Page 131 of Wyatt

“Hey, buddy.” Wyatt keeps his voice low and soft.

The colt is a beautiful animal, its shiny black coat gleaming in the overhead lights. But the rapid rise and fall of his sides are a dead giveaway that he’s in pain.

“We’re just here to help. You’re hurting, aren’t you? You’re gonna be okay.”

Wyatt moves slowly, holding up his hands. When he reaches for the horse, the colt whinnies and pulls away, his eyes wild.

My cowboy, however, won’t be deterred. “You got the best surgeon in the world here to take care of you. That’s right. You’re gonna feel so much better after she helps you.”

Wyatt strokes the horse’s back in steady, careful movements, and slowly but surely, the horse calms down.

Meanwhile, I’m bursting with…I don’t even know what. Worry for the horse. Adoration for Wyatt.

Excitement that I get to do what I love, with the man that I love.

I belong here. Deep down, I think I’ve always known that, but Dad’s dreams for me overshadowed my desire to return to Texas and make a life here.

After a few minutes, Wyatt has the colt literally eating out of his hand. Because again, Wyatt is a cowboy, and he thought to stuff apples into the pockets of his jacket on his way out the door.

Rubbing the colt’s nose, Wyatt glances at me over his shoulder. “I think he’s ready for you, Dr. Powell.”

Blinking, I put the tips of my stethoscope in my ears. “Thank you, Mr. Rivers.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Ava leaning into Dad and asking, “Do they always refer to each other that way?”

“That appears to be…new.”

I don’t have time to decipher Dad’s tone. I get to work, listening to the colt’s heart and stomach, while Wyatt strokes him, keeping him calm.

He gets skittish when I bend down to examine his injured leg.

Wyatt puts a hand on the colt’s neck to keep him steady. Then he looks down and says, “It looks like a compound fracture.”

I frown. “How can you tell?”

“A few years back, Ryder’s horse broke his leg in three places trying to jump a fence.” Wyatt nods at the injury. “It looked a lot like that—the swelling, that dislocated bone there.”

I confirm as much with a series of radiographs that show a gnarly break in the horse’s front-right radius.

“Good call, Wy,” I say, mentally calculating the amount of anesthesia we’ll need for a horse this size.

Even Dad says, “You really know your shit, don’t you?”

“Learned from the best.” Wyatt looks at Dad. “And by that, I mean you. And Garrett.”

I smile. “You got a world-class education in cowboying—that’s for damn sure.”

“Not as fancy as yours?—”

“But just as important.” I glance at Dad. “All right, y’all, it’s gonna be all hands on deck. We’re going to have to use plates, screws, and cables to fix this guy, but I’m almost positive we can do it.”

Ava looks like she’s about to cry. “I’m so relieved to hear that I can’t even tell you. Thank you, Sally. Thank all y’all for coming out tonight.”

Wyatt and I meet eyes.

We’re always looking at each other this way, aren’t we? Finding each other across the room. Checking in with each other.

It’s the best, most ridiculous thing ever.

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