He eyed her in the mirror.
“Can’t be any different than a horse.”
He grunted his reluctant agreement, mostly because arguing with Willow was like wrestling a bull.
She moved to the sink to wash her hands. She’d changed out of her dress and wore sweatpants and a shirt that looked like it once belonged to one of her brothers.
“How did you know I was in here? You should be asleep by now.”
“I saw the light on and had to make sure no one was hurt.” She gathered supplies from the cabinet with practiced efficiency.
Of course she did. She was so damn caring about every single creature on this ranch—human, horse or otherwise. It was one of the things that made her dangerous to be around. Made him want things he had no business wanting.
He watched her in the small mirror mounted above the medical station as she worked, her brow furrowed in concentration. She cleaned the wound with gentle, thorough strokes, her touch sure and steady. When she reached for the staple gun, she met his eyes in the mirror.
“This is going to hurt.”
He didn’t speak, just watched her reflection as she positioned the first staple. The sharp bite of metal piercing skin was nothing compared to the ache in his chest from having herthis close or feeling her breath warm against his skin as she worked.
She filled the silence for both of them, probably trying to ease any awkwardness he might feel. “You know, I’ve patched up more animals than I can count, but somehow this feels different. More…” She trailed off, focusing on placing another staple.
When she reached for the bandages, he saw it—the slight tremble in her hands, the way she blinked rapidly. A single tear tracked down her cheek before she could stop it.
“Hey.” The word came out as a rough rasp.
She stiffened, forcing her shoulders back and swiping at her face with her forearm. “Sorry. I’m fine.” Her laugh was brittle around the edges, and he heard what being strong all the time cost her.
His heart cracked watching her force those tears back and slam that armor into place. Guilt hit him like a physical blow.
Fuck, he’d made her cry. This woman who took care of everyone and everything had tears in her eyes because of him.
As she finished taping a bandage over the wound, her fingers were soft torment against his skin.
Decker closed his eyes, fighting off the dark ache she raised in him.
She would never see him as more than someone to help, another wounded creature to tend to. And maybe that was for the best. If he let himself heal—really heal from all the damage he carried—he’d have a shot with someone like her.
But if he let himself heal, he’d have to leave the Black Heart and return to whatever world was left for him.
He’d have to go away from this ranch…away from her.
The best he could do was love her from a distance and try not to bleed on her while he did it.
Chapter Two
Willow stepped into the barn and filled her nose with a deep breath spiced with hay. The soft nickers of horses wrapped around her like a welcome. She moved quietly down the center aisle, passing two stalls before stopping at the third.
The metal latch clicked, and Sundancer shifted, hooves tamping the straw. The moment Willow eased the door open, the mare bobbed her head and whickered low in her throat.
“Hi, girl.” Willow’s voice softened as she reached to smooth a hand down the horse’s sleek mane, her fingers finding the spot behind her ears that always made her melt.
Big brown eyes blinked at her, trusting, knowing. Willow slipped inside the stall and pressed her forehead to Sundancer’s warm hide.
Outside, the ranch was just waking. A few of the vets in the therapy program had already started their dawn chores, choosing to work early before heading into their sessions later in the day. Willow didn’t have much time before someone called on her—but for now, she let herself be selfish.
Sundancer stood steady, her breathing slow and deep. She was more than a horse—she was a therapy partner, a quiet healer who seemed to sense when someone just needed to borrow her calm.
Last night hadn’t given Willow much downtime. Between the bachelorette party and a midnight emergency involving a rugged ex-SEAL and a medical stapler, she could’ve used an energy boost that coffee alone couldn’t provide.
