“I won’t go back there. I promise. Not without Uncle Isaiah.”
“Thank you, little buddy.” Isaiah looped an arm around his shoulders. “I’ve got to go fix a broken belt on the baler. You want to tag along?” he asked the boy.
Liam’s face lit up. “Yes!” He sloshed his rubber boots in the trough, then started for the equipment barn.
“Hands, too, Liam. Germs are tiny, but they’re all over the place.”
“But there aren’t any horses in that barn.” The dark red metal barn stood off to the side, and the gleam of well-kept equipment was apparent from this angle.
“But if we take germs to that barn, and then someone goes to the horse pasture...”
Liam slapped a hand to his forehead. “Then the germs go to the horses!”
“Exactly.”
Liam didn’t just wash his hands. He scrubbed them while Isaiah checked the mare-cam settings and alarm system. When the boy was done, he used the heavy-duty paper towels to dry them. He waited until Isaiah motioned, then he hurried to his side. He reached up.
Isaiah reached down.
Their hands clasped, and the sight of the big, dark-haired cowboy and the red-haired little boy didn’t just touch her heart. It grabbed hold and wouldn’t let go. His love for the boy and Liam’s love for him...
She’d craved that feeling for so long. The love of a father figure, like so many of her friends had enjoyed. Seeing it between Isaiah and Liam satisfied her. She’d read the longing in Liam’s eyes the previous day. They moved off, but then Isaiah looked back as they curved along the gravel drive. He didn’t nod. Didn’t say anything. Didn’t tip the brim of his tan cowboy hat. He simply met her gaze for long, slow seconds.
Strong. Caring. Quiet.
She’d read fictional stories about kind, nurturing men, but hadn’t come across all that many in real life. And when she did, they were either married or old enough to be her grandfather.
Isaiah was neither, but the last thing she needed or wanted was more family drama, and Dancing Meadows had a lion’s share of it. Been there. Done that. Overrated.
She went back to Ginger and cooed soft words to the emaciated mare. And when it was time to take the horse for another turn around on fresh grass, she attached the lead and opened the door.
A lot of horses in this condition would have stormed the door, anxious for food.
Not this one.
Ginger plodded along, and as they moved into the greener area, she huffed a breath, reached out and laid her equine cheek against Char’s shoulder in a gesture of trust.
Char paused. She reached up and stroked the horse’s face and neck, murmuring words of comfort. And when she looked up, over the horse’s downturned nose, Isaiah was watching from the equipment shed. Was he watching her? Or the horse?
Both, she decided.
He smiled.
Not at the horse. At her. And although she knew she shouldn’t, she held his gaze across the long drive. And then she smiled back.
* * *
“How is Ginger doing?” J.J. bounded to the truck as soon as Isaiah pulled into the riding-academy loop later that afternoon. “Is she hanging in there? Did she deliver?”
“Yes and no and you can see for yourself in a few minutes,” he told her as she scrambled into the passenger side of the front seat.
“I got to help walk her,” announced Liam from the back seat. “Char let me open the doors and we walked her around the grass and let her eat. And then we let her rest. And then eat again. I think I would be like so bored if that’s all I had to do,” he finished.
“We’ve got to take things slow so we don’t make her sicker,” J.J. told him. She turned back to Isaiah. “What did Char say? What did she do? And aren’t you glad to have a new young doctor around that wants to try new things with horses?”
Isaiah treaded lightly. “New things have their place, but there’s a reason our people developed an amazing line of horses, J.J. Because they listened with their ears and watched with their eyes and learned from their experiences. They bred for specific qualities long before there were animal doctors on the scene.”
“Well, Char’s grandpa and great-grandpa were horse breeders. Big ones. In Kentucky.” J.J. spoke in quick, short spurts as she munched a handful of trail mix and held up her phone for him to see. Except he was driving and figured paying attention to the road was more important than whatever app she’d stumbled on.
“Did you stalk her online?”
“It’s not stalking when all you have to do is put the Fitzgerald name in, and boy, did a lot come up. Not so much about her,” she went on when he sent a surprised look her way. “But her family. Her dad’s supposed to be in prison, Isaiah. Not the local lockup like you get for running over Grady Bursten’s prize roses.”
“Well, they did win the blue ribbon at last year’s Western Idaho Fair.” He grinned her way. “Grady was mighty proud of those flowers, and Billy Warbler was their total undoing.”
“Well, this was big stuff with Char’s dad,” she told him, and she stressed the word big. “Millions of dollars, not a few twenty-dollar bushes. He took the money and ran off overseas. And they all had to declare bankruptcy, the publishing business and the family.”
Isaiah didn’t ask what happened to the three daughters.
He’d just figured that part out. That explained why Sean Fitzgerald had bequeathed his sprawling ranch to the three nieces. Sean had been a man of valor. Clearly his brother—the women’s father—was not. Now all three were here, in Adams County. “She seems to know her stuff.” He turned into their drive as he spoke. He didn’t add that it was a good thing because he was pretty sure Braden wouldn’t be passing a peace pipe anytime soon. Could her veterinary business survive with three clients? Him. The Carringtons, owners of Carrington Acres neighboring the Fitzgerald spread. And Pine Ridge? Probably not. “That’s what matters.”
“Do you think Ginger will be all right?” J.J. posed the question when he rolled to a stop not far from the back door of the log house. “Does she have a good chance?”
He wasn’t about to get J.J.’s hopes up. She and her brother had gone through enough disappointment. “I can’t say. Pregnancy puts a major strain on the body, but the doctor says there’s a shot. So we take that shot and see what happens.”
“Can I go straight down?” J.J. set her gear on the back porch and jumped the rail. She landed softly in the grass below. “I can help with dishes after.”
“I’m not one to refuse an offer of help like that. You take the evening shift. I’ll bring supper down and load the dishes. Take your brother with you.” When she started to frown, he folded his arms.
The frown disappeared. “I will. You guys were teaching me all kinds of things at his age. Come on, Liam.” She called to him as she crossed the drive. “Wanna help with Ginger?”
“Yes!” He didn’t shout.
That was Char’s influence and it was a good one.
He watched them go as he ignited the propane grill. He’d have preferred a wood fire, but there wasn’t time to build a fire, tend it, make supper, care for the animals and raise the kids.
Propane was easy, but it gave him time to consider J.J.’s words. You guys were teaching me...
They’d been a unit then. Him. Andrew. His sister-in-law, Katie, and the kids. His father and Gray Cloud talking, planning, seeing to the business of redeveloping the best Nez Percé horses they could with help and advice from his veterinarian godfather. They’d shared chores and dreams.
Then Gray Cloud passed away and Andrew and Katie were lost in a late-night crash on their way back from a friend’s wedding, obscuring hopes and dreams in the ashes of grief.
But now—
A horse whinnied from the broodmare barn. He looked up and saw his father and Braden and Braden’s brother exiting the barn. Steven Hirsch was th
eir representative in the state legislature. He had a small spread with half a dozen horses closer to Boise.
Two paths diverged from the pastoral setting. One came toward the home he’d built five years before. The other veered southeast toward his parents’ place. The men took that path, and not one of them looked his way.
Funny how the very thing that gave him hope was the thing that divided their family. A horse, given a second chance. A chance others would have denied her.
Fortunately it wasn’t their decision, but being sequestered from his family stung. They’d already been through the wringer. Was he making it better or worse with his actions?
He wasn’t sure but the thought of standing by while Braden put Ginger down stung deeper. The humans involved had options. The horse was at the mercy of those choices, and in all situations Isaiah ranked compassion first.
When the burgers were done, he made a plate of three sandwiches, a bowl of chips and a pitcher of lemonade.
They ate in the old barn, with the aged horse, and when the kids were done eating, no one whined about chores or work or their day. How could they when they sat in the company of a sorely neglected animal? An animal who never uttered a peep of dismay.
When they’d put their stuff away, J.J. let Liam take lead, walking the mare. She snapped a few pictures of them together, then sent them off with a few strokes of her thumbs. “Are you sending those to the kids at camp?” he asked when she pocketed the phone.
She shook her head. “To Char. I want her to see how well Ginger’s doing. And she’ll be happy to see Liam leading her.”
It would make her happy, he realized.
Why did that matter?
It shouldn’t, he scolded himself as the kids walked Ginger around the fenced-in paddock. He was already knee-deep in muck with family. Welcoming a Fitzgerald into the realm would only make things worse.
But her opinion did matter. Maybe because she pointed out what he should have seen. That Liam needed a chance to spread his wings. To be a boy.
It shouldn’t have taken the words of a stranger to make him see that, but it had. And when that stranger texted back a happy-face emoji, J.J. held it up for him to see. “She’s proud of us! And she says we should leave the top Dutch door open tonight. There’s a nearly full moon and horses love the moon.”
They did.
His did, anyway. And most folks didn’t know that about horses. That the extra light brought out the best in them.
“She says the Idaho moon is good, but the Kentucky moon is better.”
He grinned.
“The farther south you go,” J.J. kept reading, “the closer you are to heaven.”
“And closer to Mom and Dad!” Liam punched the air. “I knew horses were smart. I knew it!”
Isaiah’s heart melted with the boy’s earnest words. What a wretched thing to have life changed up so utterly and completely, with nothing to be done about it.
Isaiah roughed up the boy’s carrot-toned hair. “The horses have nothing on you, kid.”
Liam made a skeptical face. “I don’t think smart kids go to summer school.”
“Sure they do,” countered Isaiah. “Because they want to stay smart. You’ll be done in two weeks and you can practice your reading with me over August. All right?”
“And I’ll read to her.” Liam watched as Ginger rubbed against the walls of the big stall. “And her baby. I can come down here and sit on the fence and tell them stories about lots of things.”
“I expect they’d like that.”
The thought of reading to the horses made Liam smile, and that smile eased another pang of worry from Isaiah’s shoulders. Liam had smiled more today than he had in the last month.
Was that because of the horse, the spunky veterinarian or just being allowed to be a boy—moving, running, jumping?
Maybe all three, but it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was seeing both his nephew and the horse safe. He was okay with that.
Chapter Five
“The Adams County Rodeo is coming up and I promised Zeke we’d go.” Lizzie spooned food into little Ava’s mouth while Corrie fed her identical twin, Annie. “We should all go.” She looked up at Char, then Melonie. “It’s good to support local efforts and I love the change of pace of rodeo.”
Melonie had horse issues from an accident years before, but she agreed as she made fresh coffee. “I’ll do anything for Zeke-man,” she told them. “If I go into duck-and-cover mode, don’t be surprised. But rodeo food is enough to make me say yes. Fried dough?” She pretended to swoon. “Be still my heart!”
“Aren’t you supposed to be at Gilda’s now?” Gilda’s house was the big renovation that brought Melonie and Jace together the month before. Char looked at the clock. “It’s nearly nine.”
“I’m consulting on a new project today, on Main Street in Shepherd’s Crossing,” Melonie replied. “They’re remodeling an old building into a professional office space and asked me to meet with them. A spark of life for our quiet village.”
The little town could use Melonie’s help. The number of closed businesses and empty houses didn’t bode well for the locals. “Is this where they steal your ideas, make them their own and pay you nothing?” asked Char as she packed two protein bars into her bag.
“You leave those suspicions back east, darling.” Melonie hugged her, then kissed the babies one at a time. “Welcome to the West, Char. Where good men actually keep their word.”
Char sent her a look of disbelief as Melonie hurried out the door. “Please tell me she doesn’t really believe that?”
Lizzie scrunched her face. “I have to say I’ve seen it with my own eyes, so yes. She means it. And I think that double-wedding thing validated her claim.” Melonie and Lizzie had shared a wonderful Western-barbecue Independence Day wedding, and spent their time grinning like newlyweds whenever their new husbands were around. It was absolutely wonderful and amazingly annoying all at once.
“Heath and Jace are good guys,” Char agreed, “but I’m not sure if that’s the norm or just a fortunate turn because things couldn’t go more downhill than they did last year.”
“Things can always go more downhill, darling girl.” Corrie kept her attention on the nearly one-year-old baby but her words were for Char. “And still we move forward. We strive, as the good Lord intended. Even if we shake our fist at the clouds from time to time.”
“Corrie, I have known you every day of my twenty-six years.” Char leaned down and kissed Corrie’s soft brown cheek. “And I don’t think you’ve ever shaken your fist at anything. It’s one of the most amazing truths there is.”
“I’ve done my share.” This time Corrie looked up. “When unrighteousness hurts my girls, or when sin takes precedence over family, or greed interferes with the joys of life, I have made my feelings known to God in no uncertain terms. But telling him my feelings is different than blaming him for the weakness of men. Some are good. Some aren’t. Our job is to bide our time until the right one comes along. And then to be open-minded enough to see.”
“Wise as always. I’m off to do the rounds of the rescues. If by chance I get any calls on the ranch phone, can you give them my cell number?”
“Happy to do so,” Lizzie told her. “And I don’t want you worried if it takes a while to build a client base here after that bust-up with Braden. You’ve got three horse owners who will gladly hire your services.”
“Which I appreciate,” Char replied as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “But starting off being blackballed wasn’t exactly how I saw this going down. On the other hand, I do like a good fight.”
“There is truth in those words,” muttered Corrie, and Lizzie laughed.
“I’ll keep spreading the word. And if I weasel out time to get a weekly newspaper going, we can do a feature article on the new mobile veterinary service in town. My go
al is to start with a Labor Day edition and go from there.”
“That’s six weeks away. Can you pull that off?”
Corrie snorted and Char grinned because this was Lizzie, and Lizzie never let anything stand in her way. “I retract my foolish question. You’re a Fitzgerald and it’s publishing. In this case the two are inseparable.”
“Horses and news. And pretty girls.” Corrie rubbed her forehead to Annie’s and the little girl laughed out loud. “Time marches on.”
It did, Char agreed as she started the van a few minutes later. Her life had taken an abrupt one-eighty, and she’d been so upset by that...
Well, that and the lying, scheming boyfriend who tried to implicate her in his underhanded horse trading back in Central New York. A scheme that cost him his chance at a veterinary license and a huge fine.
Suspicion and doubt had become her new mantra. If people wanted her trust, they had to earn it. And even then she would proceed with caution, so why did she want to throw caution to the wind the minute she spotted Isaiah coming her way a few hours later?
Ridiculous.
But it didn’t feel ridiculous when he looped his arms around the top fence rail and watched her work with Ginger. “For a horse in her condition, she seems strangely content,” he told her. His hands rested lightly on the rail. He seemed at ease, even though the horse’s presence had messed up his life. Was he that accustomed to a messed-up life? Or was he immune to drama?
That was an idea she could adopt straight-out, but she kept her attention on the horse. “Has this always been her nature? Or is she just happy to be loved and cared for after her recent neglect?”
“Maybe both.” He frowned slightly and she fought the urge to smooth that frown. “I was young when she was sent away, but I loved her. And that day, one single day, everything went wrong. And it never really got right again.”
“But you’re fixing it now.”
His dark eyes rested on the horse. Sorrow filled his gaze. “Mending what I can. But when you tear the heart of a fabric, even the best mending is still a patch job.”
Healing the Cowboy's Heart Page 5