Page 116 of Redeeming Harmony

“Of course, heard some bad shit too. Like how you murder horses.” The man stared unblinkingly at Nathan.

Nathan’s face looked like curdled milk, and not caring how it looked, Harper immediately took his hand in support. He squeezed it tight, trapping the blood in her fingers, but she ignored the discomfort.

Royce bellowed laughter and clapped Nathan on the back hard enough to make Nathan lurch forward. “I’m just messin’ with you, Doc. I know you didn’t kill King. Shit, King was twenty when Tammy got him from us, and he wasn’t exactly in tip-top shape back then. I’m surprised the old boy even made it to thirty. I had beers with Solomon Whitaker last night, and he was real strong in his opinion that you were putting old King out of his misery.”

Nathan’s grip on her hand relaxed as a truck pulling a horse trailer parked in the parking lot. Wyatt climbed out and joined them, shaking Royce’s hand. “How are you, Royce?”

“Can’t complain, ‘cause no one would listen even if I did,” Royce said before laughing at his own joke. “How’s Buttercup doing?”

“She’s good. Settled in well,” Wyatt said. “She’s a sweet horse.”

Royce laughed. “Ayuh, she is. Nice change from what we usually send you, huh? Poor old girl. Her life was a real shitshow before she landed with us. Hopefully, she can learn to trust us fucking humans again.” He glanced at Harper. “Pardon my French, Harper.”

She grinned. “No problem. It’s good to see you again, Royce.”

He shook her hand. “You too. Haven’t seen you since you were a teen. You still riding horses?”

“Not really,” she said.

“I supposed it’s hard to ride horses in the big city.” He scanned her up and down, and Harper steeled herself for the inevitable, ‘it’s a real shame about your failure’ conversation. To her surprise, Royce just said, “Well, now that you’re home if you want to start riding again, we offer ‘back on the horse’ riding lessons for people who haven’t ridden in a while.”

She smiled. “That’s pretty brilliant marketing.”

“Ain’t it? I can’t take the credit for it, though. One of our volunteers thought of it. Anyway, you’re not here to listen to me yap on and on. Follow me. I got your horse in his own paddock out behind the barn.”

Harper, Nathan, and Wyatt followed him to the smaller of the two barns. Royce closed the gate behind them, and they walked around the barn to where a section of pasture was cordoned off with wooden fencing into four 40’x30’ paddocks. A large, solid black draft horse was in the paddock closest to them. He munched contently on some hay as a woman in her early fifties with her silver hair in a braid brushed his thick black mane.

“Morning,” she said as she ran a brush over the horse’s mane. She glanced over at Harper. “Harper! I haven’t seen you since you were a teen. How are you?”

“I’m good, Mrs. Bergen.”

“Sweetheart, you know you can call me Rhonda.” She tossed the brush into an empty bucket and gave the horse a gentle pat before joining them, leaning over the side of the paddock fence.

“Roobird, this is Doc Henshaw. Doc, this is my wife, Rhonda,” Royce said.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Rhonda shook his hand before smiling at Wyatt. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hi, Rhonda.” Wyatt swept off his cowboy hat and nodded to Rhonda.

“Well, this is your boy.” Royce climbed over the paddock with the ease of a man twenty years his junior. The horse immediately ambled over and nosed at Royce’s shirt pocket for treats. Royce reached into his pocket and pulled out half a carrot to give to the horse.

Nathan and Harper leaned against the paddock. Harper slid her fingers under the horse’s thick forelock and rubbed his forehead as Nathan stroked his heavily muscled neck.

“As I said on the phone, we picked up Viking at the meat market about six months ago. He’s a Percheron, ten years old. Real strong.” Royce patted the horse’s side. “We had our horse trainer, Giselle, evaluate him. He’s broke to ride and pull and doesn’t spook easily. He’ll do well with the crowds at the parade and should have no problem pulling the Santa sleigh.”

“He sounds perfect,” Nathan said.

The horse snuffled at Harper’s hair before nosing at her shirt, looking for more carrot. Royce handed her another half a carrot, and she placed it in the palm of her hand and held it out. Viking took it from her, crunching it down, then turned to Nathan and nuzzled at his shirt.

Nathan laughed and rubbed the horse’s neck again before staring at Harper. “Well, what do you think?”

She smiled up at him. “I think Tammy’s going to love him.”

* * *

“You haveto do the sweet talking. Tammy won’t even let me in the house,” Nathan said.

“She’ll let you in the house,” Harper said. “Especially if you say you want to apologize. Wyatt, tell him.”

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