Page 17 of Careless Hope

“Got fire, sure,” Gray conceded with a grunt, “but what about staying power? It ain’t just about having ideas; it’s about seeing them through.”

“Gray’s got a point,” Sutton chimed in, her voice as smooth as the icing on her famous cinnamon rolls. “But Walker’s been showing up, day in and day out. He’s more than earned a shot at this.”

“Showing up for chores is one thing,” Gray replied, his eyes not leaving mine. “Running a business is another.”

“Then let me learn,” I retorted, my hands finding the edge of the table, gripping it as if it could anchor me in this storm of doubt. “You weren’t born knowing how to run Red Downs, were you?”

“Sure wasn’t,” he admitted, folding his arms over his chest. “Took years of learning and a fair share of mistakes.”

“Then let me make mine,” I urged, feeling the weight of our heritage pressing down on me. “Let me help carry this legacy.”

“Responsibility means being the first one to rise and the last one to hit the hay,” Gray said, his blue eyes piercing. “Can you do that, Walker? Can you put the ranch before everything else—before the rodeo nights and finding hookups at the bar?”

“Ranching’s in our blood,” I answered, lifting my chin defiantly. “And I’m ready to prove it. Not just with words but with action.”

Gray studied me for a long moment, his gaze searching. I met it head-on, the flicker of hope burning bright within me.

“Alright then,” he finally said, his voice low but not unkind. “Prove it.”

The silence that followed Gray’s challenge hung heavy in the air, like a thundercloud ready to burst. I stared at him, my jaw clenched tight enough to grind dust from my teeth. It felt like he’d saddled me with a weight heavier than any steer I’d ever wrangled. The hurt dug in deep, festering like a thorn in my side.

“Prove it, huh?” I muttered, feeling the sting of his doubt. “Sure thing, big brother. I’ll prove it.”

“Boys,” Mom’s voice cut through the tension like a knife through warm butter. She held up her hands like a peacekeeper. “Let’s not spoil supper with an argument.”

Gran shuffled back into the room, her eyes sharp despite the wrinkles framing them. She had a knack for stepping into a fray at just the right moment. “What’s this ‘bout proving now?” she asked, peering from beneath her spectacles.

“Gray here doesn’t think I can handle more than mucking stalls,” I said, trying to keep my tone light but failing.

“Aw, come on, Walker,” Sutton chimed in, purposely keeping her tone lighter than normal. “He just wants to make sure you’re not biting off more than you can chew. Like that time with the chili cook-off.”

Laughter bubbled up around the table, and even I cracked a smile remembering the incident. But it faded quick, replaced by the sour taste of Gray’s skepticism.

“Thanks, Sut,” I said dryly, “for the support.”

“Gray’s got a point, though,” Damon added, scratching his stubbled chin thoughtfully. “You’ve got spirit, Walker, but running a business is tough. Taking care of people, managing finances—it ain’t all sunshine and rodeos.”

“Yeah, and it creates more work for everyone. Not just the physical work, but have you thought about what all that extra business means for Mason? Man’s already crushed under the weight of his spreadsheets.”

“I’ve talked about it with Mason at length. I’m not afraid to do some math.”

“It’s not as easy as all that,” Damon said.

“Since when did y’all become a bunch of naysayers?” I asked, but my voice lacked the punch I wanted. I knew they were justlooking out for me, for the ranch, but it didn’t make the words any less bitter.

“Nobody’s saying you can’t do it,” Mama interjected, her voice steady as she dished out seconds on her plate. “We all just want to make sure you’re ready for the commitment it takes.”

“Commitment,” I echoed. That word again, tying me down like a lasso. I rubbed at the back of my neck, feeling the heat rise. “I’m committed. I’m ready for commitment.”

“Then show us, son,” Gran said, her gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that belied her small frame. “Show us all.”

The room was quiet then, save for the clinking of silverware and the occasional scrape of a chair. They were waiting, watching me with a mix of hope and hesitation. I drew in a long breath, willing my pride to step aside.

“Alright,” I said, finally breaking the silence. “I’ll show you. I’ll show everyone what I can do when I set my mind to it. I’m not waiting around for permission anymore. I’m gonna take what I want. Make it mine.”

More silence. And then a grunt.

“Good,” Gray replied, giving a curt nod. “That’s what I want to hear.”

---