Ty asked and stared at the two metal oddities Lincoln Alexander had crafted. Calling them horseshoes seemed overly optimistic. The older boy shrugged. “Worth a try, maybe.” Ty nodded dubiously. They were crazy-looking things, no doubt about that, but Sam was a farrier who seemed game to try new methods . . . and strangely willing to venture out to the Lazy day or night. But maybe that was because of Colt Dickenson. Ty mentally winced. It wasn’t as if he wanted Colt and Casie to get together. God knew there wasn’t a rodeo cowboy in the universe who was going to be good enough for her, but just maybe she wanted him anyway. “Try them if you like,” Lincoln said and turned away, but Ty couldn’t let it go at that. Debt weighed like grinding millstones on his back. “What do I owe you?” Lincoln shook his head. “I was just trying stuff. No guarantees.” An odd meld of anger and appreciation boiled up inside him. Emotions were sneaky little bastards, especially after so many years of making sure he had none.
