Prologue
Willow Quinn’s laughter mingled with the crackling of the campfire as she leaned back on her palms. The Montana sky stretched above her, an obsidian canvas dotted with stars that seemed to twinkle in time with the strumming of the guitar being played by Decker, a homegrown cowboy of Timber Falls. The cowboys from Timber Falls Ranch lounged around the campfire. Beside her, the flames from the fire illuminated Aubrey Hale’s shiny blond hair and cast a soft glow on Charly’s warm light brown eyes. A tightness in Willow’s chest unwound at the peace on her best friends’ expressions. They’d moved to Timber Falls to start over after their lives fell apart, one way or another, and they’d done just that.
They weren’t just surviving anymore. They were thriving.
As Decker strung a melody from his guitar, Gunner Wood’s voice rose, soulful and rich, weaving through the night air. He’d returned home from Nashville as his album failed to deliver. Willow didn’t get it—his voice was a dream. His song was of open roads and wild hearts, the kind that made you yearn for something more—a song that felt like freedom. Willow closed her eyes, letting the music envelop her, each note a balm to her heart that still bled if she paid attention to those wounds.
“You know,” Charly murmured, breaking the comfortable silence, flicking her brown curls over her shoulder, “sitting here makes it feel real. Moving into Jaxon’s house—” a gorgeous ranch-style house set next to a barn on the ranch that raised and sold quarter horses “—it’s like I’ve finally come home. Like, somehow, I should have always lived here.”
Willow smiled. “I’m starting to think when we first came to Timber Falls all those years ago, we should have just stayed.” They had arrived at the small town a stone’s throw away from Yellowstone Park on a backpacking trip after graduating college. They’d made a pact then that if they weren’t satisfied with their lives by twenty-eight years old, they’d move back to the town and open a bar to fix their lives before turning thirty. Seven years later after they’d made that pact, they’d fulfilled that promise, and it’d been their forever home for a couple of months now.
Aubrey’s blue eyes sparkled as she lifted her nearly empty glass. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Even Willow knew that since leaving her abusive ex-boyfriend, Niko, and her life in Portland, Oregon—working for a marketing company—behind, her definition of home had shifted. It was no longer a place to tread lightly. Home was starting to feel safe again, a refuge with friends who were more like family, surrounded by wilderness instead of the hustle and bustle of a busy city.
Tightness in her chest unfurled as she stared into the dancing fire, the scent of pine and campfire smoke filling the air. Here, surrounded by the people she loved and the vast beauty of the ranch, she could almost believe in the possibility of a life untouched by fear, a future where her heart could trust again.
A loud bark of laughter drew her attention, but as her gaze swept over the familiar faces illuminated by the flickering flames, she realized Charly and Jaxon were no longer among them. She couldn’t fight her smile. Charly was wildly in love, and they often silently vanished. No one asked questions.
“I’m going to whip up another batch of sangria,” Aubrey said, rising to her feet. “Need a refill?”
Willow nodded. “Definitely, thanks.” She watched as Aubrey walked away, her silhouette merging with the night until she disappeared into the house. The laughter and music continued around her, but as the minutes ticked by, the sudden awareness started to fill her that she was alone in the midst of cowboys she didn’t really know.
She hated the lingering trauma that Niko had left on her—the long scar on her cheek a constant reminder—but there was no outrunning it. She wrapped her arms around herself, the warmth from the fire no longer sufficient against the chill that had nothing to do with the night air. She stood abruptly, the log she’d been sitting on rolling back slightly at her departure. “Excuse me,” she murmured to no one in particular.
She moved swiftly across the ranch, the open field spread out before her, bathed in moonlight. As the sounds of the campfire and Gunner’s voice dimmed behind her, she exhaled slowly.
The horses greeted her approach with soft snorts and the shuffle of hooves. When she reached the fence, she grazed the soft fur of one of the horses, the dark brown horse. Here, in the quiet presence of these gentle creatures, she let the discomfort fall away.
“Hey there, big guy.” She brushed her fingers across his soft nose. The horse leaned in closer, and she wished she’d brought him an apple.
His ears perked forward when the soft crunch of boots came behind her. She straightened, and quickly glanced over her shoulder.
Eli Cole smiled. “It’s just me.”
The alarm quickening her heart slowly faded. Jaxon’s good friend, and Timber Falls cowboy, Eli had a presence about him that had screamedcalmfrom the very day she’d met him.He moved with a grace that belied his size, a quiet strength emanating from him.
“Everything okay?” he asked. His strong green eyes drew her in, and in them, there was no judgement—only kindness, but something that she could relate to—deep personal pain. Eli’s younger sister’s life had been darkened by abuse too.
“I’m okay,” she replied with a smile. Her gaze swept over him, taking in the rugged outline of his jaw, the tousled dark hair sticking out from beneath his tan-colored cowboy hat and the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. There was no denying it. Eli was gorgeous.
“Hope you don’t mind the company.” He stopped at the fence, leaning against it.
“Not one bit.” She smiled, not sure what it was about Eli that made her feel so...comfortable, considering around most men now, she felt like a mouse who’d scatter at one look. But Eli, from the day she’d met him, felt like a friend. A good one.
“Seems like you found a buddy,” he said, gesturing to the horse.
Turning back to the horse, she brushed over his nose again. “He’s a cutie. Gentle.”
“He is,” Eli said, running a hand over the horse’s neck. “Horses are honest. They don’t hide their feelings or try to be something they’re not.”
Her lips curved into a smile as she thought about how Eli always seemed to have the perfect answers, especially when it came to calming her worries.
“Would you like to go on a ride sometime?” he offered, a playful challenge lighting up his eyes. “I promise you, there’s nothing quite like feeling the world fall away beneath you when you’re on horseback.”
Her heart skipped a beat, and it had nothing to do with the idea of riding a horse. The same beat that happened every time she was around Eli. She could easily believe he was simply being kind, asking her to enjoy an outing as a friend, but she knew better. They had off-the-charts chemistry, something that at one time in her life she would have gobbled right up. But she couldn’t gothereagain. She was in her self-care-single era. “Maybe some time we could all go out,” she said, quickly looking to the horse again. “Although since I don’t know how to ride, just doing this might be the safer option.”
Eli chuckled, low and deep, possibly at her sidestepping his offer. “Nothing wrong with that.” Then his laughter faded to his smooth voice. “Being with horses can heal even the most broken things.”
