“A little concerned about Bonnet. Something’s off.” I think back through the day, wondering if there were signs of trouble that I missed. “She left some of her food.”
Bluebonnet squeezes my hand. “Want to go back over there now? I’ll go with you.”
“You need to eat. But afterward, I’d like to check on her.”
Dallas gets in line behind us. “Hey.” He drops his voice to a whisper. “Want to see something funny?”
“Sure.” Bluebonnet flashes a smile.
“Goldie, hey! Save me a seat.” He grins.
Goldie waves at him, then pats the table beside her. “Right here.”
Dag, who is standing in front of us, whips around and walks up to Dallas. “What’s going on? You show up and dance with her. You sit with her at dinner. What are your intentions with Goldie?”
Dag and Dallas are both in their thirties, so this high-school type behavior somehow seems even funnier.
Dallas crosses his arms and looks up at Dag, who is about five inches taller. “My intention is to be her friend. Is that a problem for you?”
“I just don’t want you giving her mixed signals.” Dag drops his voice menacingly low. “You hear me?”
Calm, Dallas steps closer. “I’m not the one who took her dancing, then left her alone while I danced with other people.”
Dag opens his mouth, snaps it closed, then leans in close. “If you hurt her, I’ll hurt you.”
Dallas puts his hand up in a defensive position. “I’m not hurting anyone. And don’t plan to.”
Shaking her head, Ava walks over and guides Dag to the food. “Y’all be nice.”
“Did you know living on the ranch could be so exciting?”
Bluebonnet laughs, but it has a nervous edge. “Do you really think he’ll hurt him?”
“I don’t think so, but I’ve been wrong before.” I drape an arm around her. “They should be okay.”
* * *
After dinner,Bluebonnet and I go back to the barn. And it’s not good. Bonnet is curling her lip and nosing at her side.
My stomach sinks, and I’m at risk of losing my dinner. The way she’s behaving makes me think she has colic. It’s treatable, but it can also be fatal. I turn to Bluebonnet. “I need your help.”
She rubs my shoulder, then steps into the stall. “I keep my emergency bag in my truck. It’s parked outside the main house. Go grab it. I’ll start my exam.”
Nodding, I run out to my truck and kick up a lot of dust racing to get the bag.
And a few minutes later, I walk back into the barn.
Bluebonnet is checking Bonnet’s gums and eyes, and softly saying, “We’ll get you feeling better. I’m sorry you’re hurting.”
I drop the bag beside her. “I haven’t changed her food. We’ve kept to the same routine.” As a wrangler, I’ve had to deal with colic before, but it’s never been my horse. “I need her to be okay.”
Bluebonnet steps close. “Dumplin’, I’m going to do my best to make sure she gets through this. I promise.” She fishes a stethoscope out of her bag and presses the metal circle to Bonnet’s side. “Has she ever had colic before?”
“Never.” My horse starts pawing at the ground, and I’m trying to keep it together.
We run through more questions, then Bluebonnet nods toward her bag. “There should be some tubing in there, will you get it for me?”
I appreciate that Bluebonnet is giving me things to do. It’s better than staring and letting my thoughts grow dark.
