“This is bad-ass Hillary,” Randy said.
“Oh?” Karen said. “Because…?”
“I’m not sure,” Randy said. “Hillary, this is Veronica and this is Karen, two angels from heaven.”
Hillary stared. They just looked like two old farmer ladies to her. Randy followed the women down to the crossties with Hillary trailing along behind him and looking all around.
“How’s the guy doing?”
“Okay. About the same,” Karen said, glancing over her shoulder at the girl.
When Randy stopped near the horse in crossties, Hillary had been gawking around so much she practically ran into him. Randy took out a syringe and stepped toward the horse, patting him gently on his skeletal neck. “Hey, pretty guy.”
Because of Randy’s size and the fact that Hillary hadn’t exactly been paying attention to where they were going, when Randy stepped closer to the horse to administer the vitamin injection, Hillary gasped, her knees buckled, and she fell to the floor.
“Oh my God,” she said, tears springing to her eyes. “Oh my God.” The horse looked down at her with the utmost curiosity. “What happened to him? Who did this?” Karen and Veronica helped her back to her feet. “Who did this?”
“I prefer not to know,” Karen said. “And we don’t ever let Veronica know. It would not be wise.”
Hillary stepped toward the horse warily as if she were afraid of frightening the animal and touched his face gently with a trembling hand. “Oh, you poor horse. You poor horse.”
Randy observed her reaction. “We’ve been trying to convince him that he is looking good, so….”
“Oh! I’m sorry. You do look good. I’m so sorry.” She stroked the horse’s face softly. “You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.” She pressed her face against his nose, hot tears streaming down her face. “So beautiful.” She looked at Randy. “Is he?” She looked at Karen and Veronica. “Is he…?”
“Is he going to be all right?” Tears welled up in Veronica’s eyes. “Is that what you want to know?”
Hillary nodded, wiping her eyes and looking up at the horse. Veronica and Karen steadied the girl when it appeared as if she was going to collapse again. “Randy, you should have warned her.”
“I did.”
“Here, come sit down,” Veronica said.
“I can’t.” Hillary gasped for breath. “He needs my energy.”
Randy looked at the two women, all three exchanging worried expressions.
“It’s all right,” the girl said softly to the horse. “It’s all right.”
Randy stepped back. The horse seemed to be responding to her. The girl cupped his muzzle and breathed into his nose. She focused on his eyes. She touched his ears. “Foregone,” she said. “Yes, Foregone.”
Karen and Veronica looked at one another and then at Randy.
“I promise,” the girl said. “Yes, I promise.” She stepped back and nodded. “I promise.”
“Promise what?” Veronica asked.
“To be by his side no matter what. I promised.” She touched her chest, drew a deep breath and sighed. “I never break a promise. Can I come see him every day?”
Veronica and Karen looked at Randy. He shrugged. What did he know?
The girl shivered and then shook her arms and hands, drew another deep breath and put her head down and fluffed her hair, wiped her chest off, her legs, moved her feet.
“Well, we’d better get going,” Randy said.
Hillary nodded and looked at the two women. “You will let me come back, won’t you?”
They both hesitated and then looked at the horse, more alive than he’d been for weeks. “Of course,” Karen said, with Veronica agreeing. “Of course.”
The girl reverted back to her crabby self in the truck, staring out the window and refusing to talk. Finally, she said to Randy, “So now you know why I can’t stand to see an animal suffer. I don’t just see it; I feel it.”
“How did you know he’s a Foregone offspring?”
The girl looked at him. “Easy. He told me.”
Chapter Twelve
George stood watching All Together in the paddock. The mare was looking longingly at the pasture, probably wondering why she wasn’t allowed to fun free. She kicked and bucked and trotted up and down the fence line.
Glenda walked up next to him. “How’s she doing?”
George motioned. “She wants out.”
The mare stood at the gate, whinnied loud and long and then started trotting again. “She keeps this up, I’m going to have to bring her in.”
“When will Randy know?”
“Sometime today,” George said. “Wait, did you just see that?”
Glenda shook her head.
“Watch. The foal just kicked. Look, on the right side.”
Glenda stared, saw it, and smacked George on the arm. “Yes!”
The foal kicked again and adding evidence, All Together kicked at her belly in response or retaliation, one of the two. George phoned Randy immediately.
“You sure?” Randy said.
“Yep. Oh, it just kicked again.”
“All right!” Randy said. “Good news!”
“Can I turn her out?”
“Yeah, go ahead. Just keep an eye on her.”
Glenda slipped between the fence rails and walked down and opened the gate to the pasture. All Together took off running down to where her regular pasture mate stood grazing. The two mares nipped and played halter tag for a moment or two and then both grazed, muzzles inches apart. These two mares had been together for five years now.
“They aren’t just friends, they’re family,” Glenda liked saying. “A lot like the rest of us here at the farm.”
It went without saying they’d keep an eye on the mare and would search the pasture when they brought her in - necessary procedures with mares in foal, particularly with one having shown signs of possibly being in heat or having an infection. Randy had sent off additional blood work. The results were due back later today.
Randy had matured into a hands-on practitioner. What the man saw when examining a horse was equally as important to him as the clinical aspects. George and Dusty had talked quite often about it and with Senior too. What Dusty liked best was Randy’s pragmatism, and his ability to take a wait-and-see approach and not rush into a diagnosis or prognosis.
He told Randy that once and Randy laughed. “I don’t like being wrong. I’d much rather wait a little bit and be right.” He’d learned that from Doc Jake early on, but it wasn’t until Doc Jake passed away and Randy was on his own that he started putting it into practice. Always when confronted with a difficult case or a life or death decision or something way out of the ordinary, he would ask himself, “What would Doc Jake do?” Then one day, without asking himself anything, he just started reacting on his own.
“Dawn said she found him asleep in his truck again this morning,” Glenda said. “He’s exhausted.”
“I know.” George nodded. “Dusty called. He said Wendy’s going to try and get him some temporary help.”
“Will Randy agree to that?”
“Dusty said he did. We’ll see.”
They were all concerned about the amount of hours Randy put in and feared he was just going to up and collapse one day. Randy laughed when they told him that, said they were worrying for nothing.
George and Glenda watched All Together and Scarlet graze a little while longer, then went back to cleaning stalls; Glenda in the main barn, George in the stallion barn. The two-year olds on the farm wouldn’t start training for another month or so and were all turned out. The yearlings and weanlings were on pasture twenty-four hours a day and had big run-in sheds to get out of the weather. In addition, the weanlings had a boss mare no longer being bred, turned out with them. Dusty’s new little horse Bonnie Bee was in the pasture with Poncho and Biscuit and as content as could be. There were horses to care for everywhere. There was mowing to do, and the garden to harvest and weed. There was maint
enance on the barns and fences. Glenda and George were never bored and had never been happier.
~ * ~
Liz walked over to Dawn and Randy’s house to check in on Carol and the children. They were playing Come and Get Me, a modern variation of Hide and Go Seek that Carol invented for her own grandchildren who she rarely saw anymore. One of her daughters lived in Alaska, the other New Mexico. The children loved the game. They didn’t really have to hide. They just had to go somewhere and call out for someone to come tag them.
Grandma Liz had brought them blueberry muffins. They each had one and then ran off to the playroom to watch Barney on video. The two women sat down in the dining room for a cup of herbal tea, Carol’s special blend of dried flowers, lemon, and honey. It went wonderfully with the blueberry muffins.
“Everything going on and I feel so useless,” Liz said. “At least when I was back home, I had outside chores to do. I don’t know anything about horses. I need to find something to do or everyone’s going to be visiting me at a funny farm.”
Carol smiled. “That’s how I felt. That’s why I’m here.”
“I mean, I’m worried about Cindy. I’m worried about Matthew.”
“Are they back?”
“Not yet.”
“And when we were working on the house getting all set up, that kept me busy. But it’s all done now. All the curtains are made. I finished the last pair just before we went down to Cindy’s.”
“I hear you.”
The two women were about the same age and had a lot of the same interests, though Carol was more of an indoor person. Liz missed the outdoors. “There’s just nothing for me to do.”
“Have you thought about helping Glenda with the garden?”
“I wouldn’t want to intrude. See, and that’s just it. I’m thinking I’d like to put in a garden of our own next year but I don’t want to offend her since she grows enough for everyone.”
Carol sipped her tea. “Would you like to spend more time with the children?”
“No, not really. I mean I love them. I love them dearly and I don’t want to sound selfish, but I don’t know how to be me anymore. I need to be me,” Liz said.
Carol smiled. She hadn’t actually feared Liz was hinting at wanting to take over the children’s care, but the fact that she didn’t came as a relief. Her job as nanny to the children was her livelihood, her home, her life. Period. What on earth would I do without this family? Her daughters wouldn’t want her. They would probably consider her a burden. She would have nothing to offer them. “I think I know how you feel or at least how I would feel.”
“I honestly hoped when Randy and Cindy opened the new vet hospital that I maybe could volunteer as their receptionist. Frankly, if I don’t do something, Senior’s going to drive me crazy. He’s constantly underfoot. Do you know just this morning he tried to tell me how to make the bed.”
Carol laughed.
“I’m serious! He said I tucked the sheets too tight. I said why didn’t you ever say anything before and he said he’d just now noticed. I tell you, Carol, he’s driving me crazy. I think he’s feeling much the same way I am. We need something to do.”
The two women drank their tea, quiet for a moment. Too quiet. “I’d better go check on them,” Carol said, and was back a few minutes later. “A new episode of Barney. Go figure. They’re mesmerized.”
Liz finished her tea, bid Carol good-bye and walked out to visit with Glenda as she worked in the garden. “Any word?” Glenda asked.
“No.” Liz turned over a bucket and sat down. “Senior’s not one to call. We’ll have to wait till they get home.” She watched how Glenda pulled the weeds straight up and out. If asked, she’d tell her that technique only works for young weeds. The more-established ones need to be gripped and tugged sideways. She’d have less break-off that way. And oh, the way she was tilling the dirt so close to the plants. Liz’s eyes widened. Do you know you’re killing important microbes, she desperately wanted to say. Don’t till so close to the plant, please. Paleeze….
Glenda looked up at her. Was there something on the woman’s mind? “You okay, Liz?”
“Yes. I’m just about as useless as tits on a boar hog though.”
Glenda laughed.
“Pig farmer humor,” Liz said, laughing with her. “But honestly, I’m going stir crazy. I really am. I’m actually thinking about applying for a job somewhere. Senior would have a fit though.”
Glenda smiled. “Senior is a little old-fashioned, isn’t he? Though seriously, if George told me to stop working and just do nothing, I just might like it for a little while at least.”
“For a little while is the definitive part. Forever? No.”
Both women smiled and fell silent, one weeding, one observing. “So what would you be doing if you were back home on the farm?” Glenda asked.
“Oh, probably be out weeding the garden. Our growing season back home is a little later than here, but I always had weeding to do.”
“Sounds like you really miss it?”
“I do,” Liz said, absentmindedly reaching down and plucking a weed.
Glenda reached for it, looked at the snarly root, intact, and tossed it into the bucket.
“It’s a grip-and-pull-toward-you motion,” Liz said.
Glenda handed her the till handle, watched how Liz made a large circle around each single plant and kept a wide berth of the rows of plants. “Do you want some gloves? I have an extra pair in the bucket over there.”
“No, I like the feel of the earth. Thank you. Baking soda cleans them right up.” The women worked together, both using their shirt sleeves to wipe their brow and stood back to admire their handiwork. “Thank you,” Liz said. “I actually feel like I need a nap. Isn’t that great? Wonder what I can do tomorrow?”
Glenda smiled, and then she and Liz turned at the sound of Senior’s truck pulling in off the road. Both wiped their hands in preparation for the news. “Well?” Liz asked, when they parked and he and Matthew got out.
Matthew shrugged. “The doctor was not happy.”
“To say the least,” Senior said.
“But, he said as long as I ‘behave’ myself I can stay here at the farm.”
“So, that’s good news. Right?” Glenda asked.
Matthew shrugged again. “He thinks it might be months for my eyesight to heal.”
“The doctor says there is no way of knowing how long,” Senior said.
Matthew stood a moment staring off. “He also said it could be permanent.”
“There’s no way of knowing that either,” Senior said.
“So,” Matthew said. “It’s a waiting game.”
~ * ~
Randy pulled up next to the Miller barn and Hillary got out and walked around the front of the truck without so much as a wave or a good-bye. Randy shook his head, got out, and went looking for Dawn. She was in the feed room, quietly mixing feed for this evening. The two horses in today were in the “drawing” phase of racing. No hay. The last thing anyone would want was for them to hear her preparing dinner.
“Your indentured servant is back,” Randy said, about half a second before Hillary appeared at his side.
“Oh, there you are,” the girl said to Dawn. “What are you doing?”
“Starting the oats for dinner,” Dawn said. “Shhhh….”
Ben was old school about drawing a horse before a race and also about cooking oats every day. “Cooked oats are easier for the horse to digest,” he insisted. When the oats were ready, he would add other grains he felt the individual horses needed.
Hillary pushed past Randy, and not so politely. “What’s this?” she asked, looking into the flaxseed bin.
Dawn motioned for her to lower her voice.
“Why?” the girl whispered. “Can’t we just shut the door?”
“No, they’ll know,” Dawn said quietly.
“I’m leaving,” Randy said. “By the way, just so you know, Miss Personality is welcome back at Shifting Gears
.”
“Oh?” Dawn asked.
“Apparently,” Randy said softly, “she has quite a gift with horses.”
The girl looked at him.
“I’ll try to get up for the races. I can’t promise anything though.” He gave Dawn a kiss, crossed his fingers in a hex sign when stepping past the girl, and walked to his truck, smiling. He’d heard about people with a gift for sensing what animals feel. He didn’t doubt there was at least something to it. He wondered if the “sensitive” ones were all this miserable. He gave that second thought. How would you not be, considering….
Dawn explained all the different grains to the girl, explained why this horse got more barley than the others, why another horse didn’t get as much flax seed. Why all of them got just a little bran. Why the added supplement of iron and vitamins. “When the cooked oats are done at afternoon feed time, we scoop the hot oats into the feed tubs, mix it up and the horses love it.” She nudged Hillary out of the feed room when she was done mixing the feed and tiptoed out behind her.
“So what’s this about a gift?” Dawn asked, walking down the shedrow to Alley Beau’s stall to groom her and do her legs. The girl shrugged. Evidently she didn’t want to talk about it. Dawn grabbed Alley’s bandages and wraps and grooming bucket and ducked under the mare’s stall webbing. The girl stood in front of the stall, not talking, just standing there.
Dawn glanced at her watch. It wasn’t even nine-thirty yet. The girl stepped closer to the inside wall when a horse being hot-walked was led by. Dawn studied the young girl’s expression. It was hard telling what she was thinking.
“Dawn!’ Tom called.
“I’m with Alley,” she said.
He walked down the shedrow with Red following along behind him. He looked at Hillary. “You still here?”
“Her mom’s picking her up in about a half hour,” Dawn said.
He glanced at the girl and then looked at her again. “What?” She was studying Red for some reason.
“He’s tired,” she said.
“I know that. We both are. We ponied six this morning. He’ll get a rest.”
The girl stroked Red’s neck, traced the huge scar from when he was a foal. Tom watched her. Dawn watched her. Red watched her. “He loves you, you know.”
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