Healing The Cowboy's Heart. Ruth Logan Herne

      “Yes. So did Brian and Jamie and Alex.”

      Her three best friends on the planet, and they all liked to talk, especially when it came to anything equine-related. “Professionals don’t always agree on things,” he reminded her. “And she seems to realize this is a dicey business for all of these horses, but for Ginger in particular.”

      “Well, I like her. She’s not afraid to speak her mind.”

      J.J. was right about that, but Isaiah wasn’t stupid. Going against Braden would have repercussions that could ripple across the tightly knit horse community and make things difficult for the new veterinarian. Braden had friends on ranches and farms, and a few in high places, and he wouldn’t be afraid to use them.

      He was also close with Isaiah’s parents. He’d grown up next door to Isaiah’s mother. Their families did everything together. On top of that, he knew everything about Ginger. Before too long Isaiah’s parents would realize he was helping an old foe. And there would be reckoning.

      His reckoning. And theirs.

      He owed the horse. From the moment he realized who was lying in that field, he understood his need to face the guilt of the past.

      A text from the veterinarian buzzed in. He opened it as he went back to the house to get Liam to school. How’s she doing?

      Holding her own, he texted back. Still eating and drinking. All functions appear to be working.

      Good. ETA eleven.

      I’ll monitor until then.

      A thumbs-up emoji came back to him. He put away the phone and smiled.

      He stopped smiling when he spotted Liam’s face smooshed against the front window, as if dreading the day.

      Should he be forced to go to summer school? Was third-grade reading readiness that important? What if he was just a late bloomer?

       How many battlefronts can you maintain at once?

      Isaiah heard his grandfather’s voice in the mental question.

      Adam “Gray Cloud” Woods knew people even better than he knew horses, and no one knew horses better than him. He died too young—Isaiah could use a dose of that aged wisdom right about now.

      “Do I have to go, Uncle Isaiah?”

      The fact that Liam didn’t cry, whine or carry on should have made the decision to say yes easier.

      The opposite was true because a healthy, happy boy might have raised a ruckus about being shipped off to the three-week program geared to help students who were struggling in school. His quiet resignation showed how unhappy he was.

      Would he mess up Liam’s future by keeping him home? Keeping him here? Was he tempted to baby the boy because he’d been orphaned over two years before and still seemed to be floundering?

      Yes. Which meant he should send him. “Not much longer, pal. Then you’ll have almost a month of summer vacation left.”

      Liam said nothing.

      Chin down, he got up from his seat at the broad kitchen island and picked up his backpack.

      “Do you have your snack?”

      A quiet nod. Then the boy walked slowly to the car.

      Silent sadness.

      The very worst kind, Isaiah realized as he climbed into the driver’s seat. The kind that wore a person down like water on rock. It could either smooth out rough edges or turn the rock into sand. Which was it doing to his brother’s precious son? He longed for the former, but something inside of Isaiah sensed that the boy’s hopes and dreams were being withered away, and he wasn’t at all sure what to do about it.

       Chapter Three

      “So, you’ve managed to rile up the horse community, insult the local veterinary surgeon and tackle an impossible task in less than forty-eight hours.” Melonie Fitzgerald Middleton raised a coffee mug in mock salute to Char when the three sisters gathered in the Pine Ridge Ranch kitchen early that morning. “Well done. Even I didn’t ruffle that many Idaho feathers my first forty-eight hours in town. It might be a Fitzgerald record.”

      Charlotte poured a mug of coffee and frowned. “I blame Lizzie. She read Ty Carrington’s text about the horses and called me instantly. Totally her fault. I could have stayed in the stable apartment and been clueless. And blameless.”

      “Feel free to thank me, dearest, because you did the right thing.” Lizzie looped an arm around Char’s shoulders and hugged her. “While Braden Hirsch has been the go-to man for decades, he’s not up on the newest things in horse care, and we need someone well-schooled in current findings. Uncle Sean put a lot of money and love into our equine barns, and I want solid medicine on my side. Which means I’m hoping you’ll stay, little sister.”

      Lizzie had taken over management of their late uncle’s fledgling horse-breeding business, an amazing enterprise modeled after the choicest Irish horse farms. While the girls’ father had squandered his wealth and position in Kentucky, Uncle Sean had come north to make his own way in the world. And he’d done well. Char had moved into the apartment above the horse stables when she arrived. Lizzie had lived there before she married Heath Caufield, her old love and the farm manager. Then Mel had occupied the two-room living space until she fell head over heels in love with Jace Middleton and his two baby nieces. Now it was Char’s place to call home while she tested the Western Idaho waters.

      “Heath and I are thrilled to have you on board, Char. This could be the perfect opportunity for you. God’s opened a big door, ready for you to shine.”

      “Or some horrible person neglected a crowd of lovely animals and I was in the right place at the right time,” Char mused. She sent Lizzie a wry look. “Science refuses to bear out your lofty celestial ideas, sis. But I respect your right to have them.”

      “Didn’t DNA testing recently indicate that all men are related to one man? One single man from way back when?” asked Melonie. “That’s gotta count for something, Char, when science proves the book of Genesis to be correct.”

      “Darlings, I love you.” Melonie and Lizzie had both taken their coffees to the angled breakfast bar separating the wide kitchen from the equally wide dining room. “But it’s too early to be throwing down this kind of talk—although you’re both praying women—so I’d appreciate it if you prayed for these horses. It’s a sad and sorry bunch they are, and I’d like to meet the person who let them get into this kind of shape.”

      “It’s heartbreaking, for sure. And you said one of them is in foal?”

      “An old mare with local history and a sad face. But she perked right up when she heard Isaiah Woods talking.” Char sipped her coffee as she double-checked her leather bag. “Like one of those old-time reunion stories that make great movies.”

      “I love those movies.” Melonie put a hand to her heart.

      “Me, too,” added Lizzie. “But I think talk time is over,” she said as Corrie brought Ava and Annie their way. “Zeke never sleeps long once Mel brings the girls over for Corrie to watch.”

      “I’m ducking out quickly, then,” said Char. “I’ll play with them when I get home tonight, but if I hang around, I’ll never want to leave, and duty calls.”

      “Go in peace.” Lizzie paused and gave Char a big hug. “I love you. I’m so glad you’re here.”

      “Me, too.” Melonie reached up for a hug as Char went by. “See you tonight. And I’ll be praying, Char. For you and the horses.”

      “I’ll take all the help I can get.” Char began her rounds up near McCall to check out the horse Young Eagle took home.