Page 40

chapter

twenty-eight

When Jax finally made it out to the kennel to see Echo, she had gone back to cowering in her corner.

“My poor girl,” he murmured and unlatched the door. “I’m here now. I’m sorry I had to leave, but I’ll always come back.”

That might not be entirely true, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

He sat down in his usual spot against the wall, expecting he’d have to start from scratch again, but the moment his ass hit the concrete, Echo whimpered and crawled into his lap, nuzzling her face against his.

And her tail wagged for the first time.

In the three days since, she had blossomed before his eyes. The ranch vet, Lila Garrison, said it was because he’d come back, and nobody had ever done that for Echo in her entire life. He hadn’t broken her trust.

Still, he couldn’t believe the progress.

She was now a completely different dog. She’d gone from trembling in the corner again to following him around the ranch, meeting the other guys, dogs, and animals.

She wasn’t a fan of General Mayhem—but, really, who was?

She liked Jonah, Bear, Walker, and Anson, though she wasn’t sure about Anson’s wolfhound, Bramble.

She tolerated River, but gave X the side-eye every time he got close. The smart girl didn’t fall for his charm any more than Mariah had that night at Nessie’s.

As for the others, she hadn’t made up her mind about Boone or Ghost yet, and she avoided Cinder, who was one of the most aloof dogs Jax had ever met. Like owner, like dog.

Echo preferred napping beside King, that overgrown marshmallow of a dog, when she was out of her kennel, and she loved the jerky Bear was constantly sneaking them both.

But, most of all, she loved the horses.

Jax watched her from his perch on the fence rail, coffee mug warming his hands in the morning chill.

The blue merle had her nose pressed to the kennel gate, amber and ice-blue eyes fixed on the horses in the pasture beyond.

Her whole body vibrated with something that looked almost like. .. excitement.

“She’s got horse fever,” Jonah said, settling beside him on the fence. “Seen it before. Some dogs just take to ‘em.”

“She’s been watching them since sunrise.” Jax took a sip of coffee. It was bitter and strong, the way Anson always made it, and made him miss Nessie. She always made his coffee just right.

“Might be good for her. Horses are calming,” Jonah said with the easy confidence of a man who’d spent his whole life around livestock. “Want to introduce her?”

Jax studied Echo’s posture. Alert but not rigid. Curious instead of hypervigilant. She’d come so far, further than he’d dared hope when he’d first seen her cowering in the back of her kennel.

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s try it.”

Jax hopped off the rail and clicked his tongue softly. Echo’s ears perked up, her mismatched eyes finding him instantly. That was new, too. The way she tracked him now, as if he were her true north.

“Come on, girl,” he murmured, and she trotted to his side, pressing against his leg. He rewarded her with a scratch behind the ear.

Jonah led them to the barn, boots crunching on gravel. “We’ll start with your girl, Lazy Susan. She’s getting new shoes today, so she’s already in the cross-ties.”

The barn smelled of sweet hay, leather, and the earthy musk of horses. Shafts of morning light cut through the dust motes floating in the air. Echo’s nails clicked on the concrete floor as she stayed glued to Jax’s side, her body tense but her tail giving a tentative wag.

Anson was at the far end, bent over Lazy Susan’s hoof. Bramble lay close by, as usual—wherever Anson went, he followed. The massive wolfhound was sprawled upside down in the straw, paws splayed wide, snoring loud enough to make his lips flap with each breath.

The sturdy buckskin mare stood patiently as Anson worked. The only sign she was paying attention to their approach was the flick of her tail. The farrier didn’t look up, either, just kept hammering with the same intense focus he brought to everything.

Echo stiffened when she saw the horse, ears going flat.

“It’s okay.” Jax crouched beside her. “Lazy Susan won’t hurt you. She’s a sweet old girl.”

Jonah leaned against a stall door. “The sweetest. Been here longer than most of the men.”

Jax straightened. “Can I bring her closer?” he asked Anson. “She’s curious about the horses.”

“Sure. I’m done here.” He dropped the hoof he was working on and straightened, wiping sweat off his brow with his arm. He patted the horse’s flank. “And Suzy’s a good one to introduce Echo to. She don’t startle. Not much bothers her.”

“So I’ve learned.” He guided Echo forward, taking each step carefully.

The mare turned her head, dark eyes curious, and blew out a soft breath.

Echo froze, then inched forward, nose working overtime.

When she was close enough, Lazy Susan lowered her head, and Echo stretched her neck, their noses almost touching.

Jax’s eyes suddenly burned. From the hay and dust, he told himself. “Look at you, making friends.”

“She’s a natural,” Jonah said. “Want to meet the others?”

They made their way down the row of stalls, starting with Jonah’s horse, Sundance, a friendly Palomino Quarter Horse.

Then X’s horse, Troubadour, a sleek black Arabian who knew he was beautiful, and tossed his head dramatically when they approached.

He seemed to think he was too good for everyone, including Echo.

But she didn’t care about the snub. She was too busy cataloging every scent, every sound.

But it was River’s chaotic horse, Tango, that really interested her. Echo took one look at him dancing in his stall, and her tail started wagging hard enough to wiggle her whole butt. She tapped her feet like she was copying him and made happy little whimpering sounds.

“Figures,” Jonah said with a laugh.

“She’s got good taste,” River said from behind them.

Jax turned to see him walking down the center aisle, that crooked grin plastered across his face. “Tango’s got the best personality in this whole place.”

“If by personality you mean complete inability to stand still,” Anson called from where he was packing up his tools. “I didn’t get a good look at his feet. Lila’s gonna have to dose him next time.”

Tango pulled his lips back and neighed as if in protest. Surprisingly, the burst of sound didn’t startle Echo. She barked back, and they all froze.

“Holy shit,” Jax breathed. The sound had come from somewhere deep in her chest, confident and clear. Not fearful. Not aggressive. Just... playful.

River laughed. “Looks like Tango’s got a girlfriend.”

Echo barked again, her tail a blur now. Tango tossed his head and pranced in his stall, clearly enjoying the attention.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Anson said, a quirk on his lips as he joined them. “She’s got something to say after all.”

Echo looked up at Jax, her mismatched eyes bright with what looked almost like pride, as if seeking his approval. He crouched down and rubbed her neck, his fingers finding that spot under her collar that made her lean into him.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Finding your voice.”

Something about those words stuck in his throat. Finding your voice. Wasn’t that what he was trying to do, too? After years of silence, of burying everything so deep he sometimes forgot who he was beneath all that darkness?

Jonah cleared his throat. “Speaking of finding things, any word on that investigation? The guys find anything useful yet?”

Jax straightened up, his knees popping. “Ghost thinks he’s onto something with the phone records, but he’s still digging.”

“And X sweet-talked one of the waitresses at the Rusty Spur,” River added. “She remembers seeing Bailee arguing with someone the night before she died.”

“Anyone we know?”

“Not yet. The description was pretty vague.”

River leaned against Tango’s stall door, arms crossed. Tango stole his hat off his head, but he didn’t so much as blink. “Boone’s running down some leads in town today. Says he’s got a contact at the sheriff’s office who might be willing to share the autopsy report.”

“That’s something, at least.” Jonah’s face darkened. “Hank Goodwin’s got his head so far up his ass he can see his own tonsils.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” River’s gaze shifted to Jax. “How’s Nessie doing with all this?”

Jax’s jaw tightened. “She’s not answering my calls.”

“At all?”

“Texts either.” He tried to keep his tone neutral, but the hurt leaked through anyway. “Maybe she believes Goodwin.”

“Bullshit,” Jonah said firmly. “That woman’s got eyes. She can see what kind of man you are.”

Jax wasn’t so sure. What kind of man was he, really? The kind who’d spent five years in prison for assault. The kind whose brain sometimes played tricks on him, making him see enemies where there were none. The kind who’d had a psychotic break so severe he’d?—

No. He wasn’t going there. Not now.

“Sorry, man,” River muttered. “That’s rough.”

Jax shrugged. What was there to say? That he’d finally let himself care about someone, only to have them pull away? That he’d started to believe he could have something good in his life, and now it was evaporating like morning dew?

“Maybe you should go see her,” Jonah suggested. “Sometimes things get lost in translation over the phone.”

“I can’t.”

“What, can’t drive?”

Jax grimaced. “My license lapsed while I was inside. Haven’t renewed it yet.” Another detail he hadn’t bothered to fix, another piece of his life left in limbo.

Jonah stared at him for a beat, then nodded decisively. “I’ll drive you.”

“What?”

“I’m heading into town anyway. Need to pick up some feed supplements.”

Jax hesitated, looking down at Echo. “I don’t want to leave her again.”

“Take her with you,” River suggested. “She could use the exposure. Isn’t that what Walker’s always saying? The more they see, the more they learn.”

“He’s right,” Jonah agreed. “And she’s bonded to you now. She’ll be fine as long as you’re there.”

Jax considered it. Echo had made incredible progress, but the town would be a lot. Noise, people, traffic. Then again, if she were ever going to become a fully functioning dog, she’d need to get used to the world beyond Valor Ridge.

But the thought of showing up unannounced at Nessie’s doorstep made his stomach knot. What if she didn’t want to see him? What if whatever they’d had was already over?

But the alternative—sitting here, wondering, waiting for a call that might never come—was worse.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Let me grab her leash and vest.”