When Cade arrives, I head out to greet him. He's in a dirty pickup with a toolbox in the back and a calmness in his posture that settles me even before he speaks. He's younger than I expected. Maybe early thirties. Wears confidence like a second skin.
"Where is he?" he asks.
"Stall three. Duke. My brothers are with him."
Following me inside, he crouches by the gelding without fuss. He murmurs as he examines the leg, his fingers gentle but firm. Duke doesn't flinch. I watch closely. Cade knows what he's doing.
"Swelling has localized. It could be a sprain or an early tendon strain. I'll run a flex test, maybe an ultrasound. We caught it quickly. That's good."
I nod. "Can he recover?"
Cade glances up. "If he rests, gets the right treatment, and you follow protocol to the letter, yes. Even older guys like this can make a full recovery."
I rub the back of my neck. "We'll do whatever it takes."
My brothers agree with me, and Cade sets to work. While he moves between treatments, I watch. There's a rhythm to him; it’s obvious he's done this a thousand times. The way he speaks to Duke, calm and low, the way he handles the equipment like it's an extension of himself.
"You've got good hands," I say.
He chuckles. "My younger brother says it's the first time I've ever used them for something that mattered."
I raise a brow. "That right?"
"Yeah. He plays pro ball. NFL. Always thought I was wasting potential in vet school. Guess he finally came around when I fixed his dog's dislocated hip."
The name Cade had mentioned when we first talked clicks into place. I remember watching his brother play on Sunday afternoons. One of those rare talents that makes it all look easy. I remember the headlines. The interviews. The fame. It's a strange contrast to see his brother here now, grounded, steady, and covered in horse hair and dust. It makes me think about the choices people make. How one brother can chase stadium lights while the other finds purpose in the quiet steadiness of healing.
I grin. "That'll do it."
He smiles, just a flicker. "Animals don't lie. That's what I like about this work. You listen close enough, they always tell you what they need."
I nod slowly. That hits harder than I want it to. Maybe because I've been tangled in words lately. Words that meant one thing at night, through a screen, and something else entirely in daylight. Maybe because Kassi still lingers in the back of my mind like a half-finished thought.
We finish wrapping Duke's leg and get him settled with strict instructions for rest and limited movement. Cade hands me a packet of notes.
"Text me if anything changes," he says.
"Will do."
"Thank you, Cade," I say, voice raw. It comes out rougher than intended. He meets my gaze for a second, a flicker in his eyes—empathy, maybe, or something like it.
He loads up his gear and drives off, leaving me alone with Zach and Finn.
Zach crosses his arms and leans against the stall. "He seems solid. You trust him?"
I know he's talking about Cade. He's new to town and will have to prove himself not just to us but to all the ranchers. Next time we are in town, word will have already spread that Cade has been to our ranch, and we’ll be peppered with questions, but we will be ready.
"Yeah," I say. "Knows his stuff. Doesn't waste time."
Finn crouches beside Duke again, gently stroking his neck. "Poor guy. He'll pull through, though. He's a tough old thing."
Zach glances at me. "You good? You've been kind of... off lately."
I shrug, trying to play it off. "Just a lot on my mind."
Finn straightens. "If this is about Kassi, say so. We're not blind, Ash."
I give them a look but don't answer. Not really. Just shake my head. "Let's focus on Duke."