Page 37 of The Cowboy Who Worked Late

Levi had told Henry last night that they hadn’t had roll call while Angel was gone, and that had surprised Henry too. She had asked Shad or Clay or Flint or Justin—the foreman at Lone Star—to run roll call before. Not often, but they’d done it, so he’d been surprised to find that no one had stepped into the role while she’d been gone.

It also showed him how reliant everyone at Lone Star was on Angel White, and Angel White alone.

Trevor started by reading an email from one of their boarding clients, who claimed that their equine was restless at home after he’d been housed at Lone Star for a couple of weeks. The owner, a man named Lane Rickson, had started to go out to the stable more and more often.

“He said,” Trevor said as he held his phone in front of him. “It took me a couple of weeks of this extra attention and care before Central Park settled down, and I realized it was because of the excellent care and attention you gave to my horse while he was at Lone Star. He now expected that, and he was upset that I’d simply put him in the stable and then let him out into the pasture the next morning.

“He wanted more. He wanted me to brush him down for longer. He wanted me to talk to him. He wanted special treats, and he wanted new shoes. When I provided those things—alongwith more time with him—he settled right back into his calm, gentle self.

“It was a real testament to me about how much you care about the horses that you board at Lone Star. They’re not just another body with four legs, more work, shoes that need to be done, things that need to be brushed, fed, watered, and exercised, but that you really care about them there. And I really appreciate that. I can’t wait to bring Central back, and I tell everyone that if they need somewhere to board their horse, to go to Lone Star.”

Trevor handed his phone to Flint, who stood right in front of him, with his other helpers right behind him.

“That’s the kind of service we provide at Lone Star,” he said. “If you’re not feeling it today, talk to someone you trust, and get feeling it. These horsesareour livelihood; wedocare about them. We want every single one of them to go home feeling like they were spoiled while they were here with us.

“Our full-time residents need extra special care. If you’re walking by one today and you feel like you have something to say, say it to ‘em. I know the horses can’t talk back,” he said. “But they love being talked to, so don’t ever hesitate to tell them things. They’re some of the best listeners I know, and they’re a lot like God in that way. They can hold any burdens for you, so you don’t have to.

“Everything we do at Lone Star is about excellence,” he said. “We provide excellent care for our horses, and we take excellent care of the humans who bring them to us. Let’s not forget that today.”

“Amen, brother!” someone yelled from the crowd. The fire of good hospitality burned in Henry’s soul too.

“All right,” Trevor said, and he twisted to get help getting down. “I’m gonna let Shad give you the assignments for today.” It took a minute for him to get back to solid ground, andeverything seemed stilted and clumsy, the way things were with Trevor. Henry loved him in that moment for his ability to put his disability on display.

Henry needed to be more like that. He tended to bottle everything up, hide everything that he felt was a flaw or that others wouldn’t like, only put forth the best parts of himself.

Shad retook the stand, blue folders in his hand now. Blue meant arrivals. “We have welcome packets today,” he said. “We have a horse coming at nine o’clock, one at ten-thirty, one at eleven, and one at four.”

He surveyed the crowd, a very serious expression on his face. “Our ten-thirty and eleven appointments are really close together.

“I expect those stables to be ready, and I’m assigning a team of three to those horses, so we have everything done on time.”

Henry gaped at him. It took at least an hour to get a horse settled at Lone Star. Sometimes they had to settle the owners too, as horses could be so fickle sometimes. And Shad was saying they needed to be ready for two horses within thirty minutes of one another?

“We want every guest who comes to Lone Star to feel like they’re the only horse here, that we prepared just for them. That’s what our welcome packets are for,” Shad continued. “The nine o’clock crew has four people on it since you only have ninety minutes to prepare. There are notes in here—we’ve had this horse before.

“We know who he is, we know what he likes, and we want his stall prepared appropriately. We’re giving this horse to Henry as team lead and his crew, and the fourth person I need over there with him is Copper.”

Henry nodded, and Copper, who stood far closer to Shad, took the packet. “It’s Gentry Michaels,” Copper called out in his heavy Texan drawl. “And Pure Country.”

Henry’s muscles relaxed. He knew Pure Country; the horse loved him. He could get him off the trailer and settled in his stall in no time. Henry’s crew started to move over to him, the two farriers he oversaw, and then Copper joining them as well. Henry took the packet from him as Shad announced who would take the other horses, and he wasn’t surprised that Ford got the ten-thirty horse. He was one of the three master farriers here, and he could handle any equine.

Levi got the eleven o’clock horse, which was a great honor for Henry’s cabinmate, and he grinned over to him. The four o’clock horse went to Nathan, a good farrier Henry had known for years in the academy.

“All right, guys,” Shad said. “Let’s make Tuesday the best day this week.” He clapped his hands one time, and everyone clapped back once at him. He got off the stool, and roll call ended.

Henry flipped open the folder as his guys gathered around him. He pulled out the picture of the owner, Gentry Michaels. “We’ve had Gentry here before,” he said. “Been here three or four times since I’ve been at Lone Star.”

He handed the picture to the man next to him, a talented farrier intern named Jake, who’d come from Henry’s academy too. “Memorize his name, make sure you know what he looks like. There’s information there about his wife, his family, what he’s doing.”

The next sheet showed a picture of Pure Country, Gentry’s horse. He was black and white like a cow, with a long black tail and mane, a black face, and a white patch across where the saddle went.

“This is Pure Country,” Henry said. “He likes butterscotch candies more than strawberry candy, so let’s make sure we’ve got those in our pockets. He doesn’t need a halter to get off the trailer; we can just back him out with a rope. He doesn’t like togo into the stall right away, so we’ll put him in the exercise ring first. He’s a little keyed up when he comes; usually the exercise will calm him down. We could probably put him in the pasture with Susan and Tea Time,” he said, naming some of their calmest full-time horses. “So, Caleb, I want you to be in charge of the exercise ring and the resulting pasture that he’ll be in.”

“Yes, sir,” Caleb said.

“Copper, you and I are gonna make sure the stable’s ready for him. He always goes in the same one, number twenty-seven. He likes shavings more than straw, so we need to check it. I don’t know who’s in twenty-seven right now, but they might need to be moved. He likes it because it has a wider opening over the door. He’s quite a tall horse, and it gives him more headroom.”

“Yes, sir,” Copper said.

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