Page 51

“Dad, is that okay?”

Eddie pressed his lips together and then cleared his throat. “You still need to return those items to Keith Merrick, you know.”

Peter’s face flushed in embarrassment. “I know, Dad.”

“If Eva says it’s okay, you can help with the horse again.”

Eddie helped Peter down the stairs of the apartment and then handed him his crutches. Another day or so and Peter could probably start putting more weight on the foot, and within a week, he’d be back to normal.

Thankfully. We were all grateful for the life that had been spared, and it seemed to fuel everyone on the ranch to spend each day to the fullest.

Something had truly changed within Peter, and we all felt it. He asked about Phantom constantly and pitched in with his father and Warren on some of the farm repairs. Though at first he had been so resistant to getting involved and lowering his wall, the boy now spent almost every moment with Phantom and helped me feed and water him.

But Peter’s accident still replayed in my nightmares. If it wasn’t the singe of bullet casings, it was the rattle of snakes.

Eddie still seemed a bit shaken by it all too, but I tried to give him his own space to process. He worked more than I felt like he should fixing up the cabins, especially in anticipation of another soldier coming to help.

Warren was picking up Lucky from the airport now. I looked forward to seeing the former private again—the one I’d treated my last day in Kötzting. I’d pulled Warren’s stitches out before he left, grateful for one less medical concern on the grounds.

And at least Annie and Peter were both busy with the animals and never-ending chores. Dare I hope for a moment of calm in the chaos?

We’d put a water trough in Phantom’s pen and had several days of successfully catching and haltering him. Today, I wanted to test him in a new environment.

“Can you open and close the gate for me, Peter?” I asked as we inched toward Phantom’s pen.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The brush with death had done wonders for his manners.

The wound on my arm was healing slowly, though it hampered my mobility. I gritted through the discomfort, put the halter over Phantom’s big gray head, and stroked his neck gently.

He snorted at me, still a bit nervous with every interaction.

I walked him in a circle in his pen, testing that he’d stop when I pulled easily on the lead rope. Then I nodded to Peter, who hobbled on his crutches to open the gate fully.

I led Phantom through the posts, onto soil where he’d never ventured during his first week at Birkstrom. His black eyes looked around the expanse, as if the lack of a wooden fence around him meant this place was entirely scary and unpredictable.

“Let’s go to the covered arena,” I called to Peter so he could meet us there. Phantom and I moved through several fenced paddocks and the two towering barns toward the rectangular arena tucked behind the second barn.

The arena was the shining star of Birkstrom—one hundred feet wide by two hundred feet long and covered by a huge metal roof. It kept us working and training horses even when there was two feet of snow outside. It offered shade from the boiling sun and a soft bed of dirt for all the times I’d fallen out of the saddle.

Phantom trotted a bit in place and shifted sideways nervously.

I let him take this slowly. Given his history, no small task could be taken for granted. Rebuilding his trust and giving him the confidence to not fear every human or location would take time.

We walked into the big arena, where the shade was a welcome relief. I closed the gate behind us and then unclipped Phantom’s lead rope from his halter. He flinched at the metallic noise and looked at me curiously.

I hoped my instincts were right, that he wouldn’t just tear off and frighten himself by this new environment. Thankfully, he didn’t. “Attaboy,” I whispered, petting his mane.

Phantom watched me, stayed shoulder to shoulder beside me.

Peter walked up to the wooden half wall of the arena and leaned against it, watching us with a smile. “What are you doing now?”

I smiled back. Peter wasn’t just brooding off to the side anymore. He wanted to know everything, be a part of every process.

“I want him to trust me, keep his focus on me.”

“Why?”