Ram Remy (Providence Family Ties 4)

And now that I was showing him around the ranch, he was failing the ultimate test.

“So, why do you have a stud ranch? Why not let them do what wild animals do?” he asked as I showed him around the stable.

Fortunately, he had to be up early for his job as an online programmer for a company in Australia, so dinner hadn’t been drawn out to death. Unfortunately, he had a billion questions about the ranch, all of which made it sound like a sleazy place instead of what it really was. This was when the side of him I didn’t like and which was making me grit my teeth made itself known.

“These breeds can be overbred because of their value and DNA,” I began, feeling my heart sink into my vagina at the prospect of him not understanding what I was going to tell him.

“What Marcus set out to do was to help protect them, but also to stop inbreeding. About fifteen years ago, do you remember a stud ranch where they constantly bred horses and sold the foals to people who didn’t know better being on the news? The horses had all sorts of health problems, and it was heartbreaking to see the effect it had on the mares.”

When he just stared at me blankly, I blew out a breath. “Okay, that kind of thing isn’t unheard of, but when people like that get their hands on these breeds, they overbreed them. It’s kind of cruel.”

“Is it like puppy farms?”

“Yes! Exactly like that. Here, the horses are more of a conservation project. Sure, their…” my mouth opened and closed as I thought of a word to use, but the only thing that hit me was what came out, “goo is sold, too, but only after DNA tests are done first.”

“That sounds like abuse. Basically, you keep them here to breed them with whoever has enough money or the ‘elite’ mare you think is worthy. That’s classist and just a way for you to make more cash.”

Brodie’s cuteness dropped off the scales.

Tilting my head to the side, I studied him.

“You just mentioned puppy farms. Do you know the amount of damage that can be done to a bitch breeding her every season? The number of deformities the puppies have because of it? The shitty conditions they’re kept in, just so they earn the breeders money? And then there are the problems that can come about as a result of mixing breeds that technically shouldn’t be mixed.”

When he just rolled his eyes, I shrugged. “I can’t change your mind, Brodie, but it’s not that different for horses. Yes, their ability to breed with other types of horses isn’t that much of an issue, but people take it too far. They also sometimes assume we won’t know the stud is related to the potential mare, that’s why we do DNA checks.”

Something in everything I’d said must have sunk in because he finally nodded. “I just hate the idea of them being cooped up in a stable while they wait for their number to get called.”

Pulling him out of the doors, I pointed at the acres of land around us.

“Does this look like they have no space? From the second we wake up until around an hour ago, they’re out here, doing their thing. Their stalls are also over twice the size of the ones in a standard stable. We have a strict limit on the amount of breeding they can do every year, meaning that a standard horse sees way more action than they do.”

“Why do people want those breeds so much? They just look like normal horses to me.”

This question I loved. It was one we got all the time, meaning I got to geek out on how incredible our horses were.

“Speed, endurance, power, beauty, dressage, and racing skills. You name it, they all have something that consistently wins awards in the industry and can make people a lot of money.”

Brodie looked bored by this information, but he still opened his mouth to ask another question just as my phone rang before he could get it out.

Knowing it could be my agent or one of the hands with a problem, I apologized. “Sorry, I just need to answer this. It could be an emergency.”

I wasn’t wrong—it was an emergency. Just not the kind I expected it to be.

THREE

SANTANA

It wasn’t until I pulled into a space in front of the hospital that I remembered Brodie. I’d answered the call and heard what the nurse was saying and had run to where I’d left my truck when I’d met him earlier, totally forgetting about him altogether. I’d have to send him a text later, or maybe I should just delete his number altogether? The latter was the more appealing option.

Slamming the door of my truck shut behind me, I hit the fob to lock the doors with way more force than was necessary. “I’m such a loser.”