Page 118 of Sunrise & Serenity

Chance chuckles. “Stubborn already.”

I huff a tired breath through my nose. “Runs in the bloodline.”

Beside me, Sage laughs under her breath.

I look down at her. There’s sawdust in her hair and dirt smudged along her jaw, but her eyes are shiny and her cheeks are flushed.

Fucking perfect.

She catches me watching her, and her lips tilt inquisitively. “What?”

“Just looking.”

Our gazes hold for a beat before the foal wobbles toward his mother, one leg sliding sideways before he catches himself again.

The movement steals Sage’s attention. “It’s incredible,” she whispers. “I didn’t think it’d feel like this.”

When the foal finds the teat and finally latches on, the mare blows out a long breath, ears flicking back. The remaining tension leaves Chance’s shoulders. He shakes his head. “Hell of a colt.”

“He better be,” I say. “Considering how much you paid.”

“Worth it if he turns out anything like his sire.”

Sage looks from me to my brother. “This is the one you bought at the auction?”

He nods. “If the colt’s strong…” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “It could mean a lot for Wild Ember.”

“No pressure,” she laughs.

I meet my brother’s eye over the top of her head and tip my chin at her.

He nods.

“This is your first foal. You get to name him,” I tell Sage.

Her eyes widen instantly. “Absolutely not.”

“Ranch rules,” Chance says.

“That’s not a real rule.”

I bite back a grin. “Remember what I said about rules?”

Rolling her lips together, she slants her gaze at me.

With a laugh, I prop myself up against the stall wall, taking a little of my weight off my feet for the first time in what feels like hours. Every muscle in my body suddenly feels heavy.

Sage looks down at the colt wobbling against his mother, a crease between her brows. Then a smile breaks across her face. “How about Trouble?”

Chance’s laugh startles the little guy, and he face-plants in the straw. “Yeah. That fits.”

“Definitely fits,” I mutter.

With a clap on my shoulder, my brother moves past me, heading for the tack room. “Still some coffee left if you want it.”

Then he’s gone, and the stall goes quiet.

Sage’s arm brushes mine, and she smiles as the colt bumps clumsily against his mother, still figuring out his legs. She’s transfixed by the animals, as if she’s forgotten the world outside this barn exists.