The Rancher's Wife by April Arrington Read Free Book Online Page A

and kicking harder.
    Amy choked back a sob and shoved to her feet. Logan was right. Thunder wasn’t the same. But to consider ending his life...
    â€œYou can’t put him down, Logan,” she said, turning away and stumbling on the loose heel of her shoe. “Not without giving him a fair shot.”
    Logan held her arms and steadied her. “I have. Nothing has worked. He’s a danger to himself and the other horses and he’s especially aggressive around the boys. There’s not one single rehabilitation outfit willing to relocate him after laying eyes on him.” He sighed. “I can’t, in good conscience, allow him to exist in fear and isolation with no quality of life. I’m sorry. There’s nothing else that can be done.”
    Amy ducked her burning face. “That’s not true,” she said, pushing past him. “There’s always a way.”
    The urge to return to Thunder was strong. To stay at his side, try to coax his spirit back and give him a fighting chance. But that would mean staying. And it was time to move on.
    She dragged her purse strap back onto her shoulder and brushed at her clothes. But even though the creases in the material released, the guilt remained. It clung to her skin and clogged her throat, suffocating her. Just as it had every day for the past four years.
    Her steps slowed, legs stilling of their own accord. She cast one last look at Thunder’s violent attack on the stall. “Surely, there’s something you can d—”
    Thunder’s screech overtook her voice, the words dying on her lips.
    â€œHe fought hard to survive, Amy.” Logan’s expression turned grim, his thumb spinning the ring on his finger. “But, sometimes, that’s just not enough.”
    She spun, taking swift strides out of the stable and away from the stallion’s broken state. She’d worked hard to survive, too. And she couldn’t gamble the new life she’d fought for to recapture a past full of failures and sins.
    Logan’s eyes bored into her back. Amy hurried up the hill, thighs burning. Thunder’s painful cries lingered on the air, hovering around her and haunting the path to the main house.

Chapter Three
    â€œHold on to your heart, girl.”
    Amy whispered the words and pressed her fingertips to the cold metal of Logan’s truck. By the time she’d made her way back from the stables, the sun had disappeared and night had settled in. The full moon and stars cast a hazy glow over the surrounding fields, lengthening the shadows stretching from the fences and barn.
    She grazed her throbbing knuckles over the ring hidden beneath her collar and grimaced, recalling the band on Logan’s hand. Her chest tightened. She shook her head, reached into the bed of Logan’s truck and hefted out one of her black bags.
    â€œHere.” Logan’s chest brushed her back. He reached around her for the bag, his fingers brushing hers. “Let me.”
    â€œI’ve got it.”
    Amy hoisted the bag and leaned over to retrieve the second one. Logan scooped it up first. He flicked the cuff of his flannel shirt back and examined the glowing hands of his wristwatch.
    â€œIt’s almost six,” he said. “We better get a move on.”
    He led the way up the drive toward the main house, the strong line of his back and lean jean-clad hips moving with confidence. Amy’s belly fluttered. She tore her eyes away and surveyed the entrance to the main house which was bathed in the soft glow of the porch lights.
    Massive mahogany doors were adorned with lush green wreaths and red ribbons. The colorful cheer extended beyond the wreaths to the crimson ribbon wrapped around the large columns. Poinsettia blooms nestled in the nooks and crannies of the railing lining the porch and the warm glow emanating from inside the house enhanced the twinkling of the white lights draping the posts and eaves.
    Christmas .