Then his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he tugged it out to glance at the screen.
Why the hell is Camden Moore calling me now?
Moore had paid his bill; there was no reason for him to call again. While he decided if he wanted to answer or not, his phone kept buzzing.
Marla glared at him in annoyance. Her eyes flicked to the phone, then back to him, one dark eyebrow lifting. “You gonna answerthat, sugar, or you just planning on letting it ring till the battery dies?”
Rowan exhaled through his nose. His thumb hovered over the decline button, pressing just enough to feel the resistance, but before he had it fully pressed, the buzzing stopped, and the screen dimmed. He placed it on the table in relief. Then the damn thing started up again.
Marla didn’t even look at him this time. “People don’t call more than once in a row unless it’s life or death, and you know it.”
Rowan’s jaw tightened, but he snatched the phone up on the third ring, swiping across the screen before the call could roll to voicemail again. He pressed the phone hard to his ear, as if he could block out the noise of the diner. “Salieri.”
“Rowan.” Camden’s voice was rough, and there was a rawness to it that put Rowan on edge. “Got a minute?”
Something’s wrong.
“Depends. You need another bill settled?” He kept his tone light, but the words were forced. “Give me a couple of minutes to pay my bill and get to my truck. I’ll call you back in five.” He didn’t need Marla telling everyone in a hundred-mile radius what she managed to overhear.
“Sure thing, another few minutes won’t matter much.”
Rowan got to his feet and walked to the counter to pay Nora-Mae. “Can you give me a couple of pies for the bunkhouse?”
“You got it, Sugar.” Nora-Mae put the pies in a box and handed them over, then rang up his total.
Rowan handed over the cash and waved at the room, “See ya, folks. Thanks, Nora-Mae.” He carefully carried the pies to his truck and slid them onto the passenger seat where he could grab them if needed. He blew out a long, slow breath and reached for his phone.
The call barely had time to connect before Camden answered. “Rowan, thank you for calling me back.”
“What can I do for you, Camden? Is everything okay?”
There was a beat of silence, heavy enough to raise Rowan’s eyebrows.
“It’s Enya.” Camden said, “And Rain.”
Rowan’s free hand curled around the steering wheel, “go on.”
Camden’s breath hitched, the sound raw and uneven. “They’re not…” His voice cracked, but he cleared his throat and started again. “They’re not doing well. Enya’s barely functioning, never mind riding or even paying any attention to Rain. And Rain—” Camden took a sharp inhale of breath as if he’d been gut-punched. “He’s almost as bad as she is. He won’t let anyone near him. He’s dropping weight, refuses feed, kicks the stall walls like he’s trying to tear the whole barn down.”
Sounds like the horse is traumatized, too.
Rowan’s fingers drummed against the wheel. He still had no idea where Moore was going with this.“What’re you asking, Moore?”
The sigh that came through the line was long and exhausted. “Because he was bred on your ranch, I’m asking if you’d take Rain for a little while.” Camden’s voice roughened into something that sounded suspiciously like desperation. “Maybe giving them both some space from the pain the other is in willhelp. Maybe if he’s not here, not seeing her like this every damn day, he’ll settle. And she’ll—” His voice broke, “She’ll figure out how to stand on her own two feet again without the guilt of knowing she’s hurting him every day she doesn’t talk to or even look at him.”
A horse that had lost its rider. A rider who had lost herself. He’d seen how grief could twist a creature, human or otherwise, into something unrecognizable. The way it could hollow them out from the inside. Rowan exhaled, giving himself a second to think. “You sure that’s what she wants?”
“She doesn’t know what she wants.” Camden’s voice sounded drained of everything but exhaustion. “But I have to try something. Please, Rowan. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t?—”
He didn’t need Camden to finish that sentence. Rain was bred on Stronghold Ranch. He was horse family, period. Stronghold looked after their own. “I’ll send Gael with a trailer tomorrow.” He knew he didn’t owe Camden Moore a damn thing. But as Rain’s breeder, or at least the son of his breeder, he owed that horse a shot. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed Camden to understand there were no magic fixes… for horses or for people. “I’m not making promises that we can help him, just as you shouldn’t hold out hope that he can help Enya.”
“I know.” Camden replied, “But as it is, it’s like they are draining each other. I have to try something.”
“I understand.” If he were in the other man’s shoes, he’d try anything too. “Gael will be there by noon tomorrow.”
“Appreciate it. We’ll have him ready. Thank you, once again.”
“You’re welcome.” Rowan lowered the phone. Gael was not going to be thrilled about this. But what could they do? An SHR-bred horse needed help, so help they would give.
