A Santini's Heart (The Santinis Book 10)

C
opyright August 2016

Cover Art by Brandy Walker, TEZ Graphics

Edited by Noel Varner

Produced in the USA

Published by Melissa Schroeder

PO Box 861585
Vint Hill Farm, VA 20187-1585

www.MelissaSchroeder.net

A Santini’s Heart is a work of fiction and the characters, events, and dialogue found within the story are from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons or events, real or imaginary, is completely coincidental.

N
ot part
of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email or printing without written permission from the author.

* * *

* * *

C
arlos Santini looked
out over the barren landscape of Arizona as it flew by. His mother was driving his truck, as if he couldn’t handle the simple task. Of course, he couldn’t blame her for taking over the controls. Since he’d left rehab, he had been a pain in the ass—as his father had pointed out the night before. Brando, his twin brother, had even texted him, and asked Carlos why he had his head up his ass. Carlos didn’t respond. Couldn’t actually. He was mad at the world, and he really didn’t know why.

“This is for the best,” his mother stated.

Carlos ground his teeth. The sentence was simple and self-explanatory. Worse, he knew she was right. It shamed him that he had been such a bastard to her. She had definitely raised him better. Just remembering how awful he had been pissed him off even more.

He glanced at her. She was the strongest woman he knew. Throughout his father’s military career, she had been the rock. Even with six kids, she was always there for each of them, like right now, when he was being an idgit.

“I’m sorry.”

The two words seemed to soften her. Her shoulders relaxed and she was no longer frowning. She flicked a glance at him.

“I just want you to try this out. I met the owners and, while it isn’t a formal hospital or clinic, I’ve seen some of the results. I think they could really help you.”

He nodded. “I’ll try.”

He was an adult. A man who should have his shit together. But since being wounded in Iraq, he’d been so mad at the world. He wanted to destroy everything around him. Instead of demonstrating outward hatred, he did stupid things. He’d started testing his limits in extreme sports. The last adventure had left him with a sprained ankle, bruised pride, and a mother who had had enough.

She pulled up to the front of a massive ranch house. To the left, he saw stalls of horses.
Equine therapy
. He sighed. He’d try anything to quit being so damned pissed.

He stepped out of the truck, and a man in a wheelchair came down the ramp. He wore his hair high and tight, signaling he was former military. There was a web of scars that covered his left arm, neck and cheek.

“Mrs. Santini,” he said, greeting his mother with a smile. “I see you brought Carlos.”

It was like his first day of school. He was waiting for them to ask if he brought his supplies and backpack.
Fuck.

“Yes, this is Carlos. Carlos, this is Adrian Mendoza.”

“Nice to meet you,” Carlos said.

Adrian nodded. “Why don’t you go on into the house, Mrs. Santini? There are some cookies and drinks. I want to introduce Carlos to our best trainer.”

His mother looked at Carlos and he nodded. There was no reason to resist it now. He waited until she hurried up the stairs and into the house before he let loose a breath.

“Sucks, I know,” Adrian said.

He looked at the man. “What?”

“The hovering. Making you feel like you’re five years old and can’t take care of yourself. Drove me nuts after I got back.”

Carlos nodded, the tension between his shoulder blades relaxing a bit.

“Well, come on. I want you to meet Tia.”

He followed beside Adrian. “What service?”

“Marines,” Carlos said.

“Army for me. Hit by an IED just outside of Kabul.”

“Bagdad bombing, last June.”

“The one where the advisors got killed?”

“Yeah.” Then, he asked the one thing he had been afraid to. “Do you think this works? Tell me the truth.”

Adrian nodded as they neared the barn. “Saved my life. If it weren’t for Tia, I’m not sure I would be here today.”

He heard the horse before he saw the woman. The sound of thundering hooves filled the air. Carlos turned in the direction of the sound—and everything seemed to fade into the background. She was riding on a massive brown horse. A straw hat sat on top of her head, as she galloped across the pen. The horse came to a gate and effortlessly jumped over it. The horse and woman worked in harmony, as if they shared one mind and body. The beauty of it took his breath away.

“Tia,” Adrian yelled out. The woman pulled the horse to a stop and smiled at them. After urging the horse with the reins, they made their way over to the fence.

She was wearing the straw cowboy hat, a sleeveless green t-shirt, and jeans. Reddish-brown hair was pulled into a long thick braid.

“Hey there, Adrian. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Carlos Santini. Remember, we talked about him?”

She nodded and looked at Carlos. “Looks like you’re walking fine. Do you have any physical limitations?”

He shook his head.

“What was that?” she asked in a tone his mother had used the first time he cussed in front of her.
Damn
.

“No. No physical limitations.”

She smiled. “Good. Get your gear and then get your ass out here. We’ll get you ready to ride.”

Then she urged the horse to trot away.

He watched, trying to figure out just what he was feeling. Part of it was irritation. He didn’t like being dismissed that way. But…beneath that, it was attraction. Damn, he liked an ornery woman.

“She’s not very chatty, is she?”

Adrian chuckled. “Never has been. Most women are, but Tia...she never was a talker.”

He glanced at Adrian, then back at Tia. He noted the similar eye color, the strong jawline…and the smile. They had the same smile.

“Yep, that’s my sister. Gear up, Santini. This is the first day of the rest of your life.”