“It’s Walker’s place, not mine,” Boone said, voice cooling several degrees. “And it’s doing good work.”
“That right?” Luke snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Looks to me like you’re just letting troublemakers run wild, endangering the community.”
River took a step back, as if trying to make himself invisible. Walker’s gaze darted between the two men, watchful.
“One incident doesn’t define us,” Boone said evenly, though his pulse had quickened. “Unlike some people, we don’t judge a man by his worst day.”
Luke’s face flushed dark red. “Is that what prison was to you, Callahan? Just a ‘bad day’?”
“Enough,” Lila cut in sharply, steppingbetween them. “We have an injured horse that needs immediate attention. Luke, get back in the truck.”
Luke held Boone’s gaze for another tense moment before turning away with a muttered curse.
Lila shot Boone an apologetic look. “Sorry. He’s been... struggling since he got back.”
“Aren’t we all,” Boone replied quietly.
Walker approached and laid a steadying hand on Boone’s shoulder. “Let’s get Sunny back to the barn. River, mend the fence, then take Boone’s ATV back.”
For once, River didn’t protest or crack a joke. He just accepted the fencing and tools Walker pulled from his truck bed and got to work.
Boone climbed into the cab of Walker’s truck. Walker slid behind the wheel, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.
“Do you think River actually cut the perimeter fence?” Walker asked as he put the truck in gear.
Boone wanted to say yes. He wanted to give Walker a reason to kick River out. Problem was, he believed River was telling the truth when he denied doing it.
“No. River didn’t do it.” Boone glanced in the side mirror at Lila’s truck following them. Jonah brought up the rear on his ATV. “But this wasn’t an accident.”
“It never is.” Walker drove slowly, mindful of the injured horse in the trailer. “First the break-in and tree falling last Christmas, now this.”
Plus, the broken water line in April. The contaminated feed in June. The slashed tires in July.
They’d spent the last year trying to write off the incidents as bad luck. Despite finding the suspicious ax marks, the tree could have fallen naturally under the weight of the snow. The feed could have been a supplier error. The water line might have frozen and cracked. Even thetires—four vehicles in one night—could have been random vandalism.
But Boone didn’t think so. “Someone’s escalating.”
They pulled up to the barn in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. Jonah was already there, having cut across the pasture on the ATV to prepare a stall with fresh bedding. His face was tight with worry as they backed the trailer to the barn entrance.
“Stall’s ready,” he said, his voice strained. “I put down extra bedding.”
They unloaded the mare carefully, guiding her into the prepared stall. She limped badly, the bloodstained flannel still wrapped around her leg, but at least the sedative kept her calm. Lila followed with her medical bag, Luke trailing behind with additional supplies from their truck.
“I need good light,” Lila said, already pulling on latex gloves. “And warm water if you have it.”
“Got it.” Jonah hurried to fill a bucket while Boone adjusted the overhead lights, positioning them to illuminate Sunny’s injured leg.
Lila knelt beside the wound, her movements confident and precise as she unwrapped the makeshift bandage. Fresh blood welled up immediately, bright red against the golden coat.
“This is deep,” she murmured, probing gently. “Luke, hand me the irrigation solution.”
Luke passed her a bottle, his expression softening slightly as he watched his sister work. Whatever anger he harbored toward Boone didn’t extend to the animals.
“Will she be okay?” Jonah asked, his voice tight with worry.
“The good news is it missed the major tendons,” Lila replied, cleaning the wound with practiced efficiency. “Butshe’ll need stitches, and there’s a risk of infection. She won’t be bearing weight on this leg for a while.”
Boone watched Lila’s hands as they moved over Sunny’s injury—steady, gentle, sure. The same hands that had once bandaged his scraped knees after he’d crashed his bike in her driveway. The same hands that had helped him build a fort in her backyard the summer before high school. Now they were saving Sunny with the same quiet competence.
