Chapter 18
Santee and Ahmed rode the stallions into the yard just as a familiar blue pickup pulled in.
“Cord’s here early,” Santee commented as she turned Rogue over to Uncle Sol. She preferred to put the horse away herself, but he still needed to learn to allow others to touch him. Right now that meant Ahmed and Uncle Sol.
“Big confab,” Sol said. He patted the stallion’s sweat-dried neck. Rogue snorted and tossed his scarred head.
“This early?” Santee ran her hand down the dappled gray rump as she headed for breakfast which she’d have skipped if it weren’t mandatory. And now a confab.
Cord Walker was a tall, lean Texan. A cowboy from the top of his hat to the tips of his scratched boots. He’d been an assistant manager of a giant ranch in Texas when his eldest daughter, Katie, a strai
