Page 6 of Lucky in Love

“I got a call this afternoon from a woman in trouble. She’s in an abusive relationship and she needs to leave her boyfriend, but she has three horses and she can’t take them with her.” She clears her throat. “He’s been abusive to the horses too, so they’re going to need some vet care and rehab.” I flex my fingers, trying to clear the sudden burst of rage toward a man who beats on women and horses. “Do you have room to board them for a few days until I can find a place for them?”

“How are you going to get them here?”

“I hadn’t thought of that. My trailer only holds one horse.”

“Are you at your office?” I ask, pulling off my muck boots and shoving my feet into cowboy boots.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

???

She’s standing outside the clinic, her arms wrapped around her when I pull up and I feel a flush of heat thinking about her being in my truck. It’s completely inappropriate considering the circumstances and probably just more proof that I have no business being around anyone. Watching hervault her tiny frame into my truck is quite entertaining, but I keep my thoughts to myself.

“Hi. Thank you for coming to help.”

“Is the wife and horse abuser going to be there? If I need to fight somebody, I want to be prepared.”

She looks sideways at me, her mouth hanging open. “No. He’s out of town.”

I nod and put the truck in gear.

???

Paige talks to the woman, while I deal with the horses. It’s clear that they’ve been mistreated, but their physical wounds aren’t severe. They’ll heal. The emotional trauma, on the other hand, will take a long time to get past. Some horses never learn to trust again and avoid human interaction for the rest of their lives.

The horses already have lead ropes on them, but they panic when I try to pull them toward the trailer. The lady comes closer and the bruises on her face trigger a whole new wave of fury. She goes to each horse and strokes their face, whispers in their ear. Then, tears streaming down her face, she walks them one by one into the trailer.

“You promise you’ll take care of them?” She looks right at me when she says it and the despair in her eyes nearly breaks me.

“I will.” I pull a Ross Ranch card out of my pocket and hand it to her. “This is where you can find me.”

Paige’s eyes widen. I get in the truck and take a few deep breaths, trying to get myself together. Paige hugs the woman and climbs back into the truck.

We’re several miles down the road before she speaks. “You promised heryou’dtake care of them?”

I nod.

“They need rehab.”

“I do rehab.”

“You do?” I can feel her looking at me, but I keep my eyes on the road. Explaining my experience with rehabbing horses feels a lot like telling my life story, and I’m not ready for that. So I just nod my head.

“I can’t imagine what that lady is going through. I sure hope she’s able to get away from her boyfriend for good. It’s heartbreaking that she has to leave these guys,” she says, gesturing over her shoulder to the trailer. “But I’m glad she’s strong enough to get out.”

“A lot of women don’t leave abusive relationships because they can’t take their pets with them to shelters,” I blurt without thinking.

“Really?” she says. “I never knew that.”

God, I want so much to have a conversation with her. I want to make small talk, chit-chat and get to know her. But I forgot how. It’s been too long.

“I’ll examine them at the ranch if that’s ok. Then will you drive me back into town?”

I nod.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” she says lightly.

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