Page 149 of Finding His Redemption

Jax’s throat went dry. Six months since he’d first arrived at Valor Ridge, battered and hollow-eyed, convinced he’d fuck up again and end up back in prison within a week. But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d found love and family and everything he hadn’t thought he deserved.

Jesus, had it really been six months already?

He’d been so focused on rebuilding the bakery, on learning to live with Nessie and Oliver, that he hadn’t thought about his future at the ranch. The program Walker had designed was meant to be temporary, a way station between prison and whatever came next. Most guys stayed their six months, then moved on.

But leave? The thought made his chest tighten.

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” he admitted, watching the red roan toss its head and snort. The horse was beautiful—proud and wild, with intelligent eyes that seemed to take in everything. Nothing like plodding Lazy Susan, who was practically asleep on her feet half the time.

“Well, start thinking,” Walker said. “Because I’d like you to stay on. Permanently.”

Jax gripped the fence rail harder, his knuckles going white against the weathered wood. “What?”

“Ranch could use another full-time hand,” Boone said. “Someone who knows the animals, understands the work. Someone the other guys respect. You’ll get a boost in pay, and you and Nessie can continue living in the cabin.”

Jax’s mind reeled. Stay permanently? He’d assumed—hell, he’d never let himself think beyond tomorrow. The idea of afuture that stretched out longer than his parole requirements had seemed too dangerous to contemplate.

“I don’t know what to say,” he managed.

“Say yes,” Walker said simply.

“Yes,” he answered just as simply. Of course he was going to stay. He had Nessie and Oliver here. He had friends—no, more than that, brothers. Leaving wasn’t an option.

Walker smirked and nodded to the roan. “Then that horse is yours. You’ve outgrown Suzy. It’s time for a horse that’ll challenge you, not just tolerate you.”

As if sensing that they were talking about him, the horse reared up and slammed its front hooves back down with an emphatic stomp.

“What, you trying to kill me?” Jax muttered.

“You can handle him,” Boone said.

Echo, as horse crazy as she was, only saw a new friend. Before Jax could stop her, she slipped under the bottom rail of the fence, her slender body easily fitting through the gap. His heart jumped into his throat—a dog in with a nervous horse was a recipe for disaster.

“Echo, no—” he started, but Walker’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“Wait,” the older man said quietly. “Watch.”

Echo didn’t approach the horse directly. Instead, she found a patch of dirt near the center of the corral and sat, her body relaxed, her gaze not quite meeting the horse’s. It was the same technique he had used on her all those months ago.

The roan’s head came up, nostrils flaring as he caught Echo’s scent. He paced a wide circle, never taking his eyes off the dog, but Echo remained perfectly still, a picture of serene indifference.

“Well, would you look at that,” River drawled from behind them. “Calm recognizes calm.”

Jax turned to find the entire Valor Ridge crew had materialized along the fence line. Anson leaned against the fence, his scarred hands folded in front of him, eyes narrowed in assessment. Jonah stood a few feet away, his usual kind smile in place as he watched the scene unfold. River had perched himself on the top rail, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. X lounged against the fence with his usual casual grace, while Bear’s massive form created a shadow that stretched across the dirt. Even Ghost had appeared, hanging back as always but watching with that unnerving intensity that missed nothing.

“Who else is coming to this party?” Jax muttered, uncomfortable with the audience.

“Jax!” Oliver ran toward the corral, Nessie following at a more measured pace. The boy grabbed the fence rails, hoisting himself up to get a better view. “Is that your new horse? He’s so cool!”

The roan’s ears flicked at the sound of Oliver’s voice, but the horse had begun to inch closer to Echo, curiosity apparently winning out over caution. Echo remained perfectly still, allowing the horse to approach at his own pace. Finally, the roan stretched out his neck, nostrils flaring as he sniffed Echo’s fur.

“Now,” Walker said quietly. “Move slow. Let him come to you.”

Jax slipped between the fence rails, his movements deliberately measured and calm. He kept his breathing even, the way he’d learned to do during sniper training—in for four, hold for four, out for four. The horse’s head came up, ears pricked forward, but he didn’t bolt, which was a good sign. Jax stood perfectly still, allowing the animal to take his measure.

“That’s it,” Walker murmured. “He’s deciding if you’re worth the trouble.”

Apparently, Jax passed inspection because the roan took a tentative step in his direction, then another. When he was closeenough, Jax slowly raised his hand, palm flat, and held it steady. The horse’s velvet muzzle brushed his fingertips, warm breath ghosting across his skin.

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