She doesn’t have to say it for me to know her heart is too broken to feel the passion she once felt, and she doesn’t have to tell me that makes her guilty. I know it just by looking at her, and I understand the pain.

“Anyway,” she says, moving on. “This is Sundance. He’s almost ready to find a home, after a few more hours spent under saddle.”

She moves to the next stall. “This is Benny.”

I walk along next to her and look in at a large brown horse. He lifts his head and flares his nostrils at me.

“He’s kind of an asshole and likes to eat hair. Watch out for him. He’s a permanent resident because of that.”

I take a step to go to the last stall, but Haley stops me. Her fingers wrap around my wrist. Her face pales.

“You know how you asked me what was the worst I’ve seen?” she asks, and I nod. “This is it.”

I twist my hand and slip my fingers through hers. We move down the aisle, hand in hand. My heart thumps in my chest when I look into the stall, and I feel a little sick. A dark horse stands in the back, her head down. Bones protrude all along her body and I wonder how the hell she’s even alive. She turns her head to look at us, and I almost recoil. One side of her face has been badly burned. She’s missing fur and skin along her jaw, down her neck, and along her side and back.

She holds Haley’s gaze for half a beat and then turns her head down again. If I thought the baby horse was pathetic, I was sadly mistaken. The horse in front of us looks so utterly hopeless.

“Phoenix,” Haley whispers, voice tight. She puts her hand on her shoulder, right over the spot where I’d seen the burn scars. “We saved her that night. She looked worse, if you can believe that. She’s put on some weight, and her burns are healing, but not as fast as they should. I can hardly get her to eat. It’s definitely safe to say many others would give up on her.”

She looks at the horses, running her eyes down the barn. “They don’t give up on us. They trust us, love us for some reason when we’re capable of doing horrendous things to them. But horses still love their humans. They never give up on us, so I never give up on them.”

I slide my foot along the rubber mats that cover the cement floor and put my arm around Haley’s shoulders, bringing her in and cradling her against my chest. Her arms go around my waist and my heart flutters. It’s stupid. Why would I feel nervous right now? All we are doing is standing here.

“Aiden,” she starts and pulls away. “It’s not that late. You should go, find someone who’s more fun than me.”

“There you go again, not wanting to be around me,” I say with a smile.

She bites her lip. “I’ll take a rain check, if you’ll still have me.”

I look down, forehead resting against hers. “I’d like to.” I can see the tears in her eyes and I hate that she’s sad, hate that she’s in pain. It’s something I know all too well, and it’s something that took me a lifetime to learn how to control. “I want to make you smile, Haley. You’re beautiful when you do.”

“You’re too kind.”

“I’m really not.” I shuffle closer and become aware of her breasts pressing into me and her hips brushing against mine. “Teach me how to bottle-feed a horse?”

She slides out of my embrace and smiles. “Yeah. I can do that.”

Chapter 11

I wake up as the sun rises. I’m still in the barn, having fallen asleep on a blanket I laid out in the foal’s stall. Aiden had been next to me, but I know right away he’s not now. I’m cold, missing the warmth of his body. I startle awake, realizing that hours must have passed since the last time I fed the baby.

I turn, fear gripping my heart. Then I stop, and what I see next leaves me speechless. Aiden sits on the other side of the stall with the foal sleeping in his lap. She’s lazily sucking on a bottle he’s holding, and his jacket is draped over her little body.

“Shhh,” he says when he sees me. “She just fell asleep.” I stare at him for a few seconds, then a smile pulls up my lips and tears prick my eyes. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he whispers. “I figured you’d need as much sleep as you can get if you’re going to be doing this all day.”

I can’t stop smiling at him. “Yeah, I will be. All day, all night, and then again tomorrow.”

“How do you do it?” he asks as he looks down at the foal.

“I just do,” I answer simply. I used to enjoy it, and it used to feel rewarding. Now it feels tedious, like everything in life. All I want to do is curl up in my bed and never get up. But it’s these guys who force me out of bed each and every morning. It’s these guys who give me a reason to keep going when everything else has been burned away.

“You’re pretty amazing, you know,” he says.

“No, I’m not.” I push up, my back sore from leaning against the side of the stall most of the night. “I’m just doing my little part to help those who can’t help themselves.” I brush hay and bedding from my hair. “You are too, for putting up with me and staying.”

I feel embarrassed about my breakdown last night, though at the same time, I’m glad I told Aiden. I had to tell someone, and even though it didn’t make sense, there was something about Aiden that pulled me in. It was more than his pouty lips and emotional eyes that won me over in Shadowland—not to mention his perfect abs. No, there was more to Aiden Shepherd than meets the eye.

“Hungry?” I ask him. My own stomach grumbles.

“I’m starving,” he says.

“I can make you something,” I offer then remember I don’t have much more than Ramen noodles and Mac ’n Cheese. “Or at least a cup of coffee.”

“Yes to both,” he says. His accent is thicker when he’s tired, and it’s adorable. “How do I sneak away?” he asks, running his hands over the foal’s muzzle. He sets the bottle down. “I feel bad getting up.”

“Hang on,” I say and go over, helping Aiden to his feet without disturbing the foal. “She’s going to wake up anyway,” I whisper. “I have to feed the other guys, and they get a little excited. Especially Benny.”

Aiden stands, brushing himself off. Waking up with a clear head opens my eyes to just how amazing he looks in the dark jeans and gray t-shirt. His dark, wavy hair is messy, and he’s got just enough scuff on his chiseled jaw to drive any girl wild. The lingering scent of cologne clings to him, despite spending the night in the barn.

Wait. Holy fucking shit.

I spent the night with Aiden. Not at all in the sense that’s implied, but he stayed with me. All night. In a barn. Bottle-feeding an orphaned foal, keeping it warm with his own jacket. If I weren’t so dead tired, my ovaries would be exploding right now. I hurry out of the stall before he can see me flush, and I pull down a bale of hay. I slice the strings, break the bale into flakes, and toss them into each horse’s stall. I fill up water buckets next, and finally dish out grain for everyone.

“You do this every morning?” Aiden asks, sitting on the tractor we use to pull the manure spreader.

“I’m not even done yet,” I tell him as I mix another bottle of formula, using warm water from inside the tack room. “I clean stalls and let everyone out after they’re done eating, and then do all of Phoenix’s treatments. She has a lot.”

“I can’t even get up and get dressed in clothes someone picked out for me in time for someone else to drive me to work.” He runs his hand through his hair. “You’re putting me to shame.”

I chuckle. “Then I go to work. All this,” I say, sweeping my hands in front of me. “The barn work isn’t even my job.”

“You’re Superwoman.”

I shake my head. “That was my mom. She did all this and more, plus did several barn calls a day as a farrier.”

Aiden raises an eyebrow. “Farrier?”

I smile. “Right. I forget you non-horse people don’t know. A farrier does hooves. You know, trim, file, put on shoes.”