Now that Jake is here, it's REALLY the good part- but full disclosure, while Sam and Jake are 100% the main characters of this story, I wouldn't call it a "romance". I tried to go for slow burn, but honestly? I'm not very good at that, so it simply is what it is. I NEED A BETA so if anyone would like to apply for that job please dm me.

Although, I am not very good at taking criticism, either. So there's that.

It shouldn't have surprised her that Jake was there- didn't it make sense he'd made it home and wanted to see his horse right away? Sam would have done the same, but she was still caught off-guard to run into Jake at River Bend, saddling his horse like he'd never been gone.

"Uh," Sam said intelligently, still frozen in the doorway. "Hi."

Jake looked up at her briefly and replied with "mm". He'd always been a man of few words.

She got her wits back together and actually stepped into the barn. Jake had turned his attention to cinching up Witch, so Sam had free rein to unintentionally check out her best friend for a moment. She hadn't seen him since New Year's Day, almost six months ago now. Oddly, he looked exactly the same and completely different than before. She couldn't put her finger on it.

She and Jake had been friends (or at least, acquaintances) since they were toddlers. Most of that friendship had been comprised of bickering, teasing, and occasionally riding their horses together- only in the past few years had something begun to change for them. Perhaps now that they were older, they had matured enough to treat each other with more respect. More likely, Sam though, Jake had hit sixteen or so and turned insanely freaking hot.

When he wasn't around, it was easy to forget about that and just think of him as that prickly guy who called her "Brat". When he was right in front of her, all biceps and chiseled jawlines, it was impossible to ignore: Jake Ely was drop-dead gorgeous.

Sam determinedly pulled herself together. This was Jake. Her friend. She may or may not have had a stupid crush on him in middle school, but she was over that now and needed to act like an adult. Starting now.

Once they actually had a conversation (if Jake could be persuaded to string multiple words together) things would feel normal between them again. Sam decided to jump-start that conversation and came up with the beautiful eloquence of "uh duh". So much for normal.

If Jake noticed she was tongue-tied, he didn't show it. He did, however, talk to her once he'd finished adjusting his stirrups. "You comin' with or not?"

Sam hadn't known she was invited. "I thought you were going home."

"Someone's gotta find whatever took the Phantom down. Come on."

Sam looked down at her outfit. Ratty jean shorts and her "San Frantastic" t-shirt. Definitely not riding clothes or, arguably, something she wanted Jake to see her wear. "I'll need a minute."

"I'll wait."

Sam dashed to the house, hurriedly apologizing to Windy for bailing on him and then to Gram for nearly slamming into her as they passed each other in the kitchen. "Where are you going in such a hurry?" Gram demanded as Sam searched her room for her cleanest pair of jeans.

"Riding!" Sam called. "Jake's back!"

Sam changed as fast as she could and hurried back to the barn. She thought she made pretty good time, but somehow, Ace was already tied and saddled next to Witch. Annoyed, Sam thought Jake was so good with horses he'd probably just asked nicely and Ace saddled himself.

"Ready?" asked Jake. Sam nodded and bridled Ace, who did not look thrilled to see her by any means.

They led their horses out of the barn. Sam hoped, secretly and somewhat meanly, that Jake might appear out-of-practice after going so long without riding, but no such luck. He swung into the saddle gracefully and looked perfectly at home on Witch's back. Sam felt comparatively clumsy mounting Ace.

The Phantom whinnied as they rode out, and Witch was stepping high. Jake didn't say anything, of course, but Sam didn't miss the way his gaze lingered on the white stallion. He'd never been Blackie's biggest fan, and Sam didn't see why that would change now.

Still, she felt the need to ask, "What do you think? About him?"

She knew Jake's brothers would have already told him everything that happened the day before, possibly with some embellishments added.

Jake snorted dismissively. "He'll make a nice gelding."

"Jake!"

"One of us has to be realistic, and I know it's not gonna be you."

He sort of had a point there, but Sam still took it personally.

For once in his life, Jake elaborated. "If Wyatt's gonna keep him around, he's gonna have to be safe to be around- it'd be better if he was useful too, but with that leg, I wouldn't count on it."

Sam winced at his lack of sugarcoating, although Dr. Scott had more or less told her the same thing. It just hurt more to hear it from Jake for some reason. "I think I signed something promising to geld him anyway. BLM policy or whatever. He'll have to get freeze branded too."

There was a slight upturn to Jake's lips that indicated he found that amusing. "I'd be more worried about getting him halter broke."

"He was halter broke before. It can't be that hard."

Jake looked at her. Just looked at her. Sam relented. "Alright, he's royally pissed about being chased and captured, and he wants nothing to do with me, much less a halter. I have no idea where to start."

"That's where I come in," he said glumly.

"You're kidding me."

"Would I joke about that?"

"Maybe?" she tried. Although, Jake wasn't exactly known for his sense of humor. "Was it your idea?"

"Wyatt's. You think I signed up to play riding instructor all summer?"

"Obviously I'm flattered, but you should know it's not exactly what I wanted either," Sam grumbled, kicking Ace into a lope. She liked Jake, and she knew he knew more about horses than she did, but that didn't mean she wanted him intruding on her relationship with the Phantom. That was supposed to be hers and hers alone.

After all, Jake had been involved the first time around. And how well had that gone, exactly?

They rode in silence after that, until they got to Rowland's place, where they'd found the Phantom the day before. Sam hung back, letting Jake do his thing. She was no help where tracking was concerned, while he was a master. He could make something out of nothing and find anything in the world.

…anything except the dogs that had attacked the Phantom, apparently. Jake was able to pick up the stallion's trail and follow it for several miles, but eventually, it got too muddled up with other hoof prints. "This must be where he was last with the heard," Jake announced. "It's looking for a needle in a haystack. We're probably nowhere near the scene of the crime."

Sam did not love referring to the site of her horse's injury as a "crime scene". Although, given the opportunity, she would love to press charges.

"…but that don't mean we're in the wrong spot."

Sam didn't know what he meant until she quit trying to decipher hoof scuffs on the ground and looked up. Her breath caught in her throat- mustangs, a lot of him. And they were achingly familiar to her: two blood bays, a claybank dun, a stocky paint, and many more with colts at their heels. This was the Phantom's herd, except it wasn't his anymore. The band of mares was led by New Moon, his son who didn't have a speck of white on him.

Was it fair to resent a horse? Sam was aware the answer was "no", but it was still hard to watch the herd and its new leader without feeling a tiny bit resentful. This was where her horse belonged. And if she could just go back in time a few days…

"You can't make him explode just by looking at him." As always, Jake could basically read her mind. "Wouldn't help anyway. You got different problems."

"I should be happy to see them doing so well," she sighed, embarrassed by the lump in her throat. "…but I just miss him."

Jake scoffed and started to turn his horse. "Not like he's dead. Let's go."

"Wait."

Sam hadn't taken her eyes off the mustangs, specifically the black stallion in the lead. Moon was around four years old- young for a tame horse, middle-aged for a wild one- and he was the only one of the Phantom's offspring that showed no signs of graying out. Tempest got a little lighter every season, but Moon was still blackest-black, reminding Sam way too much of the Phantom when he was young.

If she could forget everything else and just watch the horses galloping, tails streaming behind them, there was something beautiful about them. A lot of beautiful things, actually.

"Alright," said Sam, once the horses had all gone by. "Let's go."

All things considered, the herd was doing well. Sam would take care of the Phantom, and Moon would take care of the mares. Which was kind of sexist if she thought about it. Some of the mares were older and more experienced than Moon- couldn't they take care of themselves?

Nature was stupid.

Sam and Jake were both quiet on the ride home. It was their usual comfortable silence, with maybe a slight side of brooding or disappointed. Neither of them said another word until they both had their horses untacked- Sam didn't know why Jake hadn't just rode straight home but she wasn't going to ask- and Sam was putting her saddle back on its stand. Jake showed up in the doorway, footsteps silent as always. "Let's look at those problems of yours."

"Mustangs, you mean?"

"Close enough."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Right this way, please."

"I know where they are."

She didn't answer, just shut the tack room door and led Jake out to the first of two mustangs. She started with Windy, thinking he was less of a sensitive subject and would maybe be easier to talk about. Not that talking to Jake was ever easy.

The two of them leaned on the fence, and Sam kept her mouth shut, trying to gauge Windy's reaction and predict Jake's commentary. That is, if Jake decided to grace her with commentary. More than likely, he'd just grunt and say "horse" and she'd be expected to know exactly what he meant by that.

Jake started out with a strong two words. "He's little."

"I'm not gonna ride him."

"For the best."

Sam wasn't sure if that was a jab at Windy's height or her ability to start a horse. She found she didn't really want to know. "He'll grow on you," Sam promised Jake, who had his eyes fixed on the gangly two year old in the round pen. His only reply was "mm".

Just once, Sam tried to see things as Jake saw them. She squinted and imagined she was older and wiser than she was, looking in at Windy. He was getting more comfortable with people every day; he no longer went flying as soon as they approached the fence. He still raised his head and trotted a few steps, but it was more for show now. Although he wasn't bold enough to approach the humans, he flicked an ear towards them once in a while, showing he was curious.

"He'll be easy," Jake deduced.

Sam wasn't quite sure if she agreed with that- Windy was pretty clearly a spitfire- but she couldn't really argue, either. Windy would be easy…compared to the Phantom. Convincing a horse to trust you for the first time was a whole lot simpler than repairing a bond that had been broken.

The Phantom proved that right as they approached. He flattened his delicately curved ears and trotted away, tail swishing. He wasn't scared, Sam knew. He was angry. And that was what gave him the potential to be dangerous.

"What happens if you go in?"

"I haven't," Sam admitted.

"Seriously!?"

"It's only been a day!" she replied defensively. "I thought it would be dangerous to go in with him! Normally you yell at me for doing dangerous stuff!"

"Yeah, but at this point it's kind of your thing." Jake didn't seem at all fazed by her outburst. "How do you feed him?"

Sam kicked the ground, embarrassed and perhaps worried he'd call her a coward. "I push it under the gate and pull it out with the pitchfork."

It was subtle, but Jake cracked a smile. "Congrats on not doing the dumb and impulsive thing for once in your life."

He really knew how to get under her skin. Sam felt her temper flare. "It wouldn't be dumb. He's my horse, and I'm not scared! Actually, I'll do it right-"

"Sam! Jake!"

Gram was waving at them from the front porch. "We should probably go see what she wants," Sam said, and they jogged to the house obediently. It was probably for the better- Sam would have forged onward in the name of proving a point, but jumping in with the Phantom would have been dumb and impulsive indeed.

"Yes, Gram?" Sam asked expectantly.

Her grandmother ignored her and turned to Jake instead. "Will you be joining us for dinner?"

Jake nodded stoically and Sam cursed inwardly. She felt that she had had enough Jake Time for the day. The two of them could only get along for so many hours at a time, and they were both reaching the end of that threshold.

They had to get used to each other again, find their footing. At least, that's the way Sam saw it.

She didn't get to argue. Gram expressed her delight by tugging both kids inside. "Good, you can help me cook, then. Sam, you get chopping tomatoes, alright?"

They were kept too busy to chit-chat, which was maybe a good thing. Sam had a lot on her mind already; she didn't need to add "the inner workings of Jake Ely" to that list. It was easier to just do what her grandma told her to do and prepare what would hopefully be the best tacos any of them had ever had.

By the time they all sat down to eat, things were starting to feel a bit more normal. That was how things were with Jake- he could be gone for six months straight, then slide back into the Forster family like he'd never been gone. He fit in so well with it was almost infuriating. Sam couldn't imagine tagging along to the Elys' family dinner and acting like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Maybe the problem was her.

"You told her?" Wyatt asked Jake.

Jake nodded shortly and shoved a whole taco in his mouth. That was one of the perks of mini tortillas.

Sam frowned. "Told me what?"

Wyatt cocked his head towards Jake. "You two're gonna be working together this summer."

"Oh. Yeah, he told me that." Her frown deepened. "I don't need that much help, though. I can do this on my own."

There was an awkward pause, as if everyone was trying to think of a way to avoid disagreeing with her.

"Sam," said Brynna. Her tone was so reasonable; Sam instantly knew she was going to say something completely unreasonable. "It's in the Phantom's best interest, don't you think? The sooner you get him haltered and tamed, the sooner you can treat his wounds."

"The Phantom doesn't like Jake," Sam pointed out. She didn't elaborate, knowing her theory of her horse resenting her friend because Jake took up so much of Sam's time would be dismissed as "silly" and "childish". "It'll just make it worse."

Somewhat reluctantly, Jake nodded along with her. The feeling was somewhat mutual between him and Blackie- perhaps even for the same reason.

"It's not like he has to be in the pen with you," Brynna reasoned, although Sam was no closer to seeing it her way than she had been before. "He can be a coach from the sidelines. For safety reasons."

Sam knew exactly what she meant by that. Jake was to be her babysitter, and she scowled. "You know I'm sixteen, right? That's a whole lot older than Jake was when we broke the horse the first time. I can figure this out on my own."

Jake pushed his chair back from the table. "I'll just go."

Gram half-heartedly told him he could stay, but Wyatt and Brynna didn't take their eyes off Sam. The front door opened and shut and they still kept staring her down.

"I don't need a babysitter," Sam stated. "You have to stop thinking of me as a little kid. And I definitely don't want Jake to-"

She cut herself off when she realized she didn't know exactly where that sentence was going. She didn't want Jake to think of her as a little kid? She didn't want Jake telling her what to do? Both of those things were true, but for whatever reason, she found herself struggling to articulate them out loud.

"He's not a babysitter, Sam!" her dad argued. "He's just there to make sure you don't get yourself killed!"

So that was it, then. They didn't trust her. They would probably never trust her. Sam was so hurt she could hardly see straight, but she excused herself before she could lose her temper. She shoved her boots on and escaped to the most comforting place she knew: the barn.

The summer sun was still plenty hot at six o'clock sharp, but Sam's temper cooled as soon as the screen door slammed behind her. It was hard to be angry when the Phantom was right in front of her, nostrils flared like he'd just sprinted a mile.

Jake hadn't gone home yet. He was leaning on the fence, eyes fixed on the white stallion. Majestic was the word Sam usually used to describe her Zanzibar, but it didn't seem fitting when you considered the limp and the enormous swollen knee.

There was a lot Sam wanted to say as she took her spot beside her friend. I'm sorry. It's not you I'm mad at. All I want is to prove myself. But none of those words were willing to come out either. She studied Jake as carefully as he was studying the Phantom, trying to guess what exactly was going through his head. It wasn't always easy to tell what Jake was thinking, but she had a good guess this time.

"You think it's a bad idea, don't you?"

"Hmm?" Jake replied.

Sam cocked her head towards the round pen. "Him. Bringing him here, saving him. You think it's a bad idea."

"Doesn't matter." As always, Jake avoided the question. "I know you. This is the only way it possibly could have worked out."