Grayson Steele swallowed the pain. His knee was throbbing. With each step, a sharp pain shot through his knee and up his back. His dad had always told him that a hard day of work would make him feel proud of what he’d accomplished. When he was younger, mucking out the stalls had been a piece of cake. Even when he came home, on leave from the navy, he enjoyed the quiet time in the barn, cleaning out the stalls.

Six months ago, Grayson and his younger brother, Noah, had been medically discharged from the navy after a mission had gone terribly wrong. He and his brother were the only survivors of SEAL Team Six.

“Shit,” he murmured and reached down to clench his knee. The therapist had said it would take time for his knee to heal and that he wouldn’t ever be one hundred percent. He fuckin’ hated not being able to do physical tasks like he used to. How could he expect farm hands and hired help to muck out stalls if he could barely finish one himself?

Grayson heard Noah before he saw him. The slight thud of his cane was a clear sign that Noah was walking toward the stall he was working in. Noah had returned to Lazy S Ranch a little over a week ago. His rehab had taken longer. Even though he could walk again with the help of a prosthetic leg, survivor guilt weighed on him heavily. Instead of dealing with it head on, he was letting it build inside him until it came out as anger.

“Why are you mucking out stalls?” he growled at Grayson.

“What am I supposed to do? Leave them? Someone needs to take care of the stalls. I don’t see you coming out to the barn and helping.” Over the last few months, Grayson had let Noah do whatever he wanted, including walking around the ranch, feeling sorry for himself.

“That’s why we have hired hands.”

Grayson leaned the rake against the side of the stall and gave Noah his full attention.

“You were raised better than that,” Grayson said. He waved his hand around the stall. “Father never stopped mucking out stalls and doing manual labor. We all pull our weight around here. Hell, you used to love being out in the barn with the horses.”

“Look where that got him. He died of a heart attack while mucking out stalls.”

“Jesus. What’s wrong with you? You survived. Stop acting like a little kid.”

“Why did you save me? I should’ve died out there with my brothers.”

“I’m your brother.”

There was a lost look in Noah’s eyes. He needed something to help him get out of his slump and look at what he had to live for. The buckskin in the stall Grayson was leaning on reached his head out and nudged Noah, hoping to get petted. Not looking at Grayson, Noah rubbed the horse's neck. “I know you’re my brother. I’m having a hard time dealing with what happened.” Noah’s voice was almost a whisper.

An idea took root in Grayson’s mind. “I’m going to head to Eagle Rock, Montana, in a couple days. I want you to run the ranch.”

“Did you forget I’m missing a leg?”

“Nope. You’ll do just fine. Take pride in the ranch, and when I get back, we’ll talk about how things are going to run with both of us here.”

Noah’s eyes flashed with anger, and he stood up straight. “You can’t just decide you’re going on vacation and leave me to run the ranch!”

 “I can, and I am.”

“What if I don’t want to be on this fuckin’ ranch? Maybe there is something else I want to do.”

“You’ve spent the last week moping around here, feeling sorry for yourself. When I get back, if you still hate it here, you can leave. If not, we’ll work something out.”

Noah turned back to the buckskin, Molly, pulled a carrot from his pocket, and fed it to her. Grayson could tell Noah’s heart was still in the ranch. He just needed a push to accept his change in career.

“What happens if I fail? I won’t just be letting you down. I’ll be letting Dad down too. This place was his baby. It meant the world to him.”

“The ranch won’t fail in one week. Give it one week and see if it brings back the brother I know, not this person standing in front of me, feeling sorry for himself. If you fail, big fuckin’ deal. We fix it. That’s what family does for each other. Do you think I’m not walking around feeling guilty for what happened to our brothers that died that day?”

“You seem like you don’t care about them at all!” he yelled, picking up the pail next to the stall and throwing it across the barn. The sound spooked Molly, causing her to paw at the stall door.

Grayson stayed silent for a moment while he took up his rake and went back to work. He was stalling, trying to figure out the proper way to answer Noah.

“I care more than you know. I’m choosing to live my life. If I don’t, Phantom, Pyro, and Reaper died in vain.” Grayson pointed at his knee. “Every time I take a step, I am reminded of what happened that day.”

“At least you still have a leg.”

“Yes. I’m sorry you lost yours. We can’t go back in time and change the outcome.”

“Fine. I’ll run the ranch for one week.”

It took everything in Grayson to suppress the smile that wanted to spread across his face. It was the first time he had seen hope in his brother’s eyes.

“Thank you.”

Noah snorted. “Don’t thank me yet. Who knows if this place will be standing when you get back.”

“I have faith in you.”

“We’ll see.” Noah turned and headed toward the house.

“I thought you were going to give him more time to get acclimated.”

“Shit! You scared the crap out of me, Thomas.”

Thomas Carpenter was the foreman at Lazy S Ranch. He flicked a piece of straw he’d been chewing from his mouth. “You think he’s ready for this?”

“I don’t know.”

But Grayson felt he had to do something. Watching his brother walk around with no life in his eyes was killing him. The doctors and nurses at his brother’s rehab facility were struggling to battle his depression. They had thought it might help if Noah went home.

Thomas walked into the stall and took the rake from Grayson. “I think you’ve done enough today, son.”

Grayson had to hold back the growl threatening to escape. He hated looking weak. “I can finish the stall.”

“Let the young bucks do this.” Thomas jutted his chin in the direction Noah had gone. “How do you think he’ll do without you around?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Grayson answered, “I think he’ll do fine. With me gone, he won’t be able to hide away in the house, on the computer. I’m heading to Montana for a week with some of my military friends.”

“Don’t worry about this place. We have it handled. I think you're right that Noah needs a swift kick in the ass.” Thomas left the stall, taking the rake and shovel with him.

Grayson muttered a “Thank you” at Thomas’s retreating back. The inside of his knee was throbbing. He didn’t have any fight left in him. Grayson reached for a towel to wipe away the sweat running down his face. The sweat wasn’t caused by the heat. It was from the pain radiating from his knee. Maybe a weekend off would be good for him also.

Later that night, Grayson called Hank Patterson to let him know he would be in the neighborhood. So many times, Hank told him about fishing and hiking in Montana and the crystal-clear streams. He couldn’t wait to dip his pole into the Montana water.