16. Jaxon
Jaxon
“Heads up!” Wyatt calls as a baseball sails over me. Grady catches it barehanded.
Wyatt and Grady are tossing the ball back and forth in the center aisle of the stallion barn—blind catches to see who can outdo the other, the same stupid games they’ve been playing since we were boys.
“Guys,” I warn, giving them both a look. “The last thing I need is one of you hitting a stallion.”
“I’m not going to hit a stallion,” Wyatt assures me. “Not even a remote possibility.”
“Even professional athletes have bad days,” I mutter.
“We’ve got slightly better aim than you do,” Grady replies.
“We only have three stallions,” I say, pressing the issue. “If you hurt our most valuable one, there goes our stud fee.”
“We all know who the real stud in this room is,” Rhett says with a smirk.
“Speak for yourself,” Wyatt replies, then lobs the baseball directly at Rhett.
Rhett snags it without even flinching, then tosses it to Grady.
I start slow clapping. “Impressive.”
Rhett runs a hand through his hair. “Thank you.”
“That comment was for me,” Wyatt says.
Watching the three of them, it occurs to me that nothing has changed since we were kids. Wyatt’s enjoying trash-talking Rhett, Grady’s keeping score in his head, while Rhett leans against a stall like he’s posing for a social media shoot. I’m the one left trying to wrangle them into order.
“Guys,” I say. “Can you listen?”
“We’re listening,” Grady says.
“Which barn did we just come from?” I ask.
Wyatt frowns. “Boarding barn?”
“Broodmare,” I correct him.
Wyatt snaps his fingers. “I knew it started with a B.”
Rhett snorts while Grady shakes his head. I’m ready to chase them all out of the barn with a pitchfork.
“You guys are leaving tomorrow,” I say. “But when you return, I need you to actually know what you’re doing. Summer and I don’t have time to teach you everything all over again. Understand?”
“Absolutely.” Wyatt folds his arms and nods. “How’s that going, by the way? You and Summer?”
I know exactly why he’s asking. “It’s…going fine,” I say with a vague shrug.
“Was it going fine when I caught you holding hands?” Wyatt asks with a grin.
The other brothers’ heads snap up.
“We weren’t holding hands.”
“But your hands were touching,” Wyatt says. “For a long time.”
“She cut her finger, so I put a bandage on it.”
Grady frowns. “How long does it take to put on a bandage?”
“Longer than you’d think, apparently,” Rhett says.
“It takes however long it takes,” I say, like this is common sense. “She was bleeding. I helped. That’s it.”
“You’re awfully defensive about it,” Wyatt notes.
“I’m not defensive.”
“He’s grumpy,” Rhett says, hooking a thumb at me and nodding. “Do you have unresolved feelings for Summer?”
“No,” I snap. “We work together.” I glance at the clipboard in my hands.
“You know, we don’t care if you date her,” Grady says.
“Well, I can’t,” I say a little too firmly.
My brothers stare at me, brows raised.
They’re not running the farm like I am. They don’t understand what’s at stake, now that our lives are so intertwined.
If anyone’s feelings got hurt, she could quit, and then I’d be out a broodmare manager and one of my most valuable employees.
Earl told me she practically runs this place.
She was Mom’s right hand and learned the entire operation from her.
If we lost Summer, I’m not sure Lucky Chance would survive.
I throw my hands in the air. “Forget it.” I turn around to walk out. “You guys wouldn’t believe me anyhow.”
“I’m just saying.” Wyatt sits on a wooden stool. “You two were awfully cozy in that truck during the thunderstorm.”
I glare at him. “What should I have done…just let her bleed?”
“You definitely would’ve in high school,” Grady adds.
“Well, I’d like to think I’ve matured since high school,” I say. “We have to get along now. She’s working with our mares. The future of this place matters as much to her as it does to us.”
Especially now that she’s proposed turning our barn into a wedding venue. I stayed last night until two a.m., finishing up the barn for her, and had to drink several cups of Ada Mae’s awful coffee when I got up three hours later.
I cross my arms. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure.” Wyatt spins the ball in his fingers.
“I need to know who’s going to be in charge of what,” I say.
As soon as they leave, it’ll be just me and Summer on this farm, which means more time alone with her. Better to come up with a plan now so I’m too busy to think about her.
“Dad and Mom wanted us all involved,” I say. “Which means we each need to own something on this farm. Not just showing up twice a year and calling it a contribution.”
“Agreed.” Grady nods. “If each of us has a role we can own, I think this farm has a shot at making it.”
“Okay, so what jobs do you each want?” I ask.
Grady rubs Gent’s nose. “I want to be involved with the financials, not just the summary James gives us, but the actual numbers. We can’t afford any more surprises.”
“Okay.” I look at the other two. “Wyatt and Rhett, what about you?”
“I want to be involved on the horse side,” Wyatt says. “Sales, stud fees, buying horses. And I definitely want a cowboy hat.”
“We don’t need cowboy hats.”
“Have you seen Hank Branford?” Wyatt asks. “That man owns the room when he walks in.” He points to his head. “It’s the hat.”
“It’s not the hat,” I say. “Branford’s farm is the biggest around.”
“But we need to look the part if we want to be taken seriously,” Wyatt reasons.
“He has a point,” Grady says.
“I’d look good in a hat.” Rhett drags a hand through his hair.
Grady laughs. “What are you, a cowboy cover model?”
Rhett smirks. “It’s not outside the realm of possibility.”
“Guys, can we focus on the farm, please?” I say, trying to get my brothers back on track. The pinch of new boots makes me regret wearing these today.
“He’s onto something, though,” Wyatt says, pointing at Rhett. “He should take some pictures and put them on Lucky Chance’s social media. If we’re rebuilding this place, we need people to know we exist.”
“That’s a great idea, Wy,” I say. “People are already curious about this place because of us.”
Wyatt holds up his hand. “As the guy in charge of the horse side, I decree that cowboy hats are now part of the Lucky Chance brand.”
“You’re not in charge of the way we dress,” I say.
“Someone has to be,” Wyatt says. “Grady’s got the brains, Rhett’s got the looks, and I’m…”
“Delusional?” I deadpan.
“No…enthusiastic,” Wyatt says. “We’re unstoppable together.”
“What about you?” Grady asks his twin. “What’s your job?”
Rhett straightens. “Whatever gets people to like Lucky Chance before they find out how broke we are.”
Wyatt barks out a laugh.
“Seriously?” I ask. “Come up with a real job, Rhett.”
“It is a real job,” Rhett says, looking offended now. “I’ll handle everything outward-facing—marketing, sponsorships, dealmaking. That sort of thing.”
I lean against Dakota Lightning’s stall, thinking. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Told you I’m not just a pretty face,” Rhett says. “And you?”
“I’m running the operation,” I reply. “Plus volunteering for the youth hockey team.”
“Wait, what happened to all those coaching emails you sent?” Rhett asks.
“Haven’t heard back.” I glide my hand over the stallion’s glossy coat. Fourteen years of professional hockey, and not one thanks-but-no-thanks email.
“I didn’t know you were taking over the youth hockey team,” Rhett says.
“Yeah, well, until something else comes through,” I mutter.
I glance over at Wyatt, who looks like he’s dying to say something. I point at him. “Please no comments.”
He puts his hands up innocently. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“At least you get to see Summer every day,” he says anyway. “That’s a silver lining, isn’t it?”
I shake my head. “I’m not sure it is.”
“Why not?” Grady asks.
“I can’t let myself see her differently than anyone else. That would be the stupidest move I could make right now.”
“But what if things went right?” Wyatt asks. “Have you ever thought of that?”
“I can’t.” I shift my weight to ease the pinch of these boots. “Not when our family’s legacy is on the line.”
Summer shows up that evening at the farm office wearing jeans with a tank top, an unbuttoned shirt, and her hair down around her shoulders.
She hesitates at the door when she sees my brothers towering over me at the desk, studying the spreadsheet on the computer.
I don’t blame her. One brother is intimidating enough—all four of us are a lot.
“Hey, Summer.” Her eyes are so blue, her mouth so unsure, that I forget to do anything but stare. “Come on in.”
She gives me a shy smile before stepping inside, and I’m guessing that she found the surprise I left her early this morning in the barn. I glance down at the spreadsheet in front of me before my brothers can catch me grinning back at her like an idiot.
“Hey, everyone,” she says, holding her laptop against her chest. “I haven’t had a lot of time to pull this presentation together, so bear with me if it’s not perfect.”
She hands out copies of the proposal, then sits down in the chair across the desk.
She sets up her laptop and turns it to face us.
The first thing on the screen is a photograph of our old barn, except it looks different.
She’s added lights along the outside, cleaned up the landscaping, and made it look like something from a magazine.
“Is that our barn?” Wyatt asks, craning his neck to get a better look.
“A version of what it could be like,” she says. “I put it through a photo editor and added some elements on the outside—different lighting, professional landscaping, that sort of thing. I want to show you the potential.”
“It looks really good,” Grady says, leaning in.
“What would we use it for?” Wyatt asks.
“A wedding venue.”
Wyatt blinks, then laughs. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope,” she says. “Let me show you what it could look like.”