The barn was buzzing with the quiet sounds of a typical morning—hay being shuffled, the soft snorts of horses, and the occasional creak of saddle leather. Will Taggert strode through the barn aisle, a bucket in one hand and a gentle smile on his face. Jimber’s stall was nearby, the palomino’s golden head poking over the door to watch curiously as Will stopped in front of a new stall.

Inside stood a horse unfamiliar to him—a fresh addition to the barn. The horse’s coat gleamed, evidence of careful grooming, and their ears flicked toward Will as he approached. He set the bucket down and leaned against the stall door, taking a moment to study the new arrival with an appraising, yet kind, gaze.

“Well, look at you,” he said, his voice calm and welcoming. “You must be the new one everyone’s been talking about. Heard you’ve got some real promise.”

He reached out a hand slowly, letting the horse sniff him. “I’m Will. This here’s my place—or part of it, anyway. Don’t worry; we’re all about taking care of our own here. You’ll fit in just fine.”

Jimber let out a soft nicker from his stall, drawing Will’s attention. He chuckled, gesturing toward his horse. “That’s Jimber over there. Don’t let him fool you—he might act like the king of the barn, but he’s all bark and no bite. You two will get along in no time.”