Reese sipped his tea. “They seem pretty solid to me. I’ve met vets on the street who are in a lot worse shape.”
“They’ve come a long way,” Shay said, emotion in her tone. “I’m so proud of them. Noah is building a good horse training business. Harper has skills with electrical and plumbing that bring us in really good money. Right now, he’s putting a lot of what he earns by working toward his paramedic degree from the local college. He was a Navy combat corpsman in Afghanistan. He’s wanting to get the two-year degree so he can hopefully be hired by the Wind River Fire Department afterward. That would give him a steady income. Garret knows construction and running heavy equipment. He rents himself out to do small jobs around the valley for us.”
“And their work contributes financially to the ranch?”
“Yes.”
“Garret’s one hell of a cook. Maybe he missed his calling.”
Shay smiled a little. “He loves to cook, but he’d never want to be hired as one. A restaurant kitchen would be way too enclosed and stressful on him. He can’t handle small, confined spaces. But he does well here at the ranch and we’re the lucky recipients of his skills.”
His mouth crooked. “That enclosed spaces thing. We all have it, more or less.”
“To a person,” Shay agreed.
“And are you figuring that once you get that indoor arena up, that Noah can start taking on a lot of new clients for horse training?”
“Yep. That arena will serve us in so many different ways.” She sighed. “I worry about getting it up before winter comes, though. Around here, that’s early, mid-September. It’s been known to snow in August, which I hope doesn’t happen this year.”
Moving the spoon slowly between his fingers, he asked, “Have you thought about a barn-raising?” He saw her brows move up a bit. “You know? In the old days when a rancher or farmer needed a barn built, the surrounding community would all come together for several days. They’d all work together, bring food and family, camp out, and get the job done.”
“No,” Shay admitted, “I hadn’t thought in that direction.”
“Might be worth a shot?”
Sitting back, Shay raised her eyes to the ceiling, thinking. “I have an appointment with Maud Whitcomb tomorrow at noon. We’re going to have lunch at Kassie’s Café and I’m going to ask her about getting some of her buffalo meat at a wholesale price.” Shifting her gaze to him, she said, “Garret said we need more protein-rich food in our diet, and I don’t disagree. You guys need that kind of nutrition, but I just don’t have enough money to buy beef, which is ungodly expensive. Maud donates her buffalo meat to several local charities, so I’m hoping she’ll sell me some. At least I could pay her something, and not ask for a handout.”
“You don’t like asking her for help?”
Shay sighed. “It’s hard for me, Reese, but all I have to do is think about these guys, what they’ve gone through, how they suffered, and I can easily go ask for help. Maud will give me buffalo meat at a low price, I’m sure. She hires military vets over at her ranch, too, and she’s got a heart of gold. She’s the maven here in the valley, well liked, respected, and has the richest spread around. Maud is super active in charities and helping other ranchers here in Lincoln County. Her husband, Steve, is a world renowned architect. She runs the ranch. He creates amazing buildings in many different countries.”
“I don’t know if I could do what you do,” Reese confided gently. “I was never any good at asking for help.” He shrugged. “Pride, I guess . . .”
Shay reached out, briefly touching his lower arm. “You don’t have to ask for anything. That’s my job, Reese. And I don’t mind doing it. I’m not asking for myself, but I’m asking for all of you, so it’s a lot easier for me to do it. I’m great at fighting on behalf of underdogs.”
“Still,” Reese murmured, “it’s stressful.”
“Life is full of stress. So what’s new?” Shay gave him a sad smile.
“You mentioned last night your father had a savings account with his retirement in it.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve never thought about dipping into that account to help get the ranch on a more stable long-term footing? Then paying it back over time?”
“God, no,” she said fervently. “When I came home, the first thing my father told me was that the account was off-limits. And I agreed with him. It took him thirty years to save for his retirement.”
“I’m trying to find it in the ledgers. Do you know what the amount is?”
“You won’t find it in there. My father insisted on keeping the book for that account with him at the nursing home. I don’t think he trusts me with it. He’s probably afraid I’ll dip into it and steal from the fund, to support the ranch. I would never do that, but he thinks differently. And to answer your question, there’s 195,000 dollars in his savings account.” She saw Reese’s eyes widen a little. “It’s a lot of money, but if you consider it took him thirty years to put that away, I think he did pretty good.”