by Karen Rock
“That he was born out of wedlock,” breathed Jewel, her eyes wide.
“Did you marry Pa because you had to?” Justin practically fire-breathed.
“No.” Ma paused and her lids lowered. “I loved your father. Boyd and I agreed we just weren’t meant to be.”
“Until now.” Boyd gathered her hand in his and turned it over gently, as if examining a precious artifact. Ma’s lashes rose, and they exchanged a long look, anguish mixed with hope tangled in something Jared struggled to name, but felt: wonder.
Was this what Ma meant when she said love was more a feeling than a knowing?
“Then we tried breaking you two up again.” Heath’s lips vibrated with the force of his exhale. “That’s not called karma... It’s...what’s the word? It’s...”
“Rotten,” Jared supplied, firm. “Sticking our noses where they don’t belong.” He stuck a hand out to Boyd. “Sorry, sir.”
Boyd pumped his hand, then released it. “According to Maverick, you’ve been doing a good job at Spirit Ranch.”
“Maverick said that?” Jared’s eyes swept to his nemesis.
Maverick shrugged. “I call it like I see it.”
“Thanks, man.” Compliments flowed in Jared’s direction regularly, but hearing one from taciturn Maverick somehow meant more.
He wasn’t going soft and getting friendly with a Loveland was he?
“Does this mean we get to call Jack a bastard during the wedding toast?” Justin’s dark eyes glinted with either humor or menace...never easy to decipher with him.
His mother sputtered on her drink and lowered her glass. “No—” Cough. Cough. “I—”
“Kidding, Ma. Jeez.” Justin’s teeth flashed white against his dark facial scruff.
The group breathed a collective sigh of relief.
“How about we let these two finish their dinner?” Heath stood and assisted Jewel out of the bench seat.
Justin angled his head at the pair, caught Jared’s eye and mouthed, “Whaaaaat?” Jared rubbed his eyes to be sure his vision worked correctly. Since when had Jewel ever needed help, let alone accepted it?
“Anyone for pool?” asked Maverick. His gaze swept over the group, then stopped on Jared.
“Only if you’re in the mood to part with some money.”
Maverick grinned. “You’re on.”
“Does this mean the feud’s over?” Jared grabbed a pool stick a moment later and began chalking it.
Maverick dropped the balls in the holder, then straightened, one side of his mouth lifting.
“Heck, no.”
* * *
“FIFTEEN, TEN!” AMBERLEY heard Jared holler as she and Harley thundered by him in a choking cloud of dust. She wheeled her black stallion around and trotted back to the fence, breathing hard. Sweat streamed down the back of her shirt, and the reins slid inside her slick fingers. She brushed the grit from her mouth and eyes.
“Pull up!” Jared called, but she’d already anticipated the distance and reined in Harley a yard from the gate. Harley’s steaming sides heaved beneath her legs. Flinging back his head, he shook his silver mane, and she heard him blow hard. The pungent smell of his lather filled her nose.
What a champion. They’d been practicing for hours in the relentless summer heat, and he’d responded to every cue without hesitation, his trust, his determination to please her unfailing. No horse had more heart, more grit than Harley.
It was hard explaining the connection between a rider and a horse to someone who wasn’t a horse person. The bond grew out of constantly taking care of each other, making sure the other one felt supported and loved. Harley gave and gave and gave. No matter what, he’d always been there for her—in the rink, in the stable—and he provided the same support to the Spirit Ranch children. His affectionate nature made him beloved in their small world, as much a star as he’d once been on the rodeo circuit.
“I’ll get you back there soon, boy,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, her throat raw. Leaning forward, she stroked Harley’s wet neck.
She rolled her eyes up to Jared’s blurred shape as he approached, Petey by his side. He’d donned a white hat today, she made out, and she pictured how it must be bringing out the golden brown of his eyes and contrasting nicely with his tan skin. Despite her resolve to focus only on riding this week, a flutter of awareness skittered over her skin.
It’d been a week since he’d held her, kissed her, and she missed his touch with a bone-deep ache. Her need for him shocked her, but she’d stayed strong, wanting to be sure he wouldn’t take what she offered just because it came easy. If he worked to win her, he’d prove his feelings were real and meant to last. She’d accept nothing less.
“Fifteen ten?” she croaked out, repeating the time, hoping she had it wrong.
“You shaved off a tenth of a second.” Jared’s approving tone broadcasted “good enough.”
Amberley laid her cheek atop Harley’s head as he shifted on his hooves and tucked his nose into his chest. “I need to be in the fourteens for the tryouts.”
“You’ll get there.”
She buried her shaking fingers in Harley’s damp mane, hiding the tremble that seized her exhausted muscles. Pain wrapped around her spine and knotted in her shoulders. She rolled one, then the other, hoping to ease the gripping tension.
Jared sauntered closer and pressed what felt like a water bottle in her hand. “Let’s call it a day.”
She shoved herself upright. “We can get under fifteen. One more run.”
“Nah. Save it for tomorrow.”
She brought the water to her lips, and the cool fluid splashed down her throat, easing the burn. “We practiced an hour longer yesterday.”
“It wasn’t ninety-five degrees yesterday.”
She nodded. Still, she had to push herself or she’d never make the ERA Premier touring team. Winning consecutive world championships hadn’t guaranteed her a spot in the past. She doubted this time would be any different. Still, she’d give it her all. In fact, the stacked odds only drove her harder. The children planned on attending the tryouts; she wanted to show them having a disability never stopped you from chasing your dreams.
She passed him back the half-empty bottle. “Give the rest to Petey. We’ll quit right after this last run.”
A frustrated sound, half groan and half sigh, escaped Jared. “Stubborn woman.”
She tapped the top of her Stetson and squeezed Harley’s billowing sides to get him moving again. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It is,” he shouted after her, his voice warm.
Daddy, if you’re watching, maybe just use one eye...okay?
Harley jerked into a gallop at her signal and veered toward the first barrel, its position so familiar to her now, she could almost close her eyes.
“Too wide, angle in ten degrees,” she heard Jared say through the walkie-talkie.
Harley didn’t adjust when she tugged on the reins. A beat of concern fluttered inside. She pulled harder and breathed a quick sigh of relief as he swerved last minute. Then they flashed by and swept around the first barrel. Wide.
She leaned low over his neck and gave him his head. “Come on, boy,” she urged. They’d lost precious time there. Harley elongated his stride, and his hooves churned up the rink as they hurtled to the second barrel...his gait a bit jerky.
A trickle of fear formed in the back of Amberley’s mind. Was Harley flagging? Horses made mistakes when they were overtired. Dangerous ones.
“Coming on the next barrel. Angle back,” Jared called sooner than necessary, she judged, based on her counting. He must be worried Harley might balk at the approaching wall.
She held her position a beat longer, wanting to give Harley maximum speed going into this turn. They had to get under fourteen seconds.
Yellow flashed as they das
hed by the second barrel, then past. Too far! Cold-hot shock swarmed inside when Harley sprinted headlong at the wall. She leaned, struggling to turn him, but he responded a beat too late and his hips slid out from under him. The ground rose to meet them, then dropped as he reared, squealing, attempting to jump over the barrel to keep them upright. To save her. To save them both.
His hooves flailed and then he stumbled, tripped by the obstacle. She heard Jared holler and then a pop, a sickening sound like a gunshot, before Harley dropped to the dirt, kicking and jerking.
Her pulse slammed in her veins and her harsh breath sounded in her ears. Harley! He rolled side to side, his tail lashing. His agonized cries tore right through her chest and ripped her heart out.
Strong hands grabbed her beneath her arms and hauled her out from under Harley’s crushing weight. Petey raced around in a black-and-white streak barking frantically.
“Are you okay?” Jared choked out, clasping her tight. Petey butted her legs, sniffing and woofing. “Petey, down!” Jared ordered. The dog quieted and Jared’s fingers ran the length of her, but she jerked free and fell to her knees beside her injured horse. “Harley!” Tears streamed down her face, the world a waterfall, a deluge of agony.
Jared kneeled beside her. “What happened?”
Panic closed on her tongue and refused to surrender even one word as Harley continued struggling to stand, neighing wildly. She felt his eyes on her, pleading for her help, confused and full of pain. When she reached for his thrashing limbs to assess his injuries, Jared yanked her back.
“Put this over his eyes and stay clear.” Something soft, his T-shirt by its laundry-soap smell, dropped in her hands.
She scrambled to Harley’s head, draped the cloth over his eyes, then pressed her face to his, her heart pounding erratically. “It’s okay, boy,” she crooned, trying to calm him so Jared could check his legs. Harley stilled, listening close, trusting her like he always did. “You’re going to be okay.” Her voice cracked, because he might not be okay...she’d heard a popping sound.
“His front left leg isn’t bending,” Jared said, grim.
Her thoughts skipped and skidded and skittered. No. Not Harley. A broken leg sentenced horses to death. A black tide of fear overwhelmed her.
“Shhhhhhhhhhhh,” she crooned to Harley, her chest aching. He pulled back his lips and pressed his teeth against her neck. Tears splashed down her face at his familiar, loving gesture. Even in this horrible, horrible moment, he wanted to reassure her. To take care of her.
She had to save him.
“Saw what happened,” she heard someone huff, out of breath. James, Jared’s older brother, she guessed. “Can he get up?”
“Not on his own. His leg could be broken.”
Silence fell as she continued stroking Harley’s quivering nose. Then he squealed in pain again and heaved. Petey howled, then hushed. Her pulse thundered in her veins.
“He won’t let me touch it long enough to be certain,” James uttered. “But it’s paining him like a break.”
“I just called Dr. Cooper,” gasped another voice. Female. Jewel, Amberley guessed. “His wife says he’s out on an emergency call. Stable fire. She’s not sure how quick he’ll be able to come. Could be hours, but she said she’d try to find someone else.”
Harley’s jerking movements slowed, his strength ebbing. “Hang in there, Harley!” Amberley whispered in his ear.
“He’s suffering,” James said heavily. “Amberley, what’s your call?”
In the sudden silence, Harley’s breathing labored.
“Amberley?” Jared smoothed a hand over her brow.
She lifted her head slowly. It weighed a million pounds. “He’s not getting up on his own steam.”
“What do you want to do, sweetheart?”
Do? She wanted to reverse the clock, back to the time when she should have paid attention to her exhausted horse, not her racing time. She’d failed Harley completely.
“I can take care of,” James cleared his throat “things, if you all want to head back to the house.”
“No!” she wouldn’t leave Harley just like he wouldn’t leave her. Ever. She didn’t need to ask James how he’d “take care of things.” On the rodeo circuit, she’d witnessed animals put down when euthanasia wasn’t available.
And maybe a bullet equaled a humane solution, but she couldn’t let Harley go this way. He was a fighter. They’d battle through together. But if he stayed down too long, his temperature would drop and his organs fail. Plus, the pressure of his body on the hard ground might damage the nerves on that side of him.
“I’ve got an idea. Come, Petey!” Jared pressed a kiss to her forehead and hurried off.
She buried her face in Harley’s neck and threw her arms around him, giving him as best a hug as she could manage, knowing how much he loved them. Would this be the last one they ever shared? She could. Not. Bear. It.
He lifted his head, then dropped it again, and a female hand slipped into hers. “We’re here for you, Amberley,” Jewel said.
“We’ll do everything we can for him,” James added. “Whatever you want.”
“Thank you.”
Minutes felt like hours as she stroked Harley, over and over, murmuring to him, telling him how much she loved him, what a great horse he was, the best horse, how happy he made her and how she was right here so he shouldn’t be afraid. She wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him.
You just did, hissed the devil on one shoulder.
The angel on her other shoulder didn’t speak a word in her defense. There wasn’t any.
The mechanical hum of an engine burbled in the distance a while later. It grew louder and louder as some kind of vehicle approached.
“Jared!” she heard Jewel exclaim. “He’s got the skid loader.”
“He’s attached the crane,” James observed.
“How many pounds will it lift?” Jewel asked.
“Could be enough for Harley.” James’s shadow fell on her as he stood.
The engine snapped off, then Jared asked, “Who’s ready to be a hero?”
Hope sparked beneath her heart, lifting it like a Chinese lantern in the dark. Jared. Her champion and hero. She didn’t need to put him through any more tests. He’d more than proved himself.
The Cades hustled around Harley, sliding something under one side of him, then rolling him over to pull it the rest of the way beneath him. Petey’s shape flew back and forth, from one end of Harley to the other, supervising, his innate responsibility to protect other animals kicking in.
“Slide that bar through there,” she heard Jared order, then chains rattled and the winch whined.
“Careful!” James shouted. Then “Hold.” Followed by what must have been a thumbs-up or some other signal that started the process over.
She held her breath, straining to see. Slowly the black blur of Harley on the ground rose and rose and rose until he stood, held upright in the sling.
“Okay?” Jared called.
She nodded, beyond words grateful to him. He’d given Harley a reprieve until a veterinarian arrived.
Would help come in time?
Chapter Twelve
“IS HARLEY GONNA be alright?” called a young girl’s voice from atop her mount. Amberley recognized Emily’s slight lisp.
Like the rest of the children, she’d stopped by every day this past week to check on their favorite horse. Some, like Emily, visited even during their non-therapy program days. Homemade cards festooned the stall’s doorway, overlapping one another to fit the space. Treats, including oat, molasses and berry bars Jared concocted with the group, overflowed the back shelf. A large Get Well Soon, Harley sign, decorated with glitter glue and horse stickers, hung from his stall door.
“We’re sure hoping so.”
Amberley snapped off the hose wand. T
he spray of cool water, aimed at Harley’s injured leg to reduce the inflammation, slowed, trickled, then stopped. Uncaring about the wet, Petey huddled at her feet. Since the accident, he’d acted more protective than ever, refusing to leave her side except when he’d taken, and passed, his therapy dog test yesterday.
“He’ll be just fine,” said a woman, joining them. “He’s going to need some TLC for a few months, but eventually he’ll be nearly good as new.”
“He’s good no matter what!” Emily cried, staunch, then her parent led her away. Deep down, Amberley knew she and the rest of the children identified with Harley’s lameness.
As wounded warriors, their common cause, the battle not only to survive, but to thrive, united them. They succeeded by their own measures and accepted themselves as they were designed. Flaws, injuries, illnesses represented badges of honor worn with pride. They marked you as someone whom life tested, an individual facing constant challenges, a survivor who’d never quit fighting, just like Harley.
Just like her.
“Hi, Dr. Loveland.” Amberley smiled in the woman’s direction. Luckily Dr. Cooper’s wife had reached Sierra Loveland, Maverick’s sister and a wildlife vet, to fill in for her husband. Sierra’s quick action, as well as Jared’s clever maneuver to keep Harley vertical while awaiting help, saved Harley’s life.
An on-site ultrasound revealed he’d torn his deep digital flexor tendon, the most serious soft-tissue injury a horse could get. Harley couldn’t bend or bear weight on it because the tendon stabilized the leg and flexed the lower joints.
After Sierra applied a splint and administered anti-inflammatory and pain medication, they’d carefully led Harley back to the Cades’ stable for an overnight watch. It’d been the longest twenty-four hours of Amberley’s life, filled with misery, panic, fear and exhaustion.
When he’d stabilized enough, he’d transferred back to Spirit Ranch the next day for stall rest. Ever since, Amberley had been by his side, sleeping, eating, reading out loud to him, even playing his favorite music—banjo-heavy bluegrass tunes that made his ears twitch and his tail swish.
