“That’d be great,” Hannah said, handing him the smaller case. His mother had raised the kid right.
He slouched along beside her as they walked through the barn toward Sharon Sydenstricker’s office. The place was bustling with stable hands leading glossy horses of all colors and sizes in and out of stalls. One young man passed with a wheelbarrow loaded with bags of feed, and Hannah inhaled the sweet, thick scent of molasses-infused grain. The hollow clomp of hooves, the musical jingle of metal buckles, and the occasional throaty whicker or irritated squeal of a horse brought back memories of her summer internship at a rural veterinary practice during vet school. She’d considered specializing in racehorse medicine because she’d enjoyed that summer but decided it was more practical to go for small domestic animals. It meant she could live in a city, which seemed desirable at the time.
That had led her to Chicago and Ward. She should have stuck to the Thoroughbreds. She turned her attention back to the boy just as a large black stallion was led past them. Matt veered sharply away from the horse and bumped into her, making her stagger.
“Sorry,” he said, keeping a wary eye on the big creature’s muscular haunches as the groom walked him away. “That one looked kind of mean.”
“And you wouldn’t want to get your foot under one of those hooves,” Hannah agreed. “That would grind a few bones.”
Matt gave her a look of gratitude. He must have been expecting her to scoff at his nervousness.
“Here we are,” Hannah said as they walked up to a human-sized door at the end of the barn. She walked inside the office to find the stable’s owner hunched in front of a computer screen, scowling.
“Thank the lord you’re here, doc,” Sharon said, spinning her desk chair around and leaping to her feet. “I can’t abide bookkeeping.”
“Sharon, meet Matt McNally. He’s my assistant today.” Hannah stifled a smile as Matt gaped at the six-foot tall horsewoman with her flyaway mop of flaming red hair. Every inch of Sharon Sydenstricker was in shape under the polo shirt and riding britches she wore. When she stepped around the desk to shake Matt’s hand, there was no mistaking the fluid motion indicating an elite-level athlete.
“Nice to meet you,” Sharon said.
“Nice to meet you too, Ms. Sydenstricker,” he said. Hannah felt an absurd spurt of pride at his manners.
Sharon gave her an I’m-impressed-and-surprised look before she said, “So Dr. Tim left you to do the heavy lifting while he’s off gallivanting in some foreign country? Lordy, I can’t keep track of where he and Claire are going next.”
“It’s lucky for me he wanted to gallivant,” Hannah pointed out. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have hired me.”
“Didn’t you come from some big city?” Sharon asked with casual friendliness as she led the way into the barn. “Sanctuary must seem real different.”
“In the best possible way,” Hannah said fervently. No political rallies, no charity galas, no reporters manufacturing scandals, and no Ward Miller to stomp on her heart.
“So Matt, where’d you live before you came here?” Sharon asked, clearly wanting to include him in the conversation.
Hannah held her breath.
“California,” he said, surprising her with his immediate response.
“That’s a trip and a half,” Sharon said. “I go out there a lot to pick up racehorses no one wants anymore. Some of ‘em make great jumpers.”
“What do you do with the rest of them?” Matt asked.
Sharon shrugged. “Give ’em a place to live.” She stopped in front of a stall. “Here’s your first victim, doc.”
The nameplate on the stall’s half door read: Don Diego’s Favorite Son.
“We call him Sonny,” Sharon said.
Remembering the boy’s fear of big animals, Hannah said, “Matt, maybe you should wait out here, just in case Sonny doesn’t like having so many people in his stall.”
“Nah, he’s a good horse,” Sharon said. “He won’t give you any trouble.”
Hannah saw the boy swallow hard and tried to think how to rescue him. “You know, I left my tablet in the pickup. Tim likes me to keep notes on the animals I see so I really need it. Would you mind getting it for me, Matt? You can help with the next horse.”
“No problem, Dr. Linden,” he said, practically singing at the reprieve. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he was out of earshot, Hannah lowered her voice, “He’s afraid of horses.”
“What in tarnation is he doing here then?” Sharon asked, amusement and exasperation in her face.
“It’s a long story,” Hannah said, walking in the stall to find a handsome bay gelding with black points gazing at her, his eyes bright with affable curiosity. “Sonny, my boy, how are you feeling today? We’re just going to give you a quick check up and a vaccination. Nothing to worry about.”
As Hannah ran her hands over the bay’s body, probing for any sign of discomfort, Sharon said, “He’s Adam Bosch’s boy, right?”
“Yup,” Hannah grunted, leaning over to pick up Sonny’s hoof. It had been awhile since she’d dealt with an animal this large. She really needed to work out more.
“Poor kid, he’s had a tough time of it.” Sharon shook her head. “Having his mother drown and all. Rumor has it Matt had never met his father until the mother died.”
Hannah straightened. “That’s heart-breaking. How could someone not want to meet their own child?” Even if she didn’t trust Adam’s polished façade, he still didn’t seem like the sort of man who would abandon a woman who was pregnant with his child. Maybe he was more like Ward than she thought. She was pretty sure her ex-fiancé would have claimed not to know how reproduction worked if he’d gotten another woman pregnant during his election campaign. And he would have convinced the media it was true.
“Adam has his own problems,” Sharon said with a shrug. “Maybe he didn’t want to involve Matt in them.”
Hannah’s interest in Adam got the better of her and she glanced out over the door of the stall to make sure Matt wasn’t approaching. “What kind of problems?”
Sharon tucked her hands into her breeches pockets. “Well, maybe I’d better let the man tell you himself. That way you can form your own opinion.”
Consumed by curiosity, Hannah made a mental note to ask Estelle about Adam’s issues. Then she went back to examining Sonny, loving the feel of the big, solid bones under his smooth coat and the warmth of his body in the enclosed stall. She’d forgotten how solid and reassuring the presence of a horse could be.
She finished Sonny’s checkup and gave him his shot, making sure to reward him with a horse treat for being such a good patient. She was feeling more confident about her large-animal skills now.
As she and Sharon walked out of the stall, Matt pushed himself off the wall where he’d been leaning. “I didn’t want to interrupt you,” he said, holding out the tablet.
“I appreciate that,” Hannah said, although she knew he was just making an excuse not to come into the stall. She made a show of tapping in some notes on Sonny so Matt’s pride wouldn’t take a hit.
Sharon strode down to another stall and turned. “This mare’s a bit touchy, so it’s best Matt not come in with us. She might get spooked.” She rubbed a finger against her chin. “You know if you want to go out back, there’s a few benches by the riding ring. You can hang out until we’re done.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Matt practically bolted for the back door of the barn.
“You’re a good person,” Hannah said to Sharon. “He would’ve died rather than admit he’s scared.”
Three more checkups completed her roster of patients at Healing Springs Stables. “Let’s go find your assistant,” Sharon said, after Hannah closed up her bag.
They strolled outside, where the slanting sunshine seemed to set the nearest mountains ablaze in scarlets and golds
. Hannah stopped a moment to absorb the beauty of the undulating ridges rolling away into the distance, the brilliant colors fading to cool blue on the furthest slopes. The nearer view offered white fences and horses scattered over rolling grass. She spotted Matt standing beside a paddock, staring between the fence rails.
“Matt, we’re done here,” she called, expecting him to greet her announcement with enthusiasm. Instead, he looked at her and then back into the paddock before he waved her over.
She exchanged a glance with Sharon, and they joined him by the fence.
Matt pointed toward one corner of the enclosed field. “I think there’s something wrong with that little horse over there.”
Hannah peered in the direction he was gesturing. She saw a chestnut pony, his coat dull and rough, with a wild puff of a flaxen mane and tail. He was standing away from all the other horses in the field, his head drooping and one back hoof propped on tiptoe. “He may just be napping,” she said. “Horses often sleep standing up.”
Matt shook his head. “Nah, he’s awake. Another little horse came over to him and he tried to bite him.”
“That’s Satchmo,” Sharon said. “His stall buddy down in Florida died, so he’s grieving. I brought him up here about a month ago, and he’s been down in the dumps ever since. I’m getting kind of worried about him.”
Hannah scanned Satchmo from head to tail, trying to pick up clues as to what was wrong. “Why don’t I take a look at him?”
“I’d be real grateful for that,” Sharon said, heading for the gate.
“Can I come too?” Matt asked, as Hannah followed. Her surprise must have been obvious because he shrugged and said, “He’s small.”
Hannah nodded and waved him through the open gate. “Tell me Satchmo’s history,” she said to Sharon as they walked toward the sad-looking pony.
“He was the stall buddy for Jazzman.” Sharon turned to Matt. “Some racehorses need company to keep them calm, so their trainers find them a friend. Sometimes it’s a dog or a goat. Seabiscuit had a monkey. In Jazzman’s case, it was a pony.”
Hannah recognized the name of the racehorse. “He was supposed to win the Triple Crown.”
“Until he developed acute laminitis, and they had to put him down,” Sharon said. “Such a tragedy. That horse could run.”
“So they killed Satchmo’s stall buddy?” Matt asked.
“I’m sure they tried everything they could to treat Jazzman’s laminitis,” Hannah said, feeling sympathy for the unknown vet who’d administered the final injection, “but it’s horribly painful when it becomes acute, so it was a mercy to the horse to euthanize him.” She decided not to point out that Jazzman was extremely valuable and therefore putting him down would have been a last resort for financial reasons, if nothing else. She hated being so cynical, but hard experience had taught her the realities of life among the rich, especially when it came to their animals.
“Man, that’s rough,” the boy said, stopping ten feet from the pony and eyeing him warily.
“Come on up and hold him for me,” Hannah said. His unexpected interest in the pony seemed like progress, so she wanted to encourage it.
He hung back. “He’s got big teeth.”
“I’ll show you how to hold his halter so he can’t bite you,” Hannah said. Satchmo finally turned to gaze at the three humans discussing him. His ears drooped toward the ground, giving him an air of listlessness. The pony didn’t look like he cared enough to snap at anyone, but Matt said he had, so she approached with caution. “Hey, Satchmo. How’s it going, fella?”
He offered no resistance when she slipped her fingers under the cheek strap of his halter and gripped it firmly. She ran her free hand over his neck, feeling the coarseness of his coat. It contrasted sharply with the glossy good health that shone in most of Sharon’s horses.
“He eats just enough to keep body and soul together,” Sharon said, “but he’s lost weight since he got here. Dr. Tim gave me some high-calorie supplements and vitamins to keep him from wasting away.”
Hannah kept hold of the halter with one hand, stretching sideways to probe along the pony’s back and ribcage with the other.
“I’ll take him,” Matt said from behind her as she came to the end of her reach. She was wondering why Sharon didn’t volunteer to help before she realized the horsewoman knew what she was doing when it came to people too.
“Great. Stand here beside his head so he can see you easily. Now take the cheek strap of his halter with your right hand.” Hannah said. “If he seems restless or uncomfortable when I touch him in a certain place, let me know. And you can stroke his nose to keep him calm, if you want.” She hoped she hadn’t pushed Matt too much with the last instruction.
The boy stepped up beside Satchmo’s head, moving gingerly. The pony flicked an ear but didn’t offer to bite him as Matt took the leather of the halter. The boy stood very still as though afraid any movement would set off an attack from Satchmo’s big, square teeth.
“Relax,” Hannah said, giving Matt’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. “He’s not much bigger than a dolphin.”
Matt gave her a nervous smile, but his stance remained rigid. As she went back to feeling the pony’s belly, she worried she might hit a sensitive spot and provoke Satchmo to nip at Matt. A quick glance sideways reassured her as she saw Sharon join Matt by the pony’s head. Now Hannah could focus on what was ailing the sad little creature. After giving Satchmo a thorough examination, she stood back to look at him, taking in all the visual cues again.
“I think you’re right, Sharon,” she said at last. “I can’t find anything physically wrong with him, so it must be an emotional issue.”
“That’s why I’ve got him in the field with other horses,” Sharon said. “I was hoping he’d find a new friend.”
Hannah noticed that Matt was carefully running his palm down Satchmo’s nose so she kept talking. “I notice you have a good variety of friends for him to choose from. Thoroughbreds, quarter horses, another pony.”
“That’s the one he tried to bite,” Matt said, switching hands on the halter so he could stroke down Satchmo’s neck. The pony blew out a loud breath and leaned into the boy, making him stagger slightly. Matt looked up at Hannah, his eyes wide. “Does that mean he likes being petted?”
“Yup, he wants more. Try scratching behind his ears.”
The boy’s face lit up and he reached for the base of the pony’s left ear. Satchmo lifted his head and brought it down to rest on top of Matt’s shoulder, his eyelids half-closed. “He likes me,” Matt said, shifting his ministrations to the other ear.
Hannah looked at Sharon, who was grinning from ear to ear as she watched the interaction between the boy and the pony. “I haven’t seen Satchmo look this happy since he walked out of the horse trailer that brought him here,” Sharon said. “You’ve got a gift, young ’un.”
“Really?” Matt said, giving the pony’s neck a long stroke. “You think I do?”
“I reckon so. You’d be doing me a big favor if you’d come out to visit Satchmo regular-like. Maybe you could even take a ride to exercise him.”
Matt seemed to have forgotten all about his fear of the pony’s teeth as he alternated between ears. Sharon’s last comment brought his fingers to a halt. “I don’t know how to ride.”
“No problem,” Sharon said. “I’m a decent teacher.”
Hannah coughed at the understatement.
Matt’s expression went from excited trepidation to flat disappointment. “I don’t have a way to get here and I can’t afford to pay you.”
“I’m sure your dad could help with both those things,” Hannah said. She was certain Adam would be thrilled to have his son involved with something so worthwhile for both him and the pony.
“Nah,” Matt said, dropping his hand and releasing Satchmo’s halter. “He’s busy with the restaurant in the afte
rnoons. And he’s not big on spending money.”
Hannah was stunned. The Aerie was beyond successful; the whole town knew Adam Bosch was a wealthy man because of it. Did he really withhold money from his son? She shook her head and glanced at Sharon. The other woman stood with her hands on her hips, frowning. “You’re the one who’s doing me a favor,” Sharon said, “so I’m not looking for money.”
Hannah surprised herself by saying, “I can give you a ride after I get off work. Maybe not every day, but we can work something out. We have to talk with your father first to make sure it’s all right with him.”
Now she was having second thoughts about how thrilled Adam would be over this new development. She looked at the drooping little pony and remembered the signs of life he’d shown when Matt touched him. She’d just have to convince the chef this was a good thing for his son too.
She glanced at her watch and sucked in her breath. “We have to go. The Zicafooses’ cows are waiting for us.” She turned to Matt. His hands were shoved into his jeans pockets and he was staring down at the toes of his faded, red sneakers. He looked as miserable as the pony. “Do you want to hang out with Satchmo a little longer?” she asked, thinking fast to come up with a reason to let him linger. “I need to go over some medications with Sharon in her office.”
“Nah, I’ll go wait in the truck,” he said, but she caught the longing glance he cast toward the pony.
The three of them left the paddock together and retrieved the veterinary cases from the stable. Matt veered off toward the parking lot while Hannah and Sharon walked toward the office to continue the pretense of needing to talk further. Sharon watched Matt disappear out of the barn before she said, “That boy has found his whisper horse.”
“His what?”
“Well, I guess it would be his whisper pony. The one he can tell all his troubles to,” Sharon said. “Everyone has a special horse—or pony—who will take on their burdens and help carry them. I reckon that boy has found his.”
Hannah eyed the tall woman walking beside her. “Isn’t Satchmo the one who needs help?”
The Place I Belong Page 5
