Page 62

chapter

forty-four

Four Months Later

Jax knew something was up when Walker and Boone cornered him that afternoon, their faces set with that particular brand of ranch seriousness that meant either very good news or very bad.

Walker nodded toward the north pasture, his weathered face giving nothing away.

“Got something to show you,” was all he said before turning on his heel, clearly expecting Jax to follow.

Boone fell into step beside him, silent as always.

As they crested the small rise leading to the training corral, Jax spotted the new horse immediately.

Red roan coat catching the morning light, head high and alert, muscles bunched with barely contained energy as it paced the perimeter of the fence.

Nothing like the plodding, unflappable Lazy Susan who’d been his mount since he’d arrived at Valor Ridge.

Walker stopped at the fence, hooking one boot on the lowest rail. “What do you think?”

Jax studied the animal, noting the way it moved—all coiled spring and sharp edges, so different from Lazy Susan’s stubborn lethargy. “Looks like trouble.”

Boone’s mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. “He is.”

“Where’d he come from?”

“An auction. Nobody else wanted him.”

“Figured he’d fit right in here,” Walker said, then squinted over at Jax. “You know your required six months with us are up? There’s nothing keeping you here anymore.”

Jax’s throat went dry. Six months since he’d first arrived at Valor Ridge, battered and hollow-eyed, convinced he’d fuck up again and end up back in prison within a week. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d found love and family and everything he hadn’t thought he deserved.

Jesus, had it really been six months already?

He’d been so focused on rebuilding the bakery, on learning to live with Nessie and Oliver, that he hadn’t thought about his future at the ranch.

The program Walker had designed was meant to be temporary, a way station between prison and whatever came next.

Most guys stayed their six months, then moved on.

But leave? The thought made his chest tighten.

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” he admitted, watching the red roan toss its head and snort. The horse was beautiful—proud and wild, with intelligent eyes that seemed to take in everything. Nothing like plodding Lazy Susan, who was practically asleep on her feet half the time.

“Well, start thinking,” Walker said. “Because I’d like you to stay on. Permanently.”

Jax gripped the fence rail harder, his knuckles going white against the weathered wood. “What?”

“Ranch could use another full-time hand,” Boone said. “Someone who knows the animals, understands the work. Someone the other guys respect. You’ll get a boost in pay, and you and Nessie can continue living in the cabin.”

Jax’s mind reeled. Stay permanently? He’d assumed—hell, he’d never let himself think beyond tomorrow. The idea of a future that stretched out longer than his parole requirements had seemed too dangerous to contemplate.

“I don’t know what to say,” he managed.

“Say yes,” Walker said simply.

“Yes,” he answered just as simply. Of course he was going to stay. He had Nessie and Oliver here. He had friends—no, more than that, brothers. Leaving wasn’t an option.

Walker smirked and nodded to the roan. “Then that horse is yours. You’ve outgrown Suzy. It’s time for a horse that’ll challenge you, not just tolerate you.”

As if sensing that they were talking about him, the horse reared up and slammed its front hooves back down with an emphatic stomp.

“What, you trying to kill me?” Jax muttered.

“You can handle him,” Boone said.

Echo, as horse crazy as she was, only saw a new friend. Before Jax could stop her, she slipped under the bottom rail of the fence, her slender body easily fitting through the gap. His heart jumped into his throat—a dog in with a nervous horse was a recipe for disaster.

“Echo, no—” he started, but Walker’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Wait,” the older man said quietly. “Watch.”

Echo didn’t approach the horse directly. Instead, she found a patch of dirt near the center of the corral and sat, her body relaxed, her gaze not quite meeting the horse’s. It was the same technique he had used on her all those months ago.

The roan’s head came up, nostrils flaring as he caught Echo’s scent. He paced a wide circle, never taking his eyes off the dog, but Echo remained perfectly still, a picture of serene indifference.

“Well, would you look at that,” River drawled from behind them. “Calm recognizes calm.”

Jax turned to find the entire Valor Ridge crew had materialized along the fence line.

Anson leaned against the fence, his scarred hands folded in front of him, eyes narrowed in assessment.

Jonah stood a few feet away, his usual kind smile in place as he watched the scene unfold.

River had perched himself on the top rail, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

X lounged against the fence with his usual casual grace, while Bear’s massive form created a shadow that stretched across the dirt.

Even Ghost had appeared, hanging back as always but watching with that unnerving intensity that missed nothing.

“Who else is coming to this party?” Jax muttered, uncomfortable with the audience.

“Jax!” Oliver ran toward the corral, Nessie following at a more measured pace. The boy grabbed the fence rails, hoisting himself up to get a better view. “Is that your new horse? He’s so cool!”

The roan’s ears flicked at the sound of Oliver’s voice, but the horse had begun to inch closer to Echo, curiosity apparently winning out over caution.

Echo remained perfectly still, allowing the horse to approach at his own pace.

Finally, the roan stretched out his neck, nostrils flaring as he sniffed Echo’s fur.

“Now,” Walker said quietly. “Move slow. Let him come to you.”

Jax slipped between the fence rails, his movements deliberately measured and calm.

He kept his breathing even, the way he’d learned to do during sniper training—in for four, hold for four, out for four.

The horse’s head came up, ears pricked forward, but he didn’t bolt, which was a good sign.

Jax stood perfectly still, allowing the animal to take his measure.

“That’s it,” Walker murmured. “He’s deciding if you’re worth the trouble.”

Apparently, Jax passed inspection because the roan took a tentative step in his direction, then another. When he was close enough, Jax slowly raised his hand, palm flat, and held it steady. The horse’s velvet muzzle brushed his fingertips, warm breath ghosting across his skin.

“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 dig in 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.”