Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
A horse came over the rise like a shadow, and Syn straightened to gaze at it with the respect it deserved.
The animal was enormous. Almost seventeen hands at the withers, maybe more, with a jet-black coat glistening like velvet under the setting sun and a long black mane that moved like silk.
His head was high, ears alert, and every step he made radiated power and command.
And Fox was on his back.
He wore a black ball cap with the ranch logo stitched across the front, a matching black T-shirt hugging the lean strength of his torso, worn jeans under black chaps, and dusty cowboy boots.
He held the reins loosely in one hand, almost lazily, as if the huge animal beneath him obeyed because it wanted to, not because it was being forced.
Syn smiled for the first time in weeks. It felt strange.
“You were always the show-off on your squad.” Syn shook his head as Fox approached. “I see some things never change.”
Fox’s grin was cunning as ever.
He brought the horse to a stop a few feet away and swung down effortlessly. Annoyingly so. He landed in the dirt, dropped the reins, and the horse stayed glued to his side.
Syn looked him over. “What kind of horse is he?”
Fox stroked the horse’s neck. “Arabian. His name’s Diablo. Bull rescued him a few years ago.”
Syn eyed the animal and Diablo stared right back.
“He doesn’t look very friendly. Which I assume is why his name means the devil in Spanish.”
“For a long time, he wouldn’t let anyone touch him. Couldn’t get near him, much less ride him. He used to bite, kick stall doors in half,” Fox said, sliding his hand over the horse’s glossy shoulder.
“What changed?”
Fox’s smile turned smug. “He met me.”
Syn snorted.
“You know I have that effect on men.” Fox patted Diablo’s neck. “Turns out animals too.”
Syn laughed, and the sound surprised him enough that he almost stopped.
Fox noticed it but didn’t make a big deal of it. He walked up and embraced him, one arm hard around his shoulders, the other thumping against his back.
It was genuine. Brotherly. Understanding. So much that he held on for an extra second.
When they parted, Fox tipped his head toward the barns. “Walk with me to the stables. I need to brush him down. You can brush his friend, Nimbus. He’s a good boy. You’ll like him. Then we’ll put your stuff in the house after.”
Syn gave Diablo a wary look. “I’ve never been around horses.”
“You can trust Nimbus. He’s a young quarter horse, eight years old. He’s all love and compassion.”
They walked in silence.
Diablo followed Fox without needing the reins, black mane shifting, hooves quiet on the packed dirt.
Syn took in more of the ranch as they went.
The place was a full working operation, not some rich-man fantasy playing rancher.
As the day wound to an end, employees were tending to the animals and shutting down for the night.
He saw a lot of sweat, brows being wiped, and shirts damp at the spine.
Two women walked past in khaki pants and green ranch shirts, both carrying clipboards.
They slowed, grinning in his direction.
One had dark curls tied high and a smile that radiated, even at dusk. The other had red hair braided over one shoulder, freckles across her nose, and eyes that swept over his whole body with outrageous confidence.
“Who’s your friend, Fox?” the redhead asked.
“Buddy from Atlanta,” he said.
“Buddy got a name?” the brunette smiled.
Syn tried not to stare back, but damn. Those women were not shy.
“Syn,” he said.
“Mm,” she hummed. “That fits.”
The redhead laughed. “I’m EmmaJean.”
“Louisa,” the brunette added. “Holler if you need anything…that is of course if you’d prefer to make me holler.”
Syn blinked. Good Lord. What the—?
Fox made a sharp sound. “Keep walking.”
Syn looked after them despite himself.
Louisa winked, still laughing.
Fox shook his head. “Stay clear of those two, brother. Absolute maneaters. They’ll feast on you and spit out the bones when they’re done.”
Syn laughed again. “You speaking from experience?”
“I’m speaking from watching grown-ass cowboys fall in love after one night.”
“They work here?”
“Louisa runs livestock operations, and EmmaJean’s the trail boss,” Fox said. “Between the two of them, they can wrangle horses, ranch hands, tourists, and stupid city men with thick wallets. Not always in that order.”
The first stable stood beside the largest barn with its wide doors already open.
Inside, the air changed. It was cooler, rich with hay, leather, cedar and that earthy animal scent that should’ve been unpleasant but somehow wasn’t. Dim orange sunlight filtered through high windows in long, dusty beams.
Stalls lined both sides, each with clean bedding, nameplates, water buckets, and big, curious heads peering out as Fox and Diablo walked through.
“This is where we keep the staff horses,” Fox said, leading Diablo toward a grooming bay with thick rubber mats on the floor. “Lesson horses and guest horses are in the east barn. Rescue cases in the smaller one past the pond.”