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“None.”
“Then what did you find?” Trent asked, his voice strained with frustration.
“Nothing,” Glen said, sliding a cup of coffee across the table to Trent. “No trace of the parasite, no pathogens at all. It didn’t make sense. So I heard to search harder.”
Trent stared blankly into the dark liquid as if searching for answers in its depths. Confusion swirled in his mind, mixing with a growing sense of dread.
Glen sipped his coffee and leaned back in his chair, his face grave. “It was only when we analyzed Thunder’s blood that we found something was off.”
Trent was thankful that Professor Packard had been leading the investigation into the samples. Others might not have bothered. “What was wrong with the blood samples?”
“Extremely elevated levels of selenium,” Glen revealed, his voice heavy with concern.
Trent’s brow furrowed, trying to make sense of the information. “Just how elevated are we talking?”
“Off the charts,” Glen replied somberly, meeting Trent’s gaze. “There are two possible explanations. Either someone had been accidentally over-supplementing Thunder’s feed for months, or... someone purposefully added a dangerous amount of selenium to the horse’s feed on purpose, in a single meal.”
Trent felt as though someone had punched him in the gut. He shook his head in disbelief, his mind racing with thoughts of his beloved horses and the ranch he had dedicated his life to protecting. It made sense though. Acute selenium poisoning would account for the hair loss, as well as the other dangerous symptoms that had taken Thunder’s life.
“That... it can’t be. Chuck is in charge of the horses’ feed, and there’s no way he would have gotten that wrong, especially over and over again. I trust my brother completely.”
Glen nodded. “I believe you, Trent. But the fact remains that Thunder’s selenium levelsweredangerously high.“ Glen’s brow furrowed as he continued, “Trent, you need to understand my concern here. If it gets out that Thunder died from poisoning—a totally avoidable death—the government could shut down your ranch.”
That truth hit Trent like a ton of bricks, making his heart sink. Suddenly, Glen’s desire to discuss the results in person made perfect sense. He’d been trying to protect Trent. He nodded slowly, swallowing hard. “Thanks for telling me, Glen. I appreciate it.”
“You’re a good kid, Trent. Great student, too.”
Trent grimaced. It was the first time he’d been called a kid for a long time.
“You enjoying your work? Getting what you hoped you would from getting back to research?”
Professor Packard smiled. “I am. Teaching is good — great, even. But this, helping with diagnoses, actively making a difference in the lives of animals… it makes me feel alive. Just had to accept that academia, wasn’t for me.”
“Glad to hear it,” Trent said.
“How about you?” Professor Packard asked. “You still with your sweetheart? What was she called, Erica?”
Trent’s throat went dry. Holy shit. Professor Packard had known Erica. Not even his brothers knew about Erica.
“N-no,” he said. “Not with Erica anymore.”
Glen, as sharp as a tack, asked, “What happened, son?”
Trent sighed deeply. Was he really about to do this? To talk about Erica? About what had happened? “It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got coffee, don’t we? Tell me all about it while we drink these, and then we need to figure out what happened to Thunder.”
Trent nodded. He really wasn’t in the mood for this chat. There was so much on his mind right now. Things were in such a mess that he hardly knew where to start. But at the same time, he had never really processed what happened with Erica. Never had the chance to talk to anyone else about it. Maybe if he could let it out here and now, it could stop haunting him like it did.
“Erica was special to me,” Trent admitted, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “She was kind and sweet, but… we weren’t totally compatible.”
He wasn’t going to go into details about the fact that Erica was a sub but not a Little—he didn’t think that Professor Packard would be familiar with BDSM niches and sub-cultures.
“After we graduated, I got a placement on a ranch in Utah. It was my first job, and I was in charge of equine medicine. It was a big deal for me. Erica, came with me, finding work at the ranch as a stable hand. It wasn’t her dream, but I thought she could be happy.”
As he spoke, images of Erica’s smile and gentle touch flashed through his mind. She hadn’t been right for him, but she’d been a good person.
“She hated the ranch. Hated it.”
