Page 150 of Finding His Redemption

“Good boy,” Jax said softly. “That’s good.”

He stroked the horse’s neck, feeling the powerful muscles beneath the smooth coat. The animal allowed the touch, though its body remained tense, ready to spring away at the slightest provocation.

“You ready to ride him?” Walker asked.

Jax nodded, though his gut tightened at the prospect. Lazy Susan had been stubborn but predictable. This horse was a live wire, all nervous energy and sharp intelligence.

Jonah appeared at the fence with a saddle and bridle. “Go slow with him,” he advised as he passed the gear over. “He’s got spirit but no meanness in him.”

Jax took his time with the tack, keeping his movements deliberate and his voice low as he talked through each step. The horse danced sideways once or twice but allowed himself to be saddled with minimal fuss. Echo remained nearby, her calm presence a steadying influence.

When it came time to mount, Jax drew a deep breath and swung himself into the saddle in one smooth motion. For a heartbeat, nothing happened—then the world exploded.

The horse bucked, back arching as it tried to unseat him. Jax gripped with his thighs, his body automatically finding the rhythm of the animal’s movements. The roan spun in a tight circle, snorting with indignation, but Jax moved with it rather than against it, his body absorbing each jarring motion.

“Don’t fight him!” Walker called. “Let him know you’re not going anywhere!”

Jax didn’t waste breath answering. He focused entirely on staying centered, on keeping his balance as the horse beneath him twisted and turned. He didn’t pull hard on the reins or digin his heels—instead, he yielded without surrendering, firm but not rigid.

Gradually, the bucking subsided. The roan’s sides heaved with exertion, but his steps became more measured, less frantic. Jax guided it in a slow circle around the corral, letting the horse feel the pressure of his legs, the gentle tension on the reins. By the third circuit, the animal had settled into a grudging cooperation, its ears no longer pinned flat against its skull.

When Jax finally dismounted, his shirt was soaked with sweat, and his legs trembled from the effort of staying seated. But he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth. He’d done it. The horse had tested him, and he’d passed.

“Well, shit,” River drawled, dropping down from his perch on the fence. “If I’d known you could ride like that, I’d have given you Tango on day one.”

The men laughed, and even Jax found himself chuckling at the thought of River’s notoriously unmanageable mount.

Anson hopped off the fence and approached with a gray cowboy hat in one hand. He held it out. “You’ve earned this.”

Jax took the hat, surprised by its weight. The felt was dense, and quality craftsmanship was evident in the smooth finish. He ran his thumb along the brim, appreciating the slight curve that wouldn’t need constant reshaping. Before he could talk himself out of it, he slipped it on. The hat settled onto his head as if it had been made for him, the fit snug but not too tight.

“Knew that hat was the one,” Jonah said.

X let out a low whistle. “Damn, man. You look good.”

River grinned. “Told ya we’d make a cowboy out of you, City Boy.”

The barn was quiet as Jax slipped inside, the evening light filtering through the high windows in dusty, golden bars. The day’s work was done, the ranch hands gone to dinner, leaving behind only the soft sounds of horses shifting in their stalls and the distant call of birds settling for the night. He moved down the center aisle, his footsteps muffled in the sawdust, until he reached the familiar stall where Lazy Susan stood dozing, her head dipped low over her feed bucket.

She lifted her head at his approach, ears flicking forward in recognition but without any real enthusiasm. Typical Suzy, acknowledging his presence while making it clear she wasn’t particularly impressed by it.

“Hey, old girl,” he said softly, holding out his palm with a peppermint he’d swiped from the kitchen. She took it with exaggerated delicacy, her lips velvety against his skin.

Jax leaned against the stall door, the new cowboy hat tilted back on his head. It still felt strange there, like something that belonged to someone else. Yet the hat was his now, just as the red roan was his, just as this new life was slowly becoming his.

“Guess this is it,” he told the mare, reaching out to stroke her neck. “You and me are done. But I wanted to say thanks.”

Suzy huffed softly and bumped his shoulder with her nose.

“Yeah, I know. You think I’m being sentimental.” He scratched behind her ear, finding the spot that always made her lean into his touch. “But you taught me more than Walker probably intended. Patience. Persistence.” He smiled. “How to deal with a stubborn female who has her own ideas about everything.”

The mare’s dark eye regarded him steadily, unimpressed.

“You were exactly what I needed,” he continued. “Someone who didn’t care about my past. Who didn’t expect anything from me except to show up and try again. Even when I wanted to quit.”

And hehadwanted to quit, those first few weeks at Valor Ridge. The nightmares had been worse then, the guilt heavier, the ghosts more persistent. But every morning, Lazy Susan had been there, plodding and steady, refusing to be rushed yet never refusing to move forward. One hoof in front of the other. Again and again. Until the path seemed less impossible.

“I won’t forget it,” he promised her.