Page 47 of Savage Heart

I kneel and finish Copper’s hoof without saying anything. When I look up, his arms are folded. He sighs.

“I’ll put the saddle away,” he says, grabbing it.

I meet him in the tack room, where he’s hanging his saddle higher than usual, stretching up on his toes. He looks back at me.

“Nice. You got it up high.”

He grins, and his shoulders square. “Dad says I probably won’t be taller than you, but I might be stronger if I work out.”

“Probably so.”

That earns me another grin.

After dinner, when everyone has cleared out but our family, Dad stops me with his hand on my shoulder.

“You were awfully quiet during dinner. What’s up?”

I sigh and look around to make sure Lincoln really is gone.

“Lincoln is acting funny. He has been for a while.”

“Funny, how?”

“It’s like everything is suddenly a game, and he wants to make sure he wins . . . over things that I didn’t even know we were playing. How much faster he brushes Copper, how he beats me to the creek. How he’s going to be stronger than me. When Iris is around, it’s like he wants to make her laugh hardest.” I lean back against the kitchen counter and sigh. “It’s okay with me if he wins, but now, I don’t know . . . it’s different. It didn’t use to be like that. And he calls me Prince Harrington.” I make a face.

“Ah, Son.” Dad moves next to me and puts his arm around my shoulder. “I’m sorry. You’ve been blessed with a double dose of your parents’ perceptiveness. It will serve you well when it comes to business and learning who you can and can’t trust, but it can also be hard at times. Sometimes it would be easier to not see as much.”

He turns to face me and lifts my chin so my eyes meet his before he sets his hand back on my shoulder.

“I want you to hear this. Lincoln loves you. It’s been amazing to watch, the two of you best buds from the time you were aware of each other. I think you were about three months old when that really happened. You’d make each other laugh even then.”

I smile. I love hearing the stories about us when we were babies.

“I’ve noticed a little shift with Lincoln too, but I have faith that you guys will be okay. I think it’s hard for him seeing some differences between your life and his. You live in the big house, while he’s in a smaller one right here on the same property. I’ve told Manny he can build a bigger one, but he doesn’t want to.” He chuckles. “I don’t want anyone to be treated differently and make sure it’s not that way around here, but outside of the ranch, it might be from time to time.”

He sighs and is quiet for a moment.

“Manny said some kids at school were teasing Lincoln about being the poor kid always following you around, and Lincoln took it really hard.” He shakes his head.

“Who said that?” I straighten, fury rushing through my veins. “That’s not even true.”

“I know it’s not, and it’s not important who said it.” He gives me a pointed look. “Unless you hear someone saying something like that, and then you have my permission to set them straight.”

“I can’t believe anyone said those things to him.” I cross my arms and slump back. “No wonder he’s been acting different.”

“Just keep being who you’ve always been—a loyal friend.”

I nod.

I try really hard to make sure Lincoln doesn’t feel left out anymore. And then, just when I feel like things are pretty much back to normal with Lincoln and me—even if he’s still competitive sometimes—Iris goes weird on me.

I find myself wanting to talk to her all the time. When she goes home, I miss her and want to call her. She comes to the ranch almost every day. Her mom is drinking more and more, and Iris doesn’t like to be home when men are there, which is a lot of the time.

She’s always smiling when she’s at the ranch, always wants to go riding, and if we go into the library after riding, she can get lost in the books for hours. But she’s been moody lately. And that’s not like her.

She’s been over every day this week and hasn’t ridden once. She doesn’t even want to ride Lucky with me.

Lincoln is visiting his family in Idaho, so it’s just the two of us. We walk out to the creek, and she sits on the low fence, looking pale. When she sees me staring at her, she straightens and winces.