Page 29 of Just Say When

“We’re eight weeks from the competition. There’s no way Zack’s leg will heal by then. Without a rider, we’ll have to pull Pirate from the show.”

I let out a breath. Pirate’s career had obviously taken a backseat to my concern for Zack. As much as I loved that fucking horse, I had grown up with the Hale brothers. In that terrible moment when I had heard the bone snap, I had known what it meant for Pirate’s future, but all I cared about was that Zack was okay.

“Shit, is that all?” I asked. “Jesus, Brax, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Of course we’ll have to pull him from the show. It’s not ideal for Pirate, but it’s not career-ending, either. And hopefully it won’t be career-ending for Zack, either.”

“Thanks,” Zack said drily. He leaned back on the pillow and closed his eyes. “Damn, I’m tired. These pain meds are crazy.”

“It’s not career-ending for Pirate, but it’s a pretty big setback,” Brax said. “You know as well as I do that there’s a difference between competition stallions and breeding stallions, and horses don’t work like light switches. You can’t turn it on and off.”

I knew what he was referring to. Stallions had a limited window to prove themselves in the competition ring, if the owner intended to use him for breeding down the road. The behavior expectations for showing were different than breeding. Stallions were supposed to keep their sex drive locked down in the ring. Mares would be present, and a stallion couldn’t go dropping dick, vocalizing, or trying to mount other horses. It wouldn’t be safe for the horses or their riders.

That didn’t mean it was impossible to show a stallion in the ring, and in some ways, it mimicked the behavior of wild horses. Horses were pack animals by nature. They hated being alone—a good thing, too, because there was safety in numbers. But harems—groups of mares and their foals—were led by one stallion and one stallion only. Males were run off the herd when they weaned. These males either stole a harem of their own from another stallion or formed bachelor herds with other males.

The thing about these bachelor herds was that eventually, without a way to procreate, they became sterile. It was a use-it-or-lose-it scenario. And the same was true of a stallion that had spent years behaving a certain wayfor competition. Eventually, they weren’t good for anything else. Most stallions intended for breeding only spent two or three years in competition first, so it was important to make the most of those years.

“The futurity is a big deal,” Brax said like I didn’t already know. “There’s no bigger payout for three-year-olds. Next year, he won’t be eligible.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “So we pull him from the non-pro and enter him in the open class, with Adam riding.” I knew James wasn’t an option, since she’d already be riding for a client.

“That’s one possibility. We could enter him in the open class, but he’d be competing against horses who have a solid year of training under their saddles instead of a couple months. I’m not saying he doesn’t have what it takes to win, but it’s a bigger risk. Don’t you want him to have the best possible start?”

I blinked at him, baffled. Why the hell was he asking me that? I wasn’t purposefully holding Pirate back from success. It wasn’tmyfault Zack got bucked off and stomped. “Of course I want that. We all want that. But what are we supposed to do about it? The only person who can ride in the non-pro category is the owner or immediate family of the owner. Your dad’s not in competition shape, and Ben’s not ready for that yet. Are you going to ride?”

“I think we both know that’s not the best idea. I’m a decent rider, but I’m not a competitor. I’ll do it as a lastresort, but honestly, putting him in open competition with Adam riding would be a better option.”

“Then we’re back to that,” I said bluntly, annoyed that the conversation had circled right back to where we had started. “You’re out of relatives, Brax. There’s no way around it.”

Zack cracked one eyelid open and smirked, courtesy of my lip balm. “There might be a way around it.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

“It’s right there in the definition of immediate family. Spouse, parent, spouse’s parent, partner’s parent, stepparent, legal guardian, child, stepchild, sibling, sibling’s spouse, sibling’s partner, half sibling, stepsibling, aunt, uncle, grandmother, and grandfather.” Zack rattled off the list like he had been waiting for that question. “We just need to find a spouse. A woman who happens to be a damn fine rider would be ideal. Know anyone?”

I wrinkled my nose. Surely Zack couldn’t be suggesting what I thought he was suggesting. I turned to Brax for confirmation. Or better yet, for him to unequivocally refute it. “You…you want me to marry Zack?”

The expression on Brax’s face reminded me of a thunderstorm moving over the mountains, dark and lethal. “You’ll marry Zack over his dead body.”

“Hey!” Zack protested. “What the fuck, man? Why do I have to be the one to die?”

Brax’s icy blue gaze cut to his brother. “You’re alreadybattered and broken. I’m still all in one piece. I have too much to live for.”

“It doesn’t even make sense,” Zack muttered. “How can she marry me if I’m dead?”

“She can’t,” Brax said. “That’s the point.”

“No one’s dying,” I cut in, exasperated. “And no one’s getting married, either.”

Brax exchanged a long look with Zack. My heartbeat skittered like a nervous foal. If they weren’t talking about Zack, then that meant…No. Absolutely fucking not.

“Tell him, Brax.” My voice was an octave past shrill. “Tell him what a ridiculous idea this is.”

He paused for a beat, then shrugged. “It might be worth considering.”

I choked on a shocked laugh. “It isnotworth considering. Have you lost your damn mind?”

“It makes sense, if you think about it. Do you have a better idea?”

“Giving up horses and moving to Antarctica to train polar bears to do flying lead changes and sliding stops would be a better idea,” I snapped.

---