Her Colorado Cowboy

by Mindy Obenhaus

  The animal looked nothing at all like the powerful, intimidating creatures she was used to seeing. This horse was emaciated, its hair matted and baring what looked like open wounds. Its hooves were deformed.

  “What happened to it?” Colton’s gaze remained riveted to the horse.

  “She’s been neglected,” said Noah. “From the looks of things, for a pretty good while.”

  “Poor horsey.” Piper leaned into Lily, her bottom lip protruding.

  “That’s so sad,” said Megan.

  Noah eyed his father and brother. “We need to start her on antibiotics right away.”

  “I’ll get things set up.” Jude rushed past Lily and the kids on his way inside.

  “Call the vet, too,” Noah hollered after him.

  Try as she might, Lily couldn’t stop staring at the pathetic creature. Its dark eyes were almost...lifeless.

  “Dad, help me get her inside.” Noah held on to the horse. And no wonder. The poor thing struggled for each step.

  Lily’s stomach clenched at the sight. She might not be a fan of horses, but how someone could treat any of God’s creatures this way was beyond her comprehension.

  Noah continued to coax the horse. Patiently. Gently. The intensity in his eyes was like nothing Lily had ever seen before. “I’ve got you, girl. You’re gonna be all right.”

  Had truer words ever been spoken? Because anything or anyone in Noah’s care was in good hands. So why did she find that so difficult to accept?

  * * *

  Noah felt like a heel the next morning. He’d promised to help Lily yesterday. To at least begin to help her overcome her fear of horses. Instead, he’d spent all of Monday focused on this rescue horse. What else could he do, though? When these calls came, you had to do whatever needed to be done. If he’d ignored it, he’d have felt even worse.

  Yet thoughts of Lily continued to plague him. The way she’d hung around all day had him wondering if she wasn’t waiting for him to be done with the horse and start working with her. Perhaps feeling as though she’d taken second place. And to a horse, of all things.

  Noah wasn’t used to breaking his promises. But in this case, he hadn’t had much of a choice. He hoped Lily understood that. She seemed to, but then, maybe she was simply being polite.

  From his bed of hay in the corner of the horse’s stall, he looked up at the pitiful creature. With so much going on—trail rides, lessons and prepping for the rodeo school—he really didn’t need the addition of a rescue animal right now, but there was no way he could have turned it down, either. It’s a wonder this poor girl was even standing.

  If he lived to be a thousand, he’d never comprehend how people could be so cruel. Didn’t they realize that animals had feelings, too?

  Especially horses. When they were neglected or abused, their wounds went beyond the physical. And while the emotional scars might not be visible, they had the power to leave an animal unable to trust ever again.

  Thoughts of Lily again played across his mind. She’d been betrayed by someone she’d trusted, too. And he’d witnessed just how difficult it was for her to take him at his word. At first, it had bothered him that she’d questioned his integrity. Now, though, he had a better understanding.

  He leaned his back against the wooden wall, contemplating the horse. Earning this gal’s trust would be the hardest part of his job. Because judging by the look in her eyes, she’d all but given up.

  For the moment, though, he’d focus on her immediate physical needs and pray the mental recovery would follow.

  Movement outside the stall brought him to his feet. He was surprised when it was Lily’s face that appeared on the other side of the door. She’d had to walk past a lot of horses to get here.

  She wrapped her long fingers around the bars. “How’s she doing?”

  Approaching the door, he noticed that Lily looked tired. Her green eyes weary. As though she hadn’t slept well. Her long reddish-blond hair had been pulled into a ponytail that trailed down her back.

  “The vet gave her some electrolytes, but I still haven’t been able to get her to eat.”

  “That’s not good, is it?”

  “No. Even though she can only have a very small amount every few hours, her body badly needs the nourishment.” Realizing Lily had to stand on her tiptoes to see, he reached for the door and slid it aside. “You can join me.”

  She did but never took her eyes off the horse. Nor did the horse take her eyes off Lily. Both appearing more cautious than afraid.

  “Where are the kids?” He made more space for her.

  “Your dad intercepted them. Asked them if they wanted to ride out with him on the UTV to check cattle.”

  “I imagine they were all over that.”

  Lily’s laugh was soft. “Yes, they were.”

  He continued to watch her, seemingly unable to stop. “We didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday. Did you help Megan with the horses?”

  Still transfixed by the horse, she said, “I did.”

  “And?”

  “No panic attacks, if that’s what you’re getting at.” Hands tucked in the pockets of her jeans, she rocked back on the heels of her boots. “And only one momentary freak-out.”

  “What happened?”

  The pink in her cheeks heightened when she finally met his gaze. “I...thought one of the horses was trying to bite me.”

  “Uh-oh.” That would only add to her anxiety.

  She scrunched her nose. “I may have made a little noise before Megan informed me she was simply looking for a treat.”

  “Ah.” He relaxed then. “That would be Cookie.”

  “That’s the one.” Her focus returned to the horse. Like a mother watching a sick child. “Do you take in rescue animals very often?”

  “Only when necessary.” He swiped a sleeve across his brow. Having been here all night, he was coated in grit and probably didn’t smell that great, either. “It’s been a few years since we’ve had one.”

  “What’s going to happen to her?” Removing her hands from her pockets, she started to reach toward the animal, then withdrew.

  “Only time will tell. For now, we tend to her immediate health needs.”

  A horse nickered somewhere down the aisle, and another echoed in response.

  “I feel sorry for her.” Lily briefly glanced his way. “First to be treated so horribly, then to be taken to a strange place with people you don’t know.”

  “It’ll take time to earn her trust. She’s been hurt, so trusting won’t come easy.”

  “Looks like she and I have something in common.” Again, Lily reached out a hand.

  He took hold of it, directing her toward the animal’s head. “Let her smell you. Then you can stroke her nose.”

  Fear flickered in Lily’s eyes, but only for a moment. She took a step forward and did as he instructed.

  He watched the silent exchange between horse and woman. As though each recognized their own fears in the other.

  “You’re a good girl.” Lily cooed, stroking the animal’s muzzle. “But you need to eat, sweetheart. Otherwise you won’t get well.”

  Her words surprised Noah. They didn’t sound at all like someone who was afraid of horses. But of a mother talking to her child. And he had the strangest feeling the horse was responding.

  Reaching behind him, he grabbed a small handful of alfalfa. “Lily?”

  When she looked his way, he held out the feed.

  “See if you can get her to eat this.”

  She stared at him for a long while.

  He understood her hesitation. But if the horse would respond to her...

  Slowly, she held out her free hand, allowing him to give her the feed.

  Returning her attention to the horse, she again stroked its nose. “Shall we try eating a little something?
Not too much, just a little.” She brought her other hand to the animal’s mouth. “I hear this is good stuff.” Her voice was sweet. Almost childlike.

  Noah was pleased when the horse sniffed the alfalfa. Encouraged when she didn’t turn away. And he had to clamp his mouth shut to contain his excitement when the horse began to nibble.

  Lily turned wide eyes his way, her smile one of amazement. “She’s actually eating,” she whispered.

  “I know,” he whispered back, reaching for another handful.

  The horse ate that, too.

  “You did it, Lily.” He moved alongside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You got her to eat.”

  But Lily’s focus was still on the horse. “Good girl.” She ran a hand up the animal’s nose. “Doesn’t it feel good to get something in your tummy?”

  After a few more minutes, she stepped away. “I’d like to help take care of her. If that’s all right.”

  Speechless, he simply stared at the amazing woman before him. Not only was it all right, he had a feeling it would benefit her as much as the horse. And in the process, perhaps he could find a way to earn the trust of both.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lily wasn’t sure why she wanted—perhaps even needed—to care for this horse, yet something had compelled her. Maybe it was the desire to prove something to herself. That she was stronger than her fears.

  Of course, when she’d made that decision yesterday, her children weren’t with her. Now?

  “What’s her name?”

  Inside the stall, she looked from the malnourished rescue horse to her daughter, who was crouched in the corner, drawing hearts in the dirt floor with a piece of hay. “She doesn’t have one yet.” At least, she didn’t think so. She’d only heard Noah refer to the animal as “the rescue.”

  “We should give her one then.”

  Lily scooped a small amount of food from the pail she’d left outside the door.

  Somehow, the horse must have known what she was doing, recognized the sound or something, because when Lily turned around, those big, dark eyes were fixed on her. And though they weren’t menacing or anything, it was still a little unnerving.

  She swallowed hard as she moved slowly toward the horse and the plastic bucket attached to the wall.

  Midway, the horse bumped her arm with its nose.

  Lily felt her eyes widen as memories again flew to the forefront of her mind.

  While some of the feed spilled onto the floor, the remainder went flying through the air when Lily jumped. At least she managed to silence her scream before it escaped.

  Standing, Piper giggled, wrapping her arms around her middle and doubling over. “You looked funny, Mommy.”

  How embarrassing.

  “She startled me, that’s all.” Lily glared at the animal that was now eating the feed off the floor. That’s when it dawned on her. The horse wasn’t trying to get to her—she simply wanted to eat.

  Boy, did she feel like an idiot. “You’re hungry, aren’t you, girl?” She stroked the animal’s head, knowing that was a good sign.

  She promptly grabbed another small scoop, this time managing to get it into the feed bucket. And as the horse continued to eat, she couldn’t help smiling. Who would have imagined that, with all of Noah’s knowledge and love for horses, she’d be the one to get the animal to eat?

  They’d spent the rest of yesterday going over how to care for the horse. Small feedings every few hours, water, tending her wounds and plenty of TLC.

  Strange, for as much as she disliked horses, she found the loving part the easiest. Probably because this animal needed so much of it.

  “Mommy?”

  “I’m sorry, Piper. What is it?”

  “We need to give the horse a name.”

  She took a step back, tugging her daughter with her, giving the animal space. “Okay, what do you think we should name her?”

  “We could give her a princess name, like the twin horsies Megan showed me. She named them Elsa and Anna.”

  “I see.” Lily wondered how the guys felt about that. “In that case, two princess names are probably enough.” Leaning against the wooden wall, she continued to watch as the rescue finished the food and moved to the water. Good girl.

  Turning to face her daughter, she said, “Do you have any other suggestions?”

  The girl’s face contorted. “Let me think.”

  “All right. And while you do that, I’m going to check this horse’s wounds.” When she’d first seen the animal, she’d thought it was covered in sores. Yet once Noah gave her a good washing with some medicated soap, Lily realized that most of what she’d thought were wounds was actually dirt.

  Approaching the horse, she began to second-guess herself. Maybe she should wait and do this when her daughter wasn’t here to watch her. She’d already made a fool of herself once. She’d hate to do it again.

  Smoothing a hand down the animal’s side, she winced at the defined outline of each and every rib. This is so wrong.

  “You know, Piper, when this gal stepped out of that trailer yesterday, I never would have guessed she had such a pretty honey-colored coat. Would you?”

  Her daughter gasped. “That’s it, Mommy.”

  She must have missed something. “What’s it?”

  “Her name.” Piper moved closer with no fear whatsoever. “Honey.”

  Lily looked from Piper to the horse. The color of the hair, the animal’s seemingly sweet disposition... “I think it’s perfect. We’ll have to run it past Noah, though.”

  “Run what past me?” He appeared in the doorway of the stall, his cowboy hat tilted back, his work shirt dusty.

  “Honey.” Piper beamed and practically bounced out the word.

  He looked confused. “You’re going to run past me with honey?”

  The girl giggled. “No, silly. The horse. Her name should be Honey.”

  “Oh.” He eyed the animal a moment. “It fits.” He again looked at her daughter. “Honey it is then. Good job, Piper.” He held out his fist.

  The girl bumped it with her own. “Mommy helped, too.”

  “Well, in that case—” He turned his attention to Lily. “Good job, Mom.”

  “Mommy?” For whatever reason, her daughter was suddenly wearing a pouty face.

  “What is it, sweetie?”

  “I’m hungry.”

  She wasn’t surprised, given that the child had barely touched her eggs this morning.

  “Well, guess what, kiddo?”

  Tilting her head, Piper looked up at Noah, curious.

  “Miss Hillary just brought us a big ol’ pan of cinnamon rolls from Granny’s Kitchen.”

  Her daughter’s blue eyes flickered back to life as she licked her lips. “I like cinnamon rolls.”

  “Why don’t you run on up to the office and get one then.” He watched as she darted out of the stall. “And make sure my dad doesn’t eat them all.”

  “Wash your hands first,” Lily called after her. When she turned back around, she observed how much more rested Noah appeared this morning. “You sure made her day.”

  “I do what I can.” He eyed the horse. “How’s it going in here?”

  Shoving her hands into the back pockets of her faded jeans, she decided not to tell him about the little mishap with the feed. “Good, I think. She seemed quite eager to get her food.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. Have you checked her wounds?”

  “No, I was just about to.”

  “Good. Why don’t you go ahead and do that while I’m here?”

  Great, another opportunity to potentially embarrass herself.

  “Oh, and I talked to the farrier.” He retrieved the equine first-aid kit from the wall just outside the stall. “He’s going to try to get out here this afternoon or tomorrow to start wo
rking on her—on Honey’s hooves.”

  She glanced down at the animal’s misshapen feet. “That is kind of gross.”

  “I know.” He opened the plastic box. “It’s also not good for the horse.” Pulling out some gauze pads and a tube of ointment, he handed them to her. “I’m ready when you are.”

  Hmm...how much time do you have?

  Taking the items into her hand, she drew in a bolstering breath and moved to Honey’s hindquarter.

  “Any sign of blood?”

  “A little, maybe.” She stood on her tiptoes for a closer look.

  “Wipe it with the gauze. Any blood will show up there.”

  She loosened a couple of squares from the stack, pressed them against Honey’s hair and started to wipe the wound. The horse’s skin twitched beneath her fingers.

  Honey jerked her head in Lily’s direction.

  “Oh, my!” Her hands shot into the air. She dropped everything and pressed her back against the wall, her heart beating like a bass drum against her ribs. “What just happened?”

  Noah reached for Honey’s halter, shaking his head. “That was my fault.”

  “Your fault?”

  “Sorry about that. I should have held on to her so she couldn’t jerk like that.”

  “Why did she jerk?” Lily cautiously bent to pick up the gauze and ointment.

  “Your kids ever fuss when you’re doctoring a scrape or cut?”

  “Yes.” She rose slowly, her hands shaky.

  “Same thing. Honey here was simply reacting.”

  Lily shook her head, trying to understand. “So, you knew she was going to do that?”

  “Suspected, yes.” His matter-of-fact response grated her already frazzled nerves.

  “You suspected she might do something yet you not only didn’t hold her, you failed to warn me?” Her breathing intensified.

  He scratched his head then, looking rather sheepish. “When you put it like that...”

  “How could you do that to me?” She took two steps in his direction, her gaze narrowed. “You know better than anyone how terrified I am of horses.”

  “I said I was sorry.”