Page 112 of Buckled in Barbwire

But I’ll be no use to her then. I straighten to my full height, ready to raise hell. “What happened?”

She lifts a palm to where there’s a dark bruise already forming. “Just a little mishap. Probably looks worse than it is. Didn’t stop to ask for ice. Bianca scooped me up and we got the fuck out of Dodge.”

“Who did this?” My tone is deceptively quiet.

“She feels really bad, or so I’m told.”

Every muscle in my body flexes for a fight. “Don’t bullshit me. Give. Me. His. Name.”

“Not he. She,” my wife reiterates. “Echo moved too quickly when I approached her in the trailer. Her head swung at me and knocked me out cold. Should’ve known better considering her agitated state.”

My glare narrows on her mottled skin. “Who took her?”

“Some guy.” Paisley shudders, going a bit pale.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What’s his name, wife?”

“He didn’t bother introducing himself. Probably doesn’t have to,” she mumbles absently.

My molars grind. It’s more than we got from Jimmy, but there’s not much to go on. The list of suspects is short regardless. Only a few are dumb enough to cross me in this town.

Bianca reappears with a bag of frozen peas clutched in her hand. Her motions are stilted while she unloads Echo. The mare whinnies once her hooves touch grass. A chorus of neighs from the herd welcome her home.

“There’s something about that horse,” I ponder as Bianca approaches with the buckskin. “Seems to get herself wrapped up in drama.”

A crease forms between Paisley’s brows while she gingerly probes at the shiner marring her cheek. “That’s not Echo’s fault.”

“Still,” I grunt. “Maybe it’s time I actually got rid of her.”

Paisley whirls on me, blue fury sparkling in her eyes. “That’s not funny.”

“You should take her off my hands.”

“What?” Her voice is barely a whisper.

“We want you to have her, sis.” Bianca passes the lead rope and peas to my wife.

The mare is quick to flank her as if they’re already a team. Paisley’s palm trembles when she rubs along the buckskin’s nose. She ignores the frozen vegetables completely. Indecision hangs thick in the air like incoming rain.

“I can’t accept her.” The rejection is weak while she presses the makeshift ice pack to her injury.

“She’s meant to be yours,” I insist. “Mom would want you to have her.”

“No,” Paisley blubbers. “That’s too much.”

“We already decided,” Bianca cuts in. “That’s why her disappearance was extra upsetting.”

“You’ve talked about this?” Awe is bright in her features.

My sister grins, but the expression wobbles. “It’s not like she’s going anywhere. I can take her for a spin whenever I want.”

Paisley’s eyes are glassy. “Really?”

“Well, yeah. But I’m about to have my hands full,” Bianca mumbles.

I freeze on the spot. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll find out. Eventually,” she evades. “Love what you’ve done to your room, by the way. Pink is definitely your color. Tah-tah!”

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