Page 6 of Cowboy's Healing Heart

We stand in silence for a moment, the sky gradually lightening around us. I notice the shadows under her eyes and the tense set of her jaw. Whatever brought her out here this early wasn’t peaceful sleep.

“So,” I say finally, “what’s on the agenda for today?”

Krystal’s lips quirk in what might be a smile. “Eager to get started, huh? Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty lined up to keep you busy.”

There’s a challenge in her voice, one that sparks something in me. I meet her gaze steadily. “That’s why I’m here.”

She studies me for a long moment, her dark eyes unreadable. Then she nods, almost to herself. “Alright then. Let’s see what you’re made of, Kennedy. How about I give you a quick tour?”

“I’d like that.”

The hum of the ranch greeting the day rolls over the pastures, and cattle roam in the distance. It’s peaceful.

But as we reach the barn door, a shrill ring cuts through the comfortable silence between us. Krystal tenses, her hand flying to her pocket. She pulls out her phone, glancing at the screen—all hints of solace drain from her face.

“I have to take this,” she says, her voice tight. Before I can respond, she’s striding away, her words floating back to me on the breeze.

“Jordan, what the hell do you want?”

TWO

ALL WE HAVE

KRYSTAL

The phone buzzesin my pocket, and my stomach drops. Another call from Ashanti’s school.

I step away from the tractor I’ve been working on, wiping my greasy hands on my jeans. The cool metal of the wrench I’ve been using presses against my thigh, a reminder of the work I’m leaving unfinished.

“Ms. Duncan? This is Principal Hawkins.”

I close my eyes, bracing myself. The familiar knot of anxiety tightens in my chest. “What’s she done now?”

“I’m afraid Ashanti’s been in another fight. We’ve had to send her home for the day.”

My hand grips the phone tighter. This isn’t my daughter. Not the Ashanti I know. The sweet girl who used to curl up next to me on the couch, her head on my shoulder as we read stories together. The child who’d beam with pride when she brought home perfect test scores. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I end the call, my mind racing. Ashanti’s always been a good kid. Straight A’s never caused trouble. But since we moved to Ironhaven? It’s like she’s a different person.

The relocation was supposed to be a clean slate, an opportunity to leave behind the shadow of Jordan’s meddling and create a new life. But instead, it feels like our family is coming apart at the seams.

I glance at my watch. It’s barely past noon, and I’ve got a mountain of work to get through. The tractor behind me sits half-repaired, its innards exposed to the dusty air of the barn. Tools are scattered around it, a sign of the work I’m leaving behind.

But Ashanti comes first. Always.

As I scan the yard for Tom or Kelvin, my mind drifts back to how I ended up here at Silver Creek Ranch. It wasn’t that long ago that I was bouncing from ranch to ranch, never staying in one place for too long. I was always looking over my shoulder, waiting for Jordan to catch up with us.

But then I heard about Andy’s ranch, a refuge for veterans and others looking for a fresh start. It seemed like the perfect opportunity—a chance to put down roots and give Ashanti some stability.

But stability, it turns out, is harder to come by than I thought.

Instead of Tom or Kelvin, I spot Shane carrying a toolbox toward one of the barns. His t-shirt clings to his broad shoulders, damp with sweat from the morning’s work.

Perfect.

Shane walks toward the barn, his dark hair hidden beneath his cowboy hat. He’s tall—damn near towering over the equipment—as he moves with a combination of grace and strength.

I shake my head, trying to clear the heat rising in my cheeks. I refuse to get tangled up in how he looks or how my stomach does a Texas Hold’Em when my eyes catch the deep blue of his.

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