“We got a new horse.”
Ethan kept his focus on rebuilding the portion of fence that kept collapsing. Harper stood to the side, hands tucked in the back pockets of her jeans, an intent look on her face. Flower, a sweet little gray filly, trotted over to push her nose to the back of Ethan’s neck, insisting on attention. When he refused to give either female what she wanted, they both let out an irritated snort.
“Are you going to answer me?” the human one demanded.
“Good for you. A potential sale or racing investment?” His sister had been dabbling with various horses for the racing industry, but she was set on finding the proper trainer and horse to match. So far, nothing had given her what she needed.
“Not sure. He’s a Thoroughbred. Saved him from the slaughterhouse.”
“Must be a bad one.”
“He is. A real pain in the ass. Black as midnight, with lighthearted hooves meant for running and eyes like fire. But he’s messed up inside. Too many ghosts to flush out before we see the potential.” She paused delicately. “He needs some help.”
Ethan picked up the hammer and began resecuring the posts and wood. No way. He refused to engage in his sister’s plot. Once, a long time ago, he’d had a gift but decided to pursue saving humans instead of horses. He’d failed spectacularly and wasn’t about to take on a new project. Not in his current state.
The nightmares still came. His leg still throbbed. He’d gotten off the phone last night with Billy—an old teammate—and had been plagued by what-ifs and a pool of regrets. Being responsible for a broken horse would not be good for him right now.
Being responsible for anyone would be a huge mistake.
Seems his sister disagreed.
“Ethan, I need help.”
He dropped the hammer in frustration and swiped at his brow. “Harp, I can’t help you with a fucked-up horse. I’m not the kid who once believed he could change things.”
“Bullshit. You’re just scared to try. Just meet him. Please. Give him an assessment. An idea of what to do that may help. That’s all I’m asking.”
They glowered at each other in a pissed-off sibling contest they were masters of. “Fine, but I’m not promising anything. Don’t put me in some screwed-up role as horse whisperer. I’m no fucking Redford.”
She made a face. “Never said you were. Mia’s right. You do have an ego.”
He shook his head. “Had no idea you both have gotten so chummy.”
Harper shot him a cheeky grin. “Just a chat here and there. You like her.”
“Are we in kindergarten?”
“I caught the way you looked at her. It was cute.”
He gave her a dirty look and walked past. Flower reached out to nip at his hair, dancing around him for attention. He gave her a quick rub. “I refuse to discuss this further. I once parachuted into enemy territory, broke my arm landing wrong in a tree, ran eight miles, and still managed to extract the target to safety. I’m not cute.”
“Sure you are. And why did you land wrong in the tree? Didn’t they give you training in Special Forces?”
“You’re a real ballbuster, Harp. I pity the guy you fall for.”
She laughed, her long legs matching his stride as they headed toward the barn. “I’m more interested in the four-legged kind who will love and adore me without playing dumb games.”
“Not all guys are like the assholes in school. There are good ones out there.”
“Not related to me?”
He knew she made a joke, but he worried about Harper the most. She was so focused on the horses and rescue operation, she’d isolated herself, preferring her own company along with the animals. At least Ophelia was surrounded by guests from the inn. Not that he was one to judge the level of normalcy or happiness. He’d been stranded on an island of one for a while and was just starting to poke his head out of the sand.
Mia had helped.
The thought of her brought a rush of excitement. She’d pushed him to engage, not even knowing what she was doing. She lit his body up and made him feel alive again. She heard his story and didn’t give a crap or treat him differently.
He wondered if she’d take him up on his offer of a hot summer affair.
He intended to tempt her in any way he could.
They reached the barn, and he said hello to each of the horses. Some butted their heads out of the stalls to greet him, some kept their attention on munching hay or leftover carrots but pricked their ears up in acknowledgment. He’d forgotten what it was like to gain a horse’s affection. They were so unlike dogs—testing their owners to prove their love and competence and loyalty before committing their hearts. Ethan respected the mighty breed, who could mimic the wind and allow humans to feel like gods for a short time while riding on their backs.
“I kept him in Barn Five in the paddock, but I isolated him for now. Not sure how he’ll react with the other horses yet.” She tapped the door and gave a low whistle, her habit whenever she greeted a horse in its space. It gave them a sense of routine and respect for approach. “Hey, buddy,” she cooed. “I’m back. I want you to meet Ethan. He’s my brother, and he’d like to take a look at you, if you’ll let him.”
The horse backed up and snorted in warning. His whole body quivered with pent-up nervous energy, and the choppy aura of fear and adrenaline pumped out in waves. Ethan rested his hands on the door and regulated his breathing, channeling a calmness for both of them.
“Aren’t you a pretty one?” he said in a deep, soothing voice. “Understandable to be skittish, especially after an escape from slaughter. I’d be pissed off, too.”
The horse pawed at the ground, walking in tight circles as if trying to gain his bearings. The paddock was pretty large, with enough space for the horse to run in brief bursts of speed, but it was also safe until they figured out what he needed. Ethan’s gaze took in his lean body and dancing hooves. A real beauty. Definitely undernourished and scared shitless. But this one didn’t seem like he was broken—his aura was too bright. Ethan kept talking in the same tone for a while, and suddenly, the horse tossed his head and met his gaze head-on.
Ethan caught his breath. Those dark, knowing wide eyes burned with a fierceness and fire that pegged him as a fighter. A survivor. Oh yeah, there was abuse and broken trust. But this one hadn’t given up.
He reared up in one magnificent fuck you, then tossed his head again to stomp away.
“Told ya,” Harper said.
“Triggers?”
“Loud noises. Impossible to get into the trailer. Quick motions. Not sure how he was used or the history, which makes it more difficult.”
“Biter? Kicker?”
“If you approach from the side. I took my time from the front and was finally able to get him in. He needs a name.”
He turned back to the horse, studying the matted mane and too-skinny body and hellfire eyes that had seen too much pain.
Phoenix.
He must’ve said it aloud because Harp nodded. “A good name. Can you help me?”
It’d be a long road, but he had an instinct about this horse. There were never guarantees, but he deserved a chance. Something deep inside reared up, demanding to be seen, and Ethan gripped the edge of the door in a rush of raw emotion. There was something about that horse that affected him. The horse needed help.
The pain slammed into him, buckling his knee as Aresh’s lifeless eyes flashed before him. He reached down to rub it away, forcing the image aside.
Ethan stepped back from the horse, turning away. “I can’t, Harp. I’m sorry.”
She got in his face, dark eyes desperate. “I know you can reach him. Why won’t you try?”
The pain throbbed in his leg and his heart, making him empty. “Because I have nothing left to give,” he said simply.
He walked away, ignoring the disappointed look on his sister’s face, reminding himself it was for the best.
“The entourage has arrived,” Chloe said. Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but it was the flare of hurt in her blue eyes that made Mia worry. She peeked out the window. Jonathan unfolded his long legs from the sleek black Mercedes, dressed in a sharp charcoal suit and red tie. His sidekick, Bob, flanked his right side, a towering beast. His shaven head gleamed, and he wore dark sunglasses to hide his eyes. Mia shivered. That man was scary but good.
A younger man flanked Jonathan’s left. He sported the hot-nerd look with thick, wavy hair and thick black-framed glasses. Probably his assistant. Nothing like a cozy family visit accompanied by your pit bulls to make an impression. Mia held back a breath of disappointment but pushed away her judgment. She knew how badly Lake was fumbling lately, but he was in a tight race to be elected mayor, still grieved for his wife, and was trying to juggle a daughter mandated to community service.
He was probably doing the best he could.
Chloe, it seemed, disagreed. Screwing her face into a tight expression, she regarded Mia with pure resentment. “Guess we should go down and get the meet and greet over with. I’m sure he brought a photographer to capture the tender moments that will get leaked to the press.”
“Chloe, he’s not like that,” she said softly, but the girl just humphed, and Mia followed her out. Ethel and her crew were absent, thank goodness, and Lake’s sidekicks stepped away when they caught sight of Chloe, giving them privacy. Jonathan’s face lit up when he gazed at his daughter, and in moments, he’d closed the distance and wrapped her up in a tight hug. Mia’s throat tightened. God, how the girl needed such affection, even though she fought it. Without her mom, her father had now become the most important part of her life and her last safe place to fall.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he said, allowing the embrace to linger. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner. How are you doing here?”
Chloe shrugged, but she didn’t fight the hug. “Not bad. I like working with the horses.”
“Becoming a country girl, huh?” he teased, tugging at her purple hair. “Since when did you decide to go goth? I almost had a heart attack when Mia told me you looked nothing like your pictures. And I told you no piercings. They’ll ruin your skin.”
“It’s not goth. It’s just my new style. And everyone has piercings.”
“I thought the country was supposed to be pigtails and overalls. You look worse than the punks in the city I try to put away.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Dad,” she half wailed. “Lame.”
“Sorry.” Lake pressed a kiss to the top of her head and let her free. “Mia, thank you for taking care of her. Looks like you’re blooming here. Must be the country air.”
Was she? Sure, her skin had turned a nice golden brown even with consistently slathering on sunscreen, and she’d gained a few pounds now that Ethan tempted her with homemade treats he insisted she have a few bites of, and she didn’t obsess over her phone 24-7 since there was no place to run out to, but were they good changes or not? Hmm, something to ponder later on . . .
“Thank you, Jonathan. Chloe’s doing really well. I’m sure you’ll meet Ethan, who’s in charge of her work schedule. Ophelia owns the inn, and she’s already invited us to have dinner with her family tonight.”
“Sounds good. I need to rest up a bit, do some work, and then I’m looking forward to spending some time with both of you.” Already he was gaining that distracted look Mia knew all too well. He patted Chloe on the shoulder and motioned his team over. “You both know Bob, and this is Owen, my new assistant.”
“Umm, Jonathan, why don’t you and Chloe take a walk around the property while we get you set up?” Mia suggested.
He waved an elegant hand in the air, his watch flashing in the sunlight. “Definitely, but later, okay? I want to see everything, but I need your input on some new additions to my schedule, Mia. Did you see the article in the New York Times? It concerns me, and I want an analysis of it immediately. I’ll need a work space cleared. Let’s move.”
His daughter forgotten, he motioned to his team and marched up the stairs like it was the White House. Computers and phones were whipped out, and Mia watched her most important client bark orders and fall back into the mode she knew intimately.
Work.
Chloe watched her father’s retreat. “Nice chatting with you, Dad.”
Mia clenched her fists. “He just needs to settle. I know he’s looking forward to getting time with you.”
“Don’t lie for him, Mia,” she said furiously, turning on her combat-boot heel. “I’m outta here.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the stables to help Ethan. You can tell my father I’ll see him at dinner.”
“But—”
The girl stalked off, shoulders back, and Mia groaned. Ah, crap. This hadn’t gone as she’d hoped, and now Jonathan would need to work harder to break down the girl’s barriers. She had to get him to listen before Chloe slipped further away.
She glanced around at the empty porch. In a few minutes, she’d be elbow deep in computer reports, phone calls, and all-important poll stats. Social media charts would be pulled up and analyzed. She’d be lucky to make dinner on time.
She waited for the hit of adrenaline to buzz through her body, but she felt oddly flat. She never cared before what sacrifices had to be made to win an election. Chloe had been a distant figure in her mind, another piece of the puzzle to be moved accordingly to get Jonathan the votes he needed. Now, she wished the girl’s father had just pushed work aside for once and given his daughter the time she craved. And why did her job suddenly seem shallow, like Ethan always accused it of being?
Irritated with her spinning thoughts, Mia tried to refocus. But she began to wonder when Chloe’s feelings had become just as important as winning an election.