Chapter 1
Harrison
The colt knows before anyone else does. I see it in the way Red Ledger lifts his head, ears flicking forward, neck tightening like a wire pulled too far. Two years old and already sharper than most men I know. Too smart for his own good. Too fast and wild to forgive.
“Easy,” I say, not because he needs it, but because saying nothing feels like tempting fate.
Red Ledger stamps once, hard, then tosses his head. His dark chestnut coat flashes copper in the Oklahoma sun, the narrow white blaze down his face going slightly crooked when he does it. The marking is off-center, like everything else about him.
The exercise rider shifts in the saddle. I don’t move or raise my voice. I stand with my boots planted in the packed dirt outside the rail, hat low, hands loose at my sides. Animals read tension faster than words.
The colt breaks anyway into a full bolt. A sharp sideways surge that sends dust flying and nerves skittering. The riderswears under his breath and hauls him back in, hands rougher than I like.
Red Ledger doesn’t buck. He doesn’t rear. He locks down instead, neck stiff, muscles corded, eyes bright with something that isn’t fear but isn’t calm either.
I exhale slowly. This horse is bleeding me dry. Not just money — though there’s plenty of that leaving my accounts every month — but patience. The entire break up with my ex-fiancé has ruined my reputation and sleep. I spent years building my name as a rancher and one bad partnership dismantled it in less than a year.
A year ago, I wouldn’t be standing at a track. A year ago, I’d be at the ranch, checking fence lines, counting calves, dealing with things that make sense. Now, I own a racehorse. The thought still doesn’t sit right.
“Big H.”
I don’t turn right away. I know the voice. Ray Dawson’s been calling me that since before he ever thought about trading cattle barns for a training track.
“Horse has raw talent,” Ray says, stepping up beside me.
Same cologne he’s worn for years. He’s wearing too much of it, especially this early.
“But you keep pushing him like this, he’s gonna snap. Might already be halfway there.”
I tip my head just enough to acknowledge him. “You got a solution, Ray?”
He shrugs. “I don’t. You’ll have to make a decision if you can’t get him properly trained. Some horses just aren’t worth the trouble.”
My jaw tightens. I’ve heard that line before. From men who quit when things stop behaving the way they want. From men who think walking away makes them smarter than the ones who stay.
“Appreciate the concern,” I say.
Ray lingers a second longer, then moves off, already looking for someone else to bother. I keep my eyes on Red Ledger. That’s when I notice her. She’s watching my horse.
Standing just beyond the rail, slightly apart from the others, her hands rest loosely at her sides. Her posture seems relaxed in a way that doesn’t invite interruption. Long dark hair pulled back in a low braid. Jeans, boots, plain denim work shirt.
The colt’s ears flick again as the rider brings him down from a jog, circling near the rail. One ear locks forward … toward her.
The lady with the braid doesn’t move closer to Red Ledger. She just stands there, head tilted, like she’s listening to something no one else can hear.
Red Ledger shifts beneath the saddle, blowing out through his nostrils. The tight line of his neck eases just a fraction.
The rider glances down, confused, then loosens the reins without realizing it. The woman doesn’t smile or react at all. She turns and walks away, boots quiet on the packed dirt, braid swinging once down the center of her back.
The pull in my gut surprises me. It’s low, noticeable and unmistakably male. I’m not feeling pretty admiration or even curiosity. It’s want that’s triggered by the way her body moves. I’d like to follow her, but I hold back.
I learned the hard way what happens when you mistake attraction for investment, chemistry for commitment. I don’t fall in love anymore. I don’t build dreams around women who can walk away with your money, your name, and leave you holding the wreckage.
Whatever this is—it stays in my body, but not in my life. But, I’m not stupid. That woman with the long dark hair has my loins reacting … and she’s not even trying. Whatever she’s doing, it isn’t forced or meant to be provocative.
She’s gone before the horse is even unsaddled. I watch her walk the length of the rail, not turning to check if anyone’s watching. She moves like she’s secure about who and what she is and doesn’t care if people look or not. I’m looking and I can’t resist. I watch until she disappears into the shadows behind the maintenance shed.
Red Ledger’s head comes up, eyes fixed on the spot where she vanished, as if he’s waiting for her to circle back and finish a conversation only they can hear. He’s not the only one.
