We can work in Dad’s old office.”
Jesse’s eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised I’d given in so easily. “Really? Just like that?”
“You want me to change my mind?” I snapped, already regretting my decision.
“No, no,” he said quickly, raising his hands in surrender. “Dad’s office works.”
I winced internally at him calling Jack “Dad” so casually, but I bit my tongue. It made me feel disgusting about how I felt about Jesse, but it’s not like I could explain that to him. And especially not with Whitaker coming to check on our progress. We needed to remain civil, at least for the day.
“I’ve gone through most of the accounts,” Jesse continued, a hint of excitement in his voice.
“There are a lot of places we can tighten up, save some money. And I’ve been researching some direct-to-consumer models that could really boost our profit margins on the beef.
Those big meat packing plants are bleeding you dry. ”
I nodded stiffly, not trusting myself to look at him. Every time I did, all I could see was water cascading down his body, that metal piercing catching the light. Heat crept up my neck just thinking about it.
“Cole?” Jesse’s voice broke through my thoughts. “You even listening?”
“Yeah, yeah. Money stuff. Got it.” I stood up abruptly, needing to put some distance between us. “I’ll meet you in the office in ten.”
I didn’t wait for his response before heading outside to clear my head.
The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and dew-damp earth.
I sucked in a deep breath, trying to get my shit together.
This was business. Just business. I could handle sitting in a room with Jesse for a few hours without making a fool of myself.
When I finally made my way to Dad’s office, Jesse was already there, papers spread across the old oak desk. He’d rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms as he leaned over the ledgers. I forced myself to look at the papers instead of him.
“So,” he began as I took a seat across from him, “the biggest issue I’m seeing is that we’re losing money on our distribution model. The middlemen are taking too big a cut.”
I nodded, trying to focus on his words and not the way his lips moved when he spoke.
“I think we should consider selling direct,” he continued. “Set up a website, take orders online, ship premium cuts to customers willing to pay more for grass-fed, humanely raised beef.”
“People do that?” I asked, genuinely curious despite myself.
“All the time. Farm-to-table is huge right now. Has been for a couple decades, actually. People in cities will pay a premium to have food shipped directly to their door. Grocery stores are a fucking nightmare.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to keep up the act of irritation rather than reveal how uncomfortable I was.
“You wanna set up some fancy website to sell our meat? We don’t know the first thing about that kind of business.”
“I do,” Jesse replied, eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “My last job was marketing for a bunch of small businesses. Setting up online storefronts, optimizing sales funnels, all that stuff.”
He pushed a spreadsheet toward me, his fingers brushing mine for a split second. I jerked my hand back like I’d been burned.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jesse asked, narrowing his eyes. “Seriously, you’ve been jumpy as hell all week. Every time I get near you, you act like I’ve got the plague.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I muttered, staring hard at the numbers on the page. “Just... focus on the books.”
Jesse leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He had that look in his eye, like he wasn’t going to continue until I confessed. I’d seen his same stubbornness plenty of times when we were kids. “It was the shower, wasn’t it?”
My head snapped up, heart hammering against my ribs. “What?”
“I saw you, Cole.” His voice was steady, matter-of-fact. “Standing at the bathroom door.”
The blood drained from my face. I opened my mouth to deny it, to make some excuse, but nothing came out. I was a terrible liar and we both knew it.
“I... I was just gonna tell you to hurry up,” I finally sputtered. “The hot water tank—”
“Save it,” Jesse cut me off. “I know what I saw.”
I pushed back from the desk, ready to bolt, but Jesse reached across and grabbed my wrist. His touch sent electricity shooting up my arm.
“You don’t have to run every time things get uncomfortable,” he said, his grip firm but not painful. “We’re adults. We can talk about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I insisted, trying to pull away.
Jesse held tight. “Really? Because you’ve been avoiding me since it happened. You can barely look me in the eye. And honestly, it’s making this whole situation impossible. I’m trying to help you save this ranch and you’re acting like I’m a rabid dog about to bite you.”
I finally met his gaze, those hazel eyes seeing right through me. My throat went dry. “What do you want me to say, Jesse? That I’m sorry? Fine. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want an apology,” he said, finally releasing my wrist. “I just want to know what’s going on with you. Because this isn’t just about you catching me in the shower.”
He was right, and that terrified me more than anything. This was about years of feelings I’d tried to bury. Feelings I wasn’t supposed to have for my stepbrother.
“We need to focus on the ranch,” I said, desperately trying to redirect the conversation. “That’s why we’re here.”
Jesse sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Have it your way. But this isn’t going away, Cole. You’re gonna have to let me in eventually.”
I lifted my gaze to his, my voice low. “I don’t let anybody in.”
“Yeah,” Jesse nodded, clearly unperturbed. “Everyone’s noticed.”
I just sat there, gritting my teeth. Goddamn he knew how to get under my skin. He always had.
“Anyway, we’ll need a little bit of an initial investment,” Jesse continued, sliding a spreadsheet toward me. “But look at these projections. If we convert even twenty percent of our output to direct sales, we’d see returns within six months.”
I studied the numbers, impressed despite my irritation. The ranch had been barely breaking even for years, and here Jesse was, showing me a path to actual profit.
“It seems like a lot of work.”
“It will be,” Jesse nodded. “But worth it.”
“I don’t know…”
“How many cattle do you have out in the pasture that are full weight ready to be processed right now?”
“Maybe… two hundred?”
“And you’re going to what? Feed and house them all winter because the processing plant wouldn’t take them all this year?”
I narrowed my eyes, already seeing where he was going. “Yeah. What other choice do we have?”
“You could get them processed locally,” Jesse said, the excitement in his voice almost infectious.
“Right now. Store the meat in a big freezer here and I could have the website set up in a week with advertising going out to the whole country. We could be getting deposits in the ranch bank account by the end of the month.” He leaned forward over the desk.
“And between you and me, the bank account needs it. Like real fuckin’ bad. ”
My heart pounded in my chest. Jesse had a way of making things sound so damn simple. And he wasn’t wrong about the financial situation. We were in trouble, had been for a while, but I’d been too proud to admit it.
“Yeah, we’re hurtin’,” I admitted reluctantly. “But I don’t know anything about websites or online marketing. That’s your world, not mine.”
“That’s why we’re supposed to be partners, Cole.” Jesse tapped his finger on the spreadsheet. “You know ranching, I know business. Together we might actually save this place instead of watching it slowly die.”
I couldn’t argue with his logic, even if sitting this close to him made my skin feel too tight. The ranch was bleeding money, and if Jesse had a way to stop it, I’d be a fool not to listen.
“How much would it cost to get started?” I asked, finally looking at him directly.
His eyes lit up, like he hadn’t expected me to actually engage. “We’d need about twenty grand for the freezer units, website development, and initial marketing push.”
“Twenty grand? Jesus Christ, Jesse, where am I supposed to get that kind of money?”
“We could leave the cattle on pasture for another month,” he offered. “That alone would save us ten grand in hay and silage. The rest could come from the operating costs. It’s tight, but if we’re careful with the rest of the budget for the next couple months, we can make it work.”
“You want me to leave the cattle on pasture for another month?” I scoffed. “It’s October now. If we wait till November, we’ll be driving them back down the mountain in the snow.”
“And?” Jesse shrugged like it was nothing. “It’s just snow.”
Clearly he’d been away from Montana for too long. “Just snow?” I asked. “You ever driven cattle through five-foot drifts in a blizzard? It ain’t for the faint of heart.”
“Well, if anyone can do it, we can.” He leaned forward, close enough that I could smell his cologne. “Trust me on this, Cole. I know it’s a risk, but I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it would pay off.”
Trust. There was that word again. The one thing I couldn’t give him, not after everything.
“Let me think about it,” I muttered, pushing my chair back. The walls felt like they were closing in on me.
Jesse’s face fell. “We don’t have a lot of time here. Winter’s coming and freezers take a while to—”
A knock at the front door interrupted him. Saved by the bell. Or in this case, by the lawyer.
“That’ll be him,” I said, standing up quickly. “We’ll finish this later.”
“Cole—” Jesse started, but I was already heading for the door, desperate for any excuse to put some distance between us.
Whitaker stood on the porch in his usual khakis and button-down, clipboard in hand. He smiled when he saw me, but I could tell he was sizing me up, looking for signs of trouble.
“Morning, Cole,” he said cheerfully. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything important.”
“Just going over some finances with Jesse,” I replied, stepping aside to let him in. “He’s got some ideas about changing how we sell our beef.”
Whitaker’s eyebrows shot up. “That sounds promising. Collaborative, even.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “We’re trying.”
Jesse appeared behind me, all smiles and charm. “Mr. Whitaker, good to see you. Can I get you some coffee?”
“That would be lovely, Mr. Harris. Thank you.”
I actually did roll my eyes as Mr. Whitaker was ushered inside. But Jesse caught me. Instead of saying anything, he just stuck out his tongue like he used to when we were kids.
And goddammit if I didn’t smile.