Page 16 of All We Carry Home

His eyes sparkled at the challenge. “You’re on.”

“What in the world are you doing in Oregon?”

“Kenneth Roland recommended I seek Bill Birkstrom. Isn’t this his stables?”

I stepped off the side of the trailer and held back the tears that clawed at the corners of my eyes. “He is—well, he was my grandfather.”

Warren frowned. “Was?”

“He passed away a few days ago.” I motioned to my dress. “We buried him this morning.”

Warren’s shoulders sank. “I’m so sorry.” The depth of his words went beyond feeling empathetic for a stranger. He pointed in the direction Victor had left. “Your neighbor came over for this friendly chat right after your grandfather’s funeral?”

I nodded. That was what the Birkstroms and Merricks had done for generations. They threatened, they stole, and they passed the resentment on to the next crop of children. At one point, I’d hoped to break that cycle.

Other pieces slowly clicked into place in my mind. “If you were referred to my grandfather, that means no one else wanted to take him on.”

“He wasn’t weaned properly and then was isolated and neglected.” Warren put a hand on his hip and ran the other through his hair. “He’s actually quite dangerous.”

A thousand thoughts crashed through my head in the same moment. This was my first and perhaps only chance at a client. This was also the type of horse Gramps and I specialized in. Or we had, five years ago before I shipped out. Phantom could be the sole redemption for the ranch and the remnants of Gramps’s training program. His legacy.

If I didn’t act quickly, I’d lose my chance, and I’d most certainly lose everything to the Merricks.

“I can train him.” I knew I could. And the horse’s physical prowess, renowned bloodlines, and unique marking were a recipe that could make him a superstar. “Give me a chance and he could be a national champion.”

Warren

National champion?

I could hardly believe that Lieutenant Eva Bryant stood before me. That this mythical trainer—my last option—had been her grandfather.

My mind raced, and my pulse hadn’t calmed after seeing the neighbor towering over her and threatening her. I’d need to figure out more behind that story, but I only cared now that she was safe, the threat removed, at least temporarily.

For two weeks, I’d driven and thought about Kenneth’s idea—and what I wanted in life. As I reached Oregon, I’d convinced myself that it was worth a shot—I’d run for the senator’s seat and fight alongside Kenneth in his new crusade. I’d called him from the road to let him know, committing to this path. I had a mission once again.

Never would I have expected Eva to reappear in my life. I was grateful for this second chance.

Now we stood in the high desert of Oregon, the heat of the sun bearing down upon us. The farm was vast. A beautifully carved Birkstrom Ranch wooden sign hung above the driveway gate. The barns were weather aged and in need of fresh paint. The ranch house was small and ragged around the edges. Two horses grazed in a distant paddock, but there was no other sign of additional staff or trainers.

If Bill Birkstrom was gone, could Eva train the horse instead?

She’d been confident in the way she handled Mira in Germany and the way she delivered the colt. Dr. Baumann had spoken of her mastery—in animal husbandry. Everything was different now. Phantom wasn’t the same horse he was a year ago. I bore the bruises and cuts to prove it. And over the past five weeks I’d owned him, I’d wondered time and time again whether I could even save him from himself.

Given Kenneth’s recommendation, I’d pictured Birkstrom as a towering, strong man who would be able to subdue the rowdy colt. But Lieutenant Eva Bryant was nearly a foot shorter than me and a hundred pounds soaking wet.

I grimaced at my thoughts. Mother would slap my head for thinking such direct thoughts about a woman, but it was hard not to acknowledge the reality of the situation. Phantom was dangerous—I knew that for certain.

As if Eva picked up on the direction of my thoughts, she took a small step closer and held my gaze with a determined look. The fact that she wore her funeral dress and heels seemed to further emphasize her commitment.

“I can do this. You’ve seen my work before.”

I held up a hand. “The past year has been hard on Phantom. He’s not what you might recall.”

“What have you got to lose?”

You, I thought.

“If you’re here now, you must not have anyone left.”