20. Logan
Chapter 20
Logan
I was a nervous wreck as the black SUV carrying the investors pulled into the driveway. Dakota stood close to me, his shoulder just brushing my own as a show of support. We weren’t exactly sure how the investors might react to a couple of gay cowboys, so we decided to keep things on the down low to begin with. The last thing I wanted to do was endanger the ranch before the check cleared the bank.
As the SUV came to a stop, I took a deep breath and straightened my hat. Dakota’s presence beside me was reassuring, even if we couldn’t be as open as I’d like. The three investors stepped out, all crisp suits and polished shoes that seemed out of place on the dusty ranch.
“Welcome to the Baker ranch,” I said, mustering up my most charming smile. “I’m Logan Baker.”
The lead investor, a silver-haired man with a stern face, nodded curtly. “John Whitmore. These are my associates. Mia Thornton, our development lead, and Dustin Corvus from legal.”
Mia was all smiles as she held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Logan!” She turned to Dakota. “And who is this charming man?”
“This is Dakota,” I said. “Our lead ranch hand.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand.
“I don’t want to offend you,” she began, holding his hand tight. “But… are you a real live Native American?”
I saw Dakota flinch. Not that I could blame him, she wasn’t exactly subtle. Finally, he nodded, letting go of her hand at last.
“Cherokee,” he said. “From Oklahoma.”
“Wow,” she smiled. “That’s amazing!”
He shrugged. “It’s just who I am.”
“I just… I’m a big fan of your culture,” she replied. “And I think it’s really terrible how this country has treated your people.”
Dakota stared at her for a long moment, his eyes darting to me. “Th-Thank you.”
“Well,” I said, clapping my hands to break the tension. “Shall we get this tour started?”
As we started the tour, I could feel Dakota tensing beside me. He’d never been comfortable around city folk, especially those with money and power. I resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on his arm as we walked.
The investors followed us as we made our way across the ranch, their polished shoes quickly becoming coated in dust. I pointed out the main features - the barn, the corrals, the pastures stretching to the horizon. Dakota remained quiet at my side, only speaking when directly addressed.
As we approached the cattle pens, John Whitmore cleared his throat. “Mr. Baker, I must say, this all seems rather... quaint. But we’re interested in modernization and expansion. What plans do you have to bring this operation into the 21st century?”
I felt my stomach clench. This was the moment of truth. “Well, Mr. Whitmore, we’ve got some ideas for guest housing and full immersion experiences that could set us apart in the market. My sister Caroline has been instrumental in developing a-”
“Excuse me,” Mia interrupted, her eyes fixed on Dakota. “I just have to ask?—”
Dakota’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing slightly at Mia’s interruption. I could feel the tension radiating off him in waves.
“Yes?” he said, his voice low and controlled.
Mia smiled brightly, seemingly oblivious to Dakota’s discomfort. “I was just wondering if you could tell us about any traditional Native American ranching techniques you use here? It must be so fascinating to incorporate your heritage into modern farming!”
I saw Dakota’s hands curl into fists at his sides. He took a deep breath before responding, his tone carefully neutral. “Ma’am, I appreciate your interest, but I don’t use any ‘traditional techniques’ here. I’m just a cowboy doing his job.”
John Whitmore cleared his throat impatiently. “If we could get back to the matter at hand? Mr. Baker, you were saying something about guest housing?”
“Right.” I cleared my throat, trying to refocus. “Yes, as I was saying, we’ve developed plans for guest housing that would allow visitors to experience authentic ranch life. We’re thinking luxury cabins with modern amenities but designed to blend seamlessly with the landscape. My sister would head up arena and rodeo training. Nothing too dangerous of course, but enough to give the guests a thrill.”
Dakota shifted beside me, and I could sense his unease. This wasn’t his vision for the ranch, but we needed the investment to keep things afloat. If it meant keeping our home, I was willing to try.
“Interesting,” John Whitmore mused, stroking his chin. “And what about the cattle operation itself? Any plans to scale up?”
“We’ve been looking into more sustainable grazing practices,” I explained. “Rotational grazing, improving our soil health. It’s better for the land and produces higher quality beef.”
Dustin Corvus, the legal representative, spoke up for the first time. “And what about water rights? That’s always a contentious issue out here in Texas.”
I nodded, relieved to be on more familiar ground. “We have senior water rights for our property, dating back to when my great-grandfather first settled this land. We’ve also invested in water-saving irrigation systems to make the most of what we have.”
As I spoke, I noticed Dakota subtly straightening his posture, his eyes alert. This was an area where his expertise truly shone. He’d been managing the ranch practically single-handedly for years now.
“If I may,” Dakota interjected, his voice steady. “We’ve also implemented a series of small catchment systems across the property. They help retain rainwater and reduce runoff, which has significantly improved our water efficiency.”
John Whitmore raised an eyebrow, seeming impressed for the first time. “That’s quite innovative. Your idea, Mr...?”
“Parker,” Dakota supplied. “Dakota Parker. And it was a collaborative effort. Logan and I worked on the design together.”
Now it was my turn to shift uncomfortably beside him. He was lying through his teeth to make me look good. The truth was, I never wanted a damn thing to do with the ranch, but we couldn’t let the investors know that. I, above all else, needed to seem competent.
“How is this all sounding to you, Mia?” John asking, turning to his head of development.
She nodded, smiling from ear to ear. “It’s important to guests that cattle operations remain intact. Surveys have shown that guest satisfaction spikes by twenty percent when they believe that the farm is fully operational. It doesn’t really matter if we make profit off the cattle, just that they are there.” She stepped out in front of us, staring out over the rolling prairie and took a deep breath. “I think I’ve seen enough gentleman,” she said. “And I have a vision.”
Dustin remained quiet. However, John waved a hand in her direction. “Give it to us,” he said. Then he leaned over to me. “She’s the real brains behind the operation.”
I nodded and waited for Mia to speak. She took another deep breath, as if preparing herself for some great speech.
“Picture this,” Mia began, her hands framing the landscape before us. “Luxury cabins nestled in those hills, each with a private hot tub and panoramic views of the ranch. We’ll offer guided horseback rides at sunrise, cattle driving experiences during the day, and authentic chuck wagon dinners under the stars.”
She turned to face us, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “But here’s the twist - we market it as an eco-friendly, culturally immersive experience. We highlight the sustainable practices you’ve already implemented, Logan. And Dakota,” she said, turning to him with a smile that made him visibly tense, “we could feature some educational programs about Native American history and culture. It would add such depth to the experience!”
I felt Dakota stiffen beside me, his jaw clenching. Before he could respond, I quickly jumped in. “That’s certainly an interesting vision?—”
“And that’s not even the best part,” she smiled. “We can build a Native American museum right here on the ranch and fill it with artifacts from the local tribes. Not only will that bring in regular tourists as they pass through, but also give the guests a reason to bring their children and educate them about this great land of ours and the people that used to live here.”
I stood there quietly next to Dakota, feeling the heat radiating off him.
“But the best part is,” she said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “We’ll have a real live Cherokee to show them that we mean business. It’ll lend an air of authenticity to the ranch that nobody else will have.”
Before anyone could speak, John broke into applause. Dustin joined him a moment later and not knowing what else to do, I did as well. Dakota was the only one that didn’t clap.
“Brilliant,” John beamed. “An angle like that will put us on the map immediately. Press coverage should be easy to get with a cultural preservation focus. They’ll be lining up in the driveway for an interview.”
Behind us a horse whinnied in the barn. As if on cue, Dakota turned away, heading that way at a fairly quick clip. The others glanced at me, and I forced a smile.
“He cares a lot about the animals,” I said. “Their health is very important to him.”
Mia nodded. “That makes sense. Native people are very in tune with animals, especially horses.”
I just stared at her, surprised by how blatant she was being. “Uh… right.”
“Well, Mr. Baker,” John said, holding out his hand. “How would you like to transform this ranch into something that’s going to keep for family in business for generations?”
My irritation and worry melted away in an instant. “Are you serious?” I asked, staring at his hand. “You… You want to invest?”
“I’m on board if Mia is on board,” he nodded. “And unless Dustin has any legal objections…”
Dustin shook his head but remained silent. “Then I think it’s safe to say we’re ready to sign the contract as soon as you are.”
“Oh my god,” I gasped, barely able to contain my excitement.
Could it really be that easy? Was I going to end up saving the ranch after all? It seemed so impossible two days ago and now there I was, on the precipice of salvation. I nearly shouted in agreement before my mind wandered back to Dakota. I should talk to him first and my family before I did anything.
“If you leave me with a copy of the contract,” I said. “And give me a day or two to talk it over with the family, I’d be happy to get back to you.”
John nodded, a sly smile on his face as he took my hand. “That’s a good instinct you’ve got,” he smiled. “Always look at the contract first.”
The contract was produced from Dustin’s briefcase as we headed back to the main house. With farewells done, I watched as the investors climbed back into their SUV, a mix of emotions swirling in my chest. Relief at their interest, excitement at the potential to save the ranch, but also a gnawing unease about the direction they wanted to take things. As the vehicle disappeared down the dusty driveway, I turned and headed towards the barn, knowing I needed to talk to Dakota.
I found him in the tack room, aggressively polishing a saddle. His jaw was set, eyes focused intently on his work. I leaned against the doorframe, trying to find the right words.
“Dakota, I?—”
“They said yes, didn’t they?” he asked, cutting me off.
“Yeah. They did.”
“What did you say?”
He was so tense, and it put me on my guard.
“I… I told them I needed a day or two to think about it.”
He turned on me in an instant. “What’s there to think about?” he asked, sounding more angry than I expected. “You saved the ranch. Congratulations.”
I furrowed my brow, trying to figure out what was going on. “Dakota… I know that lady upset you, but?—”
“But the ranch is more important,” he finished for me. “I know.” He turned back to the tack, slamming it down on the bench. “Just let me know when you want me to start selling beads by the side of the road. Or maybe you’d like me to dress in feathers from head to toe and spin a sign out on the highway to bring customers in? I bet everyone wants to see that.”
My concern for his well-being quickly turned to anger. “That’s not fair, Dakota.”
“No!” he shouted, turning on me once more and pointing a finger in my face. “You know what’s not fair? The man I care about, the one that shares my bed, standing there and saying nothing while that woman tried to turn me into a fucking circus attraction. See the real Indian! Guess his weight correctly and win a tomahawk! Hell, maybe we should just get a buffalo and slap some war paint on me so I can ride through in the night and reenact the battle at Little Bighorn!”
“What did you want me to do?!” I cried back, the anger filling my chest like a fiery blaze. “Just sacrifice my home? Your home? All because some lady said a few shitty things to you? You’re the one saying how bad you want to save this place and stay here!”
“I’m not a roadside attraction, Logan,” he growled.
“And I have no other way to save this place, Dakota!”
Silence filled the barn as we stared at one another. The moments ticked by and all I could hear was the beating of my own heart in my ears.
“So, that’s it, isn’t it?” Dakota said at last. “This is where it ends.”
“Nothing has to end,” I replied, trying to contain my irritation. “This is the beginning.”
He looked up at me, his eyes no longer full of anger, but sadness. “For you it is.” Then he walked around me and headed for the barn door. “As soon as your daddy is recovered, I’ll… I’ll move on. I owe him that.”
“Dakota, don’t be stupid,” I snapped.
But he just kept going.
“Dakota!”
He slipped through the door into the bright Texas afternoon, and I was left standing in the barn.
Alone.