So, the kid was an asshole, didn’t listen to instructions, and abused the horse. Great. This was just—
Did I just mentally cuss?
Did I just break my resolution? After eight months?
On the other end of the line, panic began to take over my client, his anxiety causing him to second-guess every single decision he’d ever made.
Okay, I could worry about my resolutions later.
“Mr. Weatherford, take a breath for me,” I urged, looking out to the field in front of the house and putting my hand on my hip. “How bad were the kid’s injuries?”
“He walked away, but I’m fairly certain he had a concussion.”
“No broken bones or bruising?” I pressed.
“No. He landed on his back in the dirt, had a helmet on and everything. He was only on the ground for a moment or two. By the time I got the horse settled and away from him, he was already starting to sit up.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Okay, we can—"
“I can’t—I can’t lose the horse. I can’t lose the horse lessons…or the ranch. Dammit, am I going to lose the ranch?”
“No,” I said firmly, walking down two of the porch steps, the sunlight hitting me. “You aren’t going to lose the ranch or the lessons. I promise. The parents signed the waiver, they were informed of the risks.” My client brought in extra income with those horse lessons and he had good standing throughout the county. They were essential to his livelihood now.
“They said they have some hot-shot lawyer,” Mr. Weatherford said, fear and anxiety lacing his voice.
I ran my hand through my hair, tossing the length over my shoulders, letting out a soft sigh. “Well, you have a hot-shot lawyer too,” I told him plainly. He was silent for a moment, my words and the truth within them settling on the line. I hoped it was enough to curb his anxiety, at least until I could get in contact with opposing counsel. “Take another breath for me, Mr. Weatherford.”
As I looked down to my feet again, he did as I asked. “Alright, what’s the plan?”
“First, I need their names and information. Second, did you give them my card?”
“No, they didn’t give me chance,” he answered.
Of course, they didn’t.“Alright, so I need you to sit tight. Until they officially serve you papers or their lawyer reaches out to you, I needyouto sittight.”
“Diana—”
“No, Mr. Weatherford,” I said firmly, cutting off his protests. “I can’t do what you hired me to do if you don’t do as I say. Understand?”
He was quiet for a moment. “What do I need to do with the horse?”
“For now, start using your other horse for lessons,” I instructed.
We chatted for a few more minutes before I ended the call, fairly confident the rancher would actually listen to me. Sighing, I checked some notifications on my phone, pulling up the text thread between me and my paralegal, Thomas.
Me: I need you to pull the Weatherford file before you leave today. You can just leave it on my desk.
Thomas: Done. What’s going on?
Me: Kid abused the horse during his riding lesson and the horse bucked him off. No major injuries, but the parents are wanting to go after our client and everything he has.
Thomas: Okay, I can take a look at the waiver.
My lips turned down into a frown, knowing he had a date with his girlfriend tonight. It was their one year anniversary. I’d had it on my calendar for months.
Me: No, you have a big night tonight. I got it.
Thomas: Are you sure?