by Jo Ann Brown
Toby began to give the sleek horse a quick examination. “I need to make sure, while the horse was in the trailer, he didn’t injure himself without us noticing,” he said, answering the question she’d been thinking but hadn’t wanted to ask out loud.
She watched how Toby ran his hands along the horse, keeping it from shying away or rearing in fright. He kept his motions to a minimum, and if the horse began to tense, he soothed it with soft words.
Satisfied the horse was fine, Toby led him into the inner paddock and took off the lead rope. The horse galloped, happy to be out of the trailer and able to stretch out his legs.
“Pretty horse,” Natalie said in a wistful tone. The girl was as obsessed with horses as her daed.
The second horse, also dark in color, took his arrival in stride. He pranced into the paddock, dragging Ned with him, and stood like a statue during the examination. When Toby turned him out in the other paddock, he walked in as if coming home.
“That was easy,” Alexander said with a grin. “Too bad they aren’t all like that.”
Toby nodded but didn’t smile in return. Maybe his lips grew a little less taut.
When Alexander looked at her with an expression that asked What did I do wrong? she smiled and said, “Mr. Christner needs to concentrate. I’m sure he’ll be more ready to talk once he’s done.”
She wasn’t sure of that or why she was making excuses, other than she didn’t want Alexander to be hurt. The boy nodded, and she turned as the kinder did to watch the final horse being taken from the trailer.
Even she, who didn’t know much about horses beyond the quiet buggy horse she drove, could tell the bay prancing around Ned was magnificent. Muscles rippled beneath the sheen of his coat, and his black mane and tail floated on the air with each movement.
As soon as the horse was brought into the first paddock, Toby began the same swift examination he’d done with the others. He was squatting, checking the horse’s legs, when a gray barn cat flashed through the paddock. The horse started, whinnied, then reared in a panic.
Sarah tightened her grip on the younger kinder’s hands and called to Natalie and Alexander to back away from the fence. The horrified youngsters froze as the bay’s hooves pawed the air as if fighting off a giant invisible rival.
Mia screamed, “Look out, kitty!”
The little girl tore her hand out of Sarah’s and lunged toward the fence. Sarah grabbed Mia by the shoulders, tugging her back as the horse bucked toward them.
“Hold my hand and don’t let go,” Sarah ordered in not much more than a whisper. She didn’t want her voice to upset the horse more, though she doubted it could be heard in the paddock over the thuds from the horse’s hooves on the ground. “Nobody move. Nobody say a word.”
She stared at the paddock, horrified. Toby tried to calm the horse. He kept the horse from bucking by guiding it away from the fence. The horse jerked forward. He stumbled after it, refusing to let go of the lead. He grimaced and stutter-stepped. Dropping to one knee, he pushed himself up again. Fast.
Not fast enough. The horse was spinning to strike out at him again. It yanked the lead away from him.
Releasing the kinder’s hands, Sarah pushed aside the gate and ran into the paddock. Toby shouted as the Summerhays kids cried out in fear. Ned called a warning. She ignored them and tried to grab the rope, ducking so it didn’t strike her.
She’d handled a frightened animal before. When a new buggy horse had been spooked by a passing truck, she’d known she needed to reassure the horse and show it there was nothing to fear.
Not looking at the horse directly, she kept talking as she evaded its flashing hooves. She was relieved when Toby grabbed the horse’s halter. He stroked the shuddering animal but didn’t say anything while she continued to murmur. The horse began to grow calmer.
When she thought it was safe, she asked, “Where do you want him?”
“The inner paddock with the others.” Toby’s voice was clipped.
Was he upset with her for stepping in? No time to ask. She walked the horse to the gate and into the paddock. Unsnapping the lead, she moved slowly to keep from scaring the horse again.
The moment Sarah closed the gate, Alexander called out, “That was cool, Sarah!”
“Quiet. There’s no sense upsetting the horses more.”
Not waiting to see if the kids would cooperate, she went to where Toby was leaning against a fence post.
“How badly are you hurt?” she asked.
Instead of answering her, he asked, “Is Bay Boy okay?”
“He’s shivering,” she said, glancing at the other paddock, “but he’ll be okay.”
“You’ve got a way with horses.”
When she saw how he gritted his teeth on each word, she said, “You are hurt! Where?”
“I twisted my ankle. It’ll be okay once I walk it off.” He pushed himself away from the rail and took a step to prove it.
With a gasp, he sank to his left knee and grasped his right ankle.
She scanned the yard. Where was Ned? She didn’t see him anywhere.
“Alexander,” she shouted, “go inside and call 911. Right now!”
“I can call them from here.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.
“Quickly!”
Later, she’d remind Alexander he wasn’t supposed to have his phone for another week. He’d gotten in trouble while prank calling his friends because he was bored. By mistake, he’d reached the private phone of the police chief in the village of Salem. She wondered how the boy had retrieved his phone. She’d asked Mr. Summerhays to put it in his wall safe. With a grimace, she guessed Alexander had watched his daed open it often enough that he’d learned the combination. She’d have to find another way to make him atone for bothering the police chief.
At that thought, she added, “Dial carefully.”
He averted his eyes, a sure sign he knew a scolding would be coming his way once Toby was taken care of.
The call was made, and Alexander reported the rescue squad was on its way. He gave her the phone. Dropping it into a pocket under her black apron, she looked at Toby, who was trying not to show his pain.
Just as he hid every other emotion. What was he worried about revealing?
* * *
Everything, in Toby’s estimation, had gone wrong since J.J. had pulled the truck into the Summerhays’ long drive. The moment Toby had gone to the door and found an Amish woman there, he should have known this wasn’t going to be like other deliveries they’d made on this trip from Texas. He hadn’t guessed he’d be hurt by a horse he’d trained himself. A beginner’s mistake. After years of working with horses and convincing them it was better to behave, he should have been prepared for every possible move Bay Boy could have made.
At the worst moment, as the cat decided to chase something right under Bay Boy’s nose, Toby had let himself be distracted by Sarah and how the reflected sunlight off her gorgeous red hair seared his eyes. Dummkopf, he chided himself. He spent the past dozen years avoiding relationships, romantic or otherwise, and he’d been at Summerhays Stables less than two hours and already was thinking too much about her.
“Ned?” he managed to ask.
Sarah shrugged her slender shoulders. “I don’t know where he went. Komm with me,” she said in a tone that suggested he’d be wasting his time to protest. He guessed she used it often with the Summerhays kids. “You need to get your weight off that ankle before you hurt it worse.”
He wasn’t sure he could hurt it worse. Each time he took a breath, stabs of pain danced around his ankle, setting every nerve on fire.
“I’m fine right here.” The idea of moving was horrifying.
“There’s a bench on the other side of the fence. You can sit there until the EMTs arrive.”
She didn’t give him a chance to protest. Squatting,
she moved beneath his right arm, which she draped over her shoulders. The top of her kapp just missed his chin. She put her arm around him. With a strength he hadn’t expected, she assisted him to his feet. His face must have displayed his surprise.
“I’ve been wrangling four kinder, cowboy,” she said in an easy copy of his boss’s drawl. “One bumped-up cowboy is easy.”
“I’m sure it is.” He glanced at where the kids were watching, wide-eyed.
Why hadn’t she sent them into the house? He didn’t need an audience when he hopped along like a hobbled old man.
Pride is a sin. His daed’s voice ran through his head. Daed had always been skilled at preaching the dangers of hochmut. Maybe if he’d been a bit less judgmental, the family could have settled somewhere instead of continuously moving to another district.
Sharp pain coursed up his leg and down to his toes. Had he broken something? He didn’t think so. Was it only a sprain? Each movement was agonizing.
“It’s not far,” Sarah said.
To herself or to him? His weight must have been wearing on her slender shoulders, though she didn’t make a peep of complaint.
A scent that was sweet and woodsy at the same time drifted from her hair. She was careful to help absorb each motion as she helped him from the paddock and out onto the grass.
“This is far enough,” he said, panting as if he’d run across Texas.
“You’re right.” She hunkered down and let his arm slide off her shoulders.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“I’m okay.” She smiled, but her eyes were dim enough to confirm he was right. Her shoulders must be aching.
Toby was grateful when she waved the kinder aside and urged them to let him get some air. He thought they’d protest, but they turned as one when the distant sound of a siren resonated off the foothills, rising beyond the stable.
“They’re coming!” the older boy—Toby couldn’t recall his name through the curtain of pain—shouted.
The siren got louder moments before a square and boxy ambulance appeared around the side of J.J.’s trailer. The kids let out squeals of excitement, but Sarah hushed them. Had she guessed every sound reverberated through his throbbing ankle?
Two men jumped from the ambulance. Each one carried emergency supplies. Shouts came from the direction of the house, and Toby recognized his boss’s anxious voice.
What a mess he’d made of this! The boy he’d once been would have offered a prayer to God to bring him fast healing, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d reached out to God. He didn’t want to make that connection, either, remembering how his Heavenly Father seemed to stop listening to his prayers when Daed had moved them yet again before Toby had even finished unpacking the two boxes he took with him from one place to the next.
“Hi, Sarah!” said a dark-complexioned EMT who wore thick glasses. “What happened here?”
She explained and introduced Toby to the man she called George. The other EMT, a short balding man, was named Derek. They worked on the volunteer fire department with her brothers.
He didn’t want to know that. Everything she said, everyone she introduced him to, every moment while depending on someone threatened to make a connection to the farm and the community beyond it. To say that would sound ungrateful. He needed to focus on getting on his feet again so he could help with their next delivery.
As they knelt beside him, the two EMTs began asking him question after question. Ja, he replied, his right ankle hurt. No, he hadn’t heard a cracking sound when he stepped wrong. Ja, he’d stepped on it after feeling the first pain. No, it didn’t radiate pain except when he’d hopped to where he sat.
“Let’s get a look at it,” George said with a practiced smile. “Sorry if this hurts.”
That was an understatement. When George shifted Toby’s right foot and began to slip off his boot, the world telescoped into a black void of anguish sparked with lightning.
“Stay with us, Toby,” crooned Derek as he pushed up Toby’s sleeve and grabbed an IV needle and tube. “Slow deep breaths. Draw the air in and hold it and let it out. Nice and slow.” He kept repeating the words in a steady rhythm that was impossible not to follow.
The darkness receded, and the sunshine and the smells of animals and dirt rushed to awaken Toby’s senses.
“Back with us?” George asked.
“I think so.”
“Good. Breathe deeply. It’ll keep you from getting light-headed.” The EMT stuck the needle into Toby’s left arm.
Though Toby didn’t wince, he heard the kids groan in horror.
Sarah hushed them but gasped, “Oh, my!” when George rolled down Toby’s sock with care.
Her reaction was a warning, but Toby was shocked to see how swollen his ankle was. Twice its usual size, it was turning as purple as an eggplant.
“What’s happening here?” called J.J. as he reached the paddock with Mr. Summerhays in tow. Ned trailed after them like a half-forgotten pup. He must have gone inside to alert their boss to what had happened.
“A horse wanted to dance,” Toby replied with grim humor, “but he didn’t want me to lead.”
“Is he hurt bad?” J.J. looked past him to the EMTs.
“We’ll know when we get X-rays at the hospital,” George said.
“Hospital?” Toby shook his head. “Bind it, and it’ll be fine.”
“I didn’t realize you were a doctor, Mr. Christner.”
The kids giggled on cue, and Sarah smiled at the EMT’s jest. Yet, in her gaze, he could see her anxiety. He wanted to tell her not to worry about him, though he guessed he’d be wasting his breath. As much as she focused on the kinder, she might be the type to fret about every detail of every day.
The last kind of person he needed in his life.
If that was so, why did he keep thinking about how sweet it’d been to lean on her? She’d been strong and soft at the same time, a combination that teased him to learn more about her.
Toby shut his mouth before he could say something. Something that would make him embarrass himself more. He’d thought nothing could be worse than the pain in his ankle, but he’d been wrong. The only way to keep from saying the wrong thing again was to do what he always tried to do: say nothing.
Chapter Three
Hushing the kinder, Sarah moved aside to let the EMTs stabilize Toby’s ankle. How useless she felt! If she’d had the training she yearned for, she could have helped him instead of having to wait for the rescue squad to arrive.
“Sarah?”
She looked at Mr. Summerhays, who crooked a finger to her. Telling the youngsters not to move or interrupt the EMTs, she went to where her boss stood by the paddock fence.
Without preamble, he said, “I want you to go to the hospital with him.”
“Me? But why?” The words were out before she could halt them.
“Someone needs to go.” He glanced at J.J.
Sarah understood what her boss didn’t say. He wanted to get his business with the Texan taken care of as soon as possible. With the racing season underway at Saratoga, Mr. Summerhays made it a practice never to miss a single race of his horses or horses that might compete with his.
“Ned could go,” she said.
“Ned?” When she looked past Mr. Summerhays toward the overbearing cowboy, he frowned. “We’re going to need an extra hand to get the horses settled.”
“The kinder... I mean, the children—”
He interrupted her. “Leave them with Mrs. Beebe. She can watch them for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Okay.” What else could she say? Mr. Summerhays was her boss, and he was the kinder’s daed.
He held out a cell phone. “Use this to call for a ride when you’re done at the hospital.”
“I have a phone.” She pulled out Alexander’s.
“Oh.” Mr. Summerhays looked puzzled for a moment, not recognizing his son’s cell phone. “Well, good. I trust you to make sure he gets the best possible care. I’ll call the hospital to let them know that I’m responsible for the bill.”
“Ja, sir.” Though husband and wife were too distracted with their pursuits to give their kinder the time and attention they craved, they were generous. “I’ll call you—” She halted herself when he raised a single finger. “I meant, of course, I’ll call the house when we’re done at the hospital.”
“I can go and get him,” J.J. said as he came closer.
Mr. Summerhays waved aside his words. “Nonsense. There’s no need for you to put yourself out. Sarah can handle it. She’s had a lot of practice dealing with small crises like this.”
Wondering if Toby would describe his injured ankle as a small crisis, Sarah nodded as the two men turned to go to the house. When Mr. Summerhays paused long enough to remind her the kinder should be left with Mrs. Beebe, Sarah nodded again. She was sure the cook was going to be annoyed. Mrs. Beebe had to prepare food for the household while the kitchen was being taken apart. She would be relieved when it was redone with the finishes Mrs. Summerhays had chosen before she left for Europe, but the end of the project was still weeks away.
Sarah gathered the kinder and led them toward the house, though she would have preferred to stay and watch George and Derek work. Taking the youngsters up the ramp into the kitchen, she wasn’t surprised when Mrs. Beebe, who was as thin as one of the columns, frowned.
“Now?” The gray-haired cook sighed as the kinder spread out in the huge kitchen, checking the many boxes stacked in every available space, blocking tall windows and cupboards waiting to be ripped out. “If they tip a cabinet on themselves, we’ll need another ambulance.”
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Summerhays—”
“Go and do what he asked.” Mrs. Beebe waved her apron at Sarah. “I’ll find something to keep them out of trouble.”
Hoping the cook would do better than she had, Sarah rushed outside. She bumped into J.J., who was with Mr. Summerhays.
