“Oh, honey,” Frank said, climbing the steps and sitting beside her. “I’ve been talking to the whole town. And let me tell you, it’s getting good.”
“The whole town? I’ve barely been off the ranch!”
“See how great you are? People want to know all about you and talk about it. Although, in all fairness, that might have just been my wife bombarding me with questions.”
Heather laughed despite herself, reaching for one of the beers and cracking it open. “You’re incorrigible.”
Frank grinned, but his tone softened as he clinked his bottle against hers. “And you’re hiding something.”
Heather hesitated, her grip tightening slightly around the bottle. “There’s nothing to hide. I’m just finding my feet.”
“Every man’s not like Bret, sis.”
“I didn’t?—”
“Look,” he interrupted. “I know you don’t want to go into detail about what happened in your marriage, but I’m your brother. I’m pretty good at figuring things out.”
“Frank—”
“I saw the bruises, Heather. That night you showed up at my door.”
She sucked in a breath, felt an instant punch of shame. But this was Frank. Her big brother. Her ride or die since their dad had taken off to parts unknown, unable to handle the mastectomy and breast cancer that their mother had eventually succumbed to.
She laid her head on Frank’s shoulder. Her abusive marriage was ancient history, more than a year ago. That Frank had known, but had allowed her to heal at her own pace, without prying or adding to her shame, meant a lot. “I love you,” she said simply.
“I know.” Frank didn’t press her further, letting the weight of her words settle comfortably between them as they both stared out at the horizon.
And for a little while longer, Heather allowed herself the quiet company of someone who understood life’s harder edges, even as the memory of Lyle’s gaze—steady and unyielding—lingered in the corners of her heart.
5
Chapter 5
* * *
Lyle knelt in front of a padded stall gate, his hands steady and sure as they worked over the foreleg of a slight, trembling mare. A ray of early morning sun filtering through the slats of the barn sent a cascade of dust motes dancing in the warm, manure-scented air. Beside him, a teenage boy shifted from foot to foot, his ball cap pulled low over his eyes and his jaw set tightly against the tears that threatened to fall.
“She stepped wrong coming off the trailer,” the boy mumbled, his voice thick with worry. “I—I can’t tell if it’s broken.”
Lyle glanced up at him, his face calm but kind. “We’ll figure it out, Cole,” he said gently. “Let’s not go borrowing trouble, okay?”
The horse—a young chestnut mare with a white blaze running the length of her face—shivered under his touch, her nostrils flaring as though bracing for the worst. Lyle shifted his weight onto one knee, clicking his tongue softly in reassurance as he ran his hands down her leg, pausing to gently palpate the swollen area just above the fetlock.
“She’s in pain, but it doesn’t feel like a break,” he said after a moment, his voice steady and sure. “Swelling like this means it’s likely a sprain. Painful, yes, but nothing we can’t fix.”
“Really?” Cole’s voice cracked, hope breaking through his worry like a blade of grass in hard soil.
“Really,” Lyle said firmly, giving the boy a gentle smile before nodding toward the metal bucket just inside the stall door. “There’s a roll of vet wrap and some ice packs in there. Can you grab them for me?”
Cole scrambled to obey, the brim of his cap hiding the way his face flooded with relief. Lyle turned his attention back to the mare, running a calming hand down her quivering neck. “Easy, girl,” he murmured softly, his tone so low it was almost a hum. “You’re going be just fine.”
Behind him, the faint shuffle of boots on hay startled him for half a second before a familiar voice filtered through the warm air.
“Should’ve known you’d be here, in your element, calming the whole world one animal at a time.”
Lyle glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of Heather leaning casually against the barn doorframe, her arms crossed and a gentle smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She looked effortlessly polished in a way that made it hard to take his eyes off her. Snug jeans hugged her hips. Her smooth skin was free of makeup, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and threaded through the back of a bright orange ball cap. She looked young and cute and so damned sexy.
“I’m not sure about the whole world,” Lyle replied, turning his focus back to the task at hand. “But this girl here? Yeah, I think I can manage her.”
