Chapter Seven
Marina
Haven’t seen the best part?
My mind can’t imagine what could possibly top this as I look over the land. But before I can ask any questions, the front door opens again.
A woman wearing an apron steps onto the porch first, silver hair pulled neatly in a bun, a bright smile spreading across her face.
Behind her, an elderly man with a weathered face and a posture that suggests he’s spent most of his life working hard follows.
A second man trails behind, taller and broad-shouldered, with the same easy warmth in his expression.
“Here they are,” Charli calls.
Bryce steps away from her and reaches into the truck bed.
“Marina, this is Grandma Evelyn and Grandpa Earl.”
Evelyn gracefully descends the steps to greet us. “Welcome.” She wraps me in a hug like we’ve known each other for years. “It’s so good to meet you.”
I laugh softly as I hug her back. “It’s wonderful to meet you too.”
Earl is next.
He gives me a firm handshake before patting Ryder’s back.
“Any friend of Bryce’s is family here.”
Something about the way he says it makes my chest tighten.
Family.
We don’t really have that.
My dad left when I was young. He remarried a much younger woman, and they live in the Pacific Northwest. I’ve only seen him a handful of times in the last sixteen years.
And my mom … well, let’s just say Ginger Kincade has never exactly been maternal.
She was there, in her own way. Kind of. But mostly, I was raised by my grandparents while Ginger breezed in and out of my life between husbands.
I never doubted that she loved me. Not once. But after Dad left, it was like she had lost more than her husband. She’d lost her anchor. And ever since, she’s been drifting from one thing to the next, always searching for the same sense of stability she once had with him.
I don’t hold that against her. I couldn’t. She’s my mother, and despite everything, I love my crazy, complicated mom.
I just learned early on that loving someone and being able to rely on them aren’t always the same thing, and I hate that my son is now going to have to learn that same lesson.
Charli gestures toward the other man. “And this is my dad, Albert.”
Albert smiles and holds out his hand. “Welcome to Wildhaven, Marina.”
“Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
“That it is.”
Behind me, Ryder has gone completely quiet.
I look down.
He’s staring at Evelyn, and she notices too.
“Well, hello there, handsome,” she says sweetly.
Ryder peeks around my leg.
“This is my son, Ryder.”
Evelyn’s smile grows. “Well, Ryder, are you hungry?”
His head pops up immediately. “Yes, ma’am.”
I bite back a laugh.
“Well, that’s convenient,” Evelyn says. “I just took a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies out of the oven.”
Ryder glances up at me with enormous blue eyes. “Mommy?”
“You can have a cookie.”
He immediately hops around and takes Evelyn’s extended hand.
“A warm cookie and a cold glass of milk, coming right up.”
Earl follows them, whispering that he’ll sneak Ryder two cookies.
Everyone laughs.
“Well,” Albert says, “looks like he’s already settled in.”
Bryce chuckles as he pulls our bags from the truck.
Albert reaches for them. “I’ll take these upstairs.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—” I begin.
“Nonsense.” He takes the bags easily.
“Where are we putting them?” he asks Charli.
“In my old room.”
I look at her. “Your old room?”
She nods. “You and Ryder are staying there this weekend.”
I look at her father. “I hope we aren’t going to be any trouble.”
Albert waves me off as he starts toward the stairs. “Are you kidding? My mother has been looking forward to having a little one in the house ever since Bryce called. She’s been baking for two days.” He winks at me before disappearing into the house.
Charli looks at Bryce. “So, are you ready to give her the grand tour?”
“Absolutely.”
I glance toward the house. “I should probably—”
“Ryder is in good hands,” Charli assures me.
As if on cue, we hear his delighted voice from inside.
“Wow, those are big cookies!”
I laugh. “Okay.” I look at Bryce and Charli. “Lead the way.”
We walk around the side of the farmhouse, past the enormous barn, and I expect the tour to end somewhere among the stables.
Instead, Charli leads us behind the barn, where a narrow path winds through a stand of trees, and the farther we go, the quieter it becomes.
Then the trees open to a large parking lot.
I stop walking.
A massive set of black iron gates stands ahead of us.
Across the top, bold lettering catches the sunlight—Raintree-Storm Rodeo Academy.
I stare at it.
“Welcome,” Bryce says.
I look at him. “This is yours?”
“Ours.” He gestures toward Charli. “The Storm family and me.”
I look beyond the gates.
The property opens into a sprawling complex.
Buildings spread across the land—some rustic, some modern, all beautifully crafted and somehow blending into the ranch around them.
“A rodeo school?”
“Yeah.”
He opens the gate, and I follow them inside.
“I’ve dreamed about this for years,” he says proudly. “I always knew I wanted to do something with the sport after I hung up my bull rope. I just didn’t know exactly what.”
He looks across the grounds. “Then the whole retirement thing became less theoretical.”
I smile faintly. “Funny how that happens.”
I know firsthand how unexpectedly retirement can become a reality.
“Yeah. Anyway, the Storms had the land. I had the finances, rodeo background, and the connections. We partnered up and got to work, bringing the dream to fruition. The school opened last year.”
I stare at him. “That’s incredible, Bryce.”
He grins. “Come on. Let us show you around.”
He starts walking.
The first building is the administrative center. Inside are bright offices, classrooms, and meeting spaces. Everything is clean, modern, and designed specifically for education.
“Classrooms?” I ask.
“Yep. We don’t just teach people how to ride. We teach horsemanship, livestock management, sports psychology, conditioning, safety. Everything a rodeo athlete needs.”
He shows me the student bunkhouses next. Rows of comfortable rooms, common areas, laundry facilities.
Then the staff cabins.
“Those are where the instructors stay.”
I look inside one. It’s a small, open setup with a kitchenette and bathroom. Clean. Comfy.
“They’re nice.”
“They are. Just not designed for a growing boy.”
I glance at him, but he doesn’t explain further.
We keep walking.
He shows me the clinic, fully equipped for both minor treatment and emergencies.
Then the gym.
The sauna.
The stables.
The livestock barns.
The indoor training arena is enormous, as is the open arena beside it. There are barrels set up in one section. Mechanical gates. Bucking chutes. And multiple riding areas designed for different disciplines.
I stand at the rail of the indoor arena, staring. “This is state of the art.”
Bryce leans against the fence. “That’s what we were going for.”
“It reminds me of the training center in Kentucky.” I look across the arena. “I practically lived there when I was a girl. Some of the best training I ever had.”
He smiles. “Then you understand why we built it this way.”
I nod. “I do.”
He watches me for a second. Then his expression changes. “Good.”
I turn toward him. “Why good?”
“Because I have a proposition for you.”
I blink. “What kind of proposition?”
He glances at Charli. She gives him a tiny nod.
Then he looks back at me. “We had a full summer last year. And this year, the demand is even higher.” He gestures around us. “Word got out. We’ve got more students coming than we can comfortably handle with the staff we have.”
I listen.
“Shelby helps whenever she can, but she’s got her responsibilities at Wildhaven Storm. She can’t be everywhere.” He pauses. “We need another instructor.”
Something in my stomach shifts.
“Okay.”
“A professional barrel racing instructor.”
Understanding washes over me, and my mouth opens. “For the summer?”
He smiles. “No. We’re open year-round. Summers just tend to get flooded with teenagers getting out of school. So, we’re in need of a full-time instructor, and I want you.”
I shake my head as my eyes go back to the barrels in the arena.
“The job’s yours if you want it.”
The words echo inside my head.
A job.
Here.
Doing what I know, what I love.
Charli steps closer. “Bryce told me about your situation.”
I turn my attention to her, and she takes my hand.
“I know it’s a big move. Dallas to Wildhaven.”
I swallow.
“But we have a great school system here,” she continues. “And the pay is decent; plus, it includes room and board.”
I stare at her. “Room and board?”
She nods. “The staff cabins are studio-style though, and that won’t work for you and Ryder long term.”
I look between them. “Right.”
Charli smiles. “Bryce and I are moving out of our current cabin after the wedding. We’re moving into our new house.
” She points back toward the farmhouse. “The cabin sits in a private spot behind the main house. It has a living room with a huge stone fireplace, full kitchen, a master suite, and a second bedroom and guest bath. Plenty of room for you and Ryder.”
I try to speak, but no words come out.
“And before you say anything, yes, we’re serious.”
My eyes begin to burn, and I turn away quickly. I don’t want them to see the tears gathering. But I’m sure they do.
They’re offering me a lifeline. A job. A home for Ryder. A connection to my former community. A future. It’s everything we so badly need.
Bryce’s voice softens as he says, “And we have room for Rowdy.”
I close my eyes.
That does it.
A tear slips down my cheek.
“You’d let me bring him?”
“Of course. He’s your family.”
I wipe my cheek quickly. “This is too much, Bryce. I can’t just—”
“You can.”
I shake my head. “It’s too generous,” I say.
He steps closer. “You’re wrong. I’d be getting the most benefit. I have to hire someone. So, why not hire someone I can trust?”
“Not to mention the most qualified person for the job. A world champion? That’s gonna look good on our website,” Charli adds.
I laugh through my tears. “That was a long time ago.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Bryce says, gesturing toward the arena. “How lucky would this school be to have a former world champion teaching the next generation?”
He steps closer. “And you’re right; there’s no shame in waiting tables.
There isn’t.” His voice becomes firm. “But it would be a damn shame for you to spend the rest of your life doing anything other than what you were born to do. And if competing isn’t an option anymore, then you should be mentoring. ”
I glance back at the barrels, the dirt, the rails, and the open space. I can almost hear the sound of hooves pounding beneath me and feel the leather reins in my hands.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything right now,” Charli says as she settles beside me. “This weekend is about you and Ryder being wedding guests. You’re here to meet everyone. Enjoy the ranch. Explore the academy. Get a feel for Wildhaven.”
She leans in and bumps my shoulder with hers. “Talk it over with your little boy and then give us an answer.”
“I’m pretty sure you already won him over. He fell in love the instant he saw the horses and the cattle.”
“And the cookies,” Bryce adds.
“And the cookies,” I agree.
Charli claps her hands. “Good. Our plan is working, then.”
I laugh. A real laugh. The kind I haven’t heard from myself in a while.
I look back at those barrels and think maybe they’re a glimpse at something I thought I’d lost forever.