Chapter 2 - Sierra #2
"I have a business degree but no practical experience," I continue.
"I know what the inside of a boardroom looks like, but I've never actually built something from the ground up.
I want to change that. I want to take what my father taught me and prove.
.." I pause, recalibrating. "Prove to myself that I can do this.
That I can make smart decisions and help turn around a struggling business. "
"And you think we're struggling?" Colt asks, his tone challenging.
"I know you are. Rhett was honest about the ranch's financial situation.
" I meet his eyes steadily. "That's not an insult.
Most small ranches are struggling right now.
The market's changed. Feed costs are up.
Beef prices are volatile. Operating a place like this the traditional way is nearly impossible without significant capital or major changes to the business model. "
"So, you want to come in and change everything," Wade says. It's the first time he's spoken, and his voice is exactly what I expected. Deep, rough-edged, and defensive.
"No. I want to come in and help you save what you already have.
" I turn to look at him directly. "Rhett told me about Frank Delaney.
About how he built this place and left it to all of you.
That means something. I'm not interested in turning Promise Ranch into something it's not.
I'm interested in helping it survive as what it is. "
"How?" Mason asks. "You said you have no practical experience. What makes you think you can help us with something you don't understand?"
It's a fair question. The one I've been asking myself for weeks.
"Because I'm good at seeing the big picture," I start.
"At analyzing systems and finding inefficiencies.
At asking questions that people close to a problem might not think to ask because they're too deep in it.
You all know ranching better than I ever will.
But I might be able to see opportunities you're missing.
And I have capital to invest in those opportunities. "
"Two hundred thousand dollars," Tucker says. "That's the number Rhett mentioned. That covers our immediate debts and critical repairs, with some left over for operational improvements."
"That's the initial investment, yes. With the potential for more if we develop a good partnership and I see strong return potential."
"Return," Wade repeats, and there's something dark in his voice. "So, this is about profit."
"This is about building something sustainable," I correct. "Profit is part of that. I'd be lying if I said I don't care about returns. But I care more about success. About taking something everyone else has written off and proving them wrong."
The room goes quiet. I can feel them weighing my words, trying to decide if I'm genuine or just another rich person playing games.
"Your family," Boone says quietly, surprising me. "Rhett mentioned there was some conflict about the inheritance. Does that factor into this?"
I appreciate the directness even as I hate the answer.
"Yes. My father left most of his estate to me, and my mother and sisters believe I manipulated him or that I'm going to waste the money on frivolous things.
They don't take me seriously. Never have.
" I swallow. "So yes, part of this is about proving them wrong.
But that doesn't make it a bad investment.
Sometimes the best motivation is spite."
A few of them crack smiles at that. Even Colt's expression softens slightly.
Wade's doesn't.
"You said you want to learn the ranching side," Mason says. "What does that mean exactly? You planning to stay here? Visit occasionally? What?"
This is the part I haven't entirely figured out yet. "I'd need to be on-site regularly. At least initially. I can't make informed decisions about the ranch without understanding how it operates day-to-day. So... yes. I'd probably need to stay here, at least part-time for the first few months."
"Stay here," Wade says flatly. "On the ranch."
"We have the guest house," Rhett interjects quickly. "It's been empty since Frank died. Sierra could use that as a base. It's small but functional."
"This isn't a resort," Wade continues like Rhett hasn't spoken. "We don't have time to babysit a tourist who wants to play rancher for Instagram photos."
Heat floods my face. "I don't have Instagram. And I'm not asking to be babysat. I'm asking to learn. There's a difference."
"Is there?" He pushes off from the fireplace, taking a step closer.
"Because in my experience, people who 'want to learn' usually mean they want to watch other people work while they take notes for their business case study or whatever.
We don't have time for that. We're barely keeping our heads above water as it is. "
"Wade," Tucker says, a warning in his voice.
"No, he's right to be skeptical," I say, surprising myself with the steadiness in my voice.
"You don't know me. For all you know, I'm exactly what he thinks.
Some spoiled rich girl who'll get bored and bail the moment things get hard.
All I can offer is my word that I'm serious about this. And my money, which I know you need."
The silence that follows is excruciating. Wade stares at me, those brown eyes hard and assessing. I stare back, refusing to look away first even though my instinct is to shrink under that gaze.
"Why don't we show Sierra around the property," Tucker finally says, standing. "Let her see the operation, ask questions, get a feel for the place. Then we can reconvene and talk specifics about the investment terms."
Everyone seems to agree this is reasonable except Wade, who looks like he'd rather shove me back in my rental car and watch me drive away.
"Mason, why don't you start with the barn and stables," Tucker suggests. "Boone, you can cover the pastures and herd. Wade—"
"I need to check the east fence," Wade interrupts. "Colt can help."
"The fence can wait an hour." Tucker's voice is gentle but firm. "You know what? Wade, you should take Sierra through the main operations. You know this ranch better than anyone."
For a moment, I think Wade might actually refuse. His jaw works, hands flexing at his sides. Then he gives a sharp nod.
"Fine. Come on." He doesn't wait to see if I follow, just heads for the door.
I glance at Tucker, who gives me an apologetic look, then hurry after Wade's retreating form.
This is going great. Just spectacularly well.
Wade's already outside by the time I catch up, his long strides eating up ground toward the barn. I have to practically jog to keep pace.
"So," I say, slightly breathless. "How long have you been working at Promise Ranch?"
"Twenty-three years."
"Wow. That's—"
"Frank took me in when I was sixteen. Gave me a job, a place to stay, a purpose. This ranch is everything to me." He doesn't slow down, doesn't look at me. "Just so we're clear on what's at stake."
The implication is obvious: *Don't screw this up.*
We reach the barn, and Wade pulls open the large sliding door. The smell of hay and horses washes over me, earthy and strong. It's not unpleasant, just different from anything I'm used to.
"This is where we keep the horses," Wade says, his tone suggesting he's explaining something to a particularly slow child. "We've got fifteen total. Working horses, mostly quarter horses. That's Ranger." He nods toward a stall where a brown horse watches us. "He's mine."
I approach the stall slowly. "He's beautiful. Can I...?"
"Don't get too close if you don't know what you're doing. He's gentle, but he's still twelve hundred pounds of animal."
I stop, stung. "I wasn't going to do anything stupid."
"Didn't say you were. Just stating facts." Wade moves down the line of stalls, pointing at horses and rattling off names and details. "We use them for herding, checking fence lines, reaching parts of the property vehicles can't access. In the winter, they're essential."
I take notes on my phone, trying to keep up. He's talking fast, clearly trying to overwhelm me with information. Testing me.
"How much land do you have total?" I ask.
"Two thousand acres. Half pasture, half forest and rough terrain. We run about three hundred head of cattle, mostly Angus. Sell the calves at market, keep the breeding stock." He pauses at the barn door, finally turning to look at me. "It's simple in theory. Hard as hell in practice."
"I don't expect it to be easy."
"Don't you?" His eyes narrow. "You flew in this morning. Probably stayed in a nice hotel last night. Rented a car with heated seats. You're going to invest money you didn't earn in a business you don't understand, and you think that makes you part of this?"
The words hit like slaps. I feel my defenses rising, the familiar shame that always comes when someone points out my privilege.
"You're right," I say quietly. "I didn't earn this money.
My father died and left it to me. I didn't have to work in a barn at sixteen.
I went to college. I had opportunities you probably didn't." I meet his eyes.
"That doesn't mean I can't learn. Or that I don't respect what you do here.
And it definitely doesn't mean my money isn't just as green as anyone else's. "
Something flickers in his expression: surprise, maybe. But it's gone in an instant.
"Come on. I'll show you the cattle."
We walk in silence toward the pastures. The land really is beautiful out here, rolling and green with mountains standing guard in the distance. I can see why Frank loved it. Why they all love it.
Why they're terrified of losing it.
"The east fence that you need to check," I say. "That's one of the critical repairs Rhett mentioned?"
"One of many. Fencing, irrigation system, barn roof, equipment that's held together with duct tape and prayer.
" He climbs onto a fence rail, gesturing at the cattle grazing nearby.
"See those? That's our livelihood. We take care of them, they take care of us.
It's not complicated. But it requires constant work, constant vigilance, constant money we don't have. "
"What would you do if you had the capital?" I ask. "Not just to fix what's broken, but to improve operations?"
He's quiet for a moment, and I think he might not answer.
Then: "Better irrigation in the south pasture.
We lose grass every summer because we can't water efficiently.
New equipment. The tractor's on its last legs.
Upgrade the breeding program, maybe bring in some new bulls to improve the genetics.
" He pauses. "And I'd pay the staff we've had to let go over the past two years.
Good people who needed work, and we couldn't afford to keep them. "
There's pain in his voice when he mentions the staff. Real pain.
"That's what the investment is for," I say. "To give you breathing room to do those things."
"At what cost?" He jumps down from the fence, landing with ease. "You want fifteen percent. That's fifteen percent of every decision, every profit, every loss. That's fifteen percent of Frank's legacy in the hands of someone who might decide ranching is too hard and bail."
"I won't bail."
"You say that now. Wait until you've been up since four feeding cattle in February.
Until you've watched a calf die because you couldn't afford the vet.
Until you've worked sixteen-hour days for weeks and still can't make the numbers add up.
" His voice is rough. "This life isn't pretty.
It's not a business plan. It's blood and sweat and heartbreak.
And we're about to hand part of it to you based on what? Hope?"
I don't have an answer that will satisfy him. How can I? He's right. I don't know what this life is like. I can't promise I won't fail, or get discouraged, or realize I'm in over my head.
All I have is the desperate need to prove I'm capable of something that matters.
"My father believed in me," I say finally.
"He was the only one who ever did. And then he died, and everyone else—my mother, my sisters, the lawyer, half the people who knew him—they all said he was wrong.
That I'm too impulsive, too inexperienced, too much and not enough at the same time.
" My voice cracks slightly. "I can't bring him back.
Can't prove it to him. But I can honor what he saw in me by doing something real.
Something hard. Something everyone thinks I'll fail at. "
Wade stares at me for a long moment. "And if you do fail? If this ranch goes under because we took your money, and it wasn't enough? What then?"
"Then I'll have failed trying, which is better than never trying at all."
He shakes his head, but I catch something in his expression. Not agreement, but maybe the tiniest fraction of understanding.
"Come on," he says. "I'll show you the rest."