Chapter
One
LEVI
The gelding Quarter horse tries to kill me before noon.
I’ve had worse mornings.
Boots planted in packed dirt, I hold the lead rope steady and wait him out. He’s all tension—eyes blown wide, breath sharp, muscle coiled to break.
“Easy,” I say, low enough it doesn’t spook him further. “Nobody’s coming for you, Buddy.” Some name for walking chaos.
He doesn’t believe me.
They never do.
He slams back against the stall, wood rattling under the force of it. Dust shakes loose from the rafters. The whole barn seems to hold its breath.
I don’t move.
That’s the work.
You don’t fight something like this. You give it time. You let it decide you’re not the enemy.
Eventually, the edge dulls.
It doesn’t go away. Just gets… less sharp.
I step closer, slow enough it doesn’t register as a threat. My hand settles against his neck. Solid. Grounding.
He flinches. But he stays.
“That’s it,” I murmur. Enough.
As good as it gets on day one.
Out here at Wild Vista Ranch in the Texas Hill Country, I take what everyone else writes off and make it manageable again.
Horses are honest. They tell you exactly where you stand.
People don’t.
A sharp noise cuts through the quiet.
Buddy jolts. Again. For the umpteenth time.
But now, I do, too.
The barn door swings open, and a woman walks in like she has no idea what kind of place she’s stepped into.
“Hey—”
Too late.
The horse rears, rope ripping through my grip. She freezes right where she stands, eyes wide, body locked.
“Move.”
