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I was tactical air control. Otherwise known as the guys who called in air strikes from the ground, right in the middle of the battlefield.

It was my life—my whole identity—’til it wasn’t.

But thanks to Andy Harvey and Silver Creek, I’ve got a new life. One I never predicted and that I’m still struggling to adjust to, but one that’s given me something to do.

…and a beautiful bay mare to care for.

Buttercup lifts her head when I reach her stall. By how she moves, I can tell right away that she’s exhausted. Her eyes still soften for me, nuzzling my palm when I reach for her.

“Hey, pretty girl,” I murmur. “Heard you’re under the weather. That makes two of us.”

Buttercup’s got a fever, and I’ve got three herniated discs. Between us, we’re not doing so hot. But at least she’ll recover soon.

It looks like the new vet’s already started her on fluids and antibiotics. Whoever this guy is, he knows what he’s doing.

“The new vet’s good,” Joaquin says from behind me. “Ridge seems to like her.”

“It’s a woman?”

“Sure is. Pretty easy on the eyes too. Though maybe a little older. Don’t know for sure—Miss Bee says it’s rude to ask a lady her age.”

“I’m thinking Miss Bee’s probably right.” I rub the spot between Buttercup’s ears, and she leans even more into the touch. “So long as Buttercup likes this new vet, then she’s fine by me.”

For the next few minutes, I’m with the unwell mare, letting her rest her chin against my shoulder while I scratch along her neck.

Caring for Buttercup helps me forget about my own discomfort.

Hot pain burns through my lower back, sometimes strong enough to make me wince. My jaw clamps down, and I battle through it like I always do.

Silently. Secretly. Unknown to most.

A skill I’ve been perfecting since the Air Force taught me how to jump out of planes, and it hasn’t failed me yet.

“Hen House tonight?” Joaquin asks. “Haven’s Chicks are playing. Should be a good crowd.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You never come out. Not like you used to during our active-duty days. Figured you’d be a sure bet when I found out you were coming to Silver Creek.”

My back is telling me to go home early, even though I came in late. The pain killers are already wearing off, and the spasms are starting up.

But I work my jaw and then give a nod. “Alright, you’ve got a point. I’m in.”

A Friday night doesn’t go by without a large crowd at The Hen House. The bar is almost always packed wall to wall, full of people who’ve been working hard all week and are ready to let loose a little.

When me, Joaquin, and a few of the other ranch hands show up, Haven’s Chicks are on the stage. Their lead singer is belting out a cover that’s got half the bar singing along. The other half is two-stepping on the dance floor.

The energy’s infectious.

It puts a grin on my face as the guys head over to their usual table. I join them at first, laughing at the jokes we crack and the stories that get passed around.

Jeb Morris tells us about how he fell on his ass wrangling cattle. Ricky Huston whistles as he tells us about the new eye candy he spotted around the ranch.

It takes me half a moment to realize he’s talking about the new vet.

Joaquin nods along. “Was telling Rhett about her earlier. Took real good care of his girl too.”

“About did a double take when Andy brought her by,” Ricky says.