“You stay on the outside of the fence, Aly, and I’ll go get Joey.”
As Sarah went through the open gate, her boot got tangled up in something. One of Joey’s wind chimes. “How did this get here?” she mumbled, grabbing the object and tossing it over the fence. I’ll get to you later. Sarah could see that Aly was watching closely as she put the halter on Joey. Once they were outside the paddock, Sarah let Aly help her hold Joey’s lead line.
In the grooming area, Sarah took out two brushes and handed the rubber currycomb to Aly. “First we use this round brush to get the dirt off Joey’s coat. Brushing the horses is one way we take care of them. They get lots of dirt and leaves and even bugs in their coats, and they need us to help get those things off.”
The little girl nodded as Sarah showed Aly how to brush in small circles.
“You know, all of our horses need lots of love and care,” Sarah said, feeling the need to fill the silence. “But since Joey can’t see, he needs even more love and care.” She moved Aly’s hand down a little lower on Joey’s side. “There you go. I see lots of dirt on his coat right there. Good job, Aly.”
The little girl acknowledged the compliment with a shy glance as she continued brushing.
“Now let’s switch brushes.” Sarah gave Aly the hard-bristled brush. “We brush in short, straight strokes with this one, to remove everything the currycomb loosened.” Sarah demonstrated the technique along Joey’s back. And then she stopped. Wait. Aly will never be able to reach this high.
“I have an idea. Let’s move Joey closer to this picnic table.” Sarah loosened Joey’s lead rope a little and maneuvered him a few steps.
“Okay, Aly, if you stand on top of the picnic table, you can brush Joey’s back. I’ll be right here beside you.”
Aly concentrated on her job, and Joey’s coat started to gleam. Sarah finished the overall grooming with a soft brush and then gave Joey a light hoof cleaning.
“All done. Thank you, Aly. You were a great help. Would you like to walk Joey with me?”
Aly nodded, yet there was a look—a longing—in her expression.
“Were you hoping to ride Joey today?”
Another nod. Wow! The timid little girl wanted to ride the large blind horse. Well, what girl doesn’t want to ride a horse! Aly was young enough to not give a second thought to Joey’s condition, something none of the adults at Hope Reins seemed able to do. It suddenly dawned on Sarah that no one had ridden Joey since he arrived at Hope Reins—since the incident with the fence.
It seemed that no one wanted to risk Joey getting hurt again, so they just let him be. Sarah didn’t even know if Joey had a specific trainer. Surely someone worked with him, or else they wouldn’t be able to use him in sessions, but was anyone getting him ready to carry a rider? Looking at the hopeful little face staring up at her, Sarah knew she would have to ask.
“Hey, Aly,” she said, bending down to be eye to eye with the girl. “Can I tell you a little secret?”
Deep brown eyes blinked at her, looking quite serious.
Sarah lowered her voice to a whisper. “This is my first time doing a session all by myself, and I don’t know if Joey can take kids for a ride yet,” she confessed. “Joey hasn’t been here that long, and I think he’s still getting used to his new home, all the new people, and the other horses.”
Aly looked at Joey, then back at Sarah.
“But you know what? Maybe you can help Joey start to feel more comfortable here so that one day soon he might be able to give rides.”
Aly tilted her head just the way Joey often did.
Sarah smiled at the similarity.
“Yeah,” she said, warming to her own idea. “Maybe each time you come to Hope Reins, you can groom Joey and talk to him and just be his friend—to help him build trust in people. Do you think you could do that for Joey?”
Aly nodded—a firm, decisive nod. Sarah had no doubt whatsoever that Aly would keep her end of the deal. The new partners walked Joey around the large riding arena twice before leading him back to his paddock.
Sarah stopped Joey in front of the gate.
“Since you are going to be one of Joey’s best friends, I bet he would like to give you a hug. Is that okay?”
Aly’s ponytail bobbed quickly up and down.
Sarah positioned Aly at Joey’s left shoulder. Then Sarah reached into her pocket and pulled out an apple-and-oat biscuit. She held it in front of Joey’s nose, and the horse followed her hand as she moved it toward his left shoulder.
As Joey took the treat from Sarah’s hand, he effectively covered Aly in an equine embrace, much like the one he had given Ethan. Joey lingered for a moment with his head wrapped around little Aly. Suddenly, he surprised both of them by sticking out his tongue and rolling it across Aly’s cheek.
Aly’s head jerked back. Her eyes widened with shock. But her face lit up with a genuine smile, revealing an adorable dimple on her left cheek. Joey, you’re such a charmer.
Sarah laughed out loud. “Joey just gave you a kiss! He must really, really like you.”
Aly’s eyes twinkled with delight as Sarah secured the gate. Joey’s job was done for the night as he made a beeline for Speckles. The two nuzzled and nibbled each other before Speckles began walking toward the back pasture with Joey following close behind.
Sarah and Aly walked hand in hand back to the Hope Reins office, where Cindy was waiting.
“Well, sweetie, how did it go?” she said, holding Aly’s hands.
Sarah couldn’t see Aly’s face, but she definitely could see Cindy’s face as her daughter threw her arms around her mom and squeezed tight. There was so much love expressed by the young mother, hope glistening in her tear-filled eyes. Sarah found her own eyes starting to well up.
Maybe God really does have a purpose for Joey. And if so, maybe someday he might even have some kind of plan for me.
Sarah walked Cindy and Aly to their car, then returned to the office to jot down a few notes about the session:
Aly made a strong connection to Joey. Wants to build trust with him. Interested in riding at some point, if possible. Likes horse hugs. Didn’t speak once during session.
Sarah wasn’t sure if Barb would take over Aly’s sessions when the little girl came back, but she found herself hoping that wouldn’t be the case. Maybe she would ask Kim about being Aly’s session leader going forward. Just for the sake of continuity, Sarah thought as she walked to her car. But she knew full well that her desire to work with Aly went much deeper than that.
CHAPTER 10
“BARB, HOW ARE WE supposed to pay this?” Kim asked, holding the vet bill in her hand. “We don’t have the money.”
The women stared at the bill—$1,700 for Essie’s latest visit to the animal hospital for another bout of severe colic. The tests and treatments had quickly added up.
“We’ve been tight for months, but between a pretty steady stream of donations and a relatively healthy herd, we were doing okay. But now . . .” Kim’s voice trailed off as she stared at the stack of bills in front of her. Along with the vet bill, there was another thousand due for hay, five hundred for supplements and grain, eight hundred owed to the farrier, three hundred for repairs made on the tractor, and . . . . Kim couldn’t bring herself to look at the insurance bill.
She looked at Barb. Steady, rock-solid, faith-filled Barb.
“I know it looks bad, Kim,” Barb said. “But God will provide. Somehow, someway, he will provide.”
How does she keep such faith?
“But, Barb, there is nothing there,” Kim said.
Barb looked at the bills. “What I do know is the God we trust is the same God who fed five thousand people from one little boy’s lunch, and who rained manna down from heaven to feed an entire nation. He can do this, Kim.”
She spoke with such confidence that Kim couldn’t help but feel a little more hopeful. But still, she was the leader of this ranch. Surely she should know what to do, know how to make ends meet. Ha
d starting this ministry been a terrible mistake?
Self-doubt began to fill Kim’s mind. Because God had provided the land in such a miraculous way, she had just assumed he would throw open every door, take care of every obstacle they encountered in a similar way. He provided, yes. But nothing like with the land. Everything else had come slowly, painfully.
Money had been the hardest of all. For someone who took great comfort in financial security, who delighted in having a healthy savings account, the ranch finances had been a nightmare. Determined not to dip into her family’s personal savings account, Kim had purchased most everything needed for the ranch on credit—credit that was maxed out. Donations had been trickling in, but there just never seemed to be enough. Never enough to make her feel like she could breathe easily or that they could plan for the ministry’s future. Every day was an act of faith. And I don’t think my faith is strong enough to get us through, she thought.
At first, when excitement ran high, it had been so easy to have faith. But when the horses needed hay in the bitter cold of January and the scorching heat of July and the upkeep of the ranch seemed never-ending, the mounting bills punctured the elation. Kim couldn’t keep the accusing thoughts at bay. Some kind of leader you are; you’re going to fail and let them all down. They pummeled her until she was paralyzed with fear. Mike tried to reassure and comfort her, but in many ways Kim wanted to prove herself to him most of all. If only I had faith like Barb’s.
Worry and trust.
“I need some air,” Kim said suddenly.
Barb nodded in understanding. Kim knew that Barb would begin praying for her as soon as she left, and that brought her momentary comfort.
The sun’s warmth felt good. She breathed deeply, taking in the wonderful fragrances of June flowers in bloom. A volunteer had asked if she could plant flowers on the property, and what a colorful masterpiece she had created. Gardenias, hydrangeas, roses, and marigolds dotted the landscape, and flowering vines and shrubs emitted intoxicating aromas.
So much beauty. And yet so much stress. Mike and Barb provided constant encouragement, and the Hope Reins board of directors were working on possible solutions to the cash flow problem. But this had all been her idea. Her calling. Her dream. Her burden to carry. Her problem to solve.
Kim walked down the long fence line, greeting each horse she passed. A few raised their heads in response, a couple rested contentedly, and several were too far away to hear. Kim felt her shoulders relax, soothed by the intertwined melody of wind chimes, horses nickering, and songbirds.
A few minutes later, Kim arrived at the training arena where Lauren had been working with Speckles. Neither of them were there now. She must have finished early. Kim was so proud of Lauren’s progress with Speckles. He was a different horse now—the once-ornery animal was now a gentle companion for Joey. Speckles would even tolerate a rub or a pat from the adult volunteers. Kim worried about his long-term care, knowing Speckles’ knees would continue to deteriorate, but she was just as committed to keeping the wounded horse as Lauren was to working with him.
Kim walked to Gabe’s field at the far end of the ranch before turning toward the round pen to begin the walk back. The unmistakable sound of a horse trotting stopped her. Has one of the horses gotten out? As she looked around, she spotted something, although it took her a minute to register what she was seeing. Lauren was standing on top of a picnic table with a lunge line attached to Speckles, who was circling the table.
“Whoa, Speckles. Stop,” Lauren called out. Speckles obeyed.
“Good job, my speckled monster,” Lauren said, ruffling the horse’s mane. “You did great today.”
“Well, lunging a horse from a picnic table is certainly something I’ve never seen before,” Kim laughed as she approached.
Lauren’s cheeks, already flushed from the sun, deepened a shade.
“I hope that was okay,” she said, gathering the excess line in her hands. “He wasn’t feeling the arena or the round pen, so I thought we’d try something new. For whatever reason, I think he likes me standing above him.”
“I love it,” Kim said. Lauren’s methods were unconventional, but there was no doubt they worked. Speckles looked relaxed and happy.
“I was just going for a walk to clear my head,” Kim explained. “But I certainly don’t want to interrupt you two,” she said, giving Speckles a good scratch behind the ears.
“You aren’t interrupting at all. We were just winding down. I’m trying to get this guy some exercise, see if we can keep his knees from locking up.”
A loud whinny startled them. Joey. Speckles pawed at the ground and bobbed his head up and down, answering his impatient friend.
“Has Joey been like that the whole time you’ve been over here?”
“Yes, pretty much from the moment I took Speckles out,” Lauren said. “Joey tried to follow us, and when I shut the gate he started pacing back and forth, sounding off every so often so we wouldn’t forget he was waiting.”
Lauren picked up a clump of clover and held it up to Speckles. “This guy will occasionally call to him to let him know all is well. It’s so sweet.”
What a relationship those two horses had formed. Kim had never seen anything quite like it.
“Keep doing what you’re doing, Lauren. The methods may be unusual, but the results speak for themselves.”
As Kim resumed her walk, Joey’s pitiful cries drew her to paddock two. Maybe I can be a temporary stand-in for Speckles.
Joey’s ears jerked forward at Kim’s approach.
“Hey, bud,” she said, entering the gate. “It’s just me.”
The horse greeted her with a quick sniff and then hurried to the gate, clearly waiting for his pasture-mate to come through it. After several minutes, Joey calmed down enough to join Kim by the water trough, his ears still pointed in Speckles’ direction.
“Don’t worry. He’ll be back soon,” Kim said, absentmindedly scratching Joey’s back. She felt her stress and fear slowly fade away. This is why I started this ministry: so hurting children could have an opportunity to simply be present with a horse.
A memory of her beloved childhood horse, Country, flashed through her mind. How she had loved to spend time with her horse. Kim had owned several dogs, a cat, and a bunny, but there was nothing quite like earning the trust and respect of a thousand-pound animal. Or of having a horse mirror back to you how you were acting and feeling. Their ability to sense humans’ moods and attitudes was uncanny, and yet somehow very comforting.
Joey turned his head toward Kim, and she looked deep into his eyes. How blessed they were to have this horse who had bonded with so many of the children. They loved helping to lead him from his paddock to the hitching post, where they brushed his spotted coat and assisted with cleaning his hooves. Yes, some children seemed scared that Joey couldn’t see, but the majority of them adored Joey and were delighted to spend time with him.
Kim rubbed Joey’s neck, and he leaned into her touch. You are so trusting. The blind faith he had in her and in those who cared for him was truly remarkable. She pulled at the collar of her T-shirt as a familiar fear swirled around her: What would happen to Joey, and all the other horses, if she had to close Hope Reins? Where would they go? After all, this place was the last hope for many of the horses. These weren’t easy horses to rehome.
She would just have to find a way to keep things going.
Kim combed her fingers through Joey’s short blond mane and began to pray out loud. “God, I have no idea how to make this work. I can’t see how we are going to pay that pile of bills, or what would happen if we had to close our doors. But I truly believe you called me to start this ministry, and so I am choosing to trust you.”
She leaned her head against Joey’s shoulder. “I don’t know how you are going to provide, but I am asking that you will—for Joey and all the other horses, for the children, for our volunteers, for all those we will help in the future.” She paused, then added, “Provide the money w
e need, provide the volunteers we need, provide the leadership qualities I need. God, please . . .”
A squeaky gate interrupted her prayer as Lauren let Speckles into the paddock. Immediately, Joey gave a joyful snort as he wheeled and ran to Speckles, nearly throwing Kim off-balance. The two friends bent their heads over each other’s back in greeting, then eventually began to graze together.
“Don’t worry, boys,” Kim whispered. “I won’t let you down. I promise. I am choosing to believe that God will provide . . . somehow.”
CHAPTER 11
“ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?” Sarah asked Lauren from her vantage point on Joey’s back.
“You’ll be fine,” Lauren assured her. “Remember, he’s done this many times before.”
“Right, but he could see most of those other times!” Sarah retorted, suddenly regretting her offer to assess Joey’s ability to carry a rider during sessions.
Things had been going just fine. Why had she decided to rock the boat?
Aly. As the little girl’s face popped into her mind, Sarah knew she needed to go through with this. She had decided to ride bareback, which she always preferred. Besides, a saddle added more weight. A lighter load seemed the best plan for Joey’s inaugural ride at Hope Reins.
Sarah had been working as Aly’s session leader for the past two months. Although the routine with Joey was pretty much the same from week to week, Sarah could sense Aly’s trust in Joey building. She still hadn’t said a word, but she was communicating much more to Sarah with her expressions. There was no question that Aly wanted to ride the horse she had come to love.
Sarah had discussed it with Kim, Barb, and Lauren shortly after Labor Day. They all agreed that it was time to take the next step with Joey. It would be so helpful if he could handle a rider, and the session leaders could have another horse to use.
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