Chapter 12

“He’s in pain but refuses to leave his frickin’ horse. Aren’t you his guide?”

Brett nodded.

“Then you gotta persuade him to go to the human re-gen facility.”

Brett puffed out his cheeks. Expelling the air, he said, “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“He’s a stubborn one, that’s for sure.” The guy chuckled and picked up his buckets. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, I’ll need it,” Brett said under his breath, jogging down to Willow’s stall.

Kneeling in the straw—just like in his dream—Jake was running his hands along Willow’s flank. But unlike in his dream, the cowboy was also rubbing his face into the horse’s neck, the man’s Stetson laying a foot or so away in the straw.

“Jake, it’s Brett. You remember…from earlier.”

“I remember.” Jake didn’t lift his head.

Brett entered the stall, knelt next to Jake, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Your eyes are hurting.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Darn things.”