Conflicted (Everlasting Love)(4)
He was exactly right, but Jesse wouldn’t admit it. He might be unhappy with the state of affairs on the ranch—and in his marriage—but he wasn’t going to broadcast it. “That’s pretty much the nature of the beast.”
Mike nodded, apparently satisfied at his response. “Exactly.”
“So, that still leaves me in the dark as to why you want to offer me part of your ranch.”
“Not just part, Jesse. I’m willing to offer you one-third of Whistling Winds, turned over to you as soon as you sign the papers.”
“One-third? What the hell do you want from me in return? My firstborn?”
“Hell, no.” Mike laughed again. “I’ve got four kids of my own—I don’t have room for any more. I want you to bring that small stable of horses you’ve developed away from here to breed and train on my ranch. I want those horses, and any others that you breed, buy or train, to run for the W.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“My work is here. My life is here. I’m married to Desiree and I’ve been head trainer on the Triple H for over thirty years.”
“What have you got to show for it?”
He bristled before he could stop himself. “What does that mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Everyone knows Desiree holds the strings on this ranch so tight that you’ll never get a piece of it, whether you’re her husband or not.” He lifted a hand as though to forestall the explosion Jesse felt rising within him. “I can see I’ve touched a sore spot and that wasn’t my intention. Nor am I insulting Desiree. She’s done a hell of a job with this ranch since Big John died. No one can deny that or help being impressed by it.
“But at the same time, we both know this ranch wouldn’t be where it is today if it didn’t have you.”
“Mike—”
“I’m getting old, we both are, and neither of us have time to sit around and blow smoke up each other’s asses. You’re the best trainer in North America, probably in the whole damn world. You’ve got the best eye for horseflesh I’ve ever seen and I need that eye, those skills, for my ranch.
“I’ve got the second-best Thoroughbred ranch in North America—you know it and so do I. I also know that the Triple H is better, and that’s because of you. I don’t want to get between you and your wife, and I’m not asking you to choose. I don’t want you to come to my ranch and train my horses.”
“You want me to come to your ranch and train my horses?” Jesse couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice.
“Exactly.” Mike slapped his hat on his knee again. “And when they win—which we both know they will do—the credit goes to your brand. And mine.”
“Of course. I get one-third of your ranch and you get—”
“The rights to half of your brand. We both know that in three to five years Cherokee Dreaming will be the premier name on the racing circuit. And I have to assume Desiree knows it, too. Yet she hasn’t made you a partner, has barely acknowledged that your stable exists.”
“Mike—”
“I don’t mean any disrespect to your wife, Jesse. God knows I’m not stupid enough to think that’s the way to get you to agree with me. What I’m asking is if you want to be a part of something great. Not just work for a great ranch, but be part owner of one. You’ll have the same freedom with your line that you’ve always had, but you’ll have one hell of a financial backing behind you. You won’t have to stable the line away from the ranch, won’t have to fit in its development in your spare time. It’d be your only focus, your only responsibility and you’d get one-third of the profits brought in to my ranch by any of my horses.”
Mike leaned forward, took a long swallow of his drink. “You’d be a fool to say no.”
Jesse stood, walked slowly to the front window that looked out over the Triple H. This ranch had been his home for the past thirty-three years. Truth be told, Desiree had been his home all these long years. He’d decided weeks ago that he needed to find a new home, when he’d finally figured out that he couldn’t be what Desiree wanted anymore.
He’d made his own plans, had expected to buy an acre or two of land somewhere and train his horses. He’d anticipated staying in Texas because he wanted to be close to his kids. But he’d never imagined an offer like this, had never dreamed of becoming a full partner in a ranch with the stature of Whistling Winds.
How could he have expected a relative stranger to make an offer like this when his own wife had never even considered offering him half as much? He turned, regarding Mike Jacoby through narrowed eyes.
He’d always respected him, had often been impressed with how he ran his ranch. “Still, we both know I’d be a fool to do anything right now.”
Mike smiled as he settled his hat back on his head. “You’re right. It’s a big day for you and Desiree.” He reached for the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket, pulling out a group of folded papers. “Here’s the contract I’ve had drawn up. Look it over, let your lawyer look at it, whatever. Make notes on what you want changed and we’ll negotiate.”
“Look, Mike, I really don’t think this is going to work.”