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HER DADDIES’ SAVING GRACE

LAYLAH ROBERTS
Laylah Roberts.
Her Daddies’ Saving Grace.
© 2021, Laylah Roberts
[email protected]
laylahroberts.com
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal
Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part
of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without
express written permission from the author / publisher.
Cover Design by: Allycat’s Creations.
Photographer: Wander Aguiar
Editing: Celeste Jones.

Created with Vellum

 CO NTENTS
Let’s keep in touch!
Books by Laylah Roberts
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
Dirty Daddies Anthology
 LET’ S KEEP IN TO UCH!

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BO O KS BY LAYLAH RO BERTS
Doms of Decadence
Just for You, Sir
Forever Yours, Sir
For the Love of Sir
Sinfully Yours, Sir
Make me, Sir
A Taste of Sir
To Save Sir
Sir’s Redemption
Reveal Me, Sir
Montana Daddies
Daddy Bear
Daddy’s Little Darling
Daddy’s Naughty Darling Novella
Daddy’s Sweet Girl
Daddy’s Lost Love
A Montana Daddies Christmas
Daring Daddy
Warrior Daddy
Daddy’s Angel
Heal Me, Daddy
Daddy in Cowboy Boots
A Little Christmas Cheer
Sheriff Daddy
Her Daddies’ Saving Grace
MC Daddies
 Motorcycle Daddy
Hero Daddy
Protector Daddy
Untamed Daddy
Her Daddy’s Jewel
Fierce Daddy (coming September 2021)
Harem of Daddies
Ruled by her Daddies
Claimed by her Daddies
Stolen by her Daddies (coming 2022)
Haven, Texas Series
Lila’s Loves
Laken’s Surrender
Saving Savannah
Molly’s Man
Saxon’s Soul
Mastered by Malone
How West was Won
Cole’s Mistake
Jardin’s Gamble
Romanced by the Malones
Twice the Malone
Men of Orion
Worlds Apart
Cavan Gang
Rectify
Redemption
Redemption Valley
 Audra’s Awakening
Old-Fashioned Series
An Old-Fashioned Man
Two Old-Fashioned Men
Her Old-Fashioned Husband
Her Old-Fashioned Boss
His Old-Fashioned Love
An Old-Fashioned Christmas
Bad Boys of Wildeside
Wilde
Sinclair
Luke
 1

“M issy, would you like some tea? No? Well, tough. You’re getting some. Now, don’t give me that
face. If you’re invited to a tea party, then you should drink what you’re offered, not turn up
your nose like some fuss pot.”
Juliet poured tea into one of her delicate cups. They’d been in Reuben’s family for a long time, so
she had to be very careful.
“Angelique, we’re not having the cream cake yet. You have to eat a sandwich first. You’re so
naughty.” She waggled her finger at the doll.
The ringing of her phone jolted her and she splashed hot tea across her hand.
She stared down at the red patch on her hand. She should probably put her hand under some cool
water. But the pain felt almost cleansing. It cleared her mind and helped her think better.
You’re a weirdo.
Wolf howls continued to fill the room. She set the teapot down carefully and ran to get her phone
from where she’d set it on the small table by the couch. Reuben had bought her several cell phone
holders to place throughout the house so there was less chance of her losing her phone.
Reuben tended to worry about those things. She loved the holders. The one in this room was a
sloth and it always made her smile.
She picked up the phone and saw it was a video call.
“Hey, big brother,” she greeted him cheerfully.
He didn’t smile back but she didn’t take offense. Reuben rarely smiled. He worked too hard. If he
wasn’t working, then he was fussing over her. It wasn’t healthy. But she knew better than to try and
tell him that.
Reuben didn’t listen well. Plus, he thought it was his job to take care of her, not vice versa.
Stubborn man. She adored him, but sometimes she also wanted to shake him.
 “Mini,” he said on a sigh.
“You look tired. Aren’t you sleeping?” His dark hair was up on end and there were bags under his
eyes. She’d never seen him so rumpled and stressed.
“Are you in your playroom?” he asked instead of answering her.
She sighed. She knew that she was partly to blame for him not sharing any of his worries with her.
She’d always be his baby sister. The person he had to protect and coddle. He tended to treat her like
she was too young or delicate to burden with his concerns. It probably didn’t help that she was a
Little.
“Yeah. We’re having a tea party.”
“Missy and Angelique being naughty?”
“Like always,” she replied. “Missy won’t drink her tea, and Angelique wants to eat all the cream
cake and none of the sandwiches.”
She glanced down at her hand again. If he saw the injury, he’d freak. Especially as it was starting
to blister. Not a good sign.
“And are you eating the sandwiches and cream cake?” he asked in a low voice.
Inwardly, she sighed. Being thousands of miles apart didn’t stop him from fussing over her or
bossing her around.
Then again, she’d never told him to stop. The only time she’d ever gone against him was when
he’d wanted her to move to Boston to live with him. Wishingbone was her home. Her safe place. She
couldn’t leave. The anxiety attack she’d had at the idea of moving had been enough to convince him.
Of course, she’d had to give in to all his stipulations and rules, but he needed to feel like he was
keeping her safe. And whatever he needed, she’d give him.
She’d give Reuben everything if she could.
“I’m fine.”
“I am well aware that’s not an answer, Mini,” he replied, glaring at her through the phone.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” She’d learned the art of deflection well.
“Actually, no.”
Okay, that shocked her. He never admitted to any sort of weakness. At least, not to her.
“What is it? What’s wrong? Are you ill? Is it cancer? Your heart? I’ll get the first flight out there.”
Her heart raced with panic. Her fear of leaving Wishingbone was nothing against her fear of losing
him. She couldn’t live without him.
“Mini, I’m not ill.”
How would she get to the airport? What did she need to take? She’d never booked an airline
ticket before, but it couldn’t be too hard, right?
“You never say you’re not all right. It’s the apocalypse. The zombies are coming.” Zombies were
terrifying. Maybe she should get a gun. Did bullets work on zombies?
Reuben narrowed his gaze at her. “Have you been watching zombie movies again?”
“What makes you ask that?” She made her eyes go wide.
Look innocent. Look sweet.
“Juliet Susanne,” he said sternly. “What did I warn you about watching those movies?”
“That most rely on shock value to garner interest.”
“Well, yes, but I was actually talking about the fact that the last time you watched one, you didn’t
sleep for three days.”
Yeah, well. She hadn’t slept for four days after the one she watched last week.
But she just couldn’t stop watching them. It was a strange addiction.
“Sorry,” she told him, knowing that was the quickest way to get out of a scolding.
He worked his jaw, his tension palpable through the phone.
“Reuben? What is it?” He was really starting to scare her.
“I’ve run into a bit of trouble here.”
Did that mean he was coming home? Back to Wishingbone? Excitement filled her. It had been ages
since he’d come to visit. He’d kind of pissed off a few people in town, but Reuben was like blue
cheese, you loved him or hated him. Most people just misunderstood him. He was simply, um,
passionate.
“You’re coming home?”
He ran a hand over his face. “I wish I could, Mini.”
Mini was short for Mini-me because when she was a child, she’d always tried to imitate him.
“Oh.” She tried not to look too disappointed.
“I’m not sure anyone would appreciate me coming to visit.”
“Of course, they would.”
 Liar.
Last time he was here, he’d threatened no less than four different people with lawsuits. He’d also
bought the local hardware store and fired half the staff.
But everything he did was to protect her.
The manager of the hardware store was a complete dick. He’d been upset because she wouldn’t
go on a date with him and he’d spread awful rumors about her. Somehow, Reuben heard about it, and
he’d taken care of that asshole.
“Mini, I’ve been working on a case that has brought some bad attention.”
“From who?”
Her heart started to race. Shoot. She was going to give herself a heart attack at this rate. Bad
attention? What did that mean?
“From one of the leading crime syndicates in the city.”
“Oh God. Are they going to hurt you? You can’t let them hurt you.” Visions of him being tortured,
waterboarded, his fingers chopped off filled her head. “I like your fingers!”
Nothing could happen to him.
“Of course, I won’t allow that,” he said arrogantly. That voice soothed her. It told her that he had
everything under control. “I like my fingers too. Have you been watching mob movies?”
It was a sickness. She couldn’t seem to stop. No matter how many nightmares these movies gave
her, she just had to keep watching them.
“Juliet,” he said sternly.
“I saw one a long time ago,” she lied. A small lie wouldn’t matter, right? “What happened? Why
are they after you?”
“I failed to successfully defend one of their guys.”
What? Reuben never failed . . . unless . . .
“What did he do?”
“Abused a child.”
Ahh. That explained it. Reuben never defended anyone on charges of abuse.
“Why’d you take the case?”
“Because that wasn’t actually one of the things he was charged with.” His jaw worked. “But we
had a meeting at his house, and there was this little boy . . .”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“I should have backed off then, but this asshole was adamant he wanted me. And I figured if he
went away then that little boy was safe for a while.”
This was a side of him she knew no one saw but her. Most people were terrified of him. For good
reason. He had power. Money. Influence. He had information on a lot of important people. Reuben
could move mountains. And he would. For her.
Which made her wonder why he was so worried.
“So, this criminal group is now angry? Don’t you have something on them to make them back
down?”
He sighed. “I’ve got stuff, but there’s a lot of players to deal with, and it’s going to take me longer
than I anticipated to get things moving, and I need to make sure you’re protected.”
“You think they’ll come for me?” She and Reuben had different last names for just this reason.
While he’d paid for this house and everything in it, it had all been done through a trust he’d set up for
her.
But plenty of people still knew that she was his sister.
“I’m not taking any risks, okay?” he said to her.
Panic filled her. “I don’t like that you’re in danger.”
Nothing could happen to him. He was her anchor.
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” he soothed, clearly seeing her panic.
“I . . . I . . .” She started to pace, excess energy coursing through her body. She was dressed in a
long, black dress that completely hid her body. It swished around her bare feet.
“Mini, it will all be all right.”
“What do you want me to do?” she asked. “Come to you?” Then she could watch over him, make
sure he was all right. Yes, perhaps that was the best idea. She was definitely going to need a gun,
though.
“I wish you could, but it will be safer for you to stay away from me. I’ve hired a security firm to
guard you.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Mini,” he said in a firmer voice.
 “No. No strangers.” Her fingers started tingling, indicating a panic attack. When she had a panic
attack, she tended to go into her own head, the panic eating her from the inside out.
“Juliet, there’s no one in Wishingbone who can do this.”
“Of course, there is. There’s JSI.”
“I’ve already asked them. Kent hasn’t got anyone free for another month. He offered to let you
come to the ranch, though. You’d be protected there.”
Move out of her home. No . . . she couldn’t.
“Mini, it’s okay. Look at me. Look into my eyes.” His voice was filled with command. She stared
down at him. “Either you stay in your house, with strangers as guards, or move to the ranch. I’m sorry
I can’t offer anything else.”
There was genuine sadness in his face. He knew how hard this was on her. And he had enough
going on. She couldn’t add to his worries.
She was being selfish.
“JSI is already monitoring my cameras.” Reuben had arranged that. Even though Kent didn’t like
him much, he did like Juliet.
“They’ll continue to do so,” he told her. “But you need someone in the house with you.”
Oh God. She didn’t want that.
“Loki,” she managed to get out, her lips growing numb.
“Loki is a nutcase.”
She winced. She hated when Reuben talked about Loki like that.
“He’s not. He has PTSD.”
“And that PTSD causes him to behave erratically, and you know it.” Reuben sighed. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t mean to be harsh. I know he’s your friend. But he isn’t reliable. And how fair would it be to put
him in a possibly dangerous situation when he has PTSD?”
Oh, that wouldn’t be fair at all. What was she thinking? What a terrible friend she was.
“You’re right.” The world around her was growing dark. She could barely focus on his words.
“Do they really have to be in the house?”
“Mini, you know I wouldn’t do this unless it was necessary.”
Her free hand twisted in the long skirt of her dress.
 “It’s only for a short time. And I’ll make sure that they know they’re to bother you as little as
possible. But I need your promise that you’ll do what they say. That you’ll let them in. Please, Mini?”
He was nearly begging. His desperation was clear. That, more than anything else, had her
nodding.
She wouldn’t be a burden to him. Well, no more than she already was.
“I’ll be all right.”
“I wouldn’t allow you to be anything else.”
One breath. Two.
“I’ll get this sorted as quick as possible, all right?”
She nodded, unable to speak. Her hand gripped the phone so tight that her fingers hurt.
“Mini, I need you to talk. I need you to be okay. You know what happens if you’re not.”
He’d lose it. She knew he would. And when he lost it, well, any number of things could happen.
“If you can’t do it, then I’m coming out there, grabbing you, and we’ll head to the island.”
Shit. Get it together, Juliet.
She loved the island. But she couldn’t live there permanently.
People thought their relationship was odd. But it was a product of the way they’d grown up.
They’d both developed ways to deal with what happened. And Reuben’s way of coping was to guard
her with a zealousness that would infuriate other women.
She wasn’t other women, though. She needed him as much as he needed her.
“I’m fine,” she told him. “I just want you to be safe.”
Relief filled his face. “I will be. I can deal with these assholes easier if I’m not worrying over
you.”
“You always worry over me,” she teased. “It’s what’s given you those gray hairs and crow’s
feet.”
He barked out a laugh, running his hand through his dark hair, which didn’t have a single gray
strand. “You’re the one thing in my life which doesn’t give me gray hairs.” A phone rang. He frowned.
“I have to go. I don’t like leaving you like this.”
“I’m fine. You go deal with life. I’ve got a tea party to get to.”
He studied her carefully. “I want you to have a nap today, okay? You look tired.”
 “I will.” It was easier just to agree.
“Love you, Mini.”
“Love you, Big Bad Wolf.”
He rolled his eyes at her nickname for him. But when he ended the call, he was looking less
stressed, which is what she wanted. Knowing a full-blown panic attack wasn’t far away, she grabbed
her weighted blanket from the chest under the window. Then she moved into the small space between
the couch and the wall.
This was the only way to keep the panic attack from completely taking over. The weighted blanket
was tucked around her. She buried her face into her knees and just tried to breathe.
Just breathe.

DAMN REUBEN ANYWAY.

What kind of message was, ‘go check on Juliet’?

That was it. Nothing else. What the fuck? Xavier had tried calling him, but the asshole hadn’t
answered.
He’d considered telling Reuben where to stick his order. He seemed to think Xavier lived to be at
his command.
But now he was worried about Juliet. She was nothing like her brother. She was sweet, kind, and
delicate.
He had the code to the gate, so he let himself in, driving up to the front of the castle-like house that
Reuben had built for Juliet. This place was nearly a fortress. Cameras and alarms everywhere.
Getting out, he climbed the stairs and knocked.
Nothing.
He rang the doorbell.
Still nothing.
Reuben had said she was home. Xavier stepped back then walked around to check the garage.
There sat the car she never drove, having lost her confidence after a few accidents. But her bike was
still there.
He was kind of surprised that Reuben hadn’t gotten her a driver. Riding her bike everywhere
wasn’t exactly safe. He hated when he saw her riding that bike. If only he had the right to insist she
didn’t ride it.
But you don’t.
And his insistence would come with a red ass if she disobeyed. Something he was certain would
terrify her.
Moving back to the front door, he rang the bell again.
He had the code for the house alarm too. Using it, he entered the house and reset the alarm.
“Twink? You in here?”
Nothing.
Fuck. What if she’d hurt herself? He moved through the house, going to the one place he knew she
would be if she was scared or needed reassurance. He climbed the stairs up to the third floor. This
entire floor was her private space. The second floor was for guests. Not that she ever had any other
than her brother.
He knocked on the closed door to the playroom.
Nothing.
Opening the door, he stepped in. Yep, he was aware it was a complete invasion of privacy, but
he’d come this far, and he was starting to get really worried. The playroom was enormous. Easily the
size of four standard bedrooms put together. There was a door off it that led to her bedroom and
bathroom.
He glanced around the airy space. There were storage drawers that were all painted in different
colors. A huge mural had been painted on one wall of an underwater scene, complete with mermaids.
In the middle of the room was a round table that had been set up with a tea party. The dolls
already in their places.
“Twink,” he called out.
A small whimper came from next to the sofa. He glanced over, not seeing anything at first. Then he
saw a pair of feet peeking out.
Aw. Fuck.
His heart broke as he moved closer and saw her crouched in there, her face hidden in her knees, a
blanket around her.
“Juliet,” he whispered. He sat in front of her but didn’t reach for her. “Look at me.”
Nothing.
 “Baby, please. You’re killing me.”
Nothing. Fuck. What the hell had Reuben done to make her react like this?
He wasn’t sure whether to touch her or not. To speak to her until she acknowledged him or just sit
here.
If this was any other Little . . .
Yeah, he’d have already taken charge. But this was Juliet. His ex-best friend’s little sister.
Getting out his phone, he sent a text to Reuben.

XAVIER: What happened to her? What did you do?

Asshole: What’s wrong? Fuck. I can’t call right now. Just make sure she’s all right.
Xavier: Tell me what’s going on.

NOTHING .
He sighed. “Twink?” Still nothing. Maybe he’d have to go with his gut then. He took a deep breath
and hoped that this didn’t wreck the bond they had.
“Juliet,” he said sternly. “I want you to look at me.”
Well. That worked. Not.
“I’m going to touch you now. If you don’t want that, it’s time to speak up.”
Nothing.
Fuck it. Well, now he had to follow through, didn’t he?
He wasn’t sure who this would be harder on. Reaching over, giving her plenty of time to protest,
he lifted her onto his lap.
Yeah, having her ass pressed against his dick? Definitely harder for him.
She was stiff as a board and he sighed. Shit.
He tugged at the blanket around her. It was black. What was with her love of black? If she was his
...
Easy.
The blanket seemed to be weighted, which made sense as it should be good for her anxiety.
Grabbing her right hand, he winced at how cold it was. It shouldn’t be, if anything, it was overly
warm in here. But her hand was freezing. He moved his fingers to her pulse.
Too fast.
“Twink, hold onto me. Hold my shirt.” He knew that gave her comfort.
For a moment, he didn’t think she would react. Then her hand twisted in the front of his shirt,
holding on tight.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “I’m going to stand now and sit on the sofa.”
No reaction, but once he was on the sofa, she turned towards him, burying her face in his chest.
Okay, he hadn’t expected that. He held his arms away from her, then realized how ridiculous he
was being. She needed to be touched.
“Do you need my skin, baby?”
She nodded. He undid the first few buttons of his shirt and her cool cheek touched his chest.
Talk about torture.
Easy. Don’t react.
“Hear my heartbeat?”
Another nod.
“Then you know you’re not alone, right?”
Another nod.
But he wasn’t putting up with that.
“I’m going to need you to use words, Twink.”
Her breath hit his chest. Fuck. Think about something unsexy. Herpes. Warts. Reuben naked.
Yep. That did the job. Until Juliet shifted in his lap, wrapping herself around him like a baby
monkey climbing to its mama.
“What’s going on?” he asked her.
“Panic attack,” she said quietly. Juliet only spoke to people she knew well and trusted. And if
there were other people around, she’d only whisper.
“Okay, baby. Want to tell me why?” The need to demand that she tell him was on the tip of his
tongue, pressing its way free.
Easy.
She shook her head and sniffled. So, he ran his hand up and down her back until she settled into
him, her body growing heavier.
“You need a nap.” He was pretty sure that she didn’t get enough sleep, and he hated how pale she
was. But getting her to come to him or another doctor for a check-up was impossible. Standing, he
placed one hand under her ass, holding her to his chest.
Fuck, she was far too light.
This girl needed a keeper.
But not you, dickhead.
Her enormous bed took up one corner. It was only set about half a foot off the floor. It had a lacy
black duvet cover on it. Around all four sides was a railing like you might find on a baby’s cot. There
was a small opening where she could climb in and out.
Leaning over the railing, he gently put her on her side on the mattress. Then he arranged the
weighted blanket over her.
What now? He’d never put her down to nap before. What did she need? He searched through her
drawers, coming across her panties.
Standing, he looked around as though searching for some sort of sign. A sucking noise had him
turning back to the bed to find she was already asleep, a pacifier in her mouth which was attached to
a soft-looking blanket. Okay, that must have been tucked under the pillow. Both of her hands were
under the weighted blanket, so at least they’d be warm.
He quickly put her panties away because he really didn’t want her to wake up and see him holding
her panties like a creeper.
Grabbing a bottle of water out of the small fridge in the playroom, he walked back into the
bedroom with it, setting it down next to the bed.
She looked so cute lying there. He wanted to just sit here and watch her.
But that was kind of creepy.
His phone buzzed and he drew it out. Christ.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. If he didn’t answer, it would make things worse. She’d
keep calling and calling.
Moving out of the bedroom, he shut the door and walked over to the window before answering.
“Hello, mother.”
“Xavier. It took you long enough to answer. I thought I was going to be sent to your voicemail.
You know I don’t like leaving messages.”
Right. He knew. Because she told him often enough.
“My apologies.”
“I’m calling because I want you to come visit.”
Of course she did.
“I’m sorry, Mother. I’m very busy at work.” He actually had a few days off, but he didn’t intend to
tell her that. He thought he might spend some time with Juliet, since she obviously wasn’t doing well.
“I’m sure someone could take your shift for you. It isn’t like much ever happens in that sleepy
hospital. You should never have left your job at Massachusetts General. Think about how far ahead in
your career you could be if you’d stayed.”
He pinched the top of his nose.
“You know why I left.”
“Pfft, ridiculous. That girl’s death had nothing to do with you. And if you had to leave, why didn’t
you take the job your father offered you at New York-Presbyterian?”
Her death had nothing to do with him? It had everything to do with him. The guilt still ate away at
him.
“Father worked at Wishingbone hospital for several years,” he couldn’t help but point out.
“He was the CEO, Xavier. Not a regular old doctor.”
Right.
“And it was dreadful, living in that horrid little town. The only reason we didn’t move sooner is
because of your schooling. Despite it being such a strange place, the quality of the education was
impressive.”
High praise from Marigold Marson.
“Mother, I’m sorry but I really don’t have time to come home.” Not that he actually considered the
apartment they owned in Manhattan to be home.
Home was here, in Wishingbone. With his friends.
“Xavier, I think you best come see me.”
Her tone of voice had him freezing. She sounded almost distressed.
“What’s wrong?”
 “I’ve found a lump, Xavier.”
“A lump? In your breast?”
“Xavier!” she said in a shocked voice.
He ran his hand over his face tiredly. “Mother, I’m a doctor.”
“Yes, but you’re also my son. There’s no need to talk about breasts in front of me.”
Lord, give him strength.
“What has your doctor said about the lump?” he asked urgently. “Have they done a biopsy?”
“I’m too scared to go,” his mother whispered.
“Mother, you have to go.”
“But they’ll insist on examining me.”
“Mother, please. Get father to take you. To examine you. He’s a doctor.”
“But he’s not my doctor.”
“Then please go to your doctor,” he pleaded.
“Will you come home, Xavier? To take me? Please?”
He let out a deep breath. Then he glanced back at the doorway leading to the bedroom. He didn’t
want to leave Juliet.
But if his mother had cancer . . .
“Make the doctor’s appointment for Monday. I’ll get a flight out when I can.” His phone started
buzzing in his ear with another incoming call.
“Good. I knew you would come. I will see you then.”
He blinked as she abruptly ended the call. But it was just as well since he saw he’d missed a call
from the hospital.
After checking in to find one of his patients wasn’t doing well, he checked on Juliet one last time.
He brushed his fingers down her cheek. He hated leaving her like this, but knew she would
understand. He sent her a quick text to explain
Then before he could convince himself to linger longer, he left.
 2

B rick checked his navigation system to see how far away they were. Fifteen minutes. Perfect.
They’d been on the road for hours, setting out from Denver early. But they’d be right on time. He
hated to be late for anything. His ex-wife had been the opposite. She’d been an hour late to their
wedding. Perhaps he should have taken that as an omen.
“Earth to Brick, what’s going on with you, man?” Sterling asked in concern.
“He daydreaming again?” Elias asked through the Bluetooth system. He was in the truck behind
them.
Both men were his best friends. They’d been in the marines together. And when he’d called and
told them the mess Linda had left him in, they’d dropped everything to come help him.
“He’s got that line between his eyebrows which means he’s thinking of—”
“Linda,” Elias ended on a sigh. “Brick, man, you got to get her out of your head. You can’t give
her any more of your time.”
His hands tightened around the steering wheel and his teeth ground together. He knew that he had
to stop thinking about Linda. And Mike. The bastard.
“I know,” he said. “But it’s hard to let it go when she cost me everything.”
His house. His business. His credit rating. His reputation.
The only reason he’d managed to secure this job was because he was available on short notice.
The client, Reuben Jones, needed someone to guard his sister for the indefinite future.
It likely wouldn’t have been a job he’d have touched before he’d lost everything. The client was
demanding. But his money was good. And since Brick was down to his last five hundred dollars,
well, he was desperate. This job was his lifeline.
His friends were right, he had to get his mind back in the game.
“Sorry, you’re right,” he agreed, taking a right turn. “Have I thanked you guys again for helping
me?”
The client wanted at least two bodyguards on site. One guarding his sister, the other patrolling the
grounds and watching the cameras and alarms, even though there was an outside company monitoring
the cameras and alarms.
Sterling scrolled through his phone. “Have you guys read the list of instructions and rules this guy
has sent through for dealing with his sister?”
“He only sent them after I signed the contract, and then I was too busy packing everything up and
getting ready,” Brick said. “Why?”
“Did you know JSI put in her current security system?” Sterling commented. “Why didn’t he go to
them? They’re monitoring her security anyway.”
“Asked him about that,” Brick admitted. And he’d been sweating bullets the entire time that Jones
might turn around and go to JSI. “They didn’t have anyone free, apparently. They’re still monitoring
the system, though. He said we can put in our system on top of theirs if we want. He also said
something about Kent Jensen being a prick.”
“Really?” Elias asked. “I’ve heard of Kent Jensen. Got a reputation as a fair man. Lots of the guys
I was enlisted with talked about getting a job with him when they got out.”
“I wouldn’t put much stock in our client’s opinions,” Brick admitted as he turned into a quiet
street. There didn’t seem to be many houses out here. Just a lot of fucking trees. “I did a background
check on him. He’s got a reputation for being a shark. Ruthless and cunning.”
“Yeah, but he’s also loaded, I’m guessing,” Elias said, looking around him. “As long as he pays
the bills, do you really care?”
Once, he would have. But he couldn’t pick and choose his jobs anymore.
“And demanding,” Sterling said. “Listen to this stuff he sent through. No touching her without
permission unless absolutely necessary. No going up to the third floor unless she’s in danger. She
doesn’t talk.”
“What?” Brick asked. “How the hell are we going to communicate with her?”
“Wasn’t that something he should have told us first?” Elias asked.
Brick pulled into a driveway in front of a vast wrought-iron gate. A camera turned towards his
truck. He knew there was likely another camera in a hidden position. The house wasn’t visible from
here. But just the gate held the promise of money.
 “He should have,” Brick agreed. Leaning back in the seat, he closed his eyes for a moment. He
already had a headache.
“There’s more,” Sterling said as Elias pulled up behind them. “No changing her routine. We
cannot talk to her with anything other than respect. When she gets nervous, she might grab hold of our
clothing and we should allow her to do that. And if she goes still and cold, she could be having a
panic attack. There’s a number of a guy called Xavier to call in case of emergency.”
“Wonder what’s going on,” Elias said. “She sounds—”
“Crazy,” he barked.
“Brick,” Sterling warned. “Just because Linda was a bitch doesn’t mean all women are.”
He closed his eyes and nodded. “Sorry. High-maintenance.”
“Sounds to me like she has some problems,” Elias said. “Bad anxiety.”
All three of them were Dominants, and their protective instincts were strong.
“She works four days a week at the local library and that she uses a bicycle to get around,”
Sterling stated.
“That’s out,” Brick stated.
“Goes to a bar quiz night every Thursday,” Sterling added.
“Also out.”
“We’re not supposed to disrupt her schedule unless necessary,” Elias reminded him.
And he was being a jerk for the sake of it. Yeah, he knew that. But he would do whatever was
necessary to keep this woman safe. This job could salvage his business. Losing it wasn’t an option.
Winding down the window, he reached out to press the button on the communication system.
Elias got out of his truck and walked over to his open window. “This place is in the middle of
nowhere.”
Brick nodded. He didn’t like all the trees surrounding the place. Too easy for someone to sneak
close. But if there were any blind spots in JSI’s security system, he knew he could plug them.
“Maybe if you tried smiling instead of scowling, she might be inclined to let us in.” Elias raised
an eyebrow, staring at Brick. “You do remember how to smile, don’t you?”
“Fuck off,” Brick snarled.
“Maybe she went out. Forgot we were coming,” Elias said.
 Humph. Probably out getting her nails done or shopping or whatever else rich people did. Like
making a huge list of ridiculous instructions just to guard one woman. “Don’t suppose there was a
gate code on that list?”
“Nope,” Sterling said. “But her number is here. And some information about her. Juliet Jackson.
Age twenty-nine. Works at the Wishingbone Library four days a week for four hours a day.”
He was kind of surprised she worked at all.
“Five foot three. Ninety-seven pounds.”
Jesus. She was tiny. Didn’t she eat?
“Allergic to shellfish. Carries an EpiPen.”
He noted that all away as he pressed the buzzer again. Where the hell was she?
“How’re we going to do this?” Elias asked. “Take shifts?”
“Jones wanted her to have one main guard,” he replied. “Apparently, there’s a guest suite in the
pool house with two bedrooms. And then one of us can stay in the house.”
When you were rich, you could afford to be quirky and different. Yes, he had a slight hang-up
around money. Perhaps it was because he barely had two pennies to rub together. Or maybe because
he had grown up watching his mother work three jobs to get food on the table.
Shit like that made you cynical.
“Quirks we can work with,” Sterling said. “Just remember the money, man.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You can’t let her see that chip on your shoulder,” Elias warned. “It’s good money just to guard
one woman.”
And he needed it.
Frustrated, he put his finger on the buzzer again. Where was this woman?
“What’s her phone number?” he asked. “I’ll call her.”
“Might be best to text her,” Sterling suggested after rattling off the number.
He didn’t care if he had to interrupt her manicure or whatever. Jones had told him that she knew
they were coming. It was common courtesy to be here.
 3

Shehadn’t
had a headache. Her hand was throbbing from the burn. And she was really wishing that she
freaked out like that around Xavier.
For as long as she could remember, she’d had a crush on the sexy doctor. He saw her as a sister,
though.
She didn’t blame him for not being attracted to her. She wasn’t sexy. Or sane.
That seemed like something men might like. Someone who was sane. Right?
Kiesha was always saying that normal was overrated, but Juliet wasn’t so sure. Besides, while
Kiesha might be a bit crazy, she was also outgoing and fun, and she could actually talk to people.
That sort of thing helped, you know?
He’d rejected her once a long time ago when she was feeling surprisingly brave and kissed him. It
still hurt all these years later. She wouldn’t survive that rejection again.
Rubbing a hand over her face, she walked into the downstairs kitchen and opened the fridge,
grabbing the cranberry juice she poured it into a glass. Her upstairs fridge was filled with iced coffee
and water, but she had a craving for cranberry juice.
As she moved back towards the stairs, a buzzing noise frightened her.
She dropped the glass, which smashed on the ground, spilling juice everywhere. And she was
standing in the middle of it, not wearing shoes.
“Crap. Crap. Crap.”
Buzz!
Shoot. Whoever was at the gate was impatient.
“Keep your pants on, buddy,” she snapped, feeling brave because she knew they couldn’t see or
hear her. Or even get onto the property without her letting them in.
 She didn’t want to let them in. She knew it had to be the security team that Reuben hired.
Buzz!
“Big girl panties, Juliet. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know them. Reuben sent them to protect
you. They’re doing a job. That’s all. They don’t have to like you. You don’t have to like them.”
She nervously tapped her fingers against her thigh, feeling her stomach churn. She wished Xavier
had stayed. Not that she blamed him for leaving. After all, she’d fallen asleep on him. He’d had to put
her to bed.
It was embarrassing that he’d had to take care of her like that.
Her phone dinged with a text message. Shoot.
She checked the text message.

UNKNOWN NUMBER : Miss Jackson, this is Brick Sampson from Sampson Security. Your brother hired
us. We are at the gate and would appreciate you letting us in.

“THIS ISN ’ T GOING to work. His texts are so formal. What if he’s like that in real life?”
She sent a text to Kiesha.

J ULIET : Can you trust people who txt in a formal tone?

Kiesha: Nope. Serial killer. 4 sure.

YEP . That’s what Juliet thought too.

Switching to her email, she went through what Reuben had sent her.
Brenton Sampson. Forty-two. Ex-Marine. Owned his own security company. Reuben had included
a photo. He had a muscular build. Short, dark hair and tanned skin. He was also frowning. He looked
kind of grouchy and hard.
Juliet rubbed at her temples. Her headache was still pounding. Her juice was all over the floor.
There were shards of glass everywhere. And she was just standing here, doing nothing.
Her phone buzzed again with another text.

UNKNOWN NUMBER : Miss Jackson? Are you home? Are you all right?
YEAH, she was home. But whether she was all right, well . . . she guessed that depended on your
definition. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. She couldn’t stand here all day.
Stepping carefully around the mess, she moved to the panel up against the door. JSI had installed
the system, and Kent had patiently shown her how to use it. She liked Kent. He was kind and he never
rushed her.
She wished he or one of his guys could guard her. Then she wouldn’t have to put up with this
Brenton Sampson, who was not only impatient with a heavy buzzer finger, but had a scowly face and
was obviously a serial killer.
Well, perhaps that last part was still up for contention. He could just be a lover of grammar. But
the first two were definitely true.
Unfortunately, it seemed the man scowling up at the camera at the gate was almost certainly
Brenton Sampson. Or his evil twin brother.
Her phone vibrated in her hand as wolf howls filled the room.
Darn it.
She answered the call.
“Two calls in one day,” she said cheerfully. “Are you sure you’re not dying?”
There was silence on the other end. Drat.
“Let him in, Juliet.”
“So, he’s a tattletale too,” she muttered.
“Mini,” he sighed. She could feel the exhaustion in his voice and felt terrible. Here she was
playing silly games and he was literally dealing with a threat to his life. If she could spank her own
ass, she would.
She deserved a time-out at the very least. Or maybe writing some lines.
“I’m sorry, Reuben,” she told him. “I know I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”
“Excuse me?” he snapped coldly. He rarely used that tone with her. Only when she said something
he really didn’t like.
Oh. Like right now.
Good idea to anger him when he was already exhausted, worried, and in overprotective mode.
She usually handled him better than this. It was just a sign of how stressed she was.
 “What did you just say?”
“Nothing.”
“Darn right. Because if you just said you’re more trouble than you’re worth, then I know I’m not
talking to my sister. I know my sister must have been body-snatched. Because my sister would never
say such a thing. Because my sister knows her worth, doesn’t she? What’s her worth?”
“I’m more important than anything and you’d give up everything you have for me.”
The words filled her with a self-confidence she sorely lacked most of the time. When other
people failed or left her, Reuben hadn’t. He’d always had her back.
And you have to have his. Do this for him, so he doesn’t worry about you on top of everything
else.
Also, so he didn’t kidnap her and take her to the island with him. Because he was also the most
important person in her world, and if she killed him, then she’d be really upset with herself
afterward.
“I’ll let him in now. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Mini. I know I’m asking for a lot. But I just need to know you’re safe so I can do what I
need to do to eliminate the threat. All right?”
“Yep. I can do that.”
“I know you can. Because you’re smart and brave.”
“You’re a good liar. Makes sense given your job,” she teased him.
“Ha-ha, brat. You owe me some brownies for that.”
“I might even leave out the walnuts this time.”
Reuben hated walnuts but loved her chocolate brownies. So, when she was annoyed with him,
she’d make him brownies with finely cut-up walnuts in it.
He laughed. A real laugh and she bounced on her toes, pleased with herself for relieving some of
the stress in his voice.
“Listen, this guy comes with a lot of good references. He’s had some financial difficulties, which
was why he was available. I get the feeling he doesn’t think much of me, so I doubt he would have
taken the job unless he was desperate.”
She frowned, not liking the sound of that. How dare this jerk think badly of her brother? Sure,
Reuben could be a bit of a prick at times if you pissed him off. But the rest of the time, he was a teddy
bear.
Yeah, okay, even she didn’t believe the bullshit she was trying to spin.
“He looks scowly.”
“Scowly, huh?”
“Kiesha thinks he’s a serial killer.”
“Kiesha thought the new pastor at her church was a serial killer.”
“Yes, well, it turns out he was printing counterfeit money in his basement,” she told him. “So
Kiesha’s instincts were right.”
“It was play money and he was printing it off his computer.”
“So he says. Kiesha says differently.”
Reuben muttered something under his breath. She knew it would be nothing flattering about
Kiesha, but it didn’t matter. Reuben and Kiesha were oil and water, but they both loved her.
She hit the button to release the gate as he was muttering. Mr. Scowly gave the camera an even
bigger scowl.
“He’s going to give himself wrinkles,” she muttered.
“What?” Reuben asked.
“Nothing, brother. I better go, I’ve let them in the gate.”
“There are two guys with him?”
“Yep, looks like.”
“Good. He’s going to be your main point of contact. Kent said if one of his guys finishes a job
sooner than expected that he’d send someone.”
“Kent actually spoke to you?”
Reuben let out a huff of breath. “No. He’s still sulking over something that happened ages ago. He
needs to learn how to let go of a grudge. I spoke to Corbin. Who relayed the information to his
majesty.”
She rolled her eyes. She didn’t know what the issue was between Reuben and Kent. But then, if
she tried to keep track of every issue that someone in Wishingbone had with her brother, she’d never
get anything else done in her life.
“They’re here now.”
 “Okay, let Xavier do the talking. Wait. Why didn’t he let them in? I sent him over to help ease you
into this.”
“You did?”
“What? Didn’t he turn up? That bastard.”
“No, he did. But I, ahh, doesn’t matter. He left.”
“You what?” Reuben asked suspiciously.
“Fell asleep.” There was a knock at the front door. “Gotta go, they’re here.”
“I can’t believe he left you! I’ll kill him.”
“Did you tell him that you’d hired a security team and that they were on their way?” she asked
suspiciously. Because she was surprised that Xavier would have left her if that was the case.
“Well, no.”
“Right, so you just ordered him to come over here instead of asking him or telling him any of the
details.”
Buzz!
What was with this guy? Was he trying to make her headache worse?
“Maybe,” Reuben muttered. “Thought he would have stuck around for a bit longer.”
“I’ve got to go. I got this.”
She totally didn’t. But she figured it wouldn’t hurt to fake it.
“Love you, Mini.”
“Love you too, BBW.”
His sigh made her smile. Which faded as soon as she ended the call and faced the door.
Shit.
 4

“D o you think she let us in just to leave us standing on her doorstep?” Elias said with amusement.
“Maybe you should let one of us do the talking,” Sterling suggested.
“Probably a good idea,” Elias agreed. “One look at you, and she’ll likely run screaming.”
He gave them both an exasperated look. “I can handle one woman. I’ve been doing this for a
while.”
Elias held his hands up. “Think I’ll go start doing a recon of the area then.”
“I’ll see if I can find this pool house and unpack the stuff,” Sterling added.
Wait. So, they were fucking leaving him? Assholes. He sighed. Great.
The door opened before he could call them back. Standing in the doorway was a tiny slip of a
girl. She had her thick chestnut-colored hair in two braids. Her face was pale with smudges under her
eyes.
She was dressed in a black dress that covered her from her shoulders to her feet. Which he
noticed were bare. And the nails were painted a pink so bright it almost hurt his eyes to look at them.
That was surprising. And kind of cute.
She’s not cute, idiot.
It had been a long time since he’d been involved with a Little. Or even played at a club. Linda had
been a sub, but not a Little. When they’d first started dating, they’d often go to the club to play. But
after they were married, both of them had lost interest. Although, he’d come to learn that she’d simply
found someone else to play with. His accountant.
He’d been fooled by his wife, his accountant, left with nothing.
Complete and utter failure.
But he wouldn’t let this woman-girl see that. Sure, she might rouse his Daddy instincts, but that
didn’t mean anything. Maybe he was ready to move back into that scene.
His gut churned at the thought. Or maybe not.
Her fingers started tapping against the sides of her legs. A sign of agitation. And nervousness.
Because you’re not talking, you ass.
Then his gaze caught on the red, blistered patch of skin on the top of her hand.
“How’d you get that?” he snapped, reaching for her hand. And why hadn’t anyone taken care of it?
She snatched her hand out of his reach, stumbling back with a gasp. Her foot landed in something
red on the floor. She let out a cry of pain.
Fuck, was that blood?
“Where are you bleeding?” he yelled.
Her eyes widened as she wobbled, about to fall. Acting on instinct, he grabbed her, pulling her
towards him. She cried out, clasping her hands around his neck, and holding on tight. He swallowed
heavily at the feel of her body against his.
Don’t react. Don’t react.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, growing stiff. He saw the moment she realized that she was pressed against a strange
man’s body. He set her down before she could start to panic. Last thing he wanted was a hysterical,
pint-sized woman on his hands.
Oh yeah? Because you’re quite enjoying holding her in your hands at the moment.
“What did you slip on? Is that blood? Are you bleeding?” He looked her over but couldn’t see any
source for the red liquid lying on the floor.
Wait. Not blood.
Some other red liquid. Then he saw the shards of glass.
Bare feet.
Fuck.
“Did you stand on the glass?” he asked, remembering her sharp cry of pain.
She flinched, and he sucked in a deep breath. Fuck. He was messing this all up.
She’s the client. Not someone he should be snarling at. His shortness with her came from worry.
But she didn’t know that.
 Okay, he was also feeling short-tempered because he’d been made to wait at the gate, then on the
doorstep for her, and Brick wasn’t a guy who had much patience. Waiting around, doing nothing, it
wasn’t in his nature. He was a man of action.
But if he wasn’t careful, he was going to lose this job before he’d had time to earn any money.
“There’s sharp glass around and you have bare feet. That’s juice?”
She looked from the liquid to him and gave a small nod. He wondered why she couldn’t talk.
Injured vocal cords? Something else? She wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d thought she’d be
perfectly composed. Maybe cool and haughty.
This is what Elias and Sterling were warning you about. Don’t let your prejudices make you
judge her before you even know her.
“Did you stand on some glass?”
Tears filled her eyes. Fuck. The urge to take her into his arms, to hug her and hold her was so
strong that it nearly hurt trying to resist it.
Another nod.
He glanced over at her feet. One was hidden beneath her dress. Was she holding it up? Shit. How
was he going to take care of her when she wouldn’t let him touch her?
“I need to look at it.” He tried to make his voice more soothing. But the wary look she shot him
said that she wasn’t buying it.
So, she was smart too. He wasn’t much for soothing. Being calm and gentle didn’t come easily to
him. He was rough and emotionally unavailable, according to Linda.
But it was obvious that this girl needed him to ease his edges off, or she was going to bolt like a
rabbit.
“I’m Brenton Sampson. Everyone calls me Brick, though.”
She didn’t react. It would help if she could talk. What had her brother said about communication?
“Do you have something you can use to talk to me?” he asked. He really wanted to check that
burn, but he wasn’t sure that she would let him touch her.
Yep, he’d really made a great first impression.
“I’m the security specialist that your brother hired to guard you.”
She nodded slowly. Right. So, she knew who he was. But she still looked ready to run at the
slightest hint that he meant her harm.
 Easy. Just move slowly. Talk quietly.
“Would you let me look at your foot and your hand? They’ve got to be sore?”
She shook her head and he tried to work out which question she was answering.
“You won’t let me look at your foot and hand?”
She just eyed him. Not an outright no, but not a yes, either.
The need to pick her up and just take care of her was riding him hard.
You can’t touch her without permission unless she’s in danger.
A shrug was his only answer. Shit. This was going to be more difficult than anticipated. How did
he communicate with her easily?
“A way of communicating with you would really help right now,” he muttered.
She nodded then turned to limp away.
“Shit, don’t walk around with a piece of glass in your foot.”
Freezing, she shot him a look. He expected to see fear in her eyes, but instead, her gaze was filled
with irritation. He ran his hand over his face. He needed to calm himself.
The job. You need this job.
Then he noticed blood on the floor. Actual blood this time. Fuck.
“You’re bleeding. That’s it. I’m touching you, so you need to deal.” He didn’t know how deep the
cut was, it might not be a matter of life or death, but he was certain that her brother wouldn’t
appreciate him standing there while she was hurt and bleeding.
Fuck. His Daddy instincts were screaming at him. But as he reached for her, there was a noise
behind him. Her eyes widened. He turned towards the threat, reaching for his gun.
“Whoa, it’s just us.” Elias held up his hands and Sterling shot him a look as they both walked
through the door.
Shit. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you coming.” Suddenly, he felt someone press up against his back.
Someone small, who was trembling.
“Juliet,” he said in a low voice. Was that soothing? He grimaced, fucked if he knew. The look
Elias shot him was filled with surprise, so maybe he’d managed it. “Juliet, it’s okay. These are my
friends and work colleagues. This is Elias.” He pointed at the dark-skinned, giant man who waved
down at the woman peering around from behind him.
 She twisted the back of his T-shirt in her hand and he remembered that being on the list of
instructions. What had happened to this girl that she couldn’t cope with meeting strangers? That she
had to literally hold onto someone to ease her anxiety? Was that what she was doing? Holding onto
him because he made her feel less anxious?
Something like satisfaction filled him.
Ease up, bud. You’re like the lesser of three evils. She doesn’t actually see you as her protector.
He might not have enjoyed being married to Linda, but he did like having someone to watch over,
to protect.
“Hi Juliet,” Elias said softly. Despite his large size, he was a big softie.
Brick expected Juliet’s tension to ease, but she just tightened her hold on him. That was odd.
Women usually much preferred Elias’ gentle approach or Sterling’s sense of humor. Not his grim
personality.
“Hey, Juliet. Did the boss man here tell you some bad stories about us?” Sterling joked. “Promise
none of it is true.”
She still didn’t react.
Elias looked to Brick, his eyebrows raised. “Anything we can do in here?”
Do?
“Did you guys spill something?” Sterling added. “There’s glass on the floor, and is that cranberry
juice?”
“Fuck. Her foot.” He whirled around and nearly sent her flying. Grabbing her upper arms, he
steadied her. “Are you all right? We need to check your foot.”
Her eyes were too wide in her pale face.
“She hurt herself?” Elias asked.
“Yes, but I think more urgent is that you guys step back and give her some breathing space.”
He’d seen several panic attacks before. Most people started to breathe in big gulps, as though they
couldn’t get enough air. But he had a feeling that Juliet’s panic attacks were different. And that she
was headed towards one right now.
Gently grasping hold of her uninjured hand, he placed it on his shirt. Something came over her
face. Something that looked like relief.
That’s right, baby. Let me anchor you.
 Fuck. He was in trouble.
“Are you sure? Is there something we can do?” Elias asked. “Juliet, could I check your foot for
you?
She shook her head frantically.
“I got it,” he said quietly. “I’m going to take Juliet and find a first-aid kit. Can you guys clean up
this? Did you find the pool house?”
“Yeah, it’s locked though,” Sterling replied.
She pointed at the side table. There was a single drawer in it.
“Key’s in there?” he asked.
She nodded.
Sterling moved to the drawer and opened it. She tensed, but that panicked look didn’t enter her
gaze again. Because she was holding onto him?
“Got it. We’ll give you both a bit of space,” Sterling said.
“I’ll go find the broom and mop,” Elias said in a falsely cheerful voice as he walked past them,
careful to give her a wide berth.
Juliet watched him but didn’t flinch. Her reactions were off. It wasn’t like she was afraid of them
exactly, just wary. But moments ago, he’d seen her panic. Almost felt it. Was she always this scared
around people she didn’t know? If so, how did she get on in everyday life? Hold down a job? Even
just buy her groceries? Surely, she had to run into strangers. Or was it because they were big and
male? Maybe because they were in her house?
He pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He’d ponder them later. She’d had a piece of glass in
her foot for far too long.
“Juliet, I have to get that piece of glass out of your foot,” he explained. “But I can’t let you walk
on it. Can I pick you up?”
She studied him for a long moment, then nodded.
“Good.” He let out a sigh of relief. Reaching out, he lifted her up into his arms slowly. “You
weigh nothing. Do you even eat?”
She stiffened, and he cursed himself for snapping like that. But when he glanced down at her, she
was glaring up at him.
Okay, so the bunny had claws. Good to know.
 “Not known for mincing my word, bunny,” he told her.
She snapped her teeth at him, crossing her arms over her chest. Amusement filled him.
“More of a kitten, huh?”
She sniffed.
“Tigress.”
Sighing, she looked sad all of a sudden, and he wanted the glaring, snappy Juliet back. She just
shook her head.
“Right, point me in the direction of where the first-aid kit is.”
She pointed down the hallway and they passed Elias in the corridor, carrying a mop, broom, and
bucket.
He nodded at Brick, giving Juliet a concerned look but he didn’t say anything. She tensed slightly
but otherwise, she didn’t show any sign of concern. Was it because she knew Brick would keep her
safe? That was silly, right?
He’d known her fifteen minutes and spent most of that time snapping at her.
Yep. Ridiculous.
She pointed to a door and he stepped into a huge country-style kitchen. It was done in soft blues
and creams with an enormous island. Reluctantly, he sat her down on the counter. Reaching over, she
grabbed a whiteboard and pen that were on the counter.
First-aid kit is under the sink.
All right. He supposed at least now they could communicate. Although he wished he could hear
her voice. Turning, he moved to the kitchen sink.
This was going to be a very strange assignment.

DON’ T CHECK out his ass. Don’t check out his ass.
Brick Sampson was too masculine to truly be thought of as handsome. Where Xavier’s features
were all perfectly proportioned, Brick’s were all slightly off. His jaw a bit too firm. Nose a bit too
wide. But it didn’t matter because the man was raw power in a large package. But there was
something radiating from Brick that just told you he was a force to be reckoned with.
He was gruff and impatient, there was nothing soft about him. She’d felt that when he’d held her
pressed against him. Definitely all muscle. To her shock, her body had reacted to him. She had never
shown sexual interest in any man except for Xavier. And he was a stranger.
She’d known Xavier for years. She’d first met him when he’d been in college and had come to
Wishingbone to visit Reuben. Xavier was safe. Kind and caring. She trusted him.
She didn’t trust Brick. She didn’t know him. And from what she had observed of him, he was the
opposite of Xavier. He wasn’t a man who was used to being defied. She’d seen his frustration when
he’d had to hold himself back with her. When he’d wanted to just storm in and take charge.
But he was here to do a job. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Still, she didn’t have to trust him to check out one fine, fine ass.
He turned just as she had that thought. And she felt her cheeks grow bright red. For the first time
ever, she was glad that she wasn’t able to talk. Because she had a feeling she might have just asked
him if she could give his ass a squeeze.
Just a little one.
Thankfully, having to write things down rather than just blurting them out meant she had time to
come to her senses.
Brick stood there for a moment, then he raised an eyebrow, and a hint of a self-satisfied smile
filled his face.
Uh-oh.
She had a feeling that she hadn’t hidden the fact that she’d been checking him out all that well
Look away. Act innocent.
How was she going to survive this?
He moved slowly and easily because he thought she was a bunny. Easily frightened.
And aren’t you?
Although it was a wonder she hadn’t had a full-blown panic attack just now. She’d managed to
stop it before it had really hit her.
Because of him.
Placing the first-aid kit on the counter, he drew out a stool and sat on it, then using slow
movements, he drew her foot up so he could examine it.
Her dress fell back to her calf, and she sucked in a breath.
Having her skin exposed made her feel raw. Vulnerable. But it was just her foot and calf. She
could handle it.
 “Walking around barefoot is a damn fool idea,” he muttered.
She attempted to pull her foot away, scowling down at him. Plenty of people walked around
barefoot. Who was this guy to keep snapping at her like he did? No one ever spoke to her this way.
He just kept hold of her foot.
“Especially with broken glass on the floor.”
It wasn’t like she’d done it on purpose.
She tried to pull her foot away again.
“Stay still,” he ordered, giving her a firm look. “I know it hurts, but if you stay still, I can do it
quicker.”
She sighed but kept still.
“There, got it all, I think. But it would be better to wash your foot as well before we put on the
antiseptic.”
He picked her up and carried her over to the other counter where the sink was, setting her down
and then gently washing her foot. A shiver ran through her, surprising her. Was she attracted to him?
What would it be like to have a fling? To have sex? Could she do that with a stranger?
She shuddered at the thought of him seeing her naked. Touching her.
“Easy,” he said, breaking through the fear threatening to send her into another panic attack.
“You’re fine. All clean. Just need the antiseptic. Sorry if this hurts.”
After the antiseptic, he put a bandage on, his movements brisk but gentle. Seemed like overkill to
her.
“There, that ought to do it. But I don’t want you walking on that foot for the rest of the day,
understand?”
She raised her eyebrows at his bossy tone. Oh, he was definitely a man who was used to getting
his own way.
Grabbing her whiteboard and pen, she wrote a message and showed it to him.
“Do I expect you to fly?” he repeated. “Are you sassing me?”
She tilted her head to one side. Was she? She’d never thought of herself as sassy.
She shrugged.
He eyed her for a moment, then let out a noise that was a cross between irritation and impatience.
She hid a smile. It was fun poking the bear.
Best not poke too hard, Juliet. You don’t know him. You don’t know when he’ll bite back.
Right. That somber reminder had her straightening. She knew that Reuben would have done an
extensive background check on this man. Even with a short timeframe, he wouldn’t hire someone who
wasn’t good at their job. However, there was a lot that could slip through a background check. It
didn’t mean he hadn’t done bad things, only that he hadn’t been caught.
And while her gut said she could trust him, she had nothing to base that on. She’d learned the hard
way that her gut could be wrong. And that when she listened to it, she could end up hurt.
“Hey, you okay?” He reached for her chin and she flinched back.
He froze. She had to resist the urge to lean into him, to press against him and breathe him in.
“Would you prefer that Elias come and help you?” he asked in a voice that had grown cooler.
There was something in the way he held himself. Something that said he fully expected to be
rejected. She wasn’t sure who would ever reject this man.
Well, other than her. But she was an idiot. Flawed.
“I’ll go get him to look at that burn.” He took a step away and she shook her head, covering up the
burn. He narrowed his gaze at her. “You need something on it. If the blister bursts, then it could easily
get infected.
She shook her head again. He wasn’t the boss of her. She wrote another message.
I’m fine. You probably need to settle in.
He crossed his arm over his chest. “It’s not okay. It needs checking. And I’ll settle in once you’re
okay.”
I’m okay.
He sent her a skeptical look.
She went to slide off the bench, but he moved into her way. A small spark of panic started in her
belly. Instead of trying to calm it, she let it grow. Because this was how she should react to him. No
way was the desire to curl up in his lap like a contented kitten and purr actually real. Or sane.
But he didn’t touch her. Or snap at her. Instead, he watched her carefully.
“For some reason, I don’t think you’re as scared of me as you’re pretending to be.”
She narrowed her gaze at him.
“Why don’t you want me touching you? Is it just me? Or all men?”
 None of your business. And I don’t need a shrink.
She showed him the message.
“No, you need a bodyguard. Which is me. I’m in charge of you.” He pointed a finger at her. If
she’d been braver, she would have bitten it.
Nobody is in charge of me.
“I’ve been employed to keep you safe, and that means if there is any danger to you, then you’re to
do as I say. If you’re hurt, then I’m in charge of taking care of you. If you need something, then I’m
here to provide it.”
That’s not what bodyguard means.
“Does in my world, babe.”
She wrinkled her nose at his arrogance. What he needed was a good, hard kick in the behind.
Fine. Then I’d like a double fudge sundae with whipped cream and sprinkles.
There. She sent him a triumphant look. He’d said if she needed something, he’d provide it.
“I’d say what you need is a medium-rare steak and an early night. Which I am happy to provide
after I see to your hand and get you settled.”
Arrogant ass.
 5

B rick watched her eyes fill with temper.

He preferred her temper to her wariness. Something told him she had a good reason for being
so guarded. He likely wasn’t helping her feel more at ease around him. He was bossy and blunt, and
he didn’t know how to change.
One day he’d know all those nightmares he saw swirling in her eyes and he’d make every person
that hurt her suffer. They’d rue the day they ever saw her.
Ease back.
You don’t know her. You’re here for a job. You have no right to her past.
And he shouldn’t have any interest in her. She was the client. She was obviously damaged. There
was far too much shit in his life going on right now for him to get into any sort of relationship. And he
definitely couldn’t fall for a client.
Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea for him to be her main contact.
“Give me your hand,” he said, injecting some Dom into his voice.
He waited impatiently for her to decide what to do. But before either of them could react or move,
the door opened and Elias stepped in. “All clean, man.”
Juliet let out a small squeal. Did that mean her vocal cords weren’t damaged? She leaned into
him, and he had to stop himself from preening like a damn peacock. Idiot.
There was definitely something weird here. He’d never felt such an instant draw towards
someone.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, Juliet,” Elias said, holding his hands out at his sides. He held
the mop in one hand and the broom in the other.
She made a noise of irritation, but he thought that was aimed at herself rather than Elias.
With a sigh, she picked up her whiteboard.
Random documents with unrelated
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 To prevent a horse traveling pigeon-toed is simply to pare off the
inner quarter of the toe, and have the shoe fitted as above. By this
operation the bearing will be level. This will apply also to a horse for
light riding, and for a horse traveling between the shafts; but for the
latter a good block heel on the outer, and a small one on the inner
quarter of the shoe should be made; the toe also to be made thick
in proportion, to make the bearing level.

No. 10. Coffin-Bone.

Fig. 1.
 a Upper pastern.
b Lower pastern.
c Navicular bone.
d Coffin-bone.

Fig. 2.

a Upper pastern.
b Lower pastern.
c Navicular bone.
d Coffin-bone, with the horny laminæ.

Plate No. 10 is a representation of a perfectly healthy coffin-bone,

with the upper and lower pastern and navicular bones front, and
reverse sides. The system recommended by the author is intended
to prevent any pressure whatever on the wings of the coffin-bone.
Anything that prevents the perfectly free action of the coffin-bone
will cause “navicular disease,” and “ossified cartilages.” After a foot is
pared, as recommended in this, so as to be easily expanded, the
wings of the coffin-bone, which are the widest part, should be
protected by a wide shoe, and there should be no pressure whatever
on the heels.
No. 11. Fitting a Shoe to Remove Pressure from the Heel.
 No. 12. Contracted. Natural.

No. 13. Old Style Paring out the Foot. New Style.
 No. 14. Contracted Foot after Treatment.

CORNS.
The pressure of the bor on one side of the seat of the disease,
and of the horny substance of a contracted heel on the other side,
added to a tight shoe, causes inflammation, which, when it becomes
chronic, is styled a corn.
 A corn may be detected by paring the foot close. It is not
necessary, as recommended by some authorities, to use pincers,
squeezing the hoof all around to find the corn, thereby giving the
horse unnecessary pain. They are to be found only in the heel, and
do not result from bruises, but from pressure.
Treatment.—The shoe having been removed, the inside of the
hoof should be pared out thoroughly all around, and if a long hoof, it
should be shortened. If the corn is visible, the heel should be pared
down and the bors weakened, opening the heel as far back as
possible (see Plate No. 11), and fitting an open shoe, so as to throw
the pressure off the heel. The pressure having been removed, the
corn will disappear, or grow down in the quarter, in which case the
farrier should fit a bor shoe, so as to throw the weight off the
diseased heel and partly on the frog, the elastic surface of which will
prevent severe pressure.
If a horse has a long foot, the pressure is more on the corns,
because his foot is in front of him, and an over-proportion of his
weight comes on his heels. A horse with a long foot is like a man
with a thick sole to his boot and no heels, for with his heels he
strikes the ground first.
Every horse should have his feet well under him, and not in front
of him. This fact should be taken into consideration when fitting the
open shoe.
Inflammation should be reduced by placing a swab over the
coronet, and using a hot poultice of linseed meal for the foot.
No. 15. Expanding the Foot after it has been Pared out.
No. 16. Lateral Quarter-Crack before Treatment.
Contracted Foot.
No. 17. Quarter-Crack—Lateral—Under Treatment.
 No. 18. Straight Quarter-Crack under Treatment.

The pressure having been removed from a corn for a fortnight, it

will be observed to have a light color, representing the color of a
new corn, and if properly treated, it will gradually disappear, and be
displaced by a healthy growth of foot.
The horse should be allowed at least a month in which to recover
from his lameness; but it is not necessary to turn him out to grass,
and care should be taken that his feet are closely attended to,
having the shoes renewed about once in a fortnight.
Contraction is the result of neglect, want of natural moisture, and
tight shoeing. The result is lameness, if in one foot, and if in both
feet, the loss of their free, natural use, causing short steps and
stumbling. If the inner quarter is contracted, it is the cause, if not
soon remedied, of quarter-crack. The practice of fitting a shoe so as
to fit tighter on the inner than the outer quarter, to prevent
interfering, renders it more liable to contraction.
The want of proper moisture causes the horn to shrink, and
prevents the foot from expanding naturally. This should be remedied
by soaking the feet, if feverish, in warm, and if healthy, in cold
water, twice a day, an hour at each time. This moisture should be
applied at least two hours before the horse is used. This will render
the foot elastic, and prevent abuse from traveling over rough roads.
By reference to accompanying plate, No. 12, the difference will be
observed between a natural and a contracted foot. The quarters
growing toward each other in the contracted, cause the coffin-bone
to lose its proper shape, and forcing the sensitive frog upwards from
its proper place, causes scratches and thrush.
Treatment of contraction, briefly speaking, is expansion. The foot
should be thoroughly prepared in the following manner: If the horse
is lame, the farrier should shorten the toe, lower the foot all around,
and open the heels back until the blood is drawn. The sole of the
foot should be pared as closely as possible on each side of the frog,
in the manner shown by the illustration on Plate No. 12, “natural
foot.” The frog should be lowered, but the side should not be cut. A
groove should be made with a rasp just under and parallel with the
coronet on each side (see Plate No. 14) deep enough to draw blood,
then with a fine shoeing knife, cut little notches down from the
cornet and across the groove at certain equal distances, as shown
by illustration No. 14, the entire length of the groove. These notches
should also be deep enough to draw blood. This will relieve the
pressure caused by contraction from the cartilages on both sides,
and allow them to resume their proper shape.
No. 19. Quarter-Crack, after Treatment.
 No. 20. Toe-Crack, before Treatment.

Having the foot ready for a shoe, a hand should be placed on each
side of the foot, pressing it outward in the manner shown by Plate
No, 15. The shoe must be very carefully fitted, and must have eight
nail-holes, for the reason that it is the heel nails that relieve a horse
while in contraction.
The shoe should be fitted so as to project at least a quarter of an
inch on each side of the foot, so as to see the nail-holes projecting
on each side of the outer and inner quarter. Having this
accomplished, the bearing should be equal; the nails must be driven
first toward the toe, then toward the heel, driving them half-way,
and using the utmost care and skill; the higher the nails are driven
the better. The shoe being fitted so wide, there is no fear of pricking.
The nails toward the heel should be driven by alternate taps on
each side, because the foot expands on each side on account of
being pared so thin on either side of the frog, the source of the
expansion.
The heel nails should relieve the wings of the coffin-bone, which
suffer most while in a state of contraction, and allow them to come
back to their proper position.
Considerable soreness will result from this mode of treatment,
which can be remedied by using thin poultices of linseed meal,
applied as hot as possible, to be renewed at least once every two
days for the period of two weeks. The foot should also be thoroughly
soaked in a bucket of warm water for half an hour at each renewal
of the poultice; this will remove all soreness, and prevent the foot
from shrinking when exposed to the weather. The expansion
treatment should be continued gradually until the coffin-bone
resumes its natural shape; when this is accomplished, the growing
hoof will naturally accommodate itself to the bone.
The severe treatment recommended is necessary only in an
aggravated case causing lameness. It can be so modified by cutting
the hoof, and expanding the foot gradually, as to allow the horse to
be used while under treatment, if he has not been disabled.

QUARTER AND TOE-CRACKS.

Quarter-cracks are commonly found in feet of saddle horses, and
are caused by contraction and pressure, and are also the result of a
shoe being fitted tightly on the inner quarter, to prevent interfering,
as stated in remarks on “Contraction.”
Most commonly found on the inner quarter; it commences at the
coronet, extending downward, and when it extends through to the
laminæ causes lameness, and is especially serious if the foot is
contracted, as shown by Plate No. 16.
There are two kinds of quarter-cracks, as shown by plates Nos. 17
and 18—the lateral and the straight the latter being the most
serious, if the separation commences at the coronet.
Treatment.—If the foot is inclined to contract, it should be
prepared as for contraction; shorten the toe and expand the foot,
under the directions already given. If lameness has resulted, a bor
shoe should be fitted, so as to remove all pressure from half an inch
on each side of the crack, then with a rasp cut a groove under and
parallel with the coronet, extending about half an inch on each side
of the crack; with a shoeing knife cut some small notches on each
side of the groove, after which the edges of the crack may be cut
away. (See Plates Nos. 17 and 18.) If the foot bleeds freely so much
the better. After this is done a firing-iron should be applied so as to
cauterize the crack. This operation having been performed, the foot
should be dressed with tar every morning for about three weeks.
The pressure being removed, the new growth will commence at the
coronet, and extend downward, as shown in Plate No. 19, until a
permanent cure is effected.
No. 21. Toe-Crack, after Treatment.

Explaining use of “Expansion Plate.”

 No. 22. Thrush.

Before Treatment. After Treatment.

No. 23. Pumice Foot.

Before Treatment. After Treatment.

 No. 24. Hoof-bound—Under Treatment.

Toe-crack, more common to heavy and draught horses, is caused

by want of room; the space inside the wall of the foot not being
large enough to accommodate the laminæ, it causes inflammation,
and breaks out at the weakest point, which is the coronet, and
extends downward to the toe, causing the foot to assume the
appearance of a cloven foot. (See Plate No. 20.)
Treatment.—Shorten the toe as much as possible, and then pare
the sole of the foot until it will yield to the pressure of the thumb. No
pressure should be allowed within half an inch on each side of the
crack on the toe, for the reason that the pressure on the toe
prevents the coronet from uniting. Having prepared the sole of the
foot, a fine shoeing knife should be used to remove the horn that is
inclined to grow inward on each side of the crack, after which a
groove under the coronet, extending on each side of the crack, will
be made, and the notches on each side of the groove as already
directed. A firing-iron should be applied to cauterize the crack from
the coronet downward. Then the crack should be cut away in the
center, so as to allow the use of an “expansion plate,” as shown in
Plate No. 21. This expansion plate can be made of brass or steel. It
is composed of four pieces, as follows: A plate divided in the center
into two equal parts, A and B (see Plate No. 21), and a thread cut in
the center. Each part is made so as to fit dove-tailed into the crack,
held in place with a screw C, and a burr D, underneath, to prevent
the screw from pressing the laminæ of the foot. The screw, which
has considerable power as a lever, forces the two plates apart, lifts
up the wall of the foot which is pressing each side of the crack, and
presses it outward. This being done, an open shoe should be fitted,
wider than the foot, so as to expand it, which, together with the
notches cut in the groove under the coronet, will cause a new and
strong growth from each side of the crack, commencing at the
coronet and extending downward.
The length of time required to effect a removal of the crack
depends on the treatment and skill of the operator. If the foot is
expanded by the plate with skill, and the nails in the shoe driven so
as to prevent the wall of the foot from closing in on the crack, the
plate may be removed at once; otherwise it should remain
stationary, which can be done by substituting the small screw E,
which will not prevent the horse from being used while under
treatment. The use of the expansion plate is not necessary, unless
the crack extends the whole length of the hoof. The crack extending
from the coronet, partly down the front of the foot, should be
treated at once, removing pressure by shortening the toe and
expanding the foot, as already instructed; then, by means of the
groove and notches, promote a new growth at the coronet.

THRUSH.
Is a disease of the frog, most common to a foot which is hoof-
bound or contracted, but all horses’ feet are subject to it when they
are neglected. The frog, pressed on each side by the bors of the
foot, and from the overgrowth of the hoof, becomes inflamed, and
the result is thrush. (See Plate No. 22.)

No. 25. Overgrowth of Hoof and Neglect.

After Treatment. Ground Surface before Treatment.

Treatment if the Hoof is Hoof-bound.—The farrier, after removing

the shoe, should use his rasp, and lower the wall of the foot all
around from heel to heel; then, by the free use of the knife, pare the
foot to its natural size. Also pare around the frog until the sole of the
foot yields to the pressure of the thumb, then open the heels and
remove the pegs that grow on each side of the heels. All this should
be done before a knife is used on the frog. After all pressure is
removed by this paring operation, the condition of the frog will show
how it was affected by pressure on each side.
No. 26. Overgrowth of Hoof—Front View
before Treatment.
No. 27. Overgrowth of Hoof—Front View
after Treatment.
 No. 28. Navicula.—Enlargement of
Metacarpal Bone.

Next, by the use of the knife, cut a slice off the top of the frog,
and carefully clean out the cleft, which suffers most on account of
the direct pressure of the bors on each side of the frog. After this
cleaning operation is performed, a warm poultice of flaxseed meal
should be applied two or three times, according to the condition of
the foot. When the poultice is removed, the foot should be washed
out occasionally with castile soap and warm water, after which a
little salt, ground into fine powder, should be forced into the cleft,
and kept in by a mixture of tar and oakum as a dressing, after which
an open shoe should be fitted so as to expand the foot gradually.
This treatment should be pursued until a permanent cure is effected.
If the foot is in a state of contraction, it should be expanded under
the instructions already given. By this expansion all pressure is
removed, and a permanent cure is easily effected by following the
instructions already given.
No liquid remedies, such as butter of antimony, or chloride of zinc,
should be used, as they dry up the foot before the inflammation is
removed.
By reference to Plate No. 22 a good idea may be obtained of the
manner of paring out a hoof suffering from thrush.

PUMICE FOOT.
(See Plate No. 23) should always be pared out on each side of the
frog until it yields to the pressure of the thumb. This paring should,
however, be done immediately around the frog, leaving more than
the usual ground surface (see plate After Treatment). The toe should
be shortened as much as possible, and the heels cut out back. If the
horse is lame a bor shoe is the best to protect the foot, with a
leather sole, and some spirits of tar as a moisture. This shoe should
be renewed at least once a month, with a leather sole, until a cure is
effected.

HOOF-BOUND.
 (Plate No. 24.) A horse that is hoof-bound is deprived of his free
action, and resembles a horse that is foundered.
Treatment.—The foot should be pared out thoroughly, and on each
side of the frog, until it yields to the pressure of the thumb. Open
the heels and remove the bors that press the frog on each side, and
cause the animal much pain.
The toe should be shortened, and if the foot is inclined to
contraction, the shoe should be fitted wider than the foot, which, if
done properly, will expand the foot (see article Contraction). The
shoe should be a good, heavy, open one, well eased off at the heels.
Having the foot prepared, the operation should next be performed
around the coronet, as follows: If the cartilages are hard, as they
are generally from being pressed upwards, a groove should be made
with a rasp immediately under the coronet, and extending all the
way across from heel to heel, deep enough to draw blood. Next,
with a fine knife cut notches across the groove at equal distances
the whole length of the groove, and extending from the coronet
downward.
By this operation, illustrated on Plate No. 24, the pressure is
removed from the cartilages. After this a poultice of linseed meal
should be applied around the coronet, which loosens all pressure
and starts a new growth.
If the horse is lame from this disease the close cutting operation
should be performed and the poultice applied one week; otherwise
the operation need not be so severe.
Plates Nos. 25, 26, 27—Illustrations of Overgrowth of Hoof and
Neglect before and after Treatment.—The illustration, “Before
Treatment,” Plate No, 25, represents the ground surface of a foot
operated upon, and “After Treatment” represents the same foot after
one pound of overgrowth had been removed from one foot. Plates
Nos. 26 and 27 show the difference between the foot before and
after treatment, and show the importance of being careful in
observing a horse’s foot so as to prevent lameness, and the various
diseases caused by neglect.
Plates Nos. 28 and 29—Enlargement of the Metacarpal Bone.—In a
great many cases because the enlargement interferes with the free
use of the flexor tendon, pressing it out of its proper place. A horse
with a contracted foot suffers from this pressure when the shoe is
fitted tight and brings the heels inward. The metacarpal bones
extend from the back of the knee downward to the pastern joint,
forming, as it were, a brace on each side. They become quite small
as they extend downward, and the enlargement is generally found
on the inside of the leg. (See Plate No. 28.)

No. 29. Enlargement of the Metacarpal Bone.

a Showing how to find the enlargement.

b Showing the manner in which the incision is made,

and the enlargement removed.
 The enlargement may be discovered by running the hand
downward from the knee, the thumb on the side and the forefinger
on the other, until it is felt (see Plate 29, “A”). If pressed and the
horse yields to the pressure, it is a sure sign that he is affected, and
he should be properly shod at once as if for contraction, or the
enlargement should be removed. To do this, the horse should be in
the following position: First, with plenty of straw under him to
prevent bruising; then he should be thrown on his side and fastened
down, so as to allow the operator to make an incision with a fine
pocket knife partly to the front and near where the enlargement is.
This operation will not interfere with the tendons, or veins that
extend upward from the foot. The incision having been made, the
finger may be inserted, as shown in Plate No. 29, “B,” so as to raise
the enlargement and make it visible. Then, with a pair of nippers,
snap the end off with one motion. The incision should be closed,
fastened together with a needle and silk thread; then apply a linen
bandage and over this a woolen cloth, containing a little moisture, to
prevent fever. A little sweet oil should be applied, to keep it clean
while healing. The operation is not severe and is thoroughly
effective.
 No. 30. A Foot that isDeprived of the free
use of the Back Tendons.

Plates Nos. 30 and 31 represent a foot which has been deprived of

the free use of the back tendons, caused by a sudden jar or misstep,
causing a horse so affected to travel on his toe, and can be
remedied only by a system of expanding the foot under the
directions already given for contraction.
 No. 31.

Ossified growth of Upper and Lower Pastern Joint,

also Navicular Joint and Coffin-bone, in a foot which
has been deprived of the free use of the back
Tendons. See Plate No. 30.

After this a shoe should be fitted with a toe and no heels, for by
raising the toe the bearing is thrown on the heels. If the action is
heavy on the toe, the shoe should be provided with a steel toe-calk.
This will prevent a horse from traveling on his toe, and such a case,
if taken in time, can be remedied, if not permanently cured, by
simply fitting a shoe so as to throw the bearing on the heels.
 No. 32. The Sensitive Frog.

Interior surface. Exterior surface.

Plates Nos. 30 and 31 represent an aggravated case, which from

neglect became incurable.
Plate No. 32 represents the exterior surface of the sensitive frog.
The great principle of this system of paring the horse’s feet, is to
remove all pressure from the frog. It should be protected from all
pressure, and such diseases as thrush and scratches may be
avoided.
Plate No. 33 gives a sectional view of all the bones and tendons of
the horse’s foot. Every blacksmith and farrier should thoroughly
understand this and the anatomy of the horse’s foot, in order to be
able to know exactly how to treat any disease which may be brought
to their notice.
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