“That could have been a whole lot worse. I never should have let you try to lead these young ones.” I held out my hand for the halter.
She spun on her heel and called to Opie.
My blood boiled, overtaking the fear that had filled me just moments before. “Impossible woman. Why won’t you listen?”
She glanced at me over her shoulder. “Because you look almost as bad as you did the day you were first kicked. Go back to the gate.”
My ribs ached pure misery, but I never should have asked this much of her. I knew what to watch for when working with my horses, but June had no idea what they might do or the signs they were about to do it. With thunder breaking all around us and lightning flashing across the sky, the horses were unpredictable at best. Dangerous at worst.
“We’ll figure something else out.” I knew already it was this, or leave the horses in nature’s hands.
June called to Opie again, and the horse took a few solemn steps closer. He seemed ashamed of himself for his bad behavior, and after a few tries, let June halter him. I walked with them back to the gate and led them through, numb now to the tumult raging across my ribs.
She put Opie in his stall, but when she tried to get back in the pasture, I blocked her way. Standing toe to toe with me in the pounding rain, she glared up into my face. She quirked one little eyebrow beneath my Stetson as if challenging me to defy her, and my heartbeat quickened even as the moment seemed to slow.
Now is not the time, you fool.
“I’ll get Bullet.” I held out my hand for the halter.
“Ty, you can’t do this. You’ve gone pale from running out there to check on me.”
“Try to imagine how I’d look if he’d kicked you.” I couldn’t think about anything else, my mind filled with heartbreaking possibilities. That sickening moment when I thought Opie had struck her had nearly sent me to my knees.
“It’s going to be fine.”
“I know,” I said, holding out my hand. “Because I’m going to get him.”
“Ty—”
I took her by the shoulders, my hands gentle but firm. “June, you can challenge me on everything else you want, I promise. But this is the horse that tried to kick a hole through my ribcage.”
She glanced down at my chest as though she could see through my shirt to the black and purple bruise that blossomed there, and a touch of color washed over her cheeks.
I let go of her before I could do something stupid in an already charged situation. “I won’t let that happen to you.”
As if on cue, tiny ice pellets mixed with the heavy rain. She only had on a wet T-shirt and jeans, and I at least wore long sleeves.
“That decides it.” I had to raise my voice over the noise of the hail striking through the yard and pinging off the barn roof.
She brushed her hands down her arms to try to protect them from the onslaught.
“Okay. You win.” She pulled off my hat and leaned up on tip-toes to set it on my head. “You need this more than I do.”
Placing the rope halter in my hand, she wrapped her fingers around mine, her warmth drowning out the chill around us. “Be careful.”
I squeezed her fingers back, but had no time for more reassurances. “Take cover.”
She nodded and darted into the barn. I whistled for Bullet as I crossed the pasture’s expanse, hoping like hell the horse could hear me over the noise of hail and rain. Hailstones stung the bare skin on my neck and hands, urging me to hurry up and get myself and this fool horse under shelter.
“Bullet!”
I took slow and measured steps toward him. I’d never been afraid of a horse and wasn’t about to start with this one, but I wouldn’t have the same control I usually had with him. If he reared or tried to bolt, I wouldn’t be able to do much more than watch him go.
Whether the horse could hear me or not, I spoke to him as I drew closer. Bullet took a few steps toward me before he darted back to where he’d started. My chest ached, every inch of my exposed skin stung from the barrage of hail pellets, and I wanted nothing more than the rest everyone had been demanding I take, but I couldn’t leave the pasture without this horse.
When I finally reached Bullet, I slid a hand along his neck, trying to soothe some of the fright out of him. I slipped the rope halter over his muzzle, slow enough not to startle him, but steady enough to show him I would get my way in the end. As I tied the halter on, he jerked his head away, wrenching my hands along with him. I held tight on instinct, the muscles in my chest screaming out as my arms strained, but I kept my cool and finally secured the halter.
I talked low to him the whole brisk walk to the pasture gate, thanking him for not putting up much of a fight. I had to hold on tight to the lead rope just once, when lightning flashed directly ahead of us. Bullet shied but didn’t bolt, thank God. June let us through the gate, and we all sought shelter in the barn. The horse rushed to his feed bucket, and I secured the stall behind him.
