The brand new barn looked like it had just recently been painted. It had been little comfort to learn that no animals had been killed when the old barn had been torched. He’d managed to glean a little bit of information about what had happened that day as he’d been talking to Luke but he hadn’t pressed the other man for details because he hadn’t wanted to hear the disdain in Luke’s voice that he knew would be there since they both knew whose fault it was that Finn and the men he loved had had to endure so much unjustified hatred. He’d been horrified when he’d overheard Gray telling Roman about the barn yesterday but he’d nearly lost it when Gray had said Finn had gotten shot. Luke had reassured him this morning that Finn had made a complete recovery but it didn’t change the fact that it never should have happened in the first place.
The barn was empty when Hunter entered so he walked all the way through it to the other side which led to some pastures. He could see several horses grazing in the larger pasture on the hill behind the barn but there was one horse standing nervously in the center of a round corral just beyond the barn. It shifted uneasily at his approach and then moved as far away from him as it could when he folded his arms across the top of the fence. Even from a distance, he could see scars covering the animal’s nearly all white coat. He took a few steps around the edge of the corral to get a closer look and began humming the tune of one of his favorite songs to try to soothe the animal as he neared it. To his amazement, the horse didn’t move. It shifted back and forth and tossed its head several times but stayed where it was. Hunter once again folded his arms over the top of the fence and began singing the words to the song. By the time he was done, the horse had actually taken a few steps toward him.
The animal watched him warily and although it didn’t come any closer, it didn’t move away either. “I get it,” Hunter whispered to the animal and he watched its ears flick forward. They watched each other for a while until the horse’s ears began to twitch and then it started shaking its head again and striking the ground with its massive hoof. It let out a sharp whinny and then backed up until it was as far away from him as it could get. It wasn’t until a voice spoke from off to his right that he realized he was no longer alone.
“Can I help you?”
The man watching him from near the barn door was huge – bigger than Roman or even the cop who’d tried to kick his ass yesterday. His black hair was partially hidden by a brown cowboy hat and he was wearing a long sleeved work shirt and faded blue jeans. Hunter had no doubt he was looking at Callan Bale, the owner of the CB Bar Ranch and Finn’s other lover. He swallowed hard and tried to speak but found that the words wouldn’t come out. So much for not letting his cowardice show.
The man began walking towards him and Hunter was ridiculously proud of himself for standing his ground.
“His name’s King.”
“What?” Hunter asked stupidly.
The man nodded towards the horse. “His name’s King. The rescue group that saved him named him that because of what he had to go through to get here. They figured a strong horse deserved a strong name.” He draped his arms over the corral and studied the horse who had settled down somewhat but still seemed agitated.
“This is as close as he lets me get to him,” the guy said quietly. “It’s been four months. We have to use those” – the man motioned over his shoulder to a bunch of metal gates leaning up against the fence – “to move him back and forth from his stall and we have to sedate him for the vet to look at him or for the farrier to work on his feet.”
“I’m sorry,” Hunter murmured as he looked back at the horse.
“What were you saying to him?”
“What? Nothing,” Hunter blurted. But when the guy just pinned him with a hard stare, Hunter said, “I wasn’t talking – I was singing.”
The man didn’t respond at first. “You told him you get it,” he finally said.
Damn, the man had good ears.
“Get what?” he asked as he turned his back on the horse and stared at Hunter.
“Nothing,” Hunter answered quickly.
“I’m Callan Bale,” the man finally said and when he extended his hand, Hunter wanted to throw up. God, a few more seconds and this man was going to tear him limb from limb.
Steeling himself, Hunter didn’t reach out his hand. Instead he said, “Mr. Bale, I’m Hunter Greene.”
The blow he was waiting for never came. There were no words of hatred or damning him to hell. Instead Callan just said, “I know” and continued to hold his hand out expectantly.