The Wrangler

“We run cattle here, too,” Gigi said. “It’s how we keep the place afloat. We might be rich in land, but we have to make ends meet somehow. Some years, it’s not easy what with the cattle market being up and down. We’ve thought about selling some of our land, but then what would we do with the horses?”

That wasn’t true. That wasn’t true at all, but if Sam here was after Clint’s wealth, like Julia had been, Gigi wanted to know about it. So she watched Sam’s face closely for signs.

She just looked sad.

“Have you ever thought about setting up a trust for the horses?” Sam asked. “You know, maybe gather together some private investors. I’ve met a lot of wealthy people—through showing horses—and so I could probably coordinate it all. That way, when money is tight, you wouldn’t have to worry about caring for the horses again.”

“No,” Gigi said honestly. Because in truth the Baers were wealthy. Very wealthy. They’d sold land over the years, invested it. Yes, they lived simply, hadn’t remodeled the house in the past fifty years, or added expensive horse barns or flaunted their wealth. No need for that. They kept to themselves.

“I’d like to help,” Sam said, “if you’ll let me. Horse people are great. If I tell them I need money for wild mustangs, they’ll be onboard. It’ll be a tax write-off for them. That’ll be a plus. And if they donate money we could generate annual income. That income would grow over the years. You guys would never have to worry about taking care of your horses again.”