“What’s a jackpot, exactly?”
“It’s like a rodeo with just one event, and the teams get more chances to compete. There are several go-rounds, or heats, I guess, and the guys can pair up in different combinations. Fifty guys can make up two hundred teams, or more. It gives everyone more chances to win.”
“It sounds like a good idea.”
“I think it is, if we can pull it all together. It’ll take some money, which Dad doesn’t really have. I’ll get a chance to test it with the barrel-racing series.”
“Well, I’m a new vet in town. I could use some publicity, so how about I donate free vet services for the winner? One hundred and fifty bucks’ worth.”
Vivi Ann had never thought of sponsorship, but now that he’d said it she saw how natural a fit it was. She could get gift certificates from all kinds of local vendors to supplement her prizes. The feed store, the tack shop, the boot maker. “I’d say that’s an ice-cream-worthy idea. Come on.” She grabbed his hand and led him into the kitchen.
“Ice cream and beer? Does that go together?”
“Ice cream goes with everything. And thanks to Winona, we’ve got every flavor.” She opened the freezer, revealing at least seven quarts of ice cream.
He looked them over. “Chocolate cherry.”
“Perfect.” She got his flavor and hers and scooped out two bowls. Then they went back into the living room.
“I was right. This beer tastes like crap now.”
She grinned at him. “Don’t worry. The ice cream won’t last long.”
“Will you have another beer with me?”
“Just try to stop me, Doc.”
All that week, while Winona saw clients and read contracts, she thought about the future of Water’s Edge. As much as she wanted to dismiss Vivi Ann’s idea out of hand, she couldn’t quite do it. Neither, however, could she embrace it, and on top of all of that indecision lay the irritating fact that she hadn’t come up with the idea. In many ways, it should have been obvious. Finally, at eight o’clock in the evening she gave up and drove over to the ranch.
Knocking once, she went into the quiet house. A lamp in the kitchen was on; another one in the living room cast light on the plaid, skirted sofa and wagon wheel coffee table. She moved forward, crossed the honeyed oak floor, and stepped onto the oval blue rag rug that had been in this room for the whole of her life. “Dad?”
She heard the rattling of ice and saw him in his study, staring out across the backyard to the purple and black Canal beyond. She’d expected to find him there; it was where he always stood when he was unhappy. For the entire first year after Mom’s death, he’d practically been rooted to that very spot. Only Vivi Ann, who’d never been afraid to take his hand and tug, had ever been able to make him move.
“Dad?”
He took a sip of his bourbon, and without turning said, “You come to tell me what to do with my own land?”
She knew right then how this would play out. He’d made his mind up and chosen Vivi Ann—again. Big surprise. Now Winona could either get on board or be shut out. It was an easy decision. “I’ve got money in the bank. It’s probably enough for the steers and a bigger tractor. The chutes don’t cost that much. Materials, mostly. We’ve got plenty of friends who’d be happy to help us build them.”
He turned slowly to face her. “You want me to take your money?”
She couldn’t tell if she’d touched him or offended him. Or maybe both. “Water’s Edge is all of us, Dad.”
She waited for him to answer, say something, anything, but he just stood there. It was one of a thousand times in her life she wished she knew him better. “At the very least, I can help. I can manage the finances, pay the bills. And I’ll do the hiring. Vivi Ann makes the worst hiring choices I’ve ever seen. That Travis Kitt is a joke . . . and people in town are talking about how stupid it was to hire him.”
“That’s what they’re sayin’?”
Winona nodded. “About the money—”
He gave her a hard look; there was something behind his eyes, a darkness that could mean anything—regret, sadness, anger. She didn’t know, had never known, how to read his face. It was something Mom would have done someday, defined him for them, put him in some kind of context. Without that lesson, they had all been left in murky water, and Winona most of all. Before she could guard against it, worry tightened her stomach. She couldn’t help thinking that she’d been wrong to offer her money to him.
“I ain’t gonna take money from my daughter.”
“But—”
“Go talk to Luke. He’ll let us run steers on his land. See what he wants to charge us. And hire someone who’ll stay. Make sure he knows his way around horses.”
Before she could even come up with an answer, he was leaving her, just walking away.