A smile tugged at Pope’s mouth before he could stop it. “About this tall?” He held a hand waist height. “Pink cowgirl boots?”
Truman snorted and brought his cup to his lips. “That’s the one.”
He shook his head again, warmth settling low in his chest at the memory of the little girl’s arms wrapped around Flint’s neck.
“She wanted to show you pictures already.” Truman pushed away from the door and crossed the aisle. “Horse looks happy.”
Pope scuffed his boot over the worn hardwood. “I think he ended up where he belonged.”
Somehow that felt true for more than just the horse.
He and Truman shared a look. There was nothing more to say—his friend understood.
Truman pushed off the doorway and drifted into the barn with Ranger matching his steps. “So…you got Summer back.”
His lips tightened. “Thanks to the security team.”
“And your quick action, from what I hear.”
“We were damn lucky. Some of that guy’s victims weren’t.”
That settled heavily between them, leaving only the sound of a tractor in one of the nearby fields and a clank of metal.
“I’m happy for you, Pope. You deserve it.”
His throat tightened. “So do you. Everyone in this place gave up so much for our country.”
Truman issued another snort, this one more mournful. “Deserve is a broad term. But I hear you.” He reached down absently and brushed his fingertips over Ranger’s head. The dog looked up at him in his watchful way, gauging his owner’s mood in ways humans failed to.
“Make sure to save our seats for coffee tomorrow morning.”
Truman looked up at him, surprise rippling over his face. “Thought you were out of the program.”
“Might be out of the program. Doesn’t mean I don’t like coffee.”
They shared a smile of understanding. Pope walked toward the exit, and he and Truman, together with Ranger, went out into the morning air. The sun hadn’t yet burned off all the fog of dawn, which left a layer across the fields and concealing the mountain peaks.
“What’s on your agenda this morning?” he asked Truman.
“Just finished sunrise yoga.”
His brows shot up in surprise. “You? I thought you hated sunrise yoga.”
He gave an awkward shrug. “Thought I should try something new. Branch out.” He stared across the yard toward the main house.
Pope gripped his friend’s shoulder. “I understand. I’d best get to the office.”
“See you tomorrow morning.”
Pope flicked out his hand in a wave and continued toward the security office. Everything about his day so far left him with a tight feeling in his chest—Flint’s empty stall, hearing that his new owner wanted to share photos of him, and the promise to continue his friendship with Truman, even if they were in different places in their lives.
Most of all, waking beside the woman he loved left him with so much warmth that his body didn’t seem capable of holding it all.
When he walked into the Black Heart Security office, he expected another briefing from Carson on Summer’s case.
Instead he found the entire team gathered around the long conference table drinking coffee and watching him with expressions that put him on edge.
Carson leaned back in his seat. “You look nervous.”
