I helped June through the gate with a few choice commands to the horses that tried to shoulder their way past. “Can you get her into her stall?”
“I think so.” She led Miss Kitty into the barn like an old hand. It had been a while, but Gram had taught her well. I tried to imagine what those Girl Scout afternoons had entailed. Probably a lot of practical instruction and just enough gentle encouragement from Gram to keep them interested. She’d always had the patience of a saint. How else had she managed to teach me my way around the ranch?
In another minute, June returned with the halter and lead rope, a huge smile across her face. “She’s all tucked away.”
“One down, eleven to go.”
“Little victories, Ty.”
June got the hang of leading the easier horses in to their stalls well enough, but I kept my eyes on the skies. In the time we’d been working, the rain clouds had blown in, great dark smudges that streaked toward the ground. Thunder rolled in the distance, and flashes of lightning lit up the gloom. Any minute now, the sky would open up and dump rain. We had no choice but to move on to the flightier horses.
June had handled the old ones well enough, but her confident air faded a bit as she called to Jake, the first of the more questionable lot. His ears flickered toward her, but the rest of him didn’t move.
“You have to let him know you’re in charge.” If she didn’t lose her jitters fast, Jake would walk all over her. Hopefully, not literally.
“Jake,” she called again, trying to put more heart into her voice. She inched closer at a broad angle so he could see her coming.
“Storm’s coming on faster than you’re walking, June.”
“Not helping,” she called back.
Finally, Jake cottoned on that he was going to the barn and his grain, and let her get the halter on. “Stay close to his head,” I instructed. “Don’t let him lead you.”
One by one, June called out each horse’s name as she edged into the pasture, her hand out to soothe and pet them. A couple toyed with her a little, but they didn’t fight her much on the change of scenery. Horses could hold their own in a thunderstorm, but most of them seemed to recognize they would be more comfortable in their stalls.
As she brought horse after horse into the barn, I kept watch over Bullet, who pranced circles in the far corner of the pasture. The sly beast knew exactly what June was doing, but made no move to be a part of it.
Finally, she’d narrowed them down to three: Spirit, Opie, and Bullet. The horses I’d made the least progress with before my injury. I could leave them to pasture to ride out the storm, but both choices held their own dangers. On one hand was the risk of injury June faced from the animals. I wouldn’t forgive myself if she got hurt handling green colts at my request. On the other hand, I’d never left a horse out in a storm since I’d taken on my business. Even the orneriest one could get in a bad way from flying debris, broken tree branches, or a bad bout of hail.
I didn’t like calling to let my clients know I’d have to delay their horse’s training, but I’d like calling to let them know their horse had been injured or killed even less.
Spirit must have had enough of the rumbling thunder pressing in on us. He defied his name and went right to June when she called. He pranced a little outside the gate, leaving half a minute where I feared he might bolt, but June never let go of the lead rope.
Rain fell in fat drops now, picking up intensity like a snowball starting downhill to become an avalanche. Even soaked to the bone, June never gave up. My heart pounded in my chest, my hands clenched tight around the metal gate as I watched her creep across the pasture toward the last two horses. They were young and didn’t yet know how to interact well with people. I told myself they weren’t dangerous, but my heart wouldn’t listen.
Just as she made to secure the halter over Opie’s neck, lightning cracked right over us. The horse reared, his forelegs waving high over her head.
For one horrible second, I thought he’d struck her. My whole body seized up as I watched helplessly from the fence. She stumbled backward out of the horse’s way, and fell hard in the grass.
I shot through the gate in a heartbeat, ignoring the pain exploding in my chest.
“June!” I called uselessly while running toward her, each step a tornado rippling across my battered ribs. Opie shuffled away from her, still close enough to be a trample threat if he completely lost his head.
She rolled onto her side and pushed into a sitting position. Soaked through and covered in mud, her glare lit fire. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be out here.”
“Ishouldn’t be out here? I never should have sentyouout here. Are you hurt?”
She stood and swept the worst of the mud off her rear. “Just knocked the wind out of me. I’m fine.”
Rain streaked down her face and into her eyes. I pulled off my Stetson and sat it low on her head. “Go back to the gate. I’ll get the last of these.”
Her fake laugh cut into the air. “Yougo back to the gate. I can handle this.”
“I’m not going to let you risk your neck again.”
“Are you telling me you’ve never fallen down before?”
My past injuries weren’t the point. I’d never had to watch someone I cared about risk her neck over a wild animal for me before—thatwas the point.
