Chapter 1

“The infection has gone too far. There’s nothing more we can do except put him down.”

Dr. Warren Keats pulls off his gloves, his voice heavy.

No one in the barn dares to speak.

Marcus Winthrop sits several feet away in his wheelchair.

The billionaire heir to Winthrop Ranch is famous for two things: winning championships on horseback and never losing his cool.

Right now, his face looks dark enough to scare everyone in the room.

And me?

I’m the new stable hand standing all the way in the back, biting the inside of my cheek so hard it hurts.

Because the dying horse is screaming in my head.

“These stupid shoes are killing me!”

“I’m not standing up because I’m protesting! PROTESTING!”

“And now these idiots want to kill me?”

“I’m going to die because none of you can understand plain English!”

I clutch the hem of my work shirt.

Then I slowly raise my hand.

“Um... maybe we could try taking off his horseshoes first?”

...

My name is Nora Daven.

I’m broke, unlucky, and unfortunately able to understand horses.

Not guess what they want.

Not read their body language.

I mean actually understand them.

Every word.

I’ve been able to do it since I was little.

My family learned very quickly that this talent was not nearly as useful as it sounded.

The last time my mother tried to set me up on a blind date, there was a chestnut carriage horse tied outside the restaurant.

The guy had barely said hello when the horse snorted behind him.

“That’s him!”

“He stepped in horse crap ten minutes ago!”

“He wiped his shoe on that bush!”

“He thinks nobody saw him. I saw everything!”

I laughed so hard I nearly choked.

Then I made the mistake of turning around and answering the horse.

My date stared at me.

“Are you... talking to that horse?”

The date ended five minutes later.

My mother nearly lost her mind.

“Nora Daven, if you talk to another horse in public, don’t expect me to explain to people that you’re not insane!”

After that, I learn to keep my mouth shut.

A horse can insult my hair, my clothes, or my intelligence right in front of me.

I don’t react.

For years, no one finds out.

Until today.

My dad’s business failed last year.

My mom’s medical bills keep piling up.

So when Winthrop Ranch starts hiring, I take the first job I can get.

Stable hand.

Feed the horses.

Clean stalls.

Brush coats.

Keep my head down.

Simple.

Except on my first day, the barn manager grabs me before I’ve even finished learning where everything is.

One of the horses is dying.

That horse is Snow.

He’s a young white colt lying in the middle of a thick bed of straw.

Even before I came here, I’d heard about him.

His mother, Silver Star, was Marcus Winthrop’s favorite horse.

Years ago, Marcus was badly injured during a riding accident in the mountains.

Silver Star carried him miles back toward the ranch while he was bleeding and barely conscious.

Marcus survived.

She didn’t.

Snow is the only foal she ever left behind.

Marcus treats him like he’s made of gold.

Snow gets the best feed money can buy.

Three employees take turns grooming him.

Even his horseshoes are custom-made by one of the most expensive farriers in Texas.

But for the past five days, Snow has refused to eat.

For the past three, he’s barely stood.

Now he won’t get up at all.

Dr. Keats examines him one last time.

Then he straightens.

“The infection has gone too far. There’s nothing more we can do except put him down.”

The barn goes silent again.

Claire Hensley, Marcus’s fiancée, presses a hand to her mouth.

Her eyes are red.

“There really isn’t anything else you can try?”

She looks down at Snow.

“He’s all Marcus has left of Silver Star.”

Marcus sits stiffly in his wheelchair.

His injured leg is still braced.

His face is pale, but his back is perfectly straight.

He stares at Snow.

“Check him again.”

Dr. Keats hesitates.

Then he kneels and examines Snow from head to hoof.

A minute later, he stands.

“Marcus, waiting will only make him suffer longer.”

His voice softens.

“Snow was bred to run. A horse like him can’t live like this. He won’t eat. He can’t stand. Keeping him alive now would only be cruel.”

Everyone lowers their eyes.

Marcus closes his for a second.

His jaw tightens.

The entire barn fills with Snow’s weak, miserable whinnying.

To everyone else, it sounds heartbreaking.

To me, it sounds very different.

“Quack!”

“Stupid fake doctor!”

“I’m not sick!”

“My feet hurt!”

“I stopped eating because nobody listened to me!”

“These shoes are too tight!”

“Every step hurts!”

“Try wearing shoes two sizes too small and see if you feel like walking!”

I press my lips together.

Hard.

Oh my God.

Snow isn’t dying from some mystery infection.

His horseshoes hurt.

He got angry and stopped eating.

Then he got so weak from his little hunger strike that he couldn’t stand.

And one of the most respected equine vets in Texas thinks he’s dying.

Snow groans again.

“And now the big idiot in the wheelchair is going to have me killed!”

“I’m too young to die!”

“I haven’t even become the most handsome stallion in Texas yet!”

I nearly laugh.

I quickly lower my head.

Then, against my better judgment, I glance at him.

Snow suddenly stops complaining.

His shiny black eyes lock onto mine.

For one long second, he just stares.

Then his voice explodes inside my head.

“You!”

My stomach drops.

“The new girl in the back!”

I immediately look away.

Nope.

Not me.

“You heard me!”

I stare at the floor.

“You definitely heard me!”

Snow struggles to lift his head.

“Stop pretending!”

I lower my head even farther.

Please don’t look at me.

Please don’t look at me.

I’m just a broke stable girl who finally found a job.

I cannot afford to get fired on my first day.