Page 96 of Fragile Heart

“Stay here,” I order, that same command pushing through my voice.

She shudders in a breath before nodding.

“Yes, Alpha,” she whispers.

Hell, if that doesn’t send a thrill down my spine.

I pack up the picnic without any thought for the food. The moment the saddle bags are full, I’m sprinting to the horses, draping them over Phoebe’s hips and buckling them onto her saddle since it’ll be her only weight.

I then ease Brielle up into Daphne’s saddle, forcing her up against the horn even though I know it’ll be uncomfortable as fuck for her. I can’t trust her to hold on to me and have the more comfortable position behind me. And I sure as hell can’t trust she’ll be able to ride Phoebe right now. Already, her eyes havestopped switching in and out of focus, her glassy stare landing somewhere in the middle distance.

I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Ethan.

“If you’re calling now, something fucked happened or she said no,” he mutters instead of a greeting.

“She didn’t say no,” I say.

She didn’t really say anything, actually. But navigating that will be a problem to figure out after the next five days. Shit, or longer. If she hasn’t had a heat since before December, this could be a hell of a cycle for her.

“Please tell me Phoebe didn’t spook and throw her.” Ethan’s voice is both lighter and more worried than before. “She hates that path up to the meadow.”

“You need to pack up,” I tell him. “And then I need you at the barn.”

There’s the sudden clinking of metal before Ethan’s saying something to whichever employee is helping him at Misty Mountain. Melissa’s voice cuts through some of the noise, but I can’t make out what she’s saying.

“What happened?” he asks, worry overtaking his calm disinterest. “You on your way to Jackson?”

Brielle whines as I swing into the saddle behind her, my arm enclosing her and forcing her farther forward. The horn of the saddle digs into her belly, and the whine grows louder. Ethan’s breathing freezes for a heartbeat, two. And then he curses.

“Tell me that’s not what I think it is,” he says.

Her scent surrounds me, and I have to hold my breath to keep from dropping into the haze of the rut. After a moment, the wind changes, and it blows her scent away from me.

Thank God.

“I promised you eight years ago I wouldn’t lie,” I say. My voice is hoarse.

Ethan curses again, and then he’s calling to someone in the distance.

“You need help getting her out?” he asks.

I urge Daphne onto the nature trail at an almost trot, not risking anything faster given Brielle’s fragile state. When Phoebe follows without protest, I blow out my held breath. Brielle leans her head against me, tilting until her nose is in the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder.

“I can get her out,” I say as we navigate the first stretch without problems. It’s the worst of the grade. In theory, the rest will be manageable.

“I’ll be there,” Ethan says.

And then the call cuts off.

Chapter Forty-Two

ETHAN

By the time I make it through town and to my own ranch, my heart is in my throat and nerves sit in my stomach like a damn stone. Beau frowns as he steps out of one of the employee barns, his hands in his pockets. Emily follows a few steps behind him.

Shit, the last thing I need right now is another Alpha at the barns. I love Emily. She loves Brielle. But instincts are instincts.

They close the distance to me even as I ease the truck into the open space in front of the private barn. There’s no sign of Caleb across the meadow, where the trailhead he’s probably using dumps out of the forest. I tilt my head back and force myself to breathe, to think.

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