“Middleburg, Virginia. Of all the places…”

The cowboy opened the driver’s side door of his old blue ford, the daphne blue paint chipped and faded. The old thing was more of an antique at this point than a functioning means of transportation, but Nash didn’t care. He would repair every piece of his truck twice if it meant keeping it around a few more years.

“You sound thrilled,” the voice on the other end of the phone dripped with sarcasm. Other than the difference in emotion, it was a dead ringer for his own. The two brothers had gotten into some mischief in their youth thanks to that, and all of the other strikingly similar qualities they possessed.

“Would you shut it? For three years all I’ve heard is you blabbin’ on about how I couldn’t move on. ‘Get over it, Nash. It’s just a ranch, Nash. We’ll make a way for ourselves somewhere else, Nash. Stop trying to save something that can’t be saved.’ Now that I’ve found me a place to plant my roots, I don’t wanna hear none of it.”

The only sound on the other end of the line was a restrained laugh. “Fair enough, brother. Have it your way.”

“Listen, Sawyer, I’ve got to go make my introductions. Is Willa around?”

“Not that I’ve seen in the past, oh,” there was a dramatic pause, “three hours and thirty-seven minutes. She’s late. Probably out galavanting with that Peterson boy instead of helping me with yearlings.”

“Who would’ve thought…” Nash’s gaze lifted from where it had settled on his boots, drawing circles in the gravel and creating dust. “Well, tell her to call me when the spirit moves her. I miss you both.”

“We miss you too.” There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Nash took his phone away from his ear to ensure that the call was still in progress. “Nash?”

“Yes, brother?”

“It’s for the best.”

…

It’s for the best. Those words echoed in Nash’s head for the rest of the day. He loved his brother more than anything but Sawyer Brooks could be an arrogant know-it-all at times. None of this was for the best. If anything, it was for the worst. He didn’t understand how his siblings couldn’t see that. They had a dead mother, a father who had gone off the deep end and was probably living on a mountaintop somewhere drinking himself to death, and now they had nothing but a fraction of their family ranch after losing a lengthy court battle against both the government and a million dollar corporation that wanted to turn their farm into some resort. His siblings were in Arkansas and didn’t seem to care one bit about whether they owned the land they’d grown up on, learned to ride on, learned to hunt on, had all of their firsts on. And here was Nash, in Middleburg, Virginia, working for some elitist english riding facility that seemed to have more money than he had in horses. If sixteen-year-old Nash had been asked where he thought he would be in ten years, he was confident that the younger version of himself would never have imagined this.

Nonetheless, the lanky cowboy took long, methodical strides towards the main office. When he arrived, he was met by a pleasant brunette who smiled and offered him coffee. He obliged, finding his way into a chair in the corner of the room.

“Brooks, Brooks, Brooks,” she muttered to herself, looking through the filing cabinets in the office. She made a mental note to come in later and help Maggie organize all of the folders because they hadn’t been done in a while and lacked any sort of structure. Finally, she pulled a folder full of paperwork out and slid it across the desk, towards the blond. He seemed almost indifferent, it was an odd sight to witness. Most new employees were nervous. They tapped their fingers on the chairs or moved their legs nervously, eyes darting everywhere. They would say anything to impress anyone who had any pull around here. This man just sat calmly, arms crossed, occasionally stirring the coffee in his hand. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

As Meghan examined the paperwork on the desk, ensuring it was all there before she handed it over, a gentle knock preceded the opening of the office door. A lean, dark-featured man entered with a kind smile, his dark hair curly and unkempt. “Hi, Meghan,” his smile softened just slightly, and the intern found herself thinking about what a genuinely kind and pure soul he was. He was one of her favorite people in the barn, he was just so genuinely nice all of the time.

“Cesar, hey! What can I do for you?:

“Oh, nothing, thank you. I came to see an old friend.”

By this time, Nash had already put the coffee down on the desk. He grinned down at the man, who was tall in his own right. They both towered over the brunette behind the desk, but Nash was well over six foot while Cesar was just shy of it.

“Cesar! Hey buddy, long time no see!”

“How is your family?”

“Willa’s feisty as ever, Sawyer has a promising string of horses for this coming year, and last I heard Paw was living it up in the mountains somewhere. You know him...”

“I am sorry to hear that,” the older man smiled, but his eyes showed empathy and even a bit of sorrow. “I am very glad to see you, though. If you need anything please don’t hesitate to ask.”

After Cesar had left, Nash got back to signing the papers on the desk. Meghan sat in her chair, mystified by the interaction she just witnessed. After thinking about it and letting her curiosity get the better of her, she said, “I don’t mean to pry, but-”“I was wondering if you were gonna ask,” he interrupted nonchalantly, not once looking up from the paperwork he was signing. “Let me guess, he’s been here for longer than you can remember and you still have no idea who he is or any part of him other than the fact that he lives here and he works with horses?” He grinned a mischievous, funny grin, glancing up at her for just a moment before returning to the task at hand. “Cesar used to train horses with my dad in Montana before he became the OTTB guru he is today. Scarily enough, we helped him learn English. Talk about a horror story...”

Nash slid over the paperwork and Meghan slid over a packet with his name on it. She was a fairly serious person, but the ghost of a smile lingered on her lips from his words. “There’s pretty much anything you could need in there. Housing and food recommendations, a map of the farm, a detailed schedule of what your position entails. But, if you need anything, you’re more than welcome to come back to the office for help.”

“Thank you,” he replied casually, though it was obvious that asking for help wasn’t in his vocabulary. Exiting the barn office, Nash went directly back to his truck and started it up, driving back off property to kill some time before his responsibilities began in the evening.