Healing the Forest Ranger

by Leigh Bale

  Cade’s face looked drained and pale. He didn’t speak for several moments, then answered quietly, “Yes. There’s something I can do.”

  Without explanation, he stood and walked up the hill to Flash. He was a medical doctor, but Lyn doubted a first-aid kit would do any good with this injury. It looked like a serious break. Though he wasn’t a veterinarian, she had confidence Cade knew what to do. Surely he could help the mare. He might even be able to set the bone, but how could they get the mare out of here? And where should they take the mustang until her leg could heal?

  He returned with a handgun.

  Lyn swallowed hard, understanding his intention. She didn’t know what kind of gun it was, or the caliber of bullet, but only that it was used for killing.

  He placed his hand on her shoulder. She felt the warmth of his touch through her shirt, along with the heavy weight resting on his heart. He met her gaze and she saw sadness in his eyes, along with a firm resolution of what needed to be done.

  “I’m sorry, Lyn. There’s no other way. The break is too severe. Even if I could set the leg, the mare is wild and would never let it heal. She’d have to stay off it for weeks. I can’t leave her here to suffer or be eaten alive by ravens and coyotes.”

  “I agree.” She nodded, ignoring the tears streaming down her face. She was too uncertain of her voice to speak right now. And she felt utterly helpless and ridiculous because she was being so emotional.

  Instead, she pulled the foal into her arms and settled on the ground, holding the baby tight. She could hear Cade’s footsteps as he returned to the mare, like a plodding death march. Could hear the powerful beating of her own heart pounding in her ears.

  She looked up and saw Cade standing over the mare, the pistol held tightly in one hand. He loosened the top two buttons of his shirt and took a deep breath. His face drained of all color, and his eyes filled with grief. Lyn caught a glimpse of the scar on his throat and another one snaking upward across his chest.

  Then he turned away. Setting the weapon aside, he knelt next to the mare and closed his eyes. As he rested his hands on his upper thighs, his lips moved in a silent prayer. For several moments, his features were torn by reverence and anguish. Then he arose and picked up the gun.

  Lyn pressed her face against the warm coat of the quivering foal. She held her breath. Waiting.

  The sound of the gunshot echoed off the canyon walls. Both Lyn and the filly jerked. Lyn’s entire being filled with gloom.

  Everything went still. Quiet. No sounds, no movements of birds or trees or wind. Only an eerie calm that heralded the loss of life.

  The anguish of the dying mare silenced immediately. Peace settled over the earth, but not within Lyn’s soul.

  Lifting her head, she studied Cade. He stood over the silent mare, his arms by his sides, the gun held limp in his long fingers. He stared at the wild mustang, his face void of expression. But in his eyes, Lyn saw wrenching torment. Something that could only be described as self-loathing.

  He’d had to kill one of the wild mustangs he loved.

  Cade looked out at the desolate gully. It mirrored his eyes. Nothing but numbing sadness. And then he lifted the weapon he’d used and glared at it with revulsion. He threw it aside in the dirt, as though it were a vile thing that had contaminated him.

  But it was too late. Lyn knew without asking. For just these few moments in time, Cade stood exposed. Vulnerable.

  Knowing he was a marine, she couldn’t help wondering if he’d killed before, in the act of war. Men who’d been declared his enemy, but were still human beings with the same Creator. What had Cade survived? She could only guess. And her heart went out to him, for all he’d suffered. For all he’d lost.

  She didn’t move. Not for several heart-pounding minutes, until Cade returned. He knelt beside her, wrapping one arm around her back. Patting her shoulder.

  Comforting her.

  She leaned against him, taking what he offered. Sharing a moment with him that she’d never experienced with anyone before. A closeness she couldn’t comprehend.

  So much for not becoming friends.

  “You okay?” His voice sounded weary. As though the weight of a thousand dying souls rested on his heart.

  She nodded, not yet trusting her voice.

  “I’m sorry you had to witness this. So sorry,” he said.

  She felt the warmth of his breath against her cheek and closed her eyes. She was beyond grateful he’d been with her today so she didn’t have to face this alone. She had no idea what she might have done if Cade hadn’t been here. Without a gun, she would have been forced to leave the mare to die alone. And that knowledge would have torn at her the rest of her life.

  She looked up, so close to him that she could see the tenderness in his eyes. The compassion. Even in his own sorrow, he was more concerned for her. What kind of man was Cade Baldwin? She no longer knew.

  An odd fluttering filled her chest. A craving to be more than friends with this man. But that was impossible. Wasn’t it? And yet they were. Not friends, but something more. Something deeper that she couldn’t explain.

  “I...I’ll be fine.” She pulled back, refusing to look again at the dead mare.

  He offered his hand as she stood, and she felt the rough calluses on his palms. She left the foal in his care while she returned to her horse and retrieved a long length of rope from her saddlebags. She took her time, trying to still the trembling of her limbs and the stutter of her heart. When she gained her composure, she returned and found Cade standing near the mare with his canteen. As though he couldn’t bear to abandon the dead horse.

  Now Lyn became the comforter. Avoiding looking at the mare, she went to Cade and touched his arm, knowing he felt the same as her. The helpless frustration that there was no way to change this outcome. Death was a part of life, but it was never pleasant or easy.

  “You did the right thing,” she said.

  He looked at her, his eyes dry but glazed with torment. It was as if he’d been transported somewhere else in time. Back to Afghanistan maybe?

  “I never wanted to hurt anyone. All I ever wanted to be was a doctor. To help people,” he said.

  Surely he was talking about the war. His voice cracked, and so did her heart. Her respect for him grew. Even a big, strong man like Dr. Baldwin couldn’t remain detached when faced with the suffering of these innocent animals.

  “Come on. It’s time for us to go.” She tugged on his arm, and he went with her up the hill.

  Cade’s eyes cleared, and he seemed to return to the present all at once. “We can’t leave yet.”

  He nodded at the filly. Together, they gazed at the baby. Abandoning the little horse here alone was just as cruel as leaving its mother to suffer in death. By nightfall, the foal would undoubtedly become prey to coyotes, mountain lions, or dehydration and death.

  The filly didn’t blink, looking at them with large, brown eyes. Soft and clear. Filled with trust. Lyn knew what she must do, but every piece of decency within her rebelled.

  “I’m supposed to leave her here. I’m not supposed to interfere with wildlife like this,” she mumbled, unable to take her gaze off the black beauty. Hating the thought of abandoning the baby.

  “Even with a helpless foal?” he asked.

  “That’s right. I’m supposed to leave her alone and let nature take its course.”

  He took a step. “She’ll die without her momma. You know that.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “You interfere with the wildlife when you build fences or round up horses to remove them from the range. We just interfered with the mare. Why can’t you help an orphaned foal?”

  He was right, of course. And as much as she respected the dictates of her job, Lyn couldn’t let this happen. She’d already made up her mind. She just hoped Cade wou
ld agree to what she planned.

  With little work, she tied a bowline knot and slid the rope around the filly’s neck. Not too tight to choke the baby horse, but tight enough that she couldn’t get away. The foal didn’t fight Lyn, merely flicking her miniature tail.

  “Cade, I have a proposition for you,” Lyn said as she worked.

  “And what’s that?” He stood close by, watching her with a bit of misgiving. Hadn’t he ever seen a woman tie a bowline knot before?

  “You have lots of corrals and a fine barn with plenty of room. I live in a Forest Service house in the middle of town. I can’t keep the filly with me, but I’ll pay you for her upkeep. Would you mind keeping the foal and taking care of her out at your place until I can arrange to buy her from the BLM?”

  Lyn looked at him, conveying her desperate request with every fiber of her being.

  “Of course I’ll keep her, but you don’t need to pay me. I’ll do it gladly.”

  “Thank you.” She breathed with relief.

  With the matter decided between them, they didn’t discuss it further. Lyn walked across the washout to collect Cade’s discarded gun. She couldn’t leave it out here for someone to find. She’d return it to him later, after he’d recovered from today’s events.

  Her feet sank deep into the sandy waste. Her calf muscles burned with the exertion, but it gave her a moment to gather her wits. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Cade as he led the filly back to their horses.

  Within minutes, they were riding toward the canyon where they’d parked the Forest Service truck. Cade’s voice sounded almost normal when he called Gus to join them. The dog trotted along beside them, herding the foal from behind when it tugged stubbornly against the pull of the rope.

  Lyn didn’t care to talk and noticed from his silence that Cade felt the same. A leaden cloud of sadness rested over them, dampening them with gloom.

  At their base, they loaded the horses in the trailer and crowded Gus and the filly into the front of the truck with them. If they put the baby in the back with the adult horses, she might be injured. They had no choice but to keep her with them, and Cade did his best to keep her quiet. Only when they were driving down the mountain did Lyn stop to think that Cade could get her fired if he told the forest supervisor that she’d taken a wild foal home with her. Lyn thought about pleading with Cade to keep his silence, but didn’t. She needed her livelihood, but she needed her humanity even more. Saving the filly had been the right thing to do. She’d work it out with the BLM somehow.

  She just hoped Cade wasn’t a vindictive man.

  * * *

  Cade couldn’t stop trembling like a little kid. Yes, he’d done the right thing by putting the mare down, but pulling the trigger had left him bereft and shaking. For several moments, he’d been transported back in time to the war in Afghanistan. To the sounds of bullets spraying against buildings and the bodies of screaming men.

  People he knew so well. Friends he’d cared about. So much death. So much blood.

  Then he’d felt Lyn Warner’s touch on his arm, gentling him the way she’d gentled the orphaned foal. Soothing his raw nerves. Bringing him back to the present.

  He’d never forget the anguish on Lyn’s face after he’d killed the mare. Her soft sob as she held tight to the filly, whispering that everything would be okay. Speaking to the little horse as though it was a newborn infant and depended on her for survival. And then her quiet request that he keep the foal out at his ranch.

  No, this woman wasn’t at all like the coarse forest rangers Cade had dealt with in the past. But neither did he believe he could take advantage of her where the mustangs were concerned. She had compassion for the wild horses, but she would still do what she believed was right.

  She’d still call for a wild-horse roundup when the time came.

  The hour-long drive down the mountain seemed to take only seconds. Cade had his hands full keeping the baby horse quiet. Back at Cade’s ranch, they unloaded Flash and took the filly to the barn. At his urging, Lyn took a pitchfork and spread fresh straw in a clean stall. It’d be warm when the foal bedded down for the night.

  Cade took a clean bucket and disappeared for a short time. When he returned, he opened a cabinet and took out a large feeding bottle his grandfather had used to wean baby calves. It’d been a long time since Cade had seen the process, and he tried to remember what Grandfather had taught him. If the filly refused to drink, she’d die.

  Cade poured the contents from the bucket into the bottle, noticing Lyn’s gaze resting on him with curiosity.

  “Where did you get the milk?” she asked.

  He didn’t look at her. “I have a goat. If we want the foal to survive, it’s critical that she eat soon. This meal will tide her over while I drive into town for some milk replacer and foal pellets. She’ll need to eat four times a day until I can determine how much hay she’s eating. Later, I’ll introduce her to Nannie and hope they get along.”

  “Nannie?”

  “My nanny goat. If they like each other, then the filly needn’t be left all alone. I don’t dare put the foal with Flash until she’s much older. He might hurt her. But I also have a gentle old mare who might take to the baby horse for companionship. We’ll have to see.”

  Inside the warm stall, he petted the tremulous foal’s neck, letting the baby suck two of his fingers. With his fingers still in the filly’s mouth, he inserted the nipple and let hunger be the guide.

  No urging was needed. The horse sucked noisily, tugging on the bottle, voracious with hunger. Lyn stood close by, petting the filly’s back with approval.

  “What a good girl,” she said.

  Cade held the bottle with both hands so the horse wouldn’t pull it free. “I’m not sure how long her mother was down. It’s probably been a while since the filly’s been able to eat.”

  “I’ll bet she’s starving.”

  “No doubt. But I don’t want to overfeed her and give her intestinal problems. That could be just as deadly.”

  The foal jerked against the bottle. Cade drew back, caught off guard. He stumbled before he caught himself.

  “Hey, little girl. Mind your manners,” he scolded playfully.

  Lyn laughed, the sound warming Cade’s heart like nothing else could. Having her here helped ease the trauma of the day, and he was glad to share this successful feeding with her.

  “Thanks for this.” Lyn paused in rubbing the baby’s ears as she smiled up at him.

  “No, thank you. This has been a very...unexpected day.”

  “It sure has.” She looked toward the barn door. “I’ll unload Flash for you while you feed the foal.”

  Without waiting for his approval, she turned and walked out into the sunlight. Minutes later, she was back with his saddle, grunting as she hefted it over the saddle rack. She was certainly no sissy girl who needed a man to do everything for her.

  “Flash is happily drinking water and nibbling at hay,” she said softly.

  “Thanks.” He tilted the near-empty bottle so the foal could drain every last drop.

  “If you tell me what to buy, I can drive into town for the milk supplement,” she offered.

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll take good care of her, don’t worry. In fact, you should bring Kristen out sometime. Maybe she can name the foal. But wait a few days, until the baby gets over the stress of losing her momma and having a new home.”

  “I’m sure Kristen would like that a lot. There’s nothing in the world she loves more than horses.”

  She stood there watching him until the bottle was empty. They seemed to have run out of things to say, and he glanced at her, feeling out of place in his own barn.

  “Well, I guess I’d best get going,” Lyn said. “I’ll call before I bring Kristen out next week.”

  “Thanks a
gain. It was an enlightening day, but I’m sure glad it’s almost over.”

  “Me, too. It’s certainly not a day I’ll soon forget,” she agreed.

  He nodded, watching through the dim shadows of the barn as Lyn pivoted on her boot heels and walked away. He ran his hands over the filly, speaking calming words. The sounds of an engine and tires grating across his gravel driveway met his ears. He waited until all quieted, then walked outside.

  Lyn’s truck and trailer were just disappearing over the hill, heading back to town. Cade breathed a deep sigh, trying to sort out his emotions. He’d shared a cruel and amazing experience with the forest ranger. Somehow it’d brought them closer together. And yet, it’d also driven them further apart.

  He couldn’t explain how he felt about Lyn or this odd situation he found himself in. The baby horse didn’t change anything between them. Not really. He had a job to do, and so did Lyn. Cade planned to save the wild horses if he could. And nothing must stand in the way of that.

  Not even an orphaned baby horse.

  Chapter Six

  “What are you thinking about so intently?” The following Wednesday, Lyn leaned against the doorjamb to her kitchen and gazed at her daughter. Kristen sat in a chair at the table, staring out the window at the wide, empty street where they lived. It was the anniversary of the car accident, and both of them had been feeling melancholy all day. Lyn had taken the day off work and let Kristen stay home from school. Neither of them felt like doing much.

  Kristen turned her head away and brushed a hand across her eyes, but not before Lyn saw the shimmer of tears. Twin furrows permanently lined Kristen’s forehead, an oddity for such a young child. Life had not been kind to this little girl, and Lyn was amazed Kristen had adjusted as well as she had.

  “I’m not thinking about anything.” The child’s voice quivered with emotion.

  Lyn knew better, but decided not to push the issue. She didn’t want to start another fight. Many times she caught Kristen staring blankly out the window as though she’d been transformed to another place and time. Sometimes Kristen watched the neighbor kids as they ran around their yard and played with their dog. Other times Kristen studied the empty road, as if expecting someone to appear. But no one came. Just a vacant void that seemed to mirror her heart.