Page 58 of Lost in the Reins

"Dad also said never to trust anyone who hasn't worked the land," I counter, but the argument feels hollow even to my ears.

"Times change, Wes." Colt's voice carries that same steady patience Sarah used to have. "Maybe we need to change with it.”

"What about the heritage tourism angle?" Jake persists, pacing now. "The festival's bringing attention. Paisley's connections in Manhattan?—"

"Don't." I clench my jaw, fighting back the wave of emotion her name brings. "She's got her own life to get back to. The ranch isn't her problem."

“It could be," Colt says quietly. "If you'd let it. She understands marketing and has publishing contacts. The kinds of people who'd pay good money for an authentic ranch experience."

"And she cares about this place," Jake adds, his voice softer now. "About Emma. About..." He hesitates, then finishes, "About all of us."

"She cares because she doesn't know the truth." I spread out more papers—bank statements, feed bills, medical expenses that seem to multiply every time I look at them. “She doesn't know we're one bad season away from losing everything."

"Then tell her." Colt leans forward, his eyes intent. "Let her make her own choice."

"What choice?" I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "Stay and watch this place crumble? Give up her career for a failing ranch and a man who can barely keep the lights on?"

"You're not Dad," Jake says suddenly, stopping his pacing. "And this isn't fifteen years ago. You don't have to carry everything alone."

His words stop me cold. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Colt interjects, his voice gentle but firm, "that maybe Sarah was right. About diversifying, about bringing in new ideas. About letting people help."

"Sarah's dead." The words come out raw. "And all her plans, all her dreams for this place... they died with her."

"No." Jake's voice cracks with emotion. "They didn't. They're right here, in what Paisley's trying to do. In how she sees this place, just like Sarah did. As more than just cattle and land."

Through the window, I catch a glimpse of Paisley walking with Emma toward the barn, their heads bent together in some secret conversation. They're both laughing, the sound carrying faintly through the glass. Emma's got Sarah's laugh—full and bright and unafraid.

My throat tightens.

"Remember what Sarah used to say?" Colt asks quietly. "About how the ranch isn't just about keeping things the same, but about building something that lasts?"

"And what happens when those contacts dry up?" I counter, but my voice lacks conviction. "When the novelty wears off and we're still drowning in debt?"

"Then we adapt." Jake sits back down, his expression fierce. "Convert the old bunkhouse into luxury accommodations. Run cattle drives for tourists. Hell, even Bernard could earn his keep giving dramatic performances."

Despite everything, a laugh escapes. "You want to turn our guard goose into an entertainer?"

"Why not?" Jake's grin is desperate but determined. "Sarah always said he had star potential."

"She also said we were too stubborn for our own good." Colt picks up the bank notice, studying it like it might reveal new secrets. "What about a partnership with the Wilson spread? They've been wanting to expand their breeding program?—"

"Already talked to them." The words taste like defeat. "They're struggling, too. Everyone is.”

“So, we get creative." Jake stands again, restless energy radiating from him. "Split the property into parcels, lease out the hunting rights, maybe even that wild horse tourism thing Sarah was researching before—" His voice catches on our sister's name, and silence falls heavy as mountain snow.

"You know what Sarah told me?" Colt's voice breaks the quiet. "Right before... before the accident. She said the ranch's biggest threat wasn't the weather or the market or even the bank."

I look at him, catching something in his expression I've never seen before. "What was it, then?"

"Fear." He meets my eyes steadily. "Fear of change. Of letting go of how things have always been done. She said sometimes holding on too tight is what makes you lose your grip completely."

The words settle into the kitchen like truth, heavy and unavoidable. Through the window, Paisley and Emma have reached the barn. I watch as Emma demonstrates something—probably one of Bernard's latest dramatic episodes—and Paisleythrows her head back laughing. The sight makes my chest ache with wanting and fear in equal measure.

"What about Emma's college fund?" Colt asks quietly. "We could?—"

"No." The word comes out like a whip crack. "That's Sarah's money. For Emma's future."

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