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Wayne was going about his duties like always, letting the normal routine take away some of the stress that had been piling on him lately. He’d been short and snappish with most of the members of the pack, and so he distanced himself accordingly, dreaming of the day that he and Dixie-May would depart for their little trip. Until then, going through the horse’s favorite section of pasture with a wheelbarrow kept his mind focused on one thing rather than letting it wander over many of the reasons he was angry lately.

He stopped, letting go of the handles, and grabbed the shovel he’d balanced across it. He scooped up a pile of dung and tossed it into the wheelbarrow, too used to the odor to care. This needed to be done, especially in this section of field, to keep wormy parasites from breeding and the grass from dying. He shoveled the last of it when a nudge at his back made him turn and smirk.

Fern had not been far from his side all day. He shouldn’t have encouraged her bothering him during his other work, but one look at her scarred legs and he knew he couldn’t deny her. After the black she-wolf had attacked, she’d been more skittish than usual, her sweetness holding almost desperation behind it. While others in the herd could learn to stand ground and fight with some training, the large chestnut mare never had been a warhorse.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slice of carrot. He’d found it and other crops growing wild in the fields beyond the territory, and the horses seemed to like them well enough. Palm up and flat, he let her nibble from his hand before she pulled back suddenly, head lifted and ears swiveling. He followed her gaze and allowed a smile to lighten his face as he saw his charge—two-legged down, awkward in adolescence but formidable and growing more each day.

“Howdy, Adelle,” Wayne greeted customarily, patting the horse’s neck.

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Somehow, the dusty-colored mongrel was relieved to see the girl look so bright and happy and strong on two legs. He hadn’t been the best mentor for her, remaining awkward and hardly social even when they had one of their few lessons, but he had tried to be there if she needed a playmate when she was young and an ear as she grew older and older. She was a teenager now, and he was somewhat amused to realize that she wasn’t all that much younger than him. It was hard to remember that he had only just turned two years old.

Wayne laughed as the golden teen vaulted over a fence that wound through the otherwise free-range pasture. She was clumsy but determined, jogging toward him and announcing her shift. He nodded in agreement, his cheeks crinkling with his smile; as grouchy as he’d been lately, Adelle was one of the few who could brighten his day no matter what. At least he’d been right in that—he was never harsh to her even in one of his dark moods, although sometimes he was strained and tired.

Brown eyes watched warily as she stroked the mare’s neck, but Fern only reciprocated with a gentle nibble of the girl’s hair; she recognized the smell of the pack well enough and knew it was safe.

The cowboy was caught off guard when the teenager embraced him, but after a moment he wrapped his strong arms around her awkwardly. “Whatcha been up to in your new form?” he asked lightly, mussing her hair as he drew back. Was it really not that many months ago that they explored the waterfalls? Time flew, and it was a bit overwhelming. He cleared his throat and made sure the shovel wouldn’t fall over, brushing some dirt off his fur.

“Suppose I’m obligated to teach ya to ride,” he added warmly. Finally, she was approaching the age where his lessons would be useful. He might never be a true warrior, but learning how to ride horseback was an important part of Casa di Cavalieri’s culture as well.

Ruffling her short hair one last time before the girl pulled away, Wayne smiled. He knew he would have to get used to this, but it would be easier now that Adelle was slightly more mature. Dealing with puppies never had been his strong suit, especially since he’d been wary of her grandfather the entire time. The language barrier had caused some issues as well (especially with his accent), but more time with the predominately English-speaking pack would help that.

The young warrior gladly listed off everything she’d done in her new form, and the Labrador cross chuckled before looking at her gloves. They really did look like they would pack a punch. “Remind me to never give ya a reason to hit me,” he said jokingly, touching the metal knuckles. Maybe he needed a pair of these, since he was so clumsy in fights and could do little more than brawl if he wasn’t in his vicious secui form.

Her icy blue eyes flicked to the horses eagerly, and he chuckled. “How ’bout this,” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. “We’ll walk to the barn to get tack first—saddle an’ bridle an’ whatnot.” He gestured vaguely to Fern’s back and head in case she didn’t understand the word. “Then you can ride her.” He patted the chestnut mare on the shoulder. “She’s big enough for ya,” he added, grinning slightly.

That said, he offered her the shovel to carry and gripped the handles of the dung-filled wheelbarrow. As he walked, the big horse followed placidly.