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“Bad owners. Hard life.”

I glance at Jude and catch the way his jaw tightens as he looks at her. There’s anger there, quiet but unmistakable, and somehow that makes the ache in my chest worse.

“Why?” My voice cracks.

“Wanted her to compete. Earn money.” His gaze stays on Indigo. “Used brute force and punishment instead of trust and care.”

I turn back to her, trying to imagine anyone looking at something this beautiful and seeing nothing but what they could get from her.

“And you can make her get better?”

Jude lets out a small laugh and shakes his head, his expression changing as he studies her. The anger is still there, but there’s something else beneath it now, something softer that makes it obvious how much he loves this horse.

“Can’t make her do anything.”

“Then how do you help her?”

He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes never leaving Indigo.

“You don’t ever force a horse to heal. You earn her trust first.”

Something about the words makes my chest tighten, but before I can figure out why, Jude holds out his hand toward her without moving any closer.

Indigo watches him but doesn’t budge.

“And if she never trusts you?”

Her eyes move between us, following every tiny movement, as if she’s waiting for one of us to prove that whatever she’s afraid of is about to happen again.

Jude just shrugs.

“Then I wait.”

I turn toward him. “How long?”

This time his eyes leave Indigo and meet mine.

“As long as she needs.”

Something in the way he says it makes me look away.

“What if she needs forever…” My voice comes out hoarse.

“Then I wait forever.”

For a moment, I don’t say anything.

I can’t.

I look back at Indigo instead, watching as Jude reaches into the bucket beside the stall and takes something from it before slowly holding his hand out to her.

One of her ears twitches, and her eyes drop to his hand before moving back to his face, but she stays exactly where she is.

So does Jude.

I watch them for what feels like forever, Jude standing there with his hand stretched out while Indigo remains pressed against the other side of the stall, watching him like she’s waiting for him to do something.

He doesn’t.