17
SHILOH
I leanedagainst the rails of the round pen as Ramsey waited Onyx out. She was in a mood today and had made her opinion about Ramsey in her space crystal clear. As if to punctuate my point, she kicked out at him.
I sucked in a sharp breath as her hoof narrowly missed Ramsey’s hip. I would’ve been cursing up a storm, but the only reaction he showed was to flick his training flag in her direction, drawing a boundary on his space.
Onyx let out a huff of air and gave a healthy buck. Ramsey simply held his ground.
“I don’t know how he stays so calm,” Aidan said softly.
I looked over at the teen. His gaze was riveted on Ramsey, a true case of hero worship in his eyes. While Elliott had given up watching the training, opting to lay in the grass with Kai, Aidan hadn’t moved from this spot for an hour.
“He’s got more patience than anyone I’ve ever seen.”
Aidan swallowed, his focus not moving from Ramsey and Onyx. “That’s a gift. Most people aren’t capable of that kind of thing.”
He was right, but I hated that he knew that at such a young age. Hated that his father was likely the one who had taught him that lesson. That he’d seen the man hurt these animals.
“You are. You’re learning it here every day.”
Aidan looked over at me. “You think?”
“I’ve seen the way you are with the horses here. Gentle but firm. And the longer you work with Ramsey, the more you’re finding that balance.”
Aidan’s cheeks blushed under my praise. “I hope so. If I didn’t have school, I could work more hours here. I talked to one of my teachers about maybe getting my GED instead.”
I bit the side of my mouth, trying to hold back my strong reaction. “You’ve got time to work more hours here. You’ve only got a little over a year left of school.”
He deflated, his gaze traveling back to the ring. “A lot can happen in a year.”
I searched for the right words. I wasn’t good at saying the right thing, but I wanted to with Aidan—he deserved that and more. When nothing came, I decided something was better than nothing: brutal honesty.
“I’m not good at finding the right words.”
Aidan’s gaze flicked to me.
“But you should know. It seems like where you are now will last forever, but it won’t. Even the worst pain isn’t forever. It passes. Changes. It might come back now and then, but it never lasts forever. All we can do is make the best of where we’re at—finishing school, giving yourself as many options as possible. That seems like making the best of things. At least, to me.”
A hint of a smile played on his lips. “Seems like you’re pretty good at words to me.”
I chuckled and knocked my shoulder against Aidan’s. There was no flicker of panic or grating sensation on my skin. Therewas only the need to let Aidan know that I was here for him if he needed me.
We turned back to the round pen, focusing on Ramsey and Onyx. He’d closed some of the distance with her. She was tense but allowed it.
“Shiloh,” Ramsey said, his voice low, “why don’t you come into the ring?”
Excitement hummed under my skin—the first real sense of pleasure since the funeral yesterday. The shock of seeing Ian was free. The rollercoaster of wondering if he was out for good or just on a pass for the funeral.
I ducked between the fence rails. Onyx’s nostrils flared. We’d developed a bit of a rapport, but she didn’t like two people in her space.
“Walk over to me, nice and easy.”
I did as he instructed.
“You’re going to take point on this.”
My head snapped in his direction. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea…”