The air was still. No birds. No wind.
A black Ford F-150 sat near the drive, its presence clean and deliberate against the land.
Standing by the corral was a man.
He didn’t move when they approached. His stillness filled the space, pressed against the restless energy of the horses and the men alike. Jeans. A worn denim jacket. Dark hair pulled back neatly at his nape.
But it was his eyes that stopped Than cold. Green. Vivid. Uncompromising. They tracked everything at once, the tension in Than’s shoulders, the feral edge in Fly, the way the horses shifted under too much pressure.
Than knew him instantly.
Dr. Shawl Red Thunder, his tribe’s modern medicine man with a controversial edge. A healer who walked in both worlds, the old ways and the current one, called in when pain refused to be outrun.
The knot in Than’s chest tightened, relief and unease colliding. Shawl wasn’t just a man. His presence here felt like an intervention Than hadn’t agreed to, and anger spiked through the numbness. Anger directed entirely at his brother.
Bear stood off to the side near the barn, arms crossed, watching with a gaze that carried both concern and experience.
“You’re going to burn yourselves out before you even get to BUD/S,” Bear said quietly. “They don’t go easy on anyone. Especially officers.”
Shawl’s gaze moved to Fly, then returned to Than. He said nothing. Let the silence settle. Let it work.
Than’s gut clenched. This guy didn’t circle wounds or offer comfort. He went straight for the load-bearing walls.
For weeks, Than had been keeping certain thoughts sealed, compressed, and buried under discipline, exhaustion, motion. They slipped sometimes. After brutal workouts, his body was wrecked and his mind too slow to keep watch. After the nightmares, when he came awake gasping and the lines blurred for a heartbeat between grief and blame.
Thoughts he crushed immediately. Thoughts he would never voice.
Shawl was the kind of man who could reach in and pull them free without ever raising his voice. If those things surfaced, if Fly ever heard them, Than didn’t know how they would come back from it. He wasn’t afraid of breaking. He was afraid of what might fracture between them.
What was the point? Mei was dead, and everything associated with her should die, too. It had to…he couldn’t…
He looked at Fly, and everything twisted dark and minacious.
“Dr. Red Thunder is here because I asked him,” Bear added. “You don’t have to talk to him. That’s your call. But, Than, you know him. And Fly…he’s worth a conversation.”
Than couldn’t contain the explosion inside him. “Bear,” he said, clipped, controlled. “I need a word. Now.” His eyes cut briefly to Shawl. “Alone.”
Bear nodded, his brother’s calm demeanor only making his anger spike harder. When they got far enough away, Than turned on him. “You don’t trust me,” he said flatly. “You don’t think I’m ready for BUD/S.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Then why do I need an intervention. You’re right. I know who he is, and I know what he does. How the fuck do you think some guy my own age can offer me anything that will help with Mei?” He took hard breaths. She was a landmine, and he’d just stepped right on it. He was breaking apart. “That’s why he’s here. For her!”
“Than,” Bear said, his voice harder, but never raised. “I brought him here because you need him. You can’t go to BUD/S like this. Neither can Fly. You’re feeding off each other’s grief, and Fly is drowning in guilt.” He stepped forward, grabbing Than’s neck. “Do you think I think you’ll break?” He squeezed and Than’s anger exploded, and he twisted out of Bear’s hold. “Listen to me,” he said. “I think you’ll survive anything. That’s the problem. You’re about to survive this by calcifying around it, and BUD/S will finish the job.”
He glared at him, his chest heaving, all the nightmares, the ache, the pain compounding. “I didn’t break when she died. I didn’t,” he shouted. Then he turned and ran and just kept running. He vaulted the fence, mounted his buckskin without a saddle, took up the halter and kicked his heels into the horse’s sides. The buckskin took off, heading for the fence, and as he reached it, he didn’t disappoint Than. His big hindquarters bunched, and he sailed over without a problem.
Fly knew something was wrong the moment Than bolted.
He didn’t lose control like that. Not with Bear. Especially not with Bear. He’d always been respectful, even when they disagreed. Even when things were hard. The look on Bear’s face as Than ran, surprise edged with concern, set off alarms Fly couldn’t ignore.
They’d been through too much together for this to be nothing.
Fly took a slow breath, eyes tracking the man who had spooked a very unspookable man. He’d just…stood there. Let the truth do the work.
Fly’s guard went up solely because of Than’s reaction.
What was he so afraid of?
