Page 36 of Bravo

I stop the side-by-side just in front of some downed fencing. It’s fresh, that much I know since I rode through all of our pastures before the storm hit. Grabbing the emergency flashlight we keep inside all ranch UTVs, I step out into the rain and, using the flashlight and the headlights from the vehicle, study the fence.

Blood and hair are stuck to the wire. Horses must have taken the fence down out of fear. Dread coils in my stomach as the need to find both Sammy and the injured horse grows stronger.

Muddy hoofprints continue into the pasture. Rushing back toward the vehicle, I retrieve a pair of fence clippers so I can take down the rest of the fence and get the vehicle through when the thing dies.

Rain hammers down on me.

“No. This cannot be happening.” I get in and try to fire it back up, but the engine won’t turn over. It’s completely dead, leaving me stranded. “You have got to be kidding me.” I pocket the pliers and the flashlight then head out on foot.

I should go back for help. For another UTV. But if I do that, I’m wasting time getting to Sammy. She couldn’t have gotten much farther than me, so instead of turning back, I press on. My cheeks sting, and I can’t feel my toes, but I keep pushing forward.

And then the beam of my flashlight hits a loafing shed, and I see Sammy inside, crouched in front of a downed animal, her hands moving swiftly in and out of the medical bag beside her. Two other horses are inside as well, both huddled in the corner, trying to get as far away from the storm as possible.

Shifting my direction toward them, I slow down just enough that I don’t frighten the already terrified animal.Rev.His eyes are wide, his nostrils flared. He tries to get up, so I quickly kneel down at his head, pressing both gloved hands down onto his wet neck.

As my beam of light rests on the injuries, she removes the small pen light she’d been holding in her mouth and sets it to the ground before returning to her work. “I’ve got you, boy,” she tells him. “I’m not interested in your lecture right now, Mr. Hunt. Feel free to hit me with it later. Right now, I’m busy.”

Mr. Hunt.I swallow down the furious words I want to throw her way, just grateful that she’s okay. Refocusing my attention from anger—for now—I scan Rev’s body. There are no burns on his body—thank God—but his leg is covered in lacerationsthat Sammy has already cleaned with iodine. The brownish-red liquid stains his white hair, and as she works to bandage the ones she can, I note the way her hands are steady.

The way she moves without thinking.

Was she a veterinarian before she came here?

As she works, I remain silent, trying not to let myself be too concerned with the storm outside as it continues to gather steam. The sleet is coming down so hard I can’t see past the edge of the overhang above us.

Fixing Rev’s injuries is only part of the problem now.

Getting out of here is going to bring a whole other wave of problems. I might be able to get Sammy back to the side-by-side and try to get it going, but doing so could lead to hypothermia for both of us should we get lost in the storm. I know this ranch like the back of my hand, but when you can’t see twelve inches in front of you, it’s easy to get turned around.

And if we leave, get turned around, and end up farther away from the main house, my brothers won’t be able to find us.

Staying here as the temperatures continue to drop presents the exact same problem, though it keeps us in one spot long enough to either be found or wait the storm out until it dies down enough that we can safely make the journey back to the side-by-side.

So, what do we do?

“Okay, that’s the best I can do right now,” Sammy says as she stands. I release Rev’s neck and the horse thrashes to his feet. Keeping the injured back leg off the ground, he moves away from us the best he can.

“Now do I get to lecture you?” I snap.

She turns toward me, fight in her eyes. “He was hurt. I helped him.”

“At the risk of your life and mine.”

“You didn’t have to come after me!” she yells.

“I don’t make it a habit of letting my people wander off in a freezing rainstorm alone.”

“So you’d rather your horse be in pain? Die? His injury might not have been life-threatening, but for all I knew it could have been,” she snaps.

“Oh, you knew he was injured then?”

“Yes. There was blood outside of his paddock. I grabbed the med bag and went after him because he needed me. He was hurt, scared, and bleeding.” There’s something in the frantic tone of her voice. Buried pain, a memory she’s trying to suppress, maybe. Whatever it is, it shuts me up.

“You shouldn’t have run off alone. It was foolish.”

“PJ followed after me.”

“He went back to the barn.”

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