“How did we do?”
“If the numbers check out and everyone sticks to their purchases, Cheyenne will have enough to not only replace and repair, but she’ll be able to expand.”
“You’re kidding,” I said.
“Not one bit. We did it. Cheyenne’s staying.”
I wasn’t too sure about that statement, but the fact that the community had rallied together like that was astounding. I had been secretly taking up donations all evening from those who weren’t interested in the silent auction products we had to offer, so there was an entire money bucket that hadn’t even been counted yet. Everything had been a massive success, but I still felt a small fluttering of nerves in the pit of my stomach the rest of the night.
I didn’t see the man that had been talking to Cheyenne around anywhere, but I could see her clutching her purse a little tighter than usual. The card he gave her must be in there, and I wondered if she knew how much it appeared to be weighing on her.
Everyone eventually trickled out around midnight while Tif continued to collect for the silent auction items and tally up other donations. I told the chef to have the staff start cleaning up and tearing things down so we’d be ready for business tomorrow. When Tif was done collecting the money, and everyone else was gone, I saw Michael slip his arm around my sister.
“So, how about that drink?” he asked.
“Now? Oh, no, no. I gotta help clean up around here and break down things and—”
“There’s a bar up the road that’s open until 3. It’s my only real competition around here when it comes to drinks. You two have fun,” I said.
“Colt, I gotta help out here,” Tif said.
“No, you don’t. Because he’s got me. Go on, Tif. Have some fun for once. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me to do?” Cheyenne asked.
She looked between the three of us before she finally relented and let Michael whisk her off. I was so happy my sister had finally seen the good in Michael, and I knew he would treat her with care and respect.
If anything because he’d seen what I could do when I wanted to fuck someone up.
“Colt, could I talk to you for a second?” Cheyenne asked.
“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”
“There was a man that approached me tonight,” she said.
“The guy in the suit? I saw him briefly.”
“Ever heard of Second Chances?” she asked.
“Yeah. It’s a massive horse ranch a few counties north. Why?”
“He offered me a job running all their operations,” she said.
I was completely floored. Out of all the scenarios that had run through my head, that one never even came to the forefront of my mind. I searched Cheyenne’s face for any sign as to where the conversation was going, but all she did was study me and how I was reacting.
Which meant I had to keep a lid on how I was feeling so she wouldn’t feel obligated to make her decision based on me.
“He said it starts in February, and it would be a massive opportunity. He’d have places for all my horses, and I’d have a steady wage. Plus, I’d also have a 401(k) as well as medical benefits.”
“That’s a hell of a job; that is almost unheard of in what you do,” I said.
“I know.”
I could tell she was conflicted, and every single part of me wanted to beg her to stay. She’d worked so hard, and she still had no idea how successful the fundraiser had been, but I couldn’t make this decision for her. She had to make it herself, and she had to do it without anyone influencing her decision.
“It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, honestly,” she said. “I wouldn’t have to worry about paying for things or relying on grants and donations to keep things running. My blood pressure would finally be at a normal level, and I think I’d be really happy there.”
I was gripping the edge of the bar as hard as I could to keep from screaming. I was watching a woman I had come to care for and respect debate on whether to stay or leave, and my stomach was tying itself in knots. I wanted to scream at her to stay, to show her the final numbers and the donation bucket just to give her physical proof of the love she was surrounded by. Would she find that farther north? People who revered her so much they were willing to open their own pocketbooks to keep her going?
“You’d be a long way from Green Point,” I said.