Page 9 of Savage Heart

And the ghost of who she used to be, standing behind her like a shadow.

I scrub a hand down my face.

Work. I need work.

Luckily, this ranch always has more than enough of that.

“Come on, boy,” I say to Pickle, and he stays close, keeping up with me.

Inside the operations building, the place is buzzing. The whiteboards are covered in schedules. Summer preparations are already in full swing—between the cattle, the horses, the crops, and the two-week intensive kids’ camp we host every year, it’s somewhat chaotic right now.

“Morning, boss,” Muriel says when I walk in.

She’s kept this place running and color coded for the past thirty-five years.

“It’s past noon,” I say.

She snorts. “I’ve lost track of time during camp prep, and your dad’s been extra chatty.” She lifts her eyebrows and grins. “Grady’s in the back going over vaccine schedules for the calves, and Cameron’s looking for you. Something about the trail layout for the camp kids?”

“Great,” I mutter.

I head down the hall, and Grady’s standing at the stainless-steel table, his brows furrowed as he studies notes. He doesn’t even look up when he says, “Cameron’s looking for you.”

“So I heard.”

He looks up at me. “You look like you just got run over by a bull.”

“Still better looking than you.”

He snorts. “Keep telling yourself that, little brother.”

He studies me a beat longer than necessary. Grady sees everything—has since we were kids.

“You run into a problem in town?”

Just a stranger I’d rather never see again.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I say.

Grady doesn’t buy it, but he also doesn’t push. Not yet anyway.

“There’s a cow limping out in the east pasture,” he says instead. “I’ll need help bringing her in later.”

“All right.”

“And we need to check the fencing by the river. Teddy reported a gap.”

“Fine.”

“And—”

“Grady,” I cut in, “just give me the list.”

He hands me the clipboard without another word.

I look at the long list and am unusually happy with how busy it’ll keep me. Maybe it will be enough of a distraction to not think.

I turn to go, but Grady’s voice follows me. “Maverick.”