Hadley looked towards the house and then back at me. “Whenever things got to be too much, you walked away. But you did it silently. You took a few days, went riding or camping, but you never had a conversation about what you were doing.” She paused. “It’s a hell of a lot harder when you have to stand up for yourself against someone pushing back.”
A smile stretched across her face as she leaned towards me. She didn’t touch me, but she was so close, I felt her warmth. “I’m so damn happy for you. It’s time. You’re ready for this.”
My eyes stung with a viciousness that had me swallowing hard. “No one else seems to think so.”
Hadley’s gaze wandered to the house again. “I was younger when it happened. The rest of them…they were supposed to look out for you. I think, to them, you’re frozen at ten. It’s going to take some time to make them realize that you aren’t that terrified little girl anymore.”
“I am terrified.”
She turned back to me, white-blond hair catching in the breeze. “That just makes you human. It’s what you do with that fear that counts.”
8
RAMSEY
I held out my hand,and the gelding took the offered peppermint eagerly. His lips danced as he ate the treat, and then he let out what could only be considered sounds of joy. A chuckle escaped me. “I think I’ve got your name.”
My hand rubbed over his face, and the horse didn’t even flinch. “What do you think about Pep?” It worked on a few levels. There was an unbreakable spirit to the gelding—a true pep. His love of peppermint just secured it.
Pep wiggled his lips a little more. Whether it was in agreement with his name or to beg for more treats, I wasn’t sure. I slid another mint out of my back pocket. “This is your last one. Then we need to introduce you to some new friends.”
Pep snatched up the peppermint in a flash, dancing his lips some more. I grinned as I hooked the lead rope to his halter. “We’re going together this time.”
His ears twitched as I unlocked the gate and led him out of the round pen. His gaze jumped around, taking in the fields and pastures with a new attentiveness.
I patted Pep’s neck and began walking. I had him set up with some of my mellowest horses. I called them the welcome wagonbecause they put up with more than the rest of the herd. They were the perfect test case for socialization.
Pep sniffed the air as we approached the paddock. The mare and two geldings in the field chomped away on lush grass, barely acknowledging us. But Pep’s muscles quivered.
I stroked the side of his neck as we stopped at the gate. “It’s the next step. Time for some friends. Some community.”
It would give him a sense of purpose and belonging. These horses were some of my best teachers, modeling behavior and showing the newcomers the way of things.
I scratched behind Pep’s ears. “You’ve got this.”
Unlatching the gate, I pulled it open and unhooked the lead rope from Pep’s halter. He took a few tentative steps inside. My mare, Strawberry, lifted her head and let out a soft whinny. Pep answered back and then took off running.
It had been a while since he’d had a chance to truly stretch his legs, and it was a beautiful sight to see. He raced along the fence line, letting loose a few small bucks on the way. But they weren’t ones of aggression, they were joyful.
The other horses in the paddock knew it. A few seconds later, they joined him in the run, and four became one—a single force charging around the field.
I couldn’t have moved if I tried. It was so damned beautiful to see. After a few minutes, they slowed from gallop to canter to trot and then to a walk. Finally, they halted altogether, finding a spot of especially thick grass and stopping to graze.
Pep’s head lifted, his gaze meeting mine. I swore his eyes shined in the morning light. There was joy there. Relief. Peace. It was the greatest gift I’d ever gotten.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I slid it out. An alert for the front gate flashed. I opened the app, and Shiloh’s face filled the screen.
The surge of heat through my bloodstream set off alarm bells in my head, but I shoved them away and hit the button for the intercom. “Shiloh.”
She jumped slightly at my voice. “H-hi.”
I hated the slight tremor in her voice, but I understood it. She had never lived anywhere but the ranch. What she was doing now was a huge undertaking.
“The hardest part’s over. You’re here.”
Shiloh let out a huff of air and then bit the inside of her cheek. “You said I couldn’t bring anyone here, right?”
I stiffened. “I don’t let strangers on my property.” Except it seemed I was breaking that rule left and right lately.