CHAPTER 54

west

Y ou could’ve said it was for bull sperm,” I said.

“It ain’t my fault you assumed something else,” Jackson replied, that shit-eating grin on his face widening. I walked alongside him down a sidewalk in Eugene. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to this city. Sure, it was the biggest city near Double Arrow, but we rarely visited it.

And yet, the city wasn’t the weirdest part about the whole damn thing. It was the fact that the container Jackson carried had several vials of bull sperm in them.

“You could’ve fucking said something sooner,” I retorted.

“I could’ve, but it was funnier this way.” Jackass. “I figured after we meet up with Beau, we could go get lunch or whatever. We’ve got the whole day. Mickey’s taking over everything for me. I didn’t feel like rushing back if I didn’t have to.”

Beau Abernathy was a businessman through and through. The exact nature of his business always eluded me. When asked, his answer had always been the same: he did a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Anyone in the ranch business knew who he was, though I wasn’t sure anyone actually knew what Beau did. It just came down to what did you need from Beau or what did Beau need from you.

In this case, apparently, he needed bull sperm from Jackson.

“How the hell did you get hooked up with Beau Abernathy anyhow?” I asked.

“About fifteen years ago, my dad ended our bull breeding program,” he explained. “Harrison wasn’t holding up his weight where the bulls were concerned, and my dad couldn’t keep doing it all. But, he didn’t stop collecting samples—though, he kept that from Harrison. After my dad died, I found out he had an account at the bank here in Eugene. It was more meant for backup income if needed. I have all the certifications for each vial. Every now and then I sell a handful off to keep the ranch going.”

“How often are you selling them off?”

“More so recently than I used to,” Jackson told me, his answer vague as fuck. I frowned. Again, I found myself wondering how bad off the ranch was. I wasn’t blind to some of the shit going on, but I also knew Jackson. He was proud—sometimes to a fault. He always had been. There was a good chance things were much worse than he was letting on. “Anyway, Beau’s decided to get into the bull riding business. He’s opening a top-of-the-line training facility up on the Washington border. I’ve seen it. It’s fucking incredible. I would’ve killed to learn at a place like that when I was younger.”

I made a small sound, not sure what I could add to the conversation.

“He asked if I’d be willing to teach after I retire,” he continued. That was the first I’d heard anything about him retiring.

“Are you planning on retiring?”

“I’ve got maybe a few more seasons left in me at best,” he admitted quietly. “It’s just an age thing. I don’t bounce back the way I used to. My agent wanted me to retire after this upcoming season, especially with my current sponsoring issues. People don’t want a thirty-four-year-old gay bull rider when they can get some fresh twenty-year-old that fits their fucking values and draws in more attention.”

“That’s bullshit,” I said. Older or not, Jackson was still one of the best.

“That’s the business. I want to go two or three more years if I can, but I don’t know. I haven’t decided shit yet.”

“Will you take Beau up on his offer to teach?” I asked. It sounded like a good alternative to keep his career going.

“I can’t. I have the ranch to run.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice—something fleeting and curious. But I didn’t get the chance to dwell on it as we stopped in front of a bustling bar. My heart dropped. I wasn’t ready to sit around in a bar. Jackson must’ve sensed my hesitation because he whispered, “Don’t worry. We ain’t staying. Beau knows that. Just stick close. I’ve got you.”

I trusted him. I just didn’t trust myself.

This was business. I kept that thought in the forefront of my mind as I followed him inside. For mid-day, the bar was active. There was food, drinks, and sports news on random TVs. The smell of greasy food and alcohol filled my lungs, making my stomach turn and my throat ache. My gaze trailed after a waitress and her tray of beer with more longing than I ever wanted to admit out loud.

“Is there anything weirder than walking through a fucking bar carrying bull sperm?” I muttered under my breath. Jackson chuckled but said nothing.

We headed straight out the back door onto the empty patio. I sucked in a breath of fresh air, thankful for the lack of alcohol out here.

“Well, now. Myles and McNamara!” A booming laugh greeted us. “When I heard y’all were back together, I didn’t believe it.”

Beau sat alone at a table with a spread of food and drinks in front of him. He looked every bit of the stereotypical southern businessman that he was from his big belt buckle to his gray cowboy hat that matched his suit. A huge smile took over his face as he stared at us.

“How many fucking people are out there talking about us?” Jackson demanded with a grin. He set the container on the table and crossed his arms.

“The trouble you two shits caused was damn near as legendary as your career,” Beau said. “I got to tell you, boys, it’s impressive you two haven’t landed your asses in jail yet.”

One of us hadn’t. I kept that piece of information to myself.

“Please,” Jackson scoffed. “Y’all are so damn dramatic. We weren’ t that bad.”

“You keep tellin’ yourself that,” he replied. His stare leveled on me, and I shoved my hands in my pockets, squaring off my shoulders as he sized me up. “And you? How you doin’, West?”

“I’m doing all right.” I kept it short and simple.

“The last time I saw you, you were a scrawny thing,” he commented. Was I? When the fuck had I met him? I could recall my dad talking about him but nothing else. “You’re lookin’ good. Still got a thing for those horses?”

“Yes, Sir,” I said with a slight nod.

“You were always real damn good with those horses,” Beau continued. There was a gleam in his eye that made me uncomfortable. “People used to say you had the magic touch.”

”Oh, come on now, Beau,” Jackson interrupted. “You can’t capitalize on everything and everyone.”

”But I can try.” He chuckled. Grabbing his napkin, he wiped his hands as he leaned forward in his seat. “You decide to take me up on that offer yet, Myles? The bull riders you could turn out would be legendary. Your name on my school would draw in the best of the upcomin’ best. Boys would be linin’ up to be trained by Jackson fuckin’ Myles.”

Jackson snorted as if he didn’t believe a word Beau had to say.

“You’ll do just fine without me, Abernathy,” he said. “That right there’s all you need from me.”

“I’ll convince you one day,” Beau replied instead. “Maybe I’ll convince West over here to come train me some prime racin’ horses while I’m at it.”

“Nah, I’m good where I’m at,” I told him. I had no interest in being a part of something like that.

“One day.” He said the words like a promise—like he didn’t believe a damn thing either of us said. “You boys have a good day now. We’ll be in touch, Myles. Our business ain’t done yet. I’ll be watchin’ you this season.”

“I’ll be sure to put on a show just for you, Beau,” he said. “Just let me know if you need more.”

With that, he strode right over to the half fence wrapping around the patio and swung one long leg over it.

“Where the fuck are you going?” I demanded.

“Please,” Jackson scoffed, swinging his other leg over the low fence. “I’m a grown-ass man. I can jump a goddamn fence any time I want. ”

“It’s a wonder your ass hasn’t been arrested yet,” I retorted, shaking my head. Nonetheless, I jumped over the fence after him, grateful to avoid the bar—a fact I had a feeling he was all too aware of.

We found a restaurant across town to stop for lunch. The place was tropical-themed with so many fucking colors it should’ve been illegal, but they had a quiet rooftop section. We sat under a ridiculous pink pineapple umbrella with two plates of burgers and fries.

“So, how bad is it?” I finally gained the courage to ask.

“The burger ain’t bad.” Jackson shrugged. “Fries are a little dry though.”

“You know I ain’t asking about the food,” I said as I pinned him with a glare. He sighed, wiping his hands and sinking back in his chair. “How bad is the ranch doing? Really.”

“When I offered up the forty-seven million for the ranch, that was pretty much everything I have and then some,” he admitted quietly. “I took out a hefty loan to be able to pay you that. The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it to the end of the year without going bankrupt.”

“What the hell happened?” I asked.

“Well, it started when Harrison made a few poor fucking choices with our business money,” he told me. “He never recovered the money and didn’t have the money to put back into the ranch. That left me covering up for his mistakes. But he kept making stupid ass decisions and left me doing nothing but bailing his ass out so the business didn’t tank.

“Then the virus hit the herd and that just continued the spiral. Between vet bills, canceled contracts, employees I couldn’t pay… I’ve been floundering for a while. When Harrison died, I had fucking hoped to pay you off and then downsize the ranch. If I sell off three-fourths of the land, I can recoup my losses enough to at least break even on everything I owe everyone. Without that… well, I’m not moving cattle, the animals all cost money, the employees all cost money, the ranch costs fucking money, and my mom’s retirement facility costs money. I’m bleeding through my savings from bull riding to cover the differences on everything right now.”

Jesus fucking Christ .

“How much did Harrison fucking lose?”

“Harrison gambled away everything he had and kept taking out of business money to pay off loan sharks.”

My chest burned hot, and my temper spiked. Fucking Harrison. He couldn’t get by without screwing anyone over, could he?

“How much is the ranch worth right now?” I sat back in my seat, suddenly not very hungry.

“Nothing,” Jackson said, crossing his arms. “No one wants the cattle—not after the virus shit, which I can’t blame them. The horses aren’t worth shit. Sorry, but they’re more pets than anything else at this point. The only valuable thing I got is the land, but it’s all tied up until the next nine months of Harrison’s trust terms are over. I even asked if I could sell off what I have, but the division of land is tricky. It’s collective land tied up between both our families, which means I need your approval—”

“Tell me where to fucking sign and I’ll sign,” I interrupted.

“—and that can’t happen until the whole situation with the trust is done,” he finished over me. “So, I can’t do shit until everything is officially signed over to me. The sale with Beau should hold me over long enough until bull riding season is over and I’m back in town. After that… I don’t fucking know.”

“Fucking hell,” I muttered. “How much did Harrison gamble away?”

Maybe there was some way I could get him the money back.

“Don’t go down that road, West,” he replied. “There’s no way in hell you or me will ever recoup those losses. Once the next nine months are over, I’ll take the money you didn’t want and pay off the loan I took out. And then I’ll move fast on selling the land. Between that and letting a few people go, I’ll be good. I just have to start over.”

“Pay the loan off now instead of eating the fucking interest,” I said. That much seemed like common sense. He didn’t need the extra debt.

“And what if you decide you want the money you’re owed for the sale?” he countered.

“I already signed the paperwork that says I don’t.”

“I know, but that’s a lot of fucking money. If you change your mind, I don’t have that kind of money sitting around and I don’t know that I could get another loan to cover paying you off. ”

“I don’t want the money, Jackson.” I wouldn’t know what to do with that kind of money. Not really. In theory, the thought of it had been nice but actually having it? I couldn’t fathom it.

“And I like to have my bases covered where I can—”

“Pay the fucking loan off.”

“I won’t—”

“I ain’t taking the fucking money. There’s no point in—”

“Are you staying?” Jackson demanded, cutting me off. The question shut me the fuck up, taking me by surprise. He repeated, “When the year is up, are you staying at Double Arrow?”

“I don’t…” I faltered. I didn’t have an answer—didn’t know how to answer. On one hand, I was getting used to what Jackson and I had going on. I also had Bailey, Thunder Jack, Betty, and the other horses to think about.

But that little voice in the back of my head wasn’t so sure I’d last there. I didn’t know how to make peace with all the shit that had come out of Double Arrow. I wasn’t sure I ever could.

And honestly, I barely knew what I was doing on any given day let alone what came after this whole ranch trust was taken care of.

“That’s what I thought,” he whispered. “It’s fine. I don’t blame you. But we made a deal… you get the money for the ranch and the freedom to go whenever. No one would blame you if you changed your mind and wanted that money. I wouldn’t. But I can’t bank on you not changing your mind.”

“You don’t trust me,” I said. Something about that stung worse than anything else he’d said.

“West,” he rested his arms on the table and leaned closer, “I do trust you. I walked into this thing with you knowing full well that at the end of this year together, you’re going to break my heart. I just know that if anyone deserves every opportunity to start over, it’s you. And that’s why the money will be there for you if you fucking want it. If you change your mind, it ain’t because you’re trying to screw me over. It’s because—and I fucking hope for this—you’ll finally see just how much you fucking deserve the chance at a good life outside of the God-forsaken ranch.”

I swallowed hard, unable to find the words to say a single damn thing. How the hell was I supposed to respond to that?