Chapter 1

Chapter One

H enry Marshall walked at Gilligan’s flank, watching the horse pick up and put down his front hoof. “There’s still something wrong,” he muttered to himself. He’d been trying to get the horse to take shoes for a couple of months now, but now that they were on, he wasn’t walking right.

As a farrier, Henry had several tactics to try, and believe it or not, horses didn’t all wear the exact same kind of shoes. This was the third—and lightest—set he’d tried on Gilligan, and they still didn’t seem quite right.

Bard wouldn’t be happy about that, but Henry could come up with another suggestion for the rescue horse the owner had brought home several weeks ago. He truly believed every horse deserved the best care in the world, and he marveled that he’d been able to find such a perfect fit for him in a career.

Not only that, but Henry hadn’t been on a date since he’d started at Lone Star, and he let out a sigh that left his body with more contentment than ever before. He couldn’t believe that, as he really didn’t like staying home at night, and being alone in the evening was even worse.

But since coming to Lone Star, Henry had been busier than ever. Still learning a lot in his field, though he’d completed his coursework nine months ago. Meeting new suppliers, owners, farriers, and horses took a lot of his energy, and he thanked the Lord every evening for the connections he was making through Bard and Angel White.

He really liked his cabinmate, a man named Levi, and they were known to leave the ranch on Friday nights, but they just went to a restaurant, ate and talked and laughed, and returned to the ranch. Nothing scandalous, and Henry hardly recognized his life these days.

A year ago, everything had been so different. Henry himself had been wildly different, and as he looked back to Gilligan, a keen sense of gratitude overcame him. His momma had taught him to acknowledge the Lord in all things, especially when the feelings struck him, so Henry said, “Thank you for this good life, Lord,” as he walked.

Gilligan looked at him as he spoke, and Henry lengthened his stride to catch the equine at his shoulder. “This pair ain’t for you, bud,” he said. “I’m gonna take them off and put you in the pasture, okay?”

He put his hand on the horse’s neck, and Gilligan crowded into him. He’d been underfed and overworked at his previous ranch, and Bard had taken him in an estate sale, along with a dozen other horses.

The horsemen at Lone Star had been rehabilitating them in the following days, weeks, and months, and because Henry’s daddy owned an equine therapy unit, Henry had plenty of experience training and working with horses.

Gilligan had taken a shine to him, and only one other person could work with the horse—and that happened to be the worst person to work with Henry.

Angel White.

She’d been bringing her brother with her whenever she had to be in close proximity to Henry, something he’d absolutely noticed. He’d said nothing to her of it, and she even conducted his performance evaluations with the door open. He’d asked around, and none of the other men had to have their job skills, work ethic, or anything else critiqued where anyone walking by could hear.

Henry frowned internally, and Gilligan slowed and huffed through his lips. “Yeah, buddy, I feel the same way.”

He’d not brought up the kiss from over a year ago now, and he wished God had not sharpened his memory of that moment, because he could relive it with precision any time he wanted. Asleep, awake, it didn’t matter.

For Angel had kissed him back. He knew that, and he knew she knew it—which was probably why she didn’t want to be in a closed-door room with him ever again.

He drew in a deep breath, getting a lot of horseflesh, the scent of fresh rain, and some notes of alfalfa as he prodded Gilligan to get moving again. The horse did what he wanted, and Henry had done more for the horses in his care than he’d ever done for any woman, for his siblings, even for his momma.

Most horsemen did the same, so Henry wasn’t unique in that way. It simply surprised him, and he made a mental note to put it in his prayer journal that evening before he went to bed.

In the stable, he moved Gilligan back to the shoeing station, got the offensive shoes off, cleaned up his hooves, and turned him loose in the pasture with a few of his equine friends. Gilligan made no move to join them in the shade, where they snacked on the coolest grass. He was a bit of an outcast still, and maybe that was why Henry connected to him so deeply.

“See you tomorrow, bud,” he said before turning to return to the stable. He had a standing desk in the facility—all the horsemen and farriers did—and he found Gilligan’s file and entered the notes for that day’s trial.

He pulled out his phone and texted Bard. Those shoes on Gilligan weren’t right. When can I come over and chat with you about another solution?

The older gentleman had retired completely from any administrative role at Lone Star, passing everything to his daughter, Angel. But he still liked to consult with his team leads on specific cases, and Henry and Gilligan qualified.

He wasn’t glued to his phone the way Henry and others his age were, so he didn’t expect Bard to answer immediately. He picked up the next folder, reviewed the notes for a pretty bay named Henrietta, and he went to retrieve her from her stall and get her feet back in shape.

Henry loved the fresh air he was privy to for his job. He loved the blue sky filled with puffy white clouds, and he loved the scratch of his gloves against his skin. He loved the view of his tools, the feel of leather along his arm, and the living, breathing animal at his side.

He chatted with Levi and a couple of other farriers throughout the afternoon, and by evening, he remembered he hadn’t looked at his phone in a few hours. Bard had answered with, Stop by whenever, son , so Henry quickly texted back that he’d come by in the morning.

He then found several texts on his friends’ group text. He appreciated his cousin for including him in the things he and his wife planned for their friends in Three Rivers, and Henry climbed the steps to his cabin and sat on the top one to read his messages.

I need a final count for game night on Saturday , Edith Ackerman had said. Finn’s wife. Depending on who’s in for sure will determine what game we’ll have ready. We’ll also make food assignments once we know.

She’d added a smiley face and a heart, and Henry truly did feel like his friends in Three Rivers loved him.

We’re in , Lincoln Glover had sent. He and his wife had been married for coming up on a year now, and Henry wasn’t surprised at all to see his confirmation. Nor Dawson Rhinehart’s. He and his fiancée would be there—and they’d be married in the next month.

Henry had enjoyed everyone’s Valentine’s Day pictures, and they’d all laughed when he’d sent one of him grinning next to a horse. He hadn’t told them it was a male, but it hardly mattered. Everyone knew he wasn’t dating anyone.

Oliver Walker had confirmed that he and his wife had a babysitter for their three kids and would be there. That made four couples, and Henry’s internal frown started to form again. He’d brought a date to game night in the past, and sometimes he’d been paired with Dawson’s brother. Sometimes Paul was his plus-one, but Paul had been dating someone for months now, and Henry expected to get a call from his brother any day now, telling him to clear his schedule for a summer wedding.

Not that Henry couldn’t get home quickly. He could, and he wouldn’t have to clear his schedule for anything. In fact, he and Finn had discovered that if Henry took a couple of backroads, he could get to the ranch Finn owned, which bordered Three Rivers Ranch, where Henry had grown up and where his family still lived alongside Finn’s.

No one else had answered, and as Henry started to text, in came Alex’s message. Nicki and I are going to the fertility clinic this weekend, so we won’t be there. Hope it’s fun.

Henry’s heartbeat jumped as if someone had thrown cold water in his face. He couldn’t imagine wanting children and not being able to have them, and he backed out of the group text and sent one to Alex privately.

Praying for you and Nicki, brother.

Thanks , Alex said back. We’re meeting with an adoption counselor on Friday too. Nicki’s not very happy about it, so any extra prayers for that would be appreciated.

Why isn’t she happy about it? Henry asked.

She wants a baby of her own , Alex said. I think we should explore all options, so she agreed to go, but she’s not too keen on adoption yet.

Henry wasn’t exactly sure of Nicki’s age, but he knew she was quite a bit older than Alex, who’d just turned twenty-seven at the beginning of the year. She might be thirty-five by now, and Henry didn’t know a whole lot about women, but he knew they couldn’t have babies forever.

Prayers and good vibes for it all , Henry said. Then he went back to his main menu and texted Brandon Rhinehart. Are you going to game night this weekend? Wanna be my date? He added a laughing emoji, smiled in real life, and sent the text.

The main group string had several messages of condolences and prayers coming when Henry looked at it again. Brandon had not answered him, and Henry finally got up and went inside the cabin. The scent of baking bread met his nose, and he wasn’t surprised to find Levi in the kitchen, an apron around his neck which had flour dusted down the front of it.

“You’re baking,” he said as he closed the front door behind him. “Trouble with Shad?”

Levi threw him a look made of poisonous darts and went back to cutting lines in the top of an unbaked loaf of bread. “He’s completely wrong about the growth rate on Berniece. That horse needs new shoes every three weeks, and it irritates me to the bone that he makes me wait four. For no reason.”

He bent and put the bread in the oven, then moved to the counter, where another pile of unformed dough waited. He slammed his hands into it and continued. “Today, her hooves were all overgrown around the nails, and I couldn’t get them out. I took pictures and sent them to him, and he came running right over.” He rolled his eyes and abused the poor bread dough. “It’s been twenty-four days, so he got after me for starting early. It’s unbelievable.”

Henry pulled out the barstool and sat, surveying the mess that was bread-making. “I’m sorry, Levi. For what it’s worth, I’m on your side. I’d re-shoe Berniece every two weeks if it were me. No sense in making anyone suffer. It’s not like we can’t afford it.”

Levi’s dark eyes flashed. “Right?”

Henry’s phone buzzed, and he looked at it. I’m out , Brandon said. I have a date this weekend.

He grinned at his device. Same woman as last week?

Yep , Brandon said. And I can’t ask for prayers after Alex’s thing, so I’ll just say I can’t come. Sorry, bro.

It’s fine , Henry said, though he certainly couldn’t show up stag. Most games they played at these parties were for couples, and Henry wouldn’t go alone. His heart ached to go home for the weekend, though, so he texted Paul and asked him. Then his cousin Libby. And even his brother Rich.

None of them could go—he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten Paul was going to Hondo this weekend to meet his girlfriend’s parents—and to add insult to injury, Edith messaged the group with, That just leaves Henry. Are you in? Want to bring a date?

He looked up at Levi, who’d gone quiet after his rant. “Want to go to game night with my friends this weekend?”

“When? Saturday?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes,” Levi said, and Henry confirmed that he’d be there with “a friend.” Satisfied, he set his phone aside for the evening, enjoyed the freshly baked bread with leftover chili from one of the cowboys from a couple cabins down, and kicked his feet up on the coffee table as Levi put on the Cowboy Channel and they found reruns of a rodeo out of Calgary.

He barely thought of Angel White, though the gorgeous blonde seemed to circle his mind whenever he started to get drowsy.

By Saturday, he couldn’t wait for a day off, and since he didn’t work Sundays or Mondays, he packed a bag with late afternoon sunshine shining through his window so he could stay with his parents for a couple of nights.

He heard the front door slam, and he called, “Hey, Levi, we have to leave in forty-five minutes.” They’d planned to stop and get dinner in Stinnett before continuing on to his cousin’s ranch for game night.

Levi didn’t answer, and alarms rang through Henry’s head when he heard boots running. Running.

He twisted toward his open door. “Levi?” He went that way and caught Levi’s retreating back as he dashed into the bathroom.

A moment later, an awful retching noise filled the cabin. Henry’s pulse leapt and lunged, and he stayed where he was as he asked, “Hey, are you okay?”

“No,” Levi moaned.

Henry’s weekend plans flew right out the window, and he turned in a full circle. His packed bag waited for him, mocked him.

Levi moaned again as the water ran in the bathroom, and Henry moved to check on him. “I’m sorry, man,” he said as he leaned over the sink and washed out his mouth. “I can’t go to game night. I ate something that seriously doesn’t agree with me.” His skin was the pale gray color of a dry sidewalk, and his eyes seemed to sink into his face further than normal.

“It’s fine,” Henry said, though he now couldn’t go to game night either. He wondered what his parents were doing on a hopping Saturday night on a ranch, forty-five minutes from civilization. How they lived so far out, Henry could not comprehend. “I’ll just go stay with my folks. Let’s get you to bed.”

He put his hand on Levi’s arm to steady him as he helped his friend into his bedroom. “There’s loads of food here, and I’ll let everyone know you’re not feeling well, so they can check on you.”

“Thanks, Henry,” Levi said as he collapsed into his bed. He never made it, so the covers had been left where he’d flung them that morning and all he had to do was pull them over him, his eyes already settling closed.

Henry backed out of the room and went back into his, gathered his bag and his phone and went out to the kitchen. They had a group app for all the horsemen, cowboys, and farriers at Lone Star, and only the most important messages were meant to be shared on it.

This was one of those things, so Henry quickly typed out, Levi isn’t feeling well, and I’m headed to my parents’ house for the weekend. Let’s be sure someone comes by and checks on him from time to time, okay?

That done, Henry needed to decide if he still wanted to grab something to eat in Stinnett, or maybe go all the way to Three Rivers and drive through somewhere there. Or he could make himself a sandwich here and stay for another couple of hours before he had to leave.

“Decisions decisions,” Henry muttered as his phone lit up with affirmative responses that the others here would check on Levi for him. He was tired of making decisions.

He’d just opened the fridge when someone knocked on his door. “Come in,” he called, because they never locked the door, and Henry knew everyone who lived and worked at Lone Star.

No one came in, and irritation snagged through Henry. “Just come in,” he muttered as he closed the fridge and went to answer the door. He pulled it open with, “You just walk in around here.” When he saw the heavenly being on his porch, he said, “Oh,” and backed up a step.

Since he’d worked with Angel White for a while now, he could recover much quicker than before. “Hey, Angel,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“Levi is ill?” She looked past him like Levi might be making dinner, the joke on the entire boarding stable.

“Threw up a few minutes ago,” Henry said. “Said he ate something bad at lunch.”

“What did he eat?” Her blue eyes roamed around, finally coming back to lock onto his. Henry loved her eyes, and he couldn’t name the exact shade of blue they were. Stunning blue. Was that a color?

Maybe for a nail polish , he thought, and it made him smile. “I have no idea.”

But a very dangerous idea had just entered his mind. He’d learned so much in the past couple of years about himself, about self-control, about his temper. But apparently, he hadn’t yet learned to stop his tongue from wagging out his thoughts, because he said, “What are you doing tonight? Levi was supposed to be my date for a game night, and I can’t go alone.”

Angel blinked her long eyelashes at him, and blinked some more, and blinked some more. He’d never stunned the pretty woman into silence, though if he’d wanted to, asking her on a date would’ve sat at the top of his idea list.

What a stupid thing to do , he chastised himself, but he couldn’t recall the words now. So he waited to find out what the lovely Angel White would say to his game night invite.