Leaning over, I place a soft kiss on her head, then turn away just as her employees are walking through the door with baskets of veggies from the garden.

“See you later,” I say, then leave. I sent her flowers on Valentine's Day, and the note I left wasn’t a joke. I would make it worth her while if she’d let me.

When I get in the truck, I call and let Jackson know I’m on the way. Apparently, a mare’s being delivered this afternoon. It slipped my mind that I needed to check her in, but I got to the barn in record time.

Jackson pulls hay down from the loft, and I grab a few bales and help distribute it to each stall. It’s a revolving door with training now that three of us are doing it. Kiera and Jackson have been happy with how much we’ve grown the facility, and the word has traveled fast. We’re booked nearly two years in advance, and the waitlist is a mile long too. Wouldn’t be surprised if they hire a few more people to keep up with the demand.

Before long, a truck with a gooseneck horse trailer comes traveling down the rock drive. A man parks and pops out of the cab and walks over to me. “You Gavin?”

“Yes, sir,” I tell him.

He nods. “I’m Billy Gibson. Own the ranch a ways down. Ready to unload her?”

“Sure am. And very nice to meet you.”

Billy goes to the back and lifts the bar to the trailer gate. The mare instantly starts throwing her hoof out, ready to kick one of us. She’s pissed.

“We call her Angel,” he tells me with a thick Southern accent.

I chuckle. “Sarcasm, I assume?”

“Absolutely, son.”

“Perfect, I’ve got one named Demon right now. They’ll probably get along just fine.”

Just as I’m assisting Billy, I see Grayson and Diesel pull up in the old beat-up Ford. They go inside the office, and I do a walk around of the horse. We like to make a note of any injuries before accepting them. I lift her hooves, and she’s not having it, but thankfully, she’s not too big or hard to handle yet.

“Whatever you do, don’t walk behind her,” he warns and pulls me back.

“Thanks,” I tell him.

“She might’ve kicked your balls right off. It’s one of her bad habits,” he explains. “Her only goal is to take out anyone or anything that gets behind her flank. My dog learned his lesson real quick.”

I nod and check the other side. “Noted. Well, she looks good.”

“Y’all gonna earn your money with this one,” he says, patting her.