CHAPTER 34
Anna
"Connor?" I called softly, poking my head into the home office and finding him behind his desk, engrossed in his phone. The familiar sight, him surrounded by paperwork and show schedules, his reading glasses perched on his nose, made me smile despite my nervousness.
At the sound of my voice, he looked up, a warm smile spreading across his face as he waved me in. "What's up?"
I slipped into the room, settling into the worn leather chair across from him, the same chair I'd sat in when I first arrived and learned about some of his horses and his business. My fingers drummed against the armrest as I chewed the inside of my cheek, a nervous habit I couldn't quite shake.
I urged myself to just say it. He wouldn't bite my head off.
The past week since Connor's return had been a challenge, an effort to slip back into normalcy that always felt just out of reach.
My physical healing was progressing; bruising on my face had faded from deep purple to a sickly yellow-green, and the rope burns on my wrists were scabbing over.
But emotional healing was slower, more tangled, more complicated.
Connor had seamlessly resumed control of the sale horses, his expertise evident in every interaction.
After a couple of days of gentle encouragement, I had finally mustered the courage to ride again.
That first time back in the saddle, my hands shook so badly I could barely hold the reins.
But the familiar rhythm of Choco's gait, the wind in my hair, the simple act of being with horses, it brought a measure of healing to my battered soul, a quiet reassurance that some pieces of my life could still feel whole.
Yet, as the sun dipped each evening and I returned to the house, a restlessness stirred within me. A yearning for more than just recovery, more than simply existing in the protective cocoon Connor and Jaxon had wrapped around me.
I realized I needed purpose. I needed to feel useful again.
I didn't want to remain dependent on Connor's generosity, didn't want to feel like a permanent guest or a burden. I wanted to contribute, to support myself financially, to find a tangible sense of purpose beyond survival.
The seed of an idea had planted itself that first night of Connor's return, when he mentioned the guest cabins to Jaxon in passing. Those words had lingered in my mind, growing, shifting, expanding with each day that passed.
"I have something I want to talk to you about," I began, my voice steady despite the butterflies performing acrobatics in my stomach.
Connor's eyebrows lifted, concern immediately etching his face. He set his phone down, giving me his full attention. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"
I knew he assumed something was wrong. After everything that had happened, that was his default.
"Yes, it's just that…" I hesitated, searching for the words that felt just right.
"I appreciate everything you've done for me, Connor—your support, your kindness, letting me stay here rent-free for months.
But I want to be able to stand on my own two feet, to contribute in a meaningful way.
I've come up with an idea I was hoping to run by you. "
Connor's features softened, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking slightly. "Alright. Let's hear it."
I could tell he was listening. Really listening.
I leaned forward, excitement rising, words almost spilling over. "Do you remember a few weeks ago when I asked about the guest cabins on the property? The ones sitting mostly empty, except for a few housing ranch hands?"
Connor nodded slowly, curiosity sparking in his expression.
"You mentioned that your dad had envisioned offering vacation experiences, but the idea got shelved with all the focus on show horses and traveling."
"Right," Connor said, confirming. "Dad always said it was a shame to have all that space going unused. Those cabins were built for exactly that purpose."
My words came faster now, excitement building like a tide.
"Well, what if we revived that idea, but updated it?
We could use Airbnb to rent out the vacant cabins.
People are looking for authentic, immersive ranch experiences.
They want to disconnect from city life and experience something real, something tangible. "
I watched his expression carefully, gauging his reaction. He was listening, fully present, fingers steepled before his face. Encouraged, I pressed on.
"With Sam's horses already on the property, we could include trail rides and riding lessons in the package. It would generate additional revenue to cover the animals' care and expenses, and it would give guests the authentic Western experience they're looking for."
My hands moved instinctively as I painted the picture I'd been envisioning for days. "I would manage the program—oversee lessons, lead the trail rides, handle cleaning and upkeep of the cabins between guests. You wouldn't have to lift a finger except to approve plans and expenses."
The ideas spilled out faster now, a rush of enthusiasm I couldn't contain.
"We could transform the cleared foundation where the cabin burned down into a pavilion, add public grills, picnic tables, and a gathering space.
Make it feel like a real dude ranch experience, where guests can meet, eat, and enjoy the atmosphere. "
I paused, hoping I wasn't talking too fast or that the idea didn't sound crazy.
"And if the venture proves successful," I continued, barely pausing for breath, "we could expand even further.
I don't want to presume, but…" I allowed myself a small smile.
"I have a hunch that Jaxon, with his not-so-secret love for your UTVs, might be persuaded to lead off-road tours through the woods.
You know, if we could eventually invest in a few four-wheelers. "
Connor's lips twitched at that, and I knew I'd hit on something he could see Jaxon enjoying.
"You wouldn't have to pay me anything upfront," I assured him, wanting to emphasize I wasn't asking for charity.
"The empty cabins are already furnished, so your startup costs would be minimal.
You could bank all the profits and reinvest them back into the project as capital grows.
We already have all the necessary tack and equipment for Sam's horses.
They're calm, well-trained, perfect for beginners.
Everything we need is already here; we'd just need to make it happen. "
I finally stopped talking, suddenly aware that I'd been rambling. Wiping my clammy palms against my thighs, I watched Connor intently as he mulled over my words, his expression thoughtful and unreadable.
I held my breath, pleading silently for him to say yes, hoping he didn't think this was stupid.
After a moment that felt like an eternity, he met my gaze, and a grin slowly spread across his face.
"Your horses, Anna."
I blinked, confusion washing over me. "What?"
"Sam's horses," Connor clarified, leaning forward in his chair. "They're yours now. I took them in after Sam died, but they don't really fit into my sales operation. They're not show horses I can use. They've just been existing here, maintained but not really utilized."
My breath caught as I processed his words.
"But you... you're the one who's been caring for them, cleaning their barn, organizing their things, spending time with them.
They belong with you, Anna. They should be yours.
" His smile widened. "And if you want to offer lessons and trail rides to generate some income with your own horses, then you have my full support. "
My horses. The shock and joy of him giving me the horses intermingled, making my eyes sting with sudden tears. "Connor, I can't just—"
"You can, and you will," he interrupted firmly.
"As for the Airbnb idea, I think it's brilliant.
Those cabins are too nice to sit empty, and Dad would have loved knowing they were finally being used the way he intended.
But I don't have the time to manage it or set anything up, I'm stretched thin as it is with the show schedule. "
He stood, came around the desk, and leaned against it in front of me.
"So since it's your brainchild, you'll be the one to bring it to life.
Full creative control. You make the decisions, set the prices, create the listings, manage the bookings.
I'll handle the business registration and insurance side of things, but the rest is yours. "
He was saying yes. He actually believed in this idea.
I nodded vigorously, barely able to contain my excitement as I nearly launched myself around the desk to engulf Connor in a fierce hug. Gratitude and a sense of purpose swelled within me, warming me from the inside out and making my chest feel too small to contain it all.
"Thank you," I whispered against his shoulder, my voice thick. "Thank you for believing in me. For giving me this chance."
Connor's arms tightened around me, and he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "You don't need to thank me, Anna. You're family. And I know you're going to make this incredible."
He understood. He understood how much this meant to me; how vital it was to feel needed and independent. To build something of my own instead of just hiding from my past.
As I pulled back, meeting Connor's proud, supportive gaze, I silently vowed to pour my heart and soul into this new endeavor. To create a future for myself filled with purpose and passion, not just fear and running.
My own business. My own horses. My own future.
With Connor's blessing and the opportunity he had given me, I knew I could build something meaningful—something that would allow me to carve out a place in this world that was truly mine.