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Chapter 1

Eli Murphy stared at his younger brother Boone. At thirty-six and thirty-one respectively, four and a half years lay between them, yet there were times like this when Eli felt like a father trying to rein in his overly eager son.

“I thought we were taking this slow, one horse at a time.”

Boone clapped Eli on the shoulder. “We are, big bro. We are.” He flicked the brim of Eli’s cattleman, and a small growl escaped the older Murphy brother’s lips.

“If you’re trying to get on my good side,” Eli began, “you’re doing it wrong.”

Boone laughed as if Eli had been kidding. But Eli didn’t joke about ranching or horses. He narrowed his eyes at the elephant in the room, which was actually the trailer attached to Boone’s truck on which his brother now leaned. The horse-filled trailer.

Eli pointed at the barn. “You’ve got Cirrus in there who is nowhere close to being done with his rehabilitation. He may be good with you and Casey, but his anxiety with new riders needs further treatment.”

At least that was the best excuse Eli could come up with on short notice. Scratch that. No notice. Boone had given him zero warning that he was showing up with a new resident for the barn. And now he expected Eli to, what, smile and nod like this was everything he’d always wanted? What Eli wanted was to forget he’d agreed to reopen the Murphy family’s ranch and just go back to his quiet life as a quiet veterinarian who minded his own quiet business one quiet day at a time. Did he mention he liked quiet?

“I’m still in treatment for my own anxiety,” Boone replied, unaware that his brother’s inner monologue was scrambling for any excuse to shut…this…down. “Hell,” he continued, “probably will be for life, but you still let me out of the barn every now and then.” Boone crossed his arms and flashed Eli his best shit-eating grin.

Eli sighed and briefly lifted his hat. He ran a hand through his hair, somehow hoping the gesture would buy him time to think. He knew Boone wasn’t giving up until he pleaded his entire case. And even then, the younger Murphy would poke and prod the grumpy bear he likely viewed his older brother to be until Eli relented. One way or another, Boone Murphy always got his way. That was how it had been with their parents, and it became the dynamic between the brothers as well.

“What’s his story?” Eli finally asked, nodding toward the trailer.

“Her story,” Boone corrected. “Name’s Midnight. Picked her up in Sacramento from a family that didn’t find her useful anymore if she couldn’t compete. Can you believe that? Assholes.”

Eli narrowed his eyes. “What’s her story, Boone?”

Eli’s brother squinted toward the sun as if he had to ask the sky for the answer. Finally, he met Eli’s gaze again. “She…uh…she fractured her radius… On the left side.” He winced.

“Christ, Boone.” Eli pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “That’s a hell of an injury. Was she a show horse?”

Boone nodded. “At least they wanted her to be. But I think they worked her too hard, had her trying things she wasn’t ready for, because she’s a little skittish with—um—people.”

Eli threw his hands in the air. “Didn’t we just establish that we already have one skittish horse to deal with? Now we’ve got a seriously injured skittish mare?”

“She already had surgery,” Boone assured him. “Fully recuperated. But the owners can’t be bothered to rehab her. Said they have three other horses, though none as pretty as this one if you ask me.” Boone waggled his brows, but Eli wasn’t about to encourage him. Finally, Boone sighed, his expression growing serious. “Eli, the owner flat out said they don’t have time to deal with a mare who limps.” He leaned forward and whispered, “They were gonna euthanize her. Caught wind of it from a trainer I know in town, and I just…I couldn’t leave her when I knew we could help her.”

Dammit. Of course he wasn’t going to let a perfectly healthy mare be euthanized. Eli shook his head and muttered, “Assholes.”

Midnight whinnied from inside the trailer, seemingly aware that she was the topic of conversation.

Boone straightened and pivoted toward the trailer. “It’s okay, girl. I think we convinced him.”

“It’s called manipulation,” Eli grumbled. “You got her papers?”

His brother laughed, gave the trailer a gentle pat, then turned back to face him.

“I have the record of sale, but the owners said they trashed her passport prior to euthanizing. Decided since she wasn’t competition worthy anymore that neither was the record of the few things she’d already accomplished before her injury.”

Eli clenched his jaw. “Record of sale? They charged you for her?”

Boone shook his head with incredulity and let out a bitter laugh. “Oh yeah. This guy Morrison is a real piece of work. He thought she was worthless but decided if I found value in her, it was only fair I compensate him for that value. Went on and on about how her breed is scarce in these parts, that she’d be worth a pretty penny if she wasn’t lame. Do you believe that shit? Charged me twice as much as he’d have paid to put her down. What was I supposed to do?”

Find another vet, Eli wanted to tell him. Stop spending money our one-horse ranch doesn’t actually have. He had plenty of comebacks for his little brother, but none of them would have saved the mare like Boone had. None of them would have put that proud smile on Boone’s face like showing up with a horse in need had. Eli tried to imagine what he would have done had he been in Sacramento rather than Boone. Would he have saved the mare of his own volition? Or would he have made every excuse to himself not to, just to protect himself from reopening doors to his past?

He was pretty sure he knew the answer, which meant he was also pretty sure Midnight’s former owners weren’t the only assholes Boone had come across this week.

“How the hell do you look so damned—”

“Happy?” Boone interrupted.

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