It was two weeks before his plan was ready to be implemented. When he approached Brock, the other man was understandably upset. They'd been together a long time. Jackson tried to explain that it wasn't any discontent on the ranch itself that was urging him away, but discontent with the situation with Emily. Brock seemed to understand for the most part, because he was currently head over heels and lost in Payton.

"I know this has been eating at you, Jackson. Take the time to do what you need to do. We'll be here with whatever support you need. If you decide you need to leave permanently, I'll understand that too. Maybe."

Brock held his hand out to shake, then he pulled Jackson in for a back-slapping hug. "I already consider you my brother."

Jackson's eyes burned but he held the tears back by force of will. Brock's eyes were glossy as well. Maybe being with Payton was having a softening effect on the hard cowboy, his friend. "I've always considered you a brother," he admitted.

The men pulled away and wiped at their eyes, laughing.

"Couple'a damn hens we are," Brock groused. "In all seriousness, I'm here for anything. Maybe it's time we expand to Houston. You know, maybe you should hook up with Holt Martin. I bet he'd have a place for you to stay for a while. Hell, he'd love to have you come down and gush over his stock. You could check on that mare I've been looking at. Maybe you can talk him into letting her go." Brock shrugged. "Do what you need to do, Jackson, and I'll support you. But if he tries to lure you away you're going to have fight on your hands. Just so you know."

Jackson laughed, doubting that would ever happen.

Garrett told him a version of the same thing. "I don't know about that youngest of mine. I thought it was all a done deal between you two till she came back engaged. At the very least you go down to the city and check that boy out, Jackson. I doubt he's good enough for my Emily."

"I doubt he is either," Jackson mused, leaning his arm on the saddle horn. The horse, one of the colts he was training, shifted beneath him, but Jackson stilled him with a word. That was one of the things he would miss, working with the horses. Literally, every day he was up with the dawn and getting things done. Maybe Holt was the way to go. He could work while he was fighting to get Emily back. Because that's what he planned to do.

---

Holt Martin had a spread to rival the Blue Star, but it was dedicated to premier horseflesh, not a cow on the horizon. It was right on the western edge of Houston city limits. His family had had the acreage for generations. For the past hundred and fifty years the Martin family had been one of the best in the nation for top notch horses and well-bred, registered Quarter Horses since the inception of the AQHA Registry in 1940. If you wanted a future grand dam for your cutting line, they had options for you. As long as you were willing to spend big bucks to get them.

As Jackson pulled down the mile long, tree shrouded lane to the main barn, he couldn't help but be a little envious. This was an amazing spread. He let his truck coast down the drive, eyeing the horses in the field. They were prime, and he was dying to get his hands on a few of them.

A tall man in dirty jeans and a well-worn black hat met him as soon as he stopped. Holt Martin had the cowboy look down pat, and Jackson had seen women fall all over themselves trying to get his attention. The man had a single-minded love of horses, though. He’d built a flourishing business on them though it was hard to believe just from looking at him that he was a multimillionaire.

Jackson took his hand as soon as he got out of the truck. "Good to see you, Holt."

"Jackson. I never thought you'd make your way down here. I'm more than happy to have you, though. Come on in."

Holt led the way into the shadowed barn, out of the heat. Inside the barn, custom stalls lined the aisle, black iron bars allowing peeks of the horses inside. Huge industrial fans droned overhead, keeping the horses cool. Jackson headed to the first stall and leaned into the bars. A beautiful little filly looked back at him, ears pricked forward. She was a pretty little thing.

They were all pretty, and as he moved down the aisle Holt gave him a quick biographical sketch of every horse Jackson took an interest in. Which ones he thought were going to be champions and which were going to be stock horses. He also pointed out a few of his favorites.

Leaning against a stall wall he motioned inside to a calm, bright eyed little horse.

"The breeding on this filly is not bad, but something about her tells me she's going to go all the way." The chestnut mare lowered her head to him to be scratched and Holt massaged her ears.

Jackson knew that Holt was well-known for his 'feelings' and he looked even closer at the little mare. Her legs were true and she had a wide, intelligent eye. The hindquarters were well-muscled and strong and he could tell that she'd had the best care by the shine of her hide.

"She's beautiful. I can see why you like her."

There was more eye candy than Jackson could even take in, and a training barn to rival the Blue Star's.

"Garrett called and said that you might need a place to hang while you're here, so I thought you could hang here, as long as you don't mind sleeping in the barn."

Jackson raised an eyebrow at him and Holt shrugged. "Yeah, didn't think so."

Holt led him up an outside set of stairs above the training barn. The door at the top of the stairs was locked. Digging a key ring from his pocket, Holt unlocked the door, then handed the ring to Jackson and opened the door.

The apartment was nicer than Jackson had expected, long expanses of cool gray tile floors with paler gray walls. The furniture looked soft and comfortable, and the kitchen looked equipped to cook anything. "I will only stay here if you let me work for you a bit. I can train or exercise. Hell, I'm not too good to muck stalls if that's what you need."

Holt shrugged, giving him a narrow-eyed look. "Fuck that. There's no way you're mucking stalls while you're here. I know I wouldn't mind having a Jackson Windwalker trained colt in my barn, though."

Jackson laughed and inclined his head, tipping his hat with two fingers. "Sounds like we've got a deal."

Holt shook on it and pounded him on the back. "Once you get settled in come on down and we'll see what kind of horse we can find for you."