Cara hadn’t made it to the corral when a hoarse bray shattered the yard’s relative quiet. The tiny, spotted donkey galloped from behind the house. She almost trod on Cara’s toes in her efforts to have her ears stroked. Zach shook his head and grinned. Willow the donkey had eyes as blue as her owner’s.
“Every time I’ve come here over the last three weeks, you’ve been gone,” Cara commented. “Are you okay?”
“Not really,” he admitted. The woman’s soothingcalmdid a lot to restore some much-needed balance.
“What’s up?” she asked, tilting her head at him.
So he told her. He wasn’t intending to, not the entire story, anyway. But it all rolled out of him, involuntarily. Meeting Jessie, and the fact she was missing. Even the searching, although he didn’t admit to how he was doing it. He told Cara he was driving the streets, looking for her.
No one knew of his secret. It was safer that way.
Her eyes darkened in sympathy. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Zach. How awful. I heard about those poor girls. I hope the police find them.”
“Yeah, me too. I’m having no luck.”
Cara scrutinized him. “You look kinda frayed. I think you need a break from the search. You won’t do anyone any good by killing yourself out there.”
He did feel frayed. Fragile as hell, to be honest. Wasn’t sure he could take another day of the emotional battering ram.
It had been three weeks. Cara was right. It was time to quit.
Cara pushed past the donkey and approached the corral. “I’ve been admiring your new acquisition. She didn’t dismantle your trailer, I take it?” Cara had been at the auction and witnessed the ruckus when they’d tried to load her.
“Few dents, but not too bad.”
“Have you named her, yet?”
“Storm, I think,” Zach said. “Watch yourself. She’s had a couple of goes at me.”
“Good name.” Cara stopped at the panels. “Perfect for such a strong mare.” When she turned her head, the crystals in her hair chimed softly. She looked toward the corral’s second occupant. “See you’ve recruited Tucker.”
“Yeah. He’s helping to calm her down.”
In the corral, Tucker stood, swishing at the odd early spring mosquito. The new mare stayed near him. Tucker’s trust in Zach should rub off in time. Meanwhile, Storm and Zach kept wary eyes on each other, but the mare didn’t attack.
Storm was Tucker’s opposite. There was nothing mentally slow about her.
“Boss mare,” Cara offered.
The woman was like that. She possessed an uncanny ability to see through to the core of things. Zach nodded. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t the stallions who ran the show. In the wild, Storm would have been the true herd leader, the one who took them to food and water, who looked after the daily rhythms of life. One look from her, one flick of the ear, and any herd miscreant would have moved back into line.
Boss mares could be amazing riding horses if humans formed a partnership with them based on a careful balance of trust and respect. Mares, especially boss mares, needed to know the reasons why.
“She’s been pushed around. Her opinions ignored,” Cara continued.
“Yeah, that’s my guess, too,” Zach said. “Someone’s brutally forced her without any explanations.”
Cara nodded. “Yeah. Some might put up with it, but thejust do itmentality doesn’t fly with horses like her.”
Judging by the scars on Storm’s body, she’d had a lot ofjust do its. Up to and including old rope burns on her legs from someone forcing her to the ground.
It wasn’t something he’d seen before in Manitoba. Most of his charity cases were badly misunderstood but not openly abused. Of course, abuse came in many forms. This mare had seen the worst kind of it.
“She has a wild look to her,” Cara piped in.
Zach had been groping for the mare’s origins ever since he picked her up. She was a blue roan, with black legs, mane, and tail that contrasted a gray body. White hair splashed both hinds, and a broad blaze adorned her face. By her build, she definitely wasn’t a horse bred for the English riding market. Stout and powerful, she had good-sized bones and large hooves. Well put together, but for endurance and strength, not fancy gaits.
Despite her being at the farm for over two weeks, he still hadn’t gotten close to her. Tucker’s steadying influence had led to a major breakthrough, however. Storm no longer tried to kill Zach when he came into the corral. The first time she’d tried with Tucker in there, the big gelding had jumped forward and put his body between her and Zach. Then he’d given her the worst “I will kill you” look—all flattened ears and bared teeth.
