Page 165 of Saddle and Scent
Every head turns toward the source of the comment, and I feel my heart skip several beats as I recognize the speaker.
Beckett's father, Thomas Ford, emerges from behind the crowd with the kind of deliberate presence that immediately commands attention. But he's not alone. Behind him walks a woman I recognize as Sarah Mitchell, the mayor of the neighboring town, along with four other people in various professional uniforms that speak to official authority—business suits, police uniforms, and what appears to be military dress.
They move through the crowd with the coordinated precision of people who've planned this moment carefully, their collective presence transforming the atmosphere from community confrontation to something that feels more like an official proceeding.
"Mr. Steele," Thomas says when he reaches a position where his voice will carry to the entire gathering, "if you had done proper research into the founding families of Saddlebrush Ridge, you would have discovered some interesting historical details."
Marcus's expression shifts from confused anger to wary attention as he realizes he's no longer dealing with simple small-town resistance.
"Many people have forgotten," Thomas continues, his voice carrying the kind of authority that comes from years of community leadership, "that Michael R. Carter was the original founder of Saddlebrush Ridge. He was also the first investor in the regional oil, flour, and wheat businesses that eventually grew into some of the most successful agricultural and energy companies in the Midwest."
A murmur runs through the crowd as people begin connecting historical dots that have apparently been overlooked or forgotten over the generations.
"The Carter family has been quietly managing a multimillion-dollar investment portfolio for decades," Sarah Mitchell adds, stepping forward with the kind of professional demeanor that suggests official backing for whatever is about to be revealed. "Though as of this year, thanks to some particularly shrewd investments in veterinary pharmaceutical companies and animal health technology, they've recently achieved billionaire status."
The revelation hits the crowd like a physical blow, and I feel my own knees go weak as the implications sink in. Every eye in the square turns toward Wes, who's standing there with the same casual confidence he's displayed throughout this entire confrontation, like having access to billions of dollars is just another interesting detail about his background.
"Wait," I breathe, staring at him with growing amazement. "You're... you're actually serious about the ten million?"
He shrugs with the kind of practiced nonchalance that suggests he's been keeping this secret for a very long time.
"What can I say?" he responds with a grin that's equal parts sheepish and satisfied. "I'm good at gambling on stocks and making financial decisions when I'm not busy being a simple veterinarian part-time cowboy."
The casual way he dismisses what most people would consider the defining achievement of their lifetime makes my head spin with questions and implications. But before I can process the full scope of what he's revealed, Marcus's voice cuts through my confusion.
"What?" he roars, his carefully maintained composure finally shattering completely. "You're a fucking billionaire living in this dump? Why not move to the city where it actually matters?"
Wes turns to face him directly, and for the first time since this confrontation began, his expression becomes completely serious.
"Because," he says, his voice carrying across the square with quiet intensity, "the root of my purpose came from this very town. And I was willing to wait however long I needed for her to come back home."
His gaze finds mine across the crowd, and the weight of emotion in his eyes makes my chest tight with feelings I don't know how to process. Because what he's describing isn't just loyalty to a place—it's years of hoping and waiting and building a life around the possibility that I might eventually return to claim my place in it.
He was waiting for me…to return home…
"Saddlebrush has its flaws, sure," he continues, his voice gaining strength as he addresses the entire community. "But every small town does. Nobody is perfect, just like life isn't perfect. But together, as a community, we stand up for what's right. We protect what matters. We take care of each other."
He turns back toward Marcus, and there's something implacable in his posture that suggests negotiations have just shifted into an entirely different category.
"So if you want to counter our offer of ten million, feel free," he says with the kind of calm confidence that comes from holding all the cards. "I've got a few billion to spare as the heir ofthe Carter Empire, and I'm perfectly willing to take this to court if necessary."
The silence that follows his declaration is profound and complete, as if the entire town is holding its breath while Marcus processes the complete reversal of his strategic position.
His face cycles through disbelief, rage, and something that looks like genuine fear as he realizes he's been outmaneuvered by people he dismissed as irrelevant.
For a moment, I think he might actually try to escalate further, might attempt some kind of desperate counterattack against opponents who've just revealed resources he can't match. But then Sarah Mitchell steps forward, and her expression suggests that whatever she's about to announce will end this confrontation permanently.
"Mr. Steele," she says, her voice carrying the kind of official authority that immediately draws attention, "you won't be able to place any offers at all."
Her statement hangs in the air like a sword suspended over his head, and I can see him struggling to understand what she means.
"As of today," she continues, "new federal regulations have gone into effect regarding large-scale property investments and development projects. Any pack-based business venture over one million dollars must include a bonded Omega in the decision-making structure."
She pauses to let the implications sink in before delivering what's clearly the killing blow.
"Our research confirms that Marcus Steele is currently Omegaless, which means any business ventures or property investments he attempts to make are legally invalid under the new regulations."
The revelation hits Marcus like a physical assault, and I watch his face drain of color as he realizes that hisentire development strategy has just been rendered impossible through regulatory changes he apparently didn't see coming.
