Home on the Ranch--Colorado Rancher

by Patricia Potter

  As if reading her mind, Bob glanced over at her. “It’s been hell for you, hasn’t it?”

  “Worse for Julie,” she said. “She adored Dane. I’m an adult. I’ve learned to survive loss. She’s only fifteen and she’s had to deal with losing her father and the guilt that she somehow is responsible for it. She’s also lost her lodestone, the challenge that drove her so hard.” Her daughter had been an athlete who dreamed of competing in the Olympics, and her injuries were devastating to who and what she’d been.

  Bob nodded. He’d been to some of the track competitions in Texas while Lauren was in Germany. Julie won each one. Lauren knew Julie had inspired his own children to compete.

  “I’m hoping, no, make that praying, this program could help her heal emotionally,” Lauren said. “She’s always loved animals, and Dane and I never felt we could have one since we never knew where we would be assigned next.”

  “We’re approaching the descent,” Bob announced. “It sure looks like scenic country down there.”

  “Patti showed me some photos. It’s breathtaking. The Eagles’ Roost Ranch is one of the few large family-owned ranches left in Colorado.”

  “Eagles’ Roost? I like the name.”

  “I do, too,” she said. She recalled every word Patti had said when she first recommended it after Julie had a particularly bad day.

  “Know anything about this family?” he asked.

  “There’s apparently just the owner, his sister and her son. Patti warned me that sometimes the owner comes across as impatient, or even rude. In addition to running the ranch, he teaches horsemanship and even makes videos used as teaching tools. Comes by the talent honestly, according to Patti, since he’s one fourth Ute. They were considered among the best horsemen of the western tribes.”

  “Sounds interesting anyway,” Bob said.

  “And too good,” Lauren said darkly. She’d gotten the opinion that her employee and friend had ulterior purposes, like playing cupid.

  Bob chuckled. “Anything else?”

  “According to her, the ranch has been in his family since Colorado was settled. His father had a bad accident when he was twenty and in his second year at the University of Colorado School of Agriculture. He dropped out and has been running the ranch since.”

  She omitted the rest of Patti’s description: He’s the tall, silent type. Sometimes Reese comes across as curt, but he’s a really nice guy once you get to know him.

  “Any reason he’s offering this program?” Bob asked.

  “I asked the same thing. According to Patti, he’s passionate about saving wild mustangs, especially after he learned they usually respond well to emotionally and physically wounded children and vice versa. He started exploring possibilities. This is the fourth year he’s sponsored programs for them.”

  “Sounds like an interesting guy,” Bob said. “Married?”

  She shrugged. When a year passed since Dane’s death, Bob and Sue tried to get her to mix more with fellow pilots. She wasn’t interested. Julie was all that mattered now. Not only that, this Reese Howard probably had a wife and six kids. She hadn’t asked, and Patti hadn’t offered more information.

  She looked down at the scenery below. The plains had been replaced by the foothills. The roads below were winding, and the structures farther and farther apart as they approached the local airstrip.

  Bob glanced at his watch. “The wind’s been with us,” he said. “We’re going to be there early.” They’d left San Antonio at 7:00 a.m. and they’d guessed their arrival would be around eleven-thirty for the noon meeting.

  Her plan was to stay no more than three hours, hopefully more like two. That would get them back home before dark.

  After a smooth landing, Bob parked the plane and went to make arrangements to refuel it for their return to San Antonio that afternoon. She walked to the small, nearly empty building to check on a rental car she’d ordered yesterday. The one person at the desk inside the small building told her it had arrived and gave her the keys and paperwork.

  She checked her watch. They were on time. Sally Reynolds, sister of the owner, had offered to pick them up, but Lauren preferred the independence of renting a car since she wasn’t sure when they would land. She hadn’t been sure she could rent one here but obviously if you paid enough, you could rent anything, anytime, anywhere.

  This “anything” was an elderly Jeep, but it was clean inside and when she started it, it ran well.

  As she waited for Bob, she glanced at the information she’d acquired about the Eagles’ Roost Ranch and its equine therapy program, Junior Ranchers. She’d made a list of questions she wanted to ask and started to review them.

  The military had taught her to be prepared and be on time; two rules she tried never to break.

  * * *

  Reese Howard swore as he looked ahead at the line of traffic. He was late. He hated being late for anything. It had been ingrained in him as a child. You don’t keep people waiting on you.

  Especially if they were coming six hundred or more miles.

  An accident on the main highway from the mustang sale in Wyoming had slowed traffic to a crawl. For the past three hours he’d followed a long line of cars, trucks and even a bus or two over an alternate route. After leaving the main flow he still had to drive fifty miles over a winding two lane road. Not fun when he was hauling four terrified horses and a cantankerous, and vocal, burro for seven hours.

  Problems started at the mustang auction in Wyoming. He’d gone to buy four new mustangs for the program that had become so important to him. One for each of the incoming kids. The sale had dragged on, and he’d had a confrontation with another bidder over a black mare. He won that battle and paid far more than the usual one hundred and twenty-five dollars per mustang just off the range, but he’d liked her spirit. It was obvious from her eyes she was frightened, but she still stood defiant.

  He’d already selected three other mares, but he really wanted the black one. Properly bred, she could produce some great colts and fillies.

  And the burro? No one wanted him. The Bureau of Land Management wanted to get rid of him. Now he was kicking up a storm in his horse trailer and further frightening the mustangs, if that was possible.

  He’d purchased the lot for nine hundred dollars. The burro was thrown in free. Reese still wasn’t quite sure why he accepted the offer. Burros always created chaos, but this one looked so damn forlorn as he stood isolated among his larger relatives. Darn if he hadn’t reminded Reese of a burro he’d had as a kid.

  He was eager to return to Eagles’ Roost. The mustangs weren’t used to being confined in a small space and were nervous. No. Petrified was the right word. In the past few days, they’d been driven from public range into pens by helicopters, then separated from the herd that had protected them since they were born.

  The plan was to train and sell them to good homes at top prices while helping veterans and their kids at the same time. It also meant four less mustangs would starve in hostile environments or be sold and resold to questionable buyers.

  He looked ahead at the blocked road again, tried his cell again—still no service—and uttered a few more choice words.

  Chapter 2

  “Quite a place!” Bob Marsh echoed Lauren’s thoughts as she drove through the open five-bar gate. A sign overhead announced their destination: Eagles’ Roost Ranch.

  “It’s a lot larger than I expected,” he added. “It seems to go on forever.”

  The ranch was in a valley shadowed on one side by a large jagged mountain. For the last mile, the land beside the road was lined with a thick wire fence. Horses grazed in several paddocks, and cattle were visible in the distance.

  She reduced speed as she drove down the gravel road toward a cluster of buildings dominated by a large rambling white house with a wraparound porch. What looked like stables were located on both si
des of the house, each with its own riding ring and paddock. She saw parts of other buildings behind the stables.

  Lauren had just parked when a woman burst through the front door of the house with all the energy of a tornado and walked over to the Jeep as she was stepping out.

  “Mrs. MacInnes?” the woman said, then answered her own question. “But of course you are. Patti described you perfectly. I’m Sally Reynolds. We talked on the phone. I understand you don’t have much time, so we’ll get started. Reese is running late, so I’ll fill you in until he arrives.”

  Sally was tall and athletically built. She looked to be in her midthirties. She wore jeans, boots, a leather jacket and an easy smile. Her glance went to Bob.

  “This is Major Marsh,” Lauren said. “He flew me down here.”

  “Welcome to Eagles’ Roost, Major,” Sally said.

  “Make it Bob,” he said.

  “I understand you flew from San Antonio. How was the flight?”

  “Great,” Bob said. “Clear skies. The landscape was spectacular flying in. Mountains. Lakes. Forest. Even saw a herd of antelope.”

  “This is really the best time of the year,” Sally said. “Winter is also breathtaking but it gets darn cold.”

  “I didn’t realize there were ranches up here,” Bob said.

  “We’re a disappearing breed,” Sally replied. “Most of the cleared land is being sold for residential and recreational uses. The few existing ranches in the area are mostly family owned and have been operating for a century or more.” She changed the subject. “Have you had anything to eat?”

  “A huge jug of coffee and day-old pastries,” Bob admitted.

  “Then have some lunch. There’s stew simmering on the stove...and bread just out of the oven.”

  “That sounds great,” Lauren broke in, “but we’re really on a tight schedule.”

  “Reese should be here shortly. He’s on the road back from buying some mustangs for the program. Something must have delayed him, and cell service out here is iffy at best. In the meantime, we can talk about the ranch and the program while you eat something. Reese should be here by the time we finish.”

  Disappointment flooded her. She’d received the impression from Patti that the entire program here was his idea, as was the use of mustangs. She’d read a lot about equine therapy in the past week. It was obviously a growing field, but this was one of the few in which wild mustangs were woven into it. That was the part of the program she wanted to discuss. She wanted to be reassured about safety.

  Until the accident, Julie had boundless curiosity and didn’t understand the meaning of danger. Lauren didn’t want that sometimes reckless curiosity to return in the midst of wild horses. On the other hand, the mention of mustangs might well be the lure to bring her to Eagles’ Roost.

  Despite her irritation, Lauren had no choice but to wait for Mr. Howard. Bob had taken one of his few off days to fly her up here and she couldn’t ask him to do it again. She could have borrowed the plane and flown herself but she had to think about Julie now. It was simply safer with two experienced pilots on the plane.

  “I’m glad you wanted to visit before sending your daughter here,” Sally said, ushering them up the front steps and into the large ranch house. “In fact, it’s usually mandatory for both parent and child. But since Patti had personal knowledge and thought your daughter would be a good fit for us, we waived it. But you know best about what your daughter needs.”

  “Not any longer,” Lauren replied wryly, “unless you can turn the clock back fifteen months. She’s changed from the hard-charging athlete, but maybe even then I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did.”

  “I wonder whether we ever do,” Sally said. “I’m learning new things about my son every day. Now, what about that stew? Betty Baker, our cook, is terrific.”

  Lauren smiled at the name.

  “I know,” Sally said. “But the name surely fits. She’s a great cook.”

  Lauren was hungry and knew Bob must be, as well. “Sounds good,” she said. She would have to curb her impatience to meet Reese Howard.

  “Great. Patti has told me about your daughter but I would like to hear the story from you,” Sally said as she led the way inside a large kitchen with two large stoves and numerous pans hanging everywhere. A pot, exuding delicious smells, was on the stove. Sally ladled stew into three large bowls and put them on a small table to the side of the kitchen. She added hot bread from the oven. “Iced tea or lemonade?” she asked.

  Lauren hadn’t had lemonade in years. “Lemonade,” both she and Bob said together.

  The aroma from the stew had not lied. It was terrific: thick with tender meat and potatoes, corn, onions and mushrooms with a tangy base. “Nearly everything comes from the ranch,” Sally said as she joined them at the table. “Now, tell me about Julie.”

  Lauren took a deep breath. The details of that day were still so vivid. “We—my husband and I—were stationed in Germany with alternating deployments to Afghanistan. One of us was always in Germany with Julie.

  “Julie flourished there. She loved athletics and excelled at track. She won most of the track competitions in which she was eligible. She liked other sports as well, but it was track she loved. We traveled all over Europe when we were on leave. Nineteen months ago Dane was promoted and transferred to Laughlin Military Base in Texas. There were fighter pilot shortages because of the war in Afghanistan, and I couldn’t get an immediate transfer.

  “We gave Julie a choice,” she continued. “She chose the States. She was thirteen, nearly fourteen then, and hadn’t lived here since she was seven. Dane wanted her to know her own country, and Julie wanted to train in the States. To be honest, she was a daddy’s girl. He adored her. I was always the disciplinarian. And then, too, she had her heart set on the Olympics, and America seemed to be the best place for her to train.”

  “That’s a big goal.”

  “Julie had big dreams but they weren’t completely out of the question. She flew on the track and worked at it endlessly.”

  Sally nodded. “Patti told me about the accident and her injuries.”

  “She won’t run in the Olympics,” Lauren said flatly. “She’ll be lucky to run at all. But I’m hoping there are other sports that might interest her. Like riding. She does love animals. It’s one reason I thought she might like this program.”

  “How’s the leg now?”

  “More hopeful. She’s had four operations. The leg was torn up. They had to reset it twice. The first time it didn’t work. The second time they transplanted bone from her hip into her leg. Nerves and ligaments were torn in her ankle and she couldn’t move her foot. They took some muscle from her ankle and substituted it for a nerve so she can have some movement there. That’s where we are now. Waiting to see if it works. Even if it does, the movement will never be as it once was, but she won’t have a drop foot.”

  Lauren hesitated, then continued. “The question is, then, how can she ride? It would break her heart to sit back and watch others.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that. Not with all the precautions Reese takes,” Sally said. “He has equipment to help riders with disabilities mount, and he also has a horse that’s been trained to lie down while someone mounts. I’m a trained physical therapist and certified in equine therapy. All our instructors who work with the program are fine horsemen and women and have taken courses in equine therapy.

  “In addition to our riding instructors, we assign one of our employees—we call them buddies—to each teen for the month. They stick pretty closely to their assigned participant, and during the month all our hands are watching over them.”

  “Who are the other kids?” Lauren asked.

  “Two boys and one other girl. All three have lost a parent and are struggling. We became involved after Reese donated some horses to a program run by veterans for veterans
in Covenant Falls. They operate an ongoing program for veterans suffering from PTSD. They wanted to do one for kids who lost a military parent and/or had emotional or physical problems, but the demand for more veteran programs was too strong.

  “In short, Reese wanted to help and decided to develop a program for kids of fallen military members. He assembled experts and came up with what we have now. We call them Junior Ranchers.”

  “I like that,” Lauren said, “particularly giving each one a buddy.”

  “They are our younger cowhands who volunteer. They truly enjoy it and often stay in touch with their participant long after the program ends,” Sally said.

  “Tell me about the other participants,” Lauren said.

  “The boys are Heath Hanson, who lost a father in Afghanistan. He’s currently living with his uncle. Tony Fields is the son of a veteran who had PTSD and committed suicide. The third is Jenny Jacobs. She lost her mother, a helicopter pilot, and her father isn’t coping well.

  “While they’re here, they’ll learn horsemanship and the care of horses. There is a psychologist—Dr. Paul Evans—who will drop in throughout the month. He’s retired but keeps his credentials up-to-date, and he’s like a grandfather to these kids.

  “The kids learn to ride on well-trained riding horses,” she continued. “There’s any number of benefits. Riding improves balance, strengthens muscles and does wonders with self-confidence among other benefits. But with the mustangs, they just talk and spend time with them. The horses, in turn, learn to trust human beings. There seems to be some magic between these horses and youngsters with physical or emotional problems,” Sally explained. “They both benefit.”

  “I read some books about it,” Lauren asked. “Until then I had no idea how many similar programs there are, and how valuable they can be.”

  “Horses by their very nature are empathetic. They want to please once they realize you’re not going to harm them or their herd.”

  “How does the coed aspect work?”