The broke old farmer bought the dying mare for $200. Then the millionaire arrived with a sheriff-and the horse hid behind the old man like she knew exactly who had hurt her

disposing of a living contradiction.

“How much money?” he asked.

“For a Dutch Warmblood jumping at this level?” Lena looked at the file again, jaw tight. “The mortality policy could easily have paid a quarter million. Maybe more.”

Wade felt the morning air turn thin in his lungs.

Preston Mallory had not merely abandoned a crippled horse. He had collected continue reading …