Page 15 of The Lies We Told Ourselves

“Salt water?”

“She’s severely dehydrated. To get her hydrated as fast as possible, we give her small amounts of diluted salt water every thirty minutes until she’s not thirsty anymore. Then she can have normal drinking water.”

Reece nodded and headed to the back of the barn where I’d shown her the feeds and supplies were kept. The determination in her walk was new. She wasn’t trying to fold in herself. She’d need some boots and a hat. She probably didn’t have suitable work clothes, either. Getting her to accept those wouldn’t be easy, and there was no way I was going shopping for her. Unfortunately for me, that meant I’d have to enlist some help. They’d know by now, anyway. Even if they hadn’t heard it from the town gossip, Blake would have told Delaney all about Reece within seconds of us leaving her yesterday. I was actually surprised they hadn’t turned up already. My brother and his soon-to-be wife would love everything about this.

Reece came back with the water bucket and then walked into the stable without even waiting to see if it was safe. That was a conversation we’d need to have later. Hank had taken the mare’s lead rope off but left her in the halter just in case. It was loose enough not to rub against the sores on her face, but I wanted it off her as soon as possible.

I stepped forward, ready to jump in if Reece needed me. But she calmly approached the little mare, murmuring soft words to her as she held the bucket close enough that she could drink. The mare backed up a step, eyeing Reece cautiously, and I froze, watching for a twitch of a muscle that could mean Reece was in danger. But she stood still, murmuring to the mare and reassuring her she was going to be all right.

Hank came to my side, watching Reece carefully. His hands were shoved in his jeans pockets, but I knew he was ready to move if necessary.

Hank had been with the ranch for nearly ten years now. He was one of the first hires I’d ever made. I only had two ranch hands at the moment. There wasn’t a huge amount of work to be done. We were down to just the horses now, and renovation works were underway for my new project. Hank and Cliff were helping maintain the acreage until the real work started.

“I didn’t know we were ready to take on guests,” he said quietly.

“We’re not,” I admitted. “But she needed help, and I was in a position to give it.”

Hank hummed thoughtfully, then fell silent as we watched the mare stretch out her neck toward Reece to sniff at the bucket.

This was a crucial point when a new horse arrived. If it wouldn’t drink, it would need fluids intravenously, and it usually meant we’d have a hell of a fight on our hands to get it healthy again.

Reece stood completely still, letting the mare make her own decision, and we all released a collective breath when she took a step forward and finally drank.

Reece smiled gently, watching over the mare as she drank the small amount of water I’d prepared. When she’d finished and Reece came out of the stable, I could see the tears in her eyes.

I reached down and grabbed the hay net filled with leafy alfalfa hay and closed the stable door, hanging the net high enough at the side for the mare to reach without having to stress her weak muscles.

“What now?” Reece asked quietly.

“We wait.” I wanted to caution Reece that not every horse made it, but I could already see that wasn’t an option for her. “We get her hydrated and then see if we can get close enough to assess her condition and the sores.”

Hank clapped me softly on the shoulder. “I’m going to take the trailer down the yard and sanitize it. Holler if you need me.”

“Thanks, Hank.”

Reece moved to the other side of the walkway and slid down to sit on the floor, her eyes never once leaving the open half of the stable door. A soft smile came to her lips as the mare moved to the net and pulled some alfalfa free.

There was a lot to do. I needed to update the vet and get confirmation on when they were coming by. I should probably get hold of Cliff too and get him to ride the trails I still hadn’t gotten around to. Instead, I moved to Reece’s side and sat down on the ground, pulling the hat from my head and running the brim through my fingers just for something to do. Val went to her other side, lying down and putting her head on Reece’s lap.

“I inherited this ranch from my grandfather,” I told her. “My parents had high expectations for me when I was a kid. My dad’s in the property development business, and they expected me to work with him. Take over the business one day. Turn their millions into even more millions. But that wasn’t me. This place. This was where I was always supposed to be, and they hated it.”

Reece turned her head to look at me, and I could see the sorrow in her eyes. I didn’t want it, but I knew if she was ever going to trust me with her story, then I needed to give her mine.

“That must have been hard,” she said quietly.

I shrugged. “It is what it is. I love this place. I always have. It’s in my blood in a way that I can’t describe. I spent as much time as I could here to get out of their house. It was always the horses for me. My grandfather used to raise cattle, but we don’t have any on the ranch anymore.”

“How come?”

I hesitated. I’d never actually told anyone about the next part. The plans I had for the ranch or the fact that they were already underway.

“One day, my grandfather brought a plow-horse back to the ranch. It was in a terrible state. Worked until it couldn’t work anymore. I helped him nurse that horse back to health. I used to sneak out of the house at night so I could sit in the stable and watch over it. Then, when it was healthy again, I used to sneak out to sit with him for different reasons. A lot of stuff went on in my parents’ house that…we don’t talk about.”

Reece reached out and took hold of my hand, which I’d balled into a tight fist. She gently opened my fingers and then threaded her fingers between them, holding my hand.

“And now, you want to help as many horses as you can,” she said.

“Yes. But it’s more than that. That old horse saved me. He gave me purpose, a reason to assess the bad stuff in my life and choose whether I was going to let it keep holding me prisoner. I want to help other people find that.”

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