Prologue

meta·mor·pho·sis

It was a ten-dollar word Austin Carson’s mother, Marie, had taught him while homeschooling him. It meant a striking change in appearance, character, or circumstances.

She’d given him a mythical example of the weaver Arachne, whom the goddess Athena had turned into a spider that would spin only beautiful webs. In the real world, heat and pressure over hundreds of years can turn limestone into marble. The most famous example of metamorphosis is a caterpillar turning into a butterfly.

For Austin, it meant moving from the great outdoors of Montana to a dude ranch in Groesbeck, Texas, a small town outside of Waco. Before they moved, his dad, Clay, pointed it out on a map.

The ranch they were moving to comprised 1,023 acres and was managed for wildlife, fish, cattle, horses, and hay production. Its website boasted vacations that featured horseback riding, hiking, fishing, and hunting deer, wild hogs, ducks, and much more. Austin and his dad were hired to take care of the horses.

Austin’s parents’ early years couldn’t have been more different. His mother was a trust-fund princess who’d traveled to Montana for a vacation after graduating from Wellesley College with a liberal arts degree. His father, a high school dropout, worked as a cowhand.

They’d met at a seedy bar, and Clay was smitten the moment he saw Marie. One thing led to another, and a night of passion ensued. When Marie got home, she discovered she was pregnant. They married seven months later.

Austin’s dad worked for a large cattle farm where he and Marie raised Austin. Austin loved summers. His mom would drive their motorhome, and his dad would pull the horse trailer to the mountains, where they would herd the cattle from valley to valley to graze.

Austin had been riding a horse since he was five, helping his dad. He’d been given Charger, his dad’s old cow horse, and would ride from sunup to sundown as they tended to the cows. Charger seemed to have an instinct about what a cow would do. In Austin’s younger years, there were many times he just held on as his horse did all the work.

Fall through spring, they lived at the ranch, where he tended to the horses and spent time with his mom being homeschooled. It wasn’t that he couldn’t have gone to the local school, but rather that his mother was appalled at the poor quality of education the schools there offered. She’d gone to private schools with rigorous, highly competitive educational programs.

Austin didn’t really mind because he wasn’t used to being around a lot of people. He was much more comfortable with animals.

It turned out his mom had other ideas. About the time he turned ten, she and his dad began to fight because she wanted to return to Virginia. Marie claimed Austin was naturally gifted and was wasting his gifts on being just a cowboy. She said Austin should be in a private school where they would challenge him.

Marie also admitted she missed being one of the beautiful people and the life that came with it. She said her son deserved the benefit of his birthright.

When Austin was eleven, his parents divorced. They gave him the choice of remaining with his dad or moving with his mom. Ultimately, he couldn’t imagine being around so many people, so he stayed in Montana.

His dad had been quiet for the past three years. Austin worried his dad might be considering a move to Virginia to be with his mom.

His dad seemed to ignore him, which didn’t bother Austin. The lack of parental oversight meant he didn’t go to school and allowed him to spend time taking care of the horses, cows, and various animals on the farm.

Austin remembered the day his metamorphosis began. The church ladies showed up and talked with his father about sending Austin to school and church. A week later, when Austin returned to the motorhome, his dad came in and announced, “I’ve taken a job in Texas as a ranch manager.”

Suddenly, Austin’s life turned upside down. His father sold Charger and the motorhome Austin had lived in all his life to a lovely older couple who wanted to retire. Charger had begun to slow down, and Austin recognized that he couldn’t keep up with the cattle anymore. His dad told him he’d buy Austin a new horse when they got to Texas. They packed everything into their pickup truck, loaded his dad’s horse, Blaze, into the trailer, and began the long drive to Texas.

On April first, after an uneventful journey, they arrived at Houston Farms. They turned off the main road onto the long drive to the farm buildings. Large oaks canopied the road, making it evident that the farm had been there for generations.

When they came around a bend, Austin was surprised that everything looked new. He’d expected an old farmhouse with an even older barn. They would move into the apartment over the thirty-eight-stall horse barn, so they’d be close to work.

The owner, Zeb Houston, greeted them when they pulled to a stop. He looked like one of those TV cowboys on the show Yellowstone.

“Austin, get Blaze out of the trailer and walk him around so he gets familiar with his new surroundings while I talk to Mr. Houston.”

Blaze was being ornery after being stuck in the trailer for most of the past three days, so Austin saddled him up for a ride to run off his bad attitude. As soon as Austin got himself mounted, Blaze bolted for the barn. One of the mares was in season, and Blaze wanted to make her acquaintance. Luckily, the mare was in her stall and shied away when the aggressive stud came a-calling.

“Get that ... that ... animal away from my horse!” a gorgeous blond girl, who must have been about his age, yelled.

“Sorry, ma’am. He’s my dad’s horse and sometimes has a mind of his own,” Austin said, jerking the reins and kicking Blaze’s sides to get him to mind.

Blaze’s ears went back, never a good sign, and he tried to bite Austin. Austin laughed at the poor attempt and corrected the horse again, which had the same effect as being shot out of a cannon as Blaze galloped through the barn. Fortunately, the girl wisely stepped into the tack room to get out of the way.

Austin noticed two things. First, this might be the nicest barn he’d ever seen. The aisle was wide—large enough to get a tractor or trailer in—with a floor made of rubber pavers that looked like stone. The stalls were made of oak with black metal bars on top. Each one had a door with a V-shaped yoke that allowed the horses to socialize with others in the barn.

The second was that the girl had checked him out. The last thing he wanted was for Blaze to unhorse him in front of her. For a cowboy, that would be unthinkable.

He let Blaze have his head, and the stallion raced around the barn once and then shot off down a trail. Austin noted his dad giving him a dirty look as he talked to Mr. Houston. Austin didn’t doubt he would be spoken to later.

As he’d observed earlier, the main farmhouse looked new. Up close, he saw it was a monstrous two-story mansion on a hill with floor-to-ceiling windows facing the lake. A long dock with three covered boat slips jutted out into the water. Cabins and what looked like a bunkhouse for guests dotted the shore. The cottages surrounded a large fire pit with benches and a pole barn with tables and an outdoor kitchen.

All that soon disappeared as Austin and Blaze descended a well-worn trail into the woods. Someone had taken care of the track by spreading pine needles, which firmed it up and reduced the amount of mud—the bane of all horse owners.

Blaze finally settled down and reduced his speed to a trot, allowing Austin to enjoy his ride. The weather in Texas was a balmy sixty-five degrees. When they left Montana, it had been twenty-five degrees and snowing, which followed them through Wyoming and Colorado. The roads were a mess, so reaching the New Mexico state line took them forever. From there, the trip improved considerably.

The truck’s navigation system said the trip should have taken them a full day, but with rest stops for Blaze, and the snow, it turned into three. Something you learned in Montana was that you didn’t push it in the snow when pulling a horse trailer.

When Blaze was ready, they headed back to the horse barn, where Austin rode him into the grooming station. The girl he’d seen earlier had disappeared. He unsaddled Blaze and gave the horse a pail of water to drink, a quick hose-down to knock the dust off him, and a good brushing. Austin then carefully checked the horse’s legs and hooves. Blaze had kicked the side of the trailer a few times to show his displeasure at being cooped up. Austin didn’t find any serious damage, but, just in case, applied liniment and wrapped the horse’s legs to help with any pain Blaze might have.

When Austin was almost done, two boys showed up. They looked to be the girl’s brothers.

“You must be the boy who has my sister in a tizzy,” the older one said.