My chest constricted at the thought of what Shiloh had faced, but I forced my hands to keep stroking the gelding.
“I don’t want to cause him pain,” she said softly.
“You’re not. You’re teaching him that not all hands hurt.”
She bit the inside of her cheek and nodded, taking another step. Then another. She found a rhythm that worked for both her and the gelding. And, in a matter of minutes, she was standing next to me. So close, I felt her heat in the early spring air.
“Nice and slow. Raise a hand to pet his neck. Show him what you’re doing so he knows.”
Shiloh did as I instructed. Her fingers trembled slightly as she moved, and the gelding’s eyes locked on that hand. But as soon as it made contact with his neck and started to move in smooth strokes, he let out a breath.
“Feel that?” I asked.
“Like the first taste of air after being underwater for too long.”
My mouth curved the barest amount. “Good way to think about it.”
Shiloh didn’t need any more encouragement. She petted and patted, moving around the gelding until he’d all but turned intoa lap dog. I knew the feel of him from working this week, and this was the most relaxed he’d ever been.
“You’ve got the touch.”
Her eyes lifted to mine. “I’m trying to learn—”
I shook my head. “I’m not talking about something you can teach. This is instinct.”
Shiloh stroked the gelding’s cheeks and then lowered her head to his. “I always did understand horses a lot better than people.”
People were overrated. This kind of connection? It was far more precious.
She pressed her lips to the horse’s muzzle and then straightened. “I needed that. Thank you for giving it to me, Ramsey.”
And with that, she headed for the fence and her grazing horse. I was stuck, frozen to the spot, trying to take in all the beauty that was Shiloh as the sound of my name on her lips echoed in my head.
My truck jostledas I drove over Kenny Chambers’ cattle guard. I scanned the property as I headed towards the ranch house. Several cattle filled a field that barely had any grass, and more were in a handful of paddocks. I pulled to a stop and parked next to a rusted truck with no wheels.
Sliding out of my vehicle, I searched for any signs of life. As my gaze caught on a few horses, my jaw tightened. Most of them were skin and bones, and many had what appeared to be lash marks on their backs.
Memories flashed. The crack of the belt. The burn on my skin.
I forced the images and sensations from my mind, but my back teeth gnashed together so tightly I might’ve cracked a molar. The slam of a screen door had me looking up. A teenage boy hurried down the front porch steps with a younger boy on his heels. The older one was probably sixteen or seventeen. His t-shirt hung off him in a way that had me wondering if he was struggling to get food the way the horses were. The little boy couldn’t have been more than six, and he held tightly to the teen’s hand.
The older boy’s gaze bounced around as if looking for someone to jump out. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Kenny Chambers.”
The boy swallowed. “He’s not here right now. I’m his son, Aidan. Can I help you with something?”
He met my gaze, but there was uncertainty there, a guardedness that prickled the back of my neck. “I wanted to talk to him about buying your horses.”
I glanced at the cattle. I should probably see about buying them, too, but I didn’t do cows. Maybe I could send them to the animal sanctuary that had opened in the past couple of years. Or give them to a rancher who would treat them decently.
Aidan’s eyes widened. “You want to buy our horses?”
I shifted my focus to the five creatures in the paddock. They’d obviously been through hell. Most looked as if they’d given up. But one mare had wild eyes that told me she was still fighting.
“They deserve some peace, don’t you think?”
“You should take ‘em, mister. Dad isn’t nice to them, and now they bite and kick—”