“Couldn’t even get a halter on her,” Lor answered.
Ramsey looked to me. “Be ready. She could try to bolt.”
I nodded, tightening my grip on the gate.
Ramsey pulled open the door to the trailer, and the mare leapt out, bucking and whinnying. Ramsey shut the door and latched it back into place. “Move the trailer.”
Lor jumped behind the wheel, and I moved the gate closed as she did, looping the chain back into place. Fast hoofbeats had me looking up.
The mare tore around the pen so fast she was a blur. But the snapshots I caught broke my heart. Her ribs stood out against her coat, and the wild look in her eyes spoke of a deep-seated fear.
Ramsey stood in the center of the ring and waited. Like so many times before, he stood by patiently as she tired herself out. It didn’t take long. This horse was too malnourished. Her gallop slowed to a trot and then a walk. Finally, she stilled altogether.
I sucked in a sharp breath. Scars crisscrossed her side and the bridge of her nose. The ones on her face spoke of someone fighting her while she had a halter or bridle on. But the ones on her side? Those were punishment.
My throat burned as it constricted. I’d gotten so good at holding the tears back, but they fought to get free. The mare’s gaze locked with mine.
My fingers tightened around the fence rail, the wood biting into my palms. There was such despair in those eyes, but there was desperation, too. The combination was one that I knew too well.
I vowed then and there that I’d do anything to help this horse find her freedom.
10
RAMSEY
The strandsof gold woven throughout Shiloh’s braid caught the afternoon light as her head tilted to the side. I traced the little pops of light with my gaze—sparks hidden to most except those really paying attention.
Everything about Shiloh was calm and steady. She sat cross-legged at the side of the round pen with what looked like a small picnic set out in front of her. Everything was arranged just so. A sandwich carefully unwrapped. A water bottle with the lid off. An apple sliced in precise shapes. And my traitor of a dog curled up at her side.
She didn’t focus on the mare in the pen; only occasionally lifted her gaze to the horse. But it never stayed. It traveled back to the food in front of her, to Kai, to the mountains and landscape around us. I stayed hidden in the shadows of my front porch, watching.
I’d spent much of the day yesterday with the mare. I hadn’t struggled this much with a horse in years. And this morning had been much the same. She wouldn’t let me close and showed no signs of choosing to close the distance between us.
Shiloh had watched silently as I worked with the mare. The only hint of emotion I saw from her had been the purse of herlips. She hadn’t said a word, but she had eaten each of her meals beside the pen. I didn’t ask why. The one thing I knew about Shiloh was that her heart called out to these creatures. She felt their pain as if it were her own. I was sure she didn’t want this mare to feel alone. And this was her small way of reassuring the animal.
Shiloh scratched behind Kai’s ears and nuzzled his head. The mare’s ears twitched—the first hint of interest I’d seen from her. Shiloh bit into her sandwich and tipped her face up to the sun.
Her braid fell farther down her back as her neck arched. My gut tightened, a stirring of something I hadn’t felt in decades. Something I’d never let myself feel. The sun’s rays hit the apples of Shiloh’s cheeks, showing off the rosy hue that matched her lips.
An image popped into my head of my hand tugging on that braid. Of my mouth taking hers. I swore I could taste her on my tongue.
I gave my head a quick shake. Dumb. So monumentally stupid I didn’t even have the words for it.
The mare took two steps in Shiloh’s direction, and my breath caught.
Shiloh seemed to sense the movement. She slowly lowered her chin and opened her eyes. The mare halted.
Shiloh didn’t show any signs of reaction. Instead, she reached down for a slice of apple and leaned forward. She slid her hand between the rails of the fence and waited.
I didn’t move a millimeter as I studied the two. Shiloh had her own gift of patience, it seemed. Her hand didn’t waver as she waited.
She tipped her head against Kai’s, and he lapped at her face. The faint strains of her laughter caught on the wind. That hint of huskiness from her voice extended to her laughter.
The mare took another two steps, sniffing the air. My fingers tightened on the porch rail.
Shiloh kissed my dog on the top of his head and then smiled up at the horse. The mare bent, stretching out her neck. It would’ve been so tempting for Shiloh to move her hand to close the distance, but she didn’t. She waited.
The horse nipped the slice of apple and darted away. Shiloh didn’t react to that either. She simply pulled her hand back and picked up another piece of apple for herself. I couldn’t help but grin.