“If you’d behave yourself, you wouldn’t be put in time-out,” noted J.J., sounding so much like Char’s big sisters that Char had to add her piece.
“We all outgrow time-out, Liam.”
He lifted his brows, encouraged, and Char smiled at him. “It’s part of growing up. Do you help with the horses?”
Another look of disappointment darkened his face. “I want to but Grandma says I’m too quick and they’re quicker yet.”
“He helps with chickens over at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, up the road.”
“They smell,” Liam told her. “Like, really bad.”
“Especially during rainy times,” Char noted.
The boy wrinkled his nose and nodded as she administered the first dose of antibiotic. Then she offered Ginger a quick dose of dewormer.
“We had turkeys on our horse farm down south,” she explained. “It was a thing with my grandfather, to give turkeys as gifts in November. And in those long, hot and humid days of summer, tending the turkeys was not a whole lot of fun.”
Liam smiled when she flashed him a look of commiseration. “When is her baby due?” he asked. “Like soon?”
“Pretty soon. I can’t tell exactly, but I’d say sooner rather than later.” She finished the parasite application and tucked the empty vial back into her pocket. “We’ll do some measurements tomorrow.”
“Then I’ll skip camp and stay here to help,” J.J. declared.
Isaiah’s face stayed calm, but his voice pitched down. “Jodie June, I do believe we’ve discussed this.”
“You discussed it by telling me what to do, but you know this changes things, Uncle Isaiah,” the girl insisted. “She needs someone checking on her and caring for her. She’s got to be more important than equine camp, isn’t she?”
“Except the camp is paid for and you made a commitment. And we don’t take commitments lightly. But the horse does raise a significant problem these next few weeks.” Isaiah turned toward Char. “J.J.’s gone during the day and I’m knee-deep in work with hay and oats, on top of caring for our herds and dealing with scheduled visits of potential buyers. I can install a mare camera in here, but with her deterioration she shouldn’t be left without regular supervision. Would it be possible to hire your services for the next few weeks, between your other patients? Stop over here, supervise her care, make sure we’re not missing something vital because we’re busy?”
Char knew how easily that could happen during crunch time on a farm or ranch. “I’d be happy to.”
He didn’t smile, but he did look relieved. “Good. J.J., can you go check the pasture troughs for me?”
The girl gave a reluctant look to Ginger, but nodded as she moved toward the broad door. “Sure. I’ll make sure they’re clean, too.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Hey, Rising.” J.J. motioned to the big red dog. “Wanna come?”
The dog trotted after her, clearly at home. The slight swagger to his movements suggested his importance to the farm and this family. “Pretty dog.”
“That’s Rising,” Liam told her. “He was my dad’s dog.”
“Rising, huh?” She aimed a quizzical look at Liam. “How’d he get such a cool name?”
“Red Moon Rising,” said Isaiah. “My brother picked the puppy out of a litter up in McCall, and that night he saw a red moon rising so he used an old custom of integrating nature into the name.”
“But you don’t call him ‘Red,’ which would have been most people’s choice of a call name, wouldn’t it?”
“Probably. Andrew got the dog to round out our family, and he saw the dog and the horses and this growing farm as a new hope rising. So that’s why we started calling him ‘Rising’ and it stuck.”
It wasn’t just a good reason to nickname the dog. It was a great one.
Isaiah had turned back toward the boy. “And, Liam, how was summer school today?”
The boy’s face answered that clearly.
“That bad, huh?”
“I don’t know why I have to go to stupid summer school when almost everybody else in the whole world has vacation. I think Grandma just wants me out of the way.”
“Liam—”
“I think you know it, too,” the boy went on, “because little boys are too busy, too noisy and too pesky.”
“Are you?” asked Char.
“Am I what?”
“Too busy, noisy and pesky?”
He frowned. “Sometimes. I guess. I just don’t like being alone mostly.”
Oh, she understood that kind of a problem too well. “So the good side of summer school is not being alone. The bad side is that it’s school, right?”
“Half days. Then lunch. Then nothing but me stuck at Grandma’s. With the chickens.” He shoved his two little hands into his pocket and trudged off, the image of a lonely child.
“Ouch.”
Isaiah winced, watching him.
“So, Isaiah.” She was probably going to regret what she was about to do, and she went right ahead and did it, anyway.
“Yes?”
“Here’s the plan. You do whatever is needed first thing in the morning. Text me an update. Then I’ll come around late morning and hang out. What time does his bus bring him back?”
He followed her gaze toward Liam. “You mean Liam?”
“Yes.”
“No bus, we carpool with one of the other families whose kids take summer classes. He gets dropped off at eleven fifty, but he’ll be with my mother, up the road. And she’s not going to let him come down here and help you. Not at his age.”
“So, your mother is his guardian?”
That question got his full attention. “No. I am.”
“Then as his guardian, why not bring him over here for the afternoons?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Only if you make it complicated,” she supposed. She walked toward her van as she spoke. “A simple ‘yes’ could make it quite easy. He’d be company for me and out of Grandma’s hair.”
His face went tight. “My mother loves Liam.”
“Even though he’s busy, noisy and pesky.”
She knew she hit a nerve when his eyes narrowed.
“Just a thought,” she told Isaiah as she climbed in and started the van. “He’s obviously lonely and sad and wishes life was different. I thought a change of pace might be good for him.” She pulled away, but when she glanced into the rearview mirror, he was standing there. Not watching her. Not watching anything, really. Just standing there, looking as sad as the little red-haired boy now sitting quietly on the beautiful front porch.
* * *
So, she thought changing things up with his mother would be easy?
Dealing with his mother was never simple. Stella Woods was a stubborn personality, from tough Native American roots, and when it came to children, she drew a firm line. Especially with boys.
That realization cost him sleep that night.
She was tougher on Liam than J.J. He’d chalked that up to maturity, but the veterinarian’s words were a wake-up call.
Liam wasn’t a happy child. He didn’t act out. He didn’t pester others. He loved to ask questions, and Isaiah liked answering questions, so that worked out well. But there was clearly a problem with the boy’s current situation. Unhappy in school. Unhappy at his grandmother’s. Unhappy with summer.
He climbed out of bed early the next morning. J.J. was already up and at the barn, checking on Ginger. The stall was freshened up. So was the hay and the water trough. She was inside the stall with the emaciated horse, whispering encouragement while she ran a gentle brush over the horse’s body. “You beat me here.”
She flashed him a resigned smile. “I wanted some time with her before Mrs. Rodriguez picks me up. I know I need to go to camp.” She kept her voic
e soft as she stroked the horse’s side and back with the soft bristles. “But I don’t want to leave her alone.”
“I’ll be close by for the next few hours. And I got the camera installed last night.” He motioned to the inter-barn system they used to monitor pregnant mares in the big barns. “I can keep an eye on her even if I’m not right here. And the doctor’s coming later this morning.”
“I’m glad she wasn’t afraid to try to help the horses after Dr. Hirsch wanted them all put down.”
“You heard that?”
“Yes. So did Brian and Jamie and Alex.”
Her three best friends on the planet, and they all liked to talk, especially when it came to anything equine-related. “Professionals don’t always agree on things,” he reminded her. “And she seems to realize this is a dicey business for all of these horses, but for Ginger in particular.”
“Well, I like her. She’s not afraid to speak her mind.”
J.J. was right about that, but Isaiah wasn’t stupid. Going against Braden would have repercussions that could ripple across the tightly knit horse community and make things difficult for the new veterinarian. Braden had friends on ranches and farms, and a few in high places, and he wouldn’t be afraid to use them.
He was also close with Isaiah’s parents. He’d grown up next door to Isaiah’s mother. Their families did everything together. On top of that, he knew everything about Ginger. Before too long Isaiah’s parents would realize he was helping an old foe. And there would be reckoning.
His reckoning. And theirs.
He owed the horse. From the moment he realized who was lying in that field, he understood his need to face the guilt of the past.
A text from the veterinarian buzzed in. He opened it as he went back to the house to get Liam to school. How’s she doing?
Holding her own, he texted back. Still eating and drinking. All functions appear to be working.
Good. ETA eleven.
I’ll monitor until then.
A thumbs-up emoji came back to him. He put away the phone and smiled.
He stopped smiling when he spotted Liam’s face smooshed against the front window, as if dreading the day.
Should he be forced to go to summer school? Was third-grade reading readiness that important? What if he was just a late bloomer?
How many battlefronts can you maintain at once?
Isaiah heard his grandfather’s voice in the mental question.
Adam “Gray Cloud” Woods knew people even better than he knew horses, and no one knew horses better than him. He died too young—Isaiah could use a dose of that aged wisdom right about now.
“Do I have to go, Uncle Isaiah?”
The fact that Liam didn’t cry, whine or carry on should have made the decision to say yes easier.
The opposite was true because a healthy, happy boy might have raised a ruckus about being shipped off to the three-week program geared to help students who were struggling in school. His quiet resignation showed how unhappy he was.
Would he mess up Liam’s future by keeping him home? Keeping him here? Was he tempted to baby the boy because he’d been orphaned over two years before and still seemed to be floundering?
Yes. Which meant he should send him. “Not much longer, pal. Then you’ll have almost a month of summer vacation left.”
Liam said nothing.
Chin down, he got up from his seat at the broad kitchen island and picked up his backpack.
“Do you have your snack?”
A quiet nod. Then the boy walked slowly to the car.
Silent sadness.
The very worst kind, Isaiah realized as he climbed into the driver’s seat. The kind that wore a person down like water on rock. It could either smooth out rough edges or turn the rock into sand. Which was it doing to his brother’s precious son? He longed for the former, but something inside of Isaiah sensed that the boy’s hopes and dreams were being withered away, and he wasn’t at all sure what to do about it.
Chapter Three
“So, you’ve managed to rile up the horse community, insult the local veterinary surgeon and tackle an impossible task in less than forty-eight hours.” Melonie Fitzgerald Middleton raised a coffee mug in mock salute to Char when the three sisters gathered in the Pine Ridge Ranch kitchen early that morning. “Well done. Even I didn’t ruffle that many Idaho feathers my first forty-eight hours in town. It might be a Fitzgerald record.”
Charlotte poured a mug of coffee and frowned. “I blame Lizzie. She read Ty Carrington’s text about the horses and called me instantly. Totally her fault. I could have stayed in the stable apartment and been clueless. And blameless.”
“Feel free to thank me, dearest, because you did the right thing.” Lizzie looped an arm around Char’s shoulders and hugged her. “While Braden Hirsch has been the go-to man for decades, he’s not up on the newest things in horse care, and we need someone well-schooled in current findings. Uncle Sean put a lot of money and love into our equine barns, and I want solid medicine on my side. Which means I’m hoping you’ll stay, little sister.”
Lizzie had taken over management of their late uncle’s fledgling horse-breeding business, an amazing enterprise modeled after the choicest Irish horse farms. While the girls’ father had squandered his wealth and position in Kentucky, Uncle Sean had come north to make his own way in the world. And he’d done well. Char had moved into the apartment above the horse stables when she arrived. Lizzie had lived there before she married Heath Caufield, her old love and the farm manager. Then Mel had occupied the two-room living space until she fell head over heels in love with Jace Middleton and his two baby nieces. Now it was Char’s place to call home while she tested the Western Idaho waters.
“Heath and I are thrilled to have you on board, Char. This could be the perfect opportunity for you. God’s opened a big door, ready for you to shine.”
“Or some horrible person neglected a crowd of lovely animals and I was in the right place at the right time,” Char mused. She sent Lizzie a wry look. “Science refuses to bear out your lofty celestial ideas, sis. But I respect your right to have them.”
“Didn’t DNA testing recently indicate that all men are related to one man? One single man from way back when?” asked Melonie. “That’s gotta count for something, Char, when science proves the book of Genesis to be correct.”
“Darlings, I love you.” Melonie and Lizzie had both taken their coffees to the angled breakfast bar separating the wide kitchen from the equally wide dining room. “But it’s too early to be throwing down this kind of talk—although you’re both praying women—so I’d appreciate it if you prayed for these horses. It’s a sad and sorry bunch they are, and I’d like to meet the person who let them get into this kind of shape.”
“It’s heartbreaking, for sure. And you said one of them is in foal?”
“An old mare with local history and a sad face. But she perked right up when she heard Isaiah Woods talking.” Char sipped her coffee as she double-checked her leather bag. “Like one of those old-time reunion stories that make great movies.”
“I love those movies.” Melonie put a hand to her heart.
“Me, too,” added Lizzie. “But I think talk time is over,” she said as Corrie brought Ava and Annie their way. “Zeke never sleeps long once Mel brings the girls over for Corrie to watch.”
“I’m ducking out quickly, then,” said Char. “I’ll play with them when I get home tonight, but if I hang around, I’ll never want to leave, and duty calls.”
“Go in peace.” Lizzie paused and gave Char a big hug. “I love you. I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” Melonie reached up for a hug as Char went by. “See you tonight. And I’ll be praying, Char. For you and the horses.”
“I’ll take all the help I can get.” Char began her rounds up near McCall to check out the horse You
ng Eagle took home. Then she came back south, ran by the Carrington Ranch and then on to the horse-rescue farm just south of Council. When she finished she had just enough time to get back to Dancing Meadows. She pulled into the drive, parked and opened up the sliding side door of the mobile clinic. She didn’t look around for Isaiah. She was here to see the horse. Nothing more. But when she spotted him coming her way, her heart jumped, so she tamped it right back down before he reached the barn.
“Right on time.”
She carried a small tray of supplies into the barn and set it next to Ginger’s stall. “I like being punctual, but I may have driven somewhat too quickly on that last stretch. I should have realized that curvy, winding mountain roads slow one’s pace.”
“And there’s no such thing as a New York minute in Idaho.”
“Well, I’m a blend of Old South and New York, busy so I’ve become my own conundrum,” she admitted. “We’ll see if I can reconcile the polar opposites here in the Great Northwest. Oh, sweet thing.” She moved into the horse’s stall with a sigh. “You look unhappy.”
The horse blew out a breath. Her eyes watered, and then she stomped her back left foot twice before reaching around with her head toward her belly.
“Bellyache.” Isaiah folded his arms like he’d done the day before. “Did we overfeed her, or is there something else going on?”
“With a horse in her condition, there could be a lot of things going on,” she told him honestly. “We’ll start with simple fixes first. Her digestive tract is oversensitive because of what she’s been through, so let’s change things up. No hay right now. We can walk her for five minutes every couple of hours. That way she grazes on fresh grass, but not too much. We’ll keep the water in her trough on the tepid side to prevent cold-water cramping. The fresh grass will help reactivate the stomach so the intestines can do their job.”
“I should have thought of that, but J.J. was out here early to take care of her.”
“And no parent wants to discourage industry like that.”
Healing the Cowboy's Heart Page 3