But a moment later, Sarah pulled herself together and straightened up. “I’m so sorry, Kim.”
Kim waved her words away. “No apologies. You are hurting, and I am here for you. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Sarah cleared her throat. “Watching Aly find the courage to speak tonight made me realize how scared I’ve been to speak up since I’ve been here.”
The compassion in Kim’s eyes compelled Sarah to keep going.
“Seeing how much she trusted Joey, how she chose to be brave for him, made me wish that . . . I don’t know . . . that maybe I could be brave and trust someone too.”
Without thinking, the two women had walked silently toward paddock two. They stopped at the fence, leaning on the top rail.
Kim quietly broke the silence.
“What would you want to tell that person whom you want to trust?” she gently probed.
Sarah gazed at Joey. You’ve taught me more about trust than any human ever has.
Then she whispered to Kim, “I would want to tell that person that I’m not who I pretend to be.”
Sarah lowered her head. If only the ground would open up and swallow me right now.
“And who are you really?”
Sarah couldn’t do it. She couldn’t risk it.
An image of Aly riding Joey—speaking up for Joey so he wouldn’t be afraid—flashed through her mind.
“I’m someone who was broken by deception as a child, and I have survived behind a wall of lies. It has hurt those I’ve cared about, but it has hurt me much more deeply.”
Kim winced at her words, lightly resting her hand on Sarah’s shoulder as she continued.
“I’m not even sure I’m a real Christian. I mean, I believe in God—I asked Jesus to forgive me for my sins when I was a kid—but when my mother and I found out that my dad had lived a secret life, I just got so mad at him. Nothing really mattered anymore, and I started doing some really wrong things.”
She risked a glance at Kim. “I actually moved to Raleigh for a fresh start . . . after my divorce, after my life crashed and burned. Great role model, right? I’m pretty much damaged goods at this point—too far gone for God to forgive me.”
“Sarah, what a burden you have been carrying all this time,” Kim said, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so glad you finally were brave enough to share it, and I’m honored that you felt safe enough to talk with me.”
Nothing was said for several minutes as Sarah fought to regain control of her emotions. Finally, Kim posed a question. “Sarah, what do you see when you look at Joey?”
Sarah, confused by the abrupt change in subject, ran the back of her hand across her nose before answering.
“Um,” she started, searching for the right description, “I see a beautiful and brave horse who touches people’s lives every day.”
“So you don’t see him as damaged, disabled, or broken?”
“No, of course not.”
“If you don’t see Joey that way, why would you think that God sees you as anything other than his beautiful, brave child who touches people’s lives every day?”
Sarah’s throat constricted, then without thinking, she clucked her tongue to call Joey over. She suddenly needed to touch him.
“You really think God feels that way about me?” she whispered.
“I know he does,” Kim replied firmly. “Sarah, all of us are works in progress. We all bring hurts and sins and brokenness to the ranch. But that’s the beautiful thing! God takes our messes—our heaps of ashes—and turns them into something more beautiful than we could ever imagine.”
Sarah was reticent to ask the next question.
“So I don’t have to leave? I can keep serving at Hope Reins?”
“What? Is that what you thought? That we wouldn’t want you because you don’t have a pristine past? If that was a requirement, none of us would be here—myself included! Of course we still want you! Now more than ever!”
The two women embraced, only to be interrupted by a nosy equine nudging his way between them. Both women planted a kiss on either side of Joey’s head.
As the women walked to the parking lot, Sarah stopped suddenly.
“Oh, with all my emotional drama, I totally forgot to mention a fund-raising idea I thought of when I was doing barn chores.”
“And what’s your idea?”
“A poop-a-thon!” Sarah replied in all seriousness.
“A, uh, what now?”
“A poop-a-thon. You know, like a walk-a-thon, but with poop. Think about it. Horses make tons of poop, right? So why don’t we have people sponsor volunteers to scoop? The more poop you scoop, the more money you raise! It’s a win-win situation.”
Kim couldn’t help but laugh. The idea was unique, and it would surely get people talking. She grinned at her volunteer, who was staring expectantly at her.
“I’m all in. Let’s do it.”
CHAPTER 21
SARAH’S FUND-RAISING IDEA was definitely a hit. The first fund-raiser was such a success that now, a year later, the second annual Hope Reins Poop-a-Thon was in full swing, or rather full scoop. Kim stood in the middle of the property taking it all in—the squeals of laughter from delighted children, the sight of wheelbarrows being filled to the brim, and more volunteers than they had ever had. The number of people who were willing to give up their Saturday morning to shovel horse poop was remarkable. The local news had given them additional exposure with a story about the unusual fund-raiser.
Several people had already approached Kim, saying they wanted to start volunteering on a regular basis. She had wanted to hug each one and tell them how much they were needed. With Hope Reins coming up on its third year of operation, word was getting out, and they were receiving more session referrals than they had volunteers to staff. A waiting list had been created, and some families were having to wait several months before securing a session time.
While there was less worry about having funds for the day-to-day care of the horses, things were still tight. Kim hated the idea of turning families away who needed help, but without money to hire part-time session leaders, the responsibility fell on volunteers. Volunteers, especially those with horse experience, were hard to come by.
Kim couldn’t say no to some of the recent referrals she had received. Calls such as the one from the widow of a soldier who took his own life after returning home from Iraq, whose two young children were now lost without their dad. Or the plea from a distraught mother whose six-year-old daughter had been sexually assaulted at her former school and was experiencing debilitating anxiety. Kim couldn’t turn them away.
“Thank you, God, for providing,” she whispered, after four different people told her they wanted to serve as session leaders.
The exuberant mayhem pulled Kim out of her thoughts. Sarah was showing a young boy how to effectively pick up a pile of manure with a pitchfork. She’s such a different person from a year and a half ago, Kim marveled.
So much had changed since then. Joey had become the most requested horse at sessions, delighting children with his impressive list of vocal commands and his ability to be ridden bareback. Lauren had been placed on a new medication that seemed to be helping her pain a great deal. She was even serving as head trainer now. Aly was still reserved, but was talking more and more each time she came. She had brought a friend with her today—the two girls had bonded over a shared love of horses. And after her last session with Aly, Sarah had even told Kim that the little girl asked if someday she could ride Joey sitting backward! Apparently she had seen a YouTube video where a girl was sitting backward on a horse while being led around an arena. It seemed that little Aly had become quite fearless.
Yes, Sarah is flourishing. In fact, Kim was hoping that someday in the near future she could officially add the horse care and wellness position to the permanent staff and pay Sarah a salary. At the moment Sarah seemed quite content with things as they were, which possibly had something to do with a certain vet who was sp
ending more and more of his free time at the ranch. Dr. Gallagher was all too eager to make ranch calls these days, and always seemed to need to consult with Sarah. Kim was truly delighted that the two were becoming good friends.
Kim’s daughter ran over to her.
“Mama, come on. Come scoop some poop with us!”
How could she refuse that kind of fun?
Months later, on Christmas Eve morning, Kim found herself up earlier than planned. She had so much to do at home—food to prep, presents to wrap, and a house to clean—but she wanted to start her morning at Hope Reins. The sun had just crested the tree line, launching its glowing rays across the fields. The weather was chilly, but she knew she would warm up as she walked around.
A verse she had read the night before replayed in her mind. “But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.” That’s exactly what she was experiencing this morning, standing here at the ranch God had miraculously provided, among horses he had led them to, with the sweet memory of excited children’s voices that would once again fill the fields in a few months. She had seen God do amazing things—life-changing, eternity-altering things—treasures she would always keep and ponder in her heart.
“God, you are so good,” she prayed aloud. “I’m sorry that I doubt you so much. Thank you for providing this place, these horses, the kids and adults. Lord, you overwhelm me with your goodness and grace.”
The cool air was invigorating. “This season is all about you. Let this place be all about you too—always. Let Hope Reins be a place where people can find you. Use this ministry to shine your light in a dark world. Use us, broken and sinful people, to point others to you.”
As she continued her circuit, she prayed over each horse, over each child whose name she could remember, over every staff member and volunteer. She prayed for her family, for her friends, and for those who were hurting this season. Finally, her wandering ended at paddock two. She entered the gate and walked straight to the horse who held her heart.
“Hey, sweet boy,” she greeted Joey, rubbing his neck just under his mane. His winter coat was thickening nicely.
“You are so beautiful,” she said, leaning into the horse.
Joey rubbed his cheek against hers, just as he did when they first met on Tom’s farm.
“What would we have done without you?” she wondered aloud. Of course, God would have still provided and moved in some other way, but she was grateful that he had chosen to work through the horse standing beside her.
“You are an answered prayer, you know that?” she said, placing a kiss on a large black spot. “It was a prayer I didn’t even know I needed to pray, but God did. And he answered it with you, Joey—beautifully broken, yet completely whole. Merry Christmas.”
CHAPTER 22
AS CHRISTMAS GAVE WAY to New Year’s and winter gave way to spring, Hope Reins was once again buzzing with activity. Thanks to the addition of several more volunteers, they had been able to increase the number of weekly sessions and help more families. Joey and Spirit had fallen into a comfortable companionship. All the horses were healthy at the moment.
The day after Easter, Aly had dazzled everyone by riding bareback and backward! She and Sarah had been working on it for several weeks. When they felt ready, Sarah asked Kim and Lauren to be there for Aly’s session. She promised a surprise.
Kim’s mouth had hung open for the entire demonstration—Aly trotting around the arena on Joey’s back with Sarah holding on to the lead rope as a security measure.
When Aly was finished with her ride, Kim asked her why she had wanted to ride backward.
“Joey can’t see where he’s going, so I didn’t want to see where I was going,” she answered.
The tiny rider had a lot of wisdom at such a young age.
Now, as Kim walked to the office for a meeting with Barb, the recently designated vice president of Hope Reins, she noticed Lauren and Sarah standing with Joey. Their body language told her that something was wrong. She walked quickly toward the paddock.
“What’s going on?” she called out as she entered the gate.
Sarah’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure. He’s just not himself. I came out to check the water level in the trough and found him pawing hard at the ground. He didn’t even seem to know I was here.”
“I was with Deetz when Sarah texted me,” Lauren said.
He does seem agitated, Kim thought. Could it be colic? Joey had been the healthiest horse in the herd. But now he was sweating profusely. Kim pulled out her phone to call Dr. Gallagher.
“I don’t think Ryan has to be at work until noon today, so he should be able to come to the ranch,” Sarah said, looking slightly embarrassed that she knew the veterinarian’s schedule.
Kim, however, was quite grateful for the relationship that the two tried unsuccessfully to hide.
“Joey,” Kim said softly, rubbing his cheek.
The horse’s ears flicked at his name, then he stretched his head back toward his side. He straightened his neck for a minute and then forcefully thrust his head back to his side again. It was quite obvious that he was in pain.
The three women stayed with him until Dr. Gallagher arrived twenty minutes later. After they filled him in on what they had observed, the vet performed a quick examination—taking Joey’s temperature and pulse, timing his respirations, and listening to his abdomen. He even walked Joey around the paddock to observe him in motion.
Dr. Gallagher told the concerned trio he suspected Joey might be having a mild colic episode—abdominal discomfort most likely due to gas.
Knowing how well Essie had responded to treatments, Kim was relieved. She knew that colic was common in horses, occurring for many different reasons. The majority of the time, medication took care of the problem. But colic could also be fatal, so every case was considered a potential emergency and had to be acted upon as quickly as possible.
“Let’s watch him for now and see how he does the rest of the day,” Dr. Gallagher advised. “I’ll give him a dose of Banamine, which should help. And then I want you to walk him, at a slow to moderate pace, for about thirty minutes. Make sure he drinks plenty of water, and we’ll make some changes to his diet. I’m hopeful this is a onetime episode that will resolve itself soon.”
“And if not?” Kim asked, frightened of the answer.
Dr. Gallagher patted Joey’s back.
“Then we will do everything we can to get this boy up and running again.” He looked at Kim. “I really think this is a onetime happening. Try not to jump to worst-case scenarios right now.”
The vet knew her too well.
“Keep me posted,” he said, as Sarah accompanied him to his car. “I’ll stop by on my way home this evening to check on him.”
Kim and Lauren walked Joey around the paddock several times, grateful for something to do.
“Are you worried?” Lauren asked.
“I could lie and say no,” Kim admitted, with a half-hearted laugh. “But truthfully, the idea of anything happening to Joey makes me panic.”
She assessed the horse as he walked, relieved to find him looking and acting more like himself.
“I mean, he’s Joey,” Kim said, knowing that Lauren understood. “He’s become such a fixture that it’s hard to imagine Hope Reins without him.”
One more lap and their thirty minutes would be up. Joey had passed gas percussively, and now he strained his head in search of Spirit, who was standing near the oak tree in the middle of the field. Joey seemed to be doing just fine. But Kim couldn’t shake a feeling of apprehension.
Was this really a onetime thing? Or was something more serious happening to her dear friend?
Worry and trust. Would she ever cease battling for trust?
God, please let Joey be okay, she silently prayed as Lauren took Joey’s halter off and he made his way to Spirit. Please let this be as minor as Ryan thinks. Then she forced herself to say the next words aloud: “But if not, Lord, please give us all the st
rength to face whatever lies ahead.”
CHAPTER 23
THE SWEATING HORSE took a shaky step and then another. He craned his neck as far back as it would go and bumped his head against his side, nipping at the twisting pain in his abdomen. He tried to fight it. Tried to kick it away. But the pain continued to build. He bent his head low, twisted his neck, and then dropped to the earth in desperation, frantically rolling to escape from the pain.
His body violently thrashed around his familiar paddock. His head banged into the wooden hay box, and his hooves kicked a fence post. He heard a faint nicker nearby as well as other night sounds all around him, but the pain was too excruciating. He rolled again. And again. And again—frantically.
Dawn brought no relief, only the aftermath of his fight against the pain—dirt covered his coat, blood oozed from cuts on his head, leaves and hay were matted in his mane. Still he rolled, trying in vain to free himself from the torment.
“Dear Lord in heaven,” the horse heard the human named Hank say. And then—for just a moment—all was quiet.
Lauren could not wrap her head around what was going on. Six months earlier, after Dr. Gallagher examined Joey and said that Joey had a minor, onetime incident of colic, Joey had bounced back almost immediately. She fought hard against the tidal wave of panic that threatened to wash her determination away. She couldn’t lose it. Not now.
She slammed the door of her truck, wishing she could open it and slam it again and again until it came off its hinges. She headed down the path she had walked countless times over the past four years, since that first day when Speckles and Joey were unloaded. Her throat tightened. No, no, no, Lauren, she chastised herself. You will not do this right now. She forced herself to hurry, although she was terrified of what she would find. Lord, I can’t. I can’t! Please help me, she silently pleaded.
There he was. Standing just outside his paddock with Kim on one side and Barb on the other. Jo Anne and Hank stood in front of him. “Oh, Joey.” The whispered cry escaped her lips. “What happened?”
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