Page 46 of Whiskey and Wildfire

“Give me a good fucking reason!” Dakota yelled, startling me down to my core.

And the moment his voice reverberated through me, I came unraveled. Everything I’d been trying to hold inside, all the worries and fears about my father and the ranch, came crashing back in an instant. Tears formed in my eyes as I slumped against the porch rail.

“The ranch…” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “We’re gonna lose it.”

Dakota’s anger seemed to deflate instantly, replaced by a mix of confusion and concern. He took a step towards me, his brow furrowed. “What do you mean, lose it? Logan, what’s going on?”

I slid down to sit on the porch steps, my head in my hands. The world was still spinning, but now it wasn’t just from the alcohol. “The bank,” I mumbled. “They’re calling in the loan. We don’t have the money to pay it off. In fact, we’re months behind on the payments now and that’s why they’re putting us in foreclosure. Dad’s been trying to keep it quiet, but...” I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

I heard Dakota’s heavy footsteps approach, then felt him sit down beside me. He was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his body, but he didn’t touch me.

“How long have you known?” he asked quietly.

“Since this afternoon,” I said. “Just before I went to the bar.”

Dakota let out a long, slow breath. “Shit, Logan. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

I shook my head, still not looking up. “I didn’t know how. It’s... it’s everything, Dakota. This ranch, it’s been in my family for generations. Not only that, but it’s your job, your home, and all of my father’s dreams. I couldn’t bear the thought of him finally getting out of the hospital only to find out all he’s ever worked for is…” I choked on the words, unable to finish.

I felt Dakota’s strong hand on my back, a gentle warmth that seemed to anchor me. “Hey,” he said softly. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, I raised my head. Dakota’s brown eyes were filled with concern, the anger from earlier completely gone.

“We’ll figure this out,” he said firmly. “You hear me? We’ll find a way.”

“How?” I asked, my voice cracking. “We’re talking hundreds of thousands of dollars, Dakota. There’s no way we can raise that kind of cash. And no offense, but you’re just a ranch hand. I know you don’t have the money and I sure as hell don’t either.”

Dakota’s hand tightened on my shoulder, his jaw clenching as he stared out into the darkness. For a long moment, he was silent, and I could almost see the gears turning in his head as he processed everything I’d said.

“You’re right,” he said finally. “I don’t have that kind of money. And I don’t know a damn person in this world that does.”

I nodded glumly, the weight of our situation settling heavily on my shoulders. But Dakota wasn’t finished.

“But,” he continued, his voice taking on a determined edge, “I do know cattle. And I know how to work. We’ve got a good herd here, Logan. Maybe... maybe we could organize an early drive. Get the cattle to market sooner than planned. It won’t solve everything, but it might buy us some time.”

I wanted to be hopeful, to tell him it was a good idea. “I’ve already tried that,” I said, shaking my head. “The bank said two weeks or nothing. And we don’t have enough cattle to even come close to meeting the loan amount.”

“Don’t you know anyone back in New York?” he asked quietly. “Anyone that would want to help?”

“The only person I know with that much money is my old boss, and he made it clear he never wanted to see me or Lucas again.” But the moment I said Lucas’s name, I paused. “Maybe…Maybe Lucas has some contacts. He and Beau have been looking for investors to transform the Turner Ranch into a sort of tourist attraction. Maybe they’d be interested in a second location.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Dakota replied with a shrug. “What have you got to lose by trying? I’m not thrilled by the idea of a tourist ranch, but if that’s what keeps this place alive, then so be it.” He stepped close, taking my hand in his. The warmth seeped into me, filling me with hope once more. “This is my home as much as it is yours. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

I felt a lump form in my throat at Dakota’s words. Despite everything - my stupid decision to drink, the fight we’d had - he was still here, still willing to help. I squeezed his hand, overwhelmed with gratitude.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I don’t deserve you.”

Dakota’s eyes softened. “Don’t say that. We all make mistakes, Logan. What matters is how we handle them afterward.”

He pulled me into a tight embrace, and I buried my face in his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent of leather and pine. For a moment, we just sat there in silence, the weight of our situation hanging heavy in the air.

Finally, Dakota pulled back, his hands still on my shoulders. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. First, you’re going to drink some water and get some sleep. That hangover isn’t going to fix itself. In the morning, we’ll call Lucas and see if he can help us out with some contacts. If that doesn’t pan out, we’ll figure something else out. Together.”

I nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time since I’d heard the news about the ranch. “Okay,” I said softly. “Together.”

Dakota stood up, offering me his hand. I took it, wobbling a bit as I got to my feet. He steadied me, his arm wrapping around my waist.

“Come on, cowboy,” he said, a hint of his usual warmth returning to his voice. “Let’s get you to bed.”

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