Page 1

Chapter 1

Bodhi

I’d always been an early riser. Even as a newborn, which for my teenage parents who were sixteen and trying to finish high school, was a nightmare. But it served me well, first as a rancher’s kid and then as a Marine. It wasn’t something I was looking to change. My cats certainly appreciated it.

Gremlin, who appeared on the ranch the same day I came home for good, still preferred to spend most of her days roaming the stable. But she came in through the cat door every night, ate what I fed her, and then slept until breakfast so she could wander out again. Gimlet, on the other hand, showed up the day I broke ground on The Yellow Ribbon Horse Retreat. He had an eye infection, a broken front leg, and didn’t even make a sound when I scooped him up to take him to the vet. The next day he came home without the eye, the leg, or his balls. He’d made himself at home, first in my room at the house, and then taken over when I’d moved to the apartment above the admin building at the Yellow Ribbon.

They’d been my constant companions as I embarked on this new journey of my life. I’d thought I’d had my whole life planned. I was going to put in my twenty with Corps before returning to the ranch and finding my place. The opportunity to apply to Drill Instructor school had been a surprise, but I’d taken it. It had been the best choice for me. As much as I missed action, I no longer had to worry about not coming home from a deployment.

Then everything changed in a blink of an eye and I could no longer serve my country.

But I couldn’t think about that. I was still working through things with my therapist two years later, and though my dad knew what had happened, I hadn’t told anyone else. Instead, I threw myself into the Yellow Ribbon, making it the place I needed it to be.

When I came home, I quickly learned that, even though horses were still in my blood, fifteen years away had made my skills rusty. My youngest brother Keegan called my idea “horsey sleep away camp,” and he wasn’t wrong. My vision had been to create a place where riders and horses could come to learn new skills, or perfect old ones, learn good habits, and build confidence. A year in and I was already turning a profit. A small one to be sure, but we were in the black.

As my cats and I went about our morning routine, I couldn’t help the pride that filled me as I looked out the window at all I’d built. The stables were pristine, the guest rooms immaculate, and the arenas and trails had everything needed to improve horsemanship. Even the dining hall and kitchen were high-end, if not exactly state of the art, and I had a Michelin starred chef to cook for the patrons. Nick Wilder was another mystery, but he did his job, and seemed happy enough to work for me, so I wasn’t going to complain.

He was in the kitchen tapping aggressively at his tablet when I wandered in for coffee. I kept glancing at him as I filled my cup, then took a sip of the burning hot brew as I leaned a hip against the counter. Wilder spared me a glance, and I could see his agitation.

“What’s up?” I asked, eyeing him.

He didn’t bother looking at me. “I hate the long sessions.”

I snorted a laugh. “No you don’t.”

He grunted but that was all the admission I was going to get. We had two different length sessions for our programs. Shorter ones that were only four days, Wednesday through Saturday, and longer ones that went from Monday through Saturday. It all depended on what kind of skills we were showcasing. The six-day sessions were more popular, it seemed, and I understood why. Trailering a horse from god knew what distance was better when you didn’t have to turn around and do it again only a few days later. Plus, people really seemed to enjoy the “horsey sleep away camp” aspect of it, and we certainly tried to play up the fun parts in the evenings.

Wilder liked it best when he had people to cook for and even though he wasn’t the most personable of people, he didn’t have to actually interact with the guests. Much, anyway. But what he did like to do was complain, and I was fine with that as long as he kept producing quality meals.

I was about to ask if there was anything he needed from me, but an alert on my phone diverted my attention. Motion detected at the gate that separated my part of the property from the rest of the ranch. I didn’t bother to actually check the camera, since only family members or employees came from that direction. So instead, I headed outside to see who had decided to make the mile or so trek without giving me a heads up. I easily clocked the horse and rider, recognizing Ruger since the mare’s blaze was unique, before her rider. It was only when Tommy reined her in close that I realized he wasn’t alone.

I reached up to help Payton off the back of the horse, but instead of my nephew letting me lift him down, he threw himself at me. I hugged the seven-year-old close and turned wide eyes on Tommy. He’d worked part time for us all throughout high school, full time since he graduated this past May, but was going to leave us soon to begin his next journey in life.

Tommy tipped his cap back and shrugged. “I’m just the delivery driver.”

I rubbed Payton’s back and squeezed him tighter, knowing he liked that. What was really the big surprise was that he was being this touchy feely with me. On the whole, he wasn’t a physically affectionate kid, unless it was with his dads or his grandparents.

“Pay?” I asked gently.

“I need help,” he murmured, and I heard the worry in his tone.

“Well, you know I got your six,” I said. At my words, some of the tension left his little body and he took a deep, shuddery breath. He loosened his death grip around my neck and then leaned so he could see my face. He studied me hard for a few seconds.

“That means you’ve got my back, right, Uncle Bodhi?”

“Ooh rah,” I agreed.

He nodded and let his hands slip down, so I set him on his feet. He stood there, staring up at me for a long few seconds, and I got that whatever he wanted to say was a big deal. With deft fingers, I unclipped his helmet, pushed a hand through his slightly damp hair, and then jerked my chin toward the building I’d just come out of.

“Why don’t you hit the head and wash up, then ask Nick for a couple of juices and meet me in my office?”

Pay nodded again, and then ran into the building. I watched him go for a moment, then turned my attention back to Tommy, who shrugged again.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” he said, and I caught the hint of worry in his gaze. “He tracked me down at Barn 3, asked me to bring him here, and willingly got on a horse. So I’m guessing it’s serious.”

For all that he’d lived on a ranch for most of his life—first on his family’s cattle ranch before it went tits up and then here since he was four—Payton was not an outdoorsy kind of kid. His father, Mal, was one of the best horsemen I knew, but Pay didn’t care for dirt and bugs and weather. While my other niblings ran around barefoot with hay in their hair, Pay could be found with a book, usually inside.

“Do his dads know?”