Page 126 of Shadows of Obsession

Connor had seamlessly resumed control of the sale horses, his expertise evident in every interaction. After a couple of days of gentle encouragement, I had finally mustered the courage to ride again. Thatfirst time back in the saddle, my hands shook so badly I could barely hold the reins. But the familiar rhythm of Choco's gait, the wind in my hair, the simple act of being with horses, it brought a measure of healing to my battered soul, a quiet reassurance that some pieces of my life could still feel whole.

Yet, as the sun dipped each evening and I returned to the house, a restlessness stirred within me. A yearning for more than just recovery, more than simply existing in the protective cocoon Connor and Jaxon had wrapped around me.

I realized I needed purpose. I needed to feel useful again.

I didn't want to remain dependent on Connor's generosity, didn't want to feel like a permanent guest or a burden. I wanted to contribute, to support myself financially, to find a tangible sense of purpose beyond survival.

The seed of an idea had planted itself that first night of Connor's return, when he mentioned the guest cabins to Jaxon in passing. Those words had lingered in my mind, growing, shifting, expanding with each day that passed.

"I have something I want to talk to you about," I began, my voice steady despite the butterflies performing acrobatics in my stomach.

Connor's eyebrows lifted, concern immediately etching his face. He set his phone down, giving me his full attention. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

I knew he assumed something was wrong. After everything that had happened, that was his default.

"Yes, it's just that…" I hesitated, searching for the words that felt just right. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, Connor—your support, your kindness, letting me stay here rent-free for months. But I want to be able to stand on my own two feet, to contribute in a meaningful way. I've come up with an idea I was hoping to run by you."

Connor's features softened, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking slightly. "Alright. Let's hear it."

I could tell he was listening. Really listening.

I leaned forward, excitement rising, words almost spilling over. "Do you remember a few weeks ago when I asked about the guestcabins on the property? The ones sitting mostly empty, except for a few housing ranch hands?"

Connor nodded slowly, curiosity sparking in his expression.

"You mentioned that your dad had envisioned offering vacation experiences, but the idea got shelved with all the focus on show horses and traveling."

"Right," Connor said, confirming. "Dad always said it was a shame to have all that space going unused. Those cabins were built for exactly that purpose."

My words came faster now, excitement building like a tide. "Well, what if we revived that idea, but updated it? We could use Airbnb to rent out the vacant cabins. People are looking for authentic, immersive ranch experiences. They want to disconnect from city life and experience something real, something tangible."

I watched his expression carefully, gauging his reaction. He was listening, fully present, fingers steepled before his face. Encouraged, I pressed on.

"With Sam's horses already on the property, we could include trail rides and riding lessons in the package. It would generate additional revenue to cover the animals' care and expenses, and it would give guests the authentic Western experience they're looking for."

My hands moved instinctively as I painted the picture I'd been envisioning for days. "I would manage the program—oversee lessons, lead the trail rides, handle cleaning and upkeep of the cabins between guests. You wouldn't have to lift a finger except to approve plans and expenses."

The ideas spilled out faster now, a rush of enthusiasm I couldn't contain. "We could transform the cleared foundation where the cabin burned down into a pavilion, add public grills, picnic tables, and a gathering space. Make it feel like a real dude ranch experience, where guests can meet, eat, and enjoy the atmosphere."

I paused, hoping I wasn't talking too fast or that the idea didn't sound crazy.

"And if the venture proves successful," I continued, barely pausing for breath, "we could expand even further. I don't want to presume, but…" I allowed myself a small smile. "I have a hunch that Jaxon, with his not-so-secret love for your UTVs, might be persuaded to lead off-road tours through the woods. You know, if we could eventually invest in a few four-wheelers."

Connor's lips twitched at that, and I knew I'd hit on something he could see Jaxon enjoying.

"You wouldn't have to pay me anything upfront," I assured him, wanting to emphasize I wasn't asking for charity. "The empty cabins are already furnished, so your startup costs would be minimal. You could bank all the profits and reinvest them back into the project as capital grows. We already have all the necessary tack and equipment for Sam's horses. They're calm, well-trained, perfect for beginners. Everything we need is already here; we'd just need to make it happen."

I finally stopped talking, suddenly aware that I'd been rambling. Wiping my clammy palms against my thighs, I watched Connor intently as he mulled over my words, his expression thoughtful and unreadable.

I held my breath, pleading silently for him to say yes, hoping he didn't think this was stupid.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, he met my gaze, and a grin slowly spread across his face.

"Your horses, Anna."

I blinked, confusion washing over me. "What?"

"Sam's horses," Connor clarified, leaning forward in his chair. "They're yours now. I took them in after Sam died, but they don't really fit into my sales operation. They're not show horses I can use. They've just been existing here, maintained but not really utilized."