Page 11 of One in a Million
“I was hoping you were about to tell me.”
“Frank and I always shared, even in the rocky times. Frank would be heartbroken if he knew the horses weren’t going to thrive and continue to win. But I can’t do the job myself. I don’t have the skill or the time.” Pausing, she took a breath. “That’s why I’m asking you to come back and manage them—for me.”
Roper’s heart lurched. This could be everything he’d wanted from the beginning. But he knew better than to appear too eager.
“That’s a pretty tall order,” he hedged. “So what’s in it for me?”
She studied him, as if gauging the effect of her next words. “Twice what Frank was paying you, plus you’d be free to compete under the name of the ranch—and keep your share of any prize money you win.”
Roper gave the offer time to settle in. Frank had paid him a decent wage along with a bonus whenever one of the horses Roper had trained scored in the money. Doubling that amount over time would pay off the debts on the McKenna Ranch with enough left over to remodel the family home and build a new covered arena. Lila’s offer was almost too generous to be trusted. But this wasn’t about money. It was about hunger—hunger for the chance to show the Culhane horses in the big reining events—like the Cactus Classic, the derbies for four- and five-year-olds, and even the Run for a Million.
He imagined the pulse-pounding thrill of galloping an exquisitely trained horse around the arena, sliding to a stop in a cloud of grit, finishing with a neat rollback, then riding out of the gate to the cheers of the crowd, knowing that he and the horse had given their all for that one perfect moment in time.
He wanted to win—wanted it so much that even the thought triggered a burst of adrenaline in his gut.
Roper could think of uncounted ways this adventure could turn out badly. If he were to take her offer, he might be selling his soul to the devil. But winning had its price—and that price was risk. Embrace that risk, and he could end up with everything he’d ever wanted. Play it safe, and he could miss his last chance.
But Lila wasn’t out to do him any favors. Her kind of woman, as Rachel might have put it, would use him until he’d served his purpose, then discard him and leave him in the dust, unless he could manage to outsmart her. In this game, only one thing was certain: if he decided to play, he couldn’t afford to let her win.
She stroked her hair back from her face, the gesture tightening her silk blouse against her breast. In the moonlight, Roper glimpsed the outline of her lacy bra through the sheer fabric. He tore his gaze away. This wasn’t about lust. It was about power—a duel of wits.
“What do you say? I’m not going to ask you a second time.” Her eyes were like a cat’s, focusing on small prey in the dark.
“Your offer’s tempting.” He weighed every word. “But how do I know I can trust you?”
“Because I need you.”
“Go on.”
“These are perilous times. The house or the stables could burn down tomorrow. And if this drought lasts much longer, the bottom will drop out of the beef market.
“Real estate can be rebuilt. Livestock can be replaced and sold when the market recovers. But the horses—they’re the heart and soul of the Culhane Ranch—the treasure and spirit, raised on Culhane grass and wearing the Culhane brand. They’re irreplaceable—the bloodlines, the breeding, the drive to win, the instincts that can’t be taught. Look at One in a Million. Once he’s gone, there’ll never be another horse like him. Darrin doesn’t understand that. Neither does Jasmine. But Frank did. And I think you do, too.”
“So you want me to do my old job—but you’ll be my new boss.”
“No, there’s more,” she said. “I’ve watched you ride. You’re better than Frank ever was—and Frank knew it. That was why he wouldn’t allow you to compete as a condition of your work. He wanted the golden spotlight all on him. The thing he feared was that you would beat him in the arena with thousands of people watching and a million-dollar prize on the line.
“Now that he’s gone, there’ll be an open vacancy in the lineup for the Run for a Million. According to the rules, a family member could take Frank’s place. But no one else in this family can ride well enough. You’d have to win on your own. There’s one big event left, the open shootout in Scottsdale next month. It was scheduled as a derby. But with Frank’s passing, it’s been opened up to horses of any breed and age. Win there, take Frank’s spot, and you’ll be in line for the biggest prize in reining.”
Roper did some mental math. The odds didn’t look good, not even on a great horse.
“Whoa, you’re forgetting something,” he said. “When word about that vacancy gets out, the best riders in the world—the ones who didn’t make the final sixteen—will be fighting for that spot. If you think that I can just—”
“I’m not a fool.” Her coppery eyes blazed with determination. “I’m not expecting miracles from you. Just show up. Raise the banner of Culhane Stables. Be seen. Be noticed. And for God’s sake, if you can, win something. If you’re about to turn me down, then you’re not the man I thought you were—maybe not even half the man.”
The challenge was too much. Mentally crossing his fingers, Roper made his decision.
“Then I have just one question.”
“Ask.” Tension seemed to radiate from her body, charging the molecules of the air around them.
“Just this,” he said. “When do we start, Boss?”
Amusement tightened her lush mouth. “As early as you can show up in the morning. Be ready for anything, especially if it looks, sounds, and smells like Darrin. If he gets in your way, I’ll back you. Pack some essentials in case you have to stay over. I’ll draw up a contract and have it ready to sign after you get there. Oh—you might need this.” She took an object from the cupholder mounted on the dash and thrust it toward him. It was a remote control device, like the one he’d tossed over the gate when he’d left the ranch earlier.
“How much trouble should I expect from your stepson?” Roper asked, recalling that morning’s encounter with Darrin. “After this morning, something tells me I won’t be welcomed back into the fold.”
“I could tell you that Darrin’s bark is worse than his bite,” Lila said. “Mostly that would be true. But you challenged his manhood this morning. Expect anything.”