Lois Greiman - [Hope Springs 02] (5 page)

T
he trailer door moaned like a ghost as Casie pulled it open. Her expression was taut with worry, pale with uncertainty. Ty couldn’t bear to look at her. She didn’t have the funds necessary to pay for major surgery. He knew that just like he knew he didn’t have a pot to pee in. But Angel . . . She shifted her dark eyes toward him. They were wide with the kind of fear he understood all too well. He put a hand on her neck and urged her forward. Pain, he knew, was driving daggers through her belly, but she did as she was asked and took a staggering step toward the trailer.

“Call the hospital,” Sophie said.

Ty glanced at her, barely understanding her words.

“Emily!” the girl snapped. Em jerked toward her. “Call Dakota Equine. Tell them we’re bringing in an emergency.”

“I don’t . . .” Em shook her head, looking dazed and worried. Maybe she was thinking of her unborn baby. Maybe she was wondering how she was going to pay
her own
hospital bills. God knew Casie would help her if she could, but how was she going to do that when she was sinking money into vet bills? Em glanced at him, eyes as worried as Angel’s. “I don’t know the phone number. Maybe I should—” she began, but Sophie stopped her.

“Well, find it. Tell them we have a colicky horse. Older. Early twenties, maybe. Mixed breed. Nine hundred pounds. Generally good health. We’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”

“How are you going to get all the way to Rapid City in forty-five—”

“Just call them,” she barked and turned her attention to the mare. “All right.” She calmed her voice, pursed her lips. Casie came around the back of the trailer, expression strained.

“We ready?”

Ty clenched his fists. He was trying like hell to be strong, but he
wasn’t
strong. Never had been. “What if she goes down in the trailer?”

“She’s not going to,” Sophie said.

“What if she
does?
” He was sick to death of Sophie Jaegar with her glowing skin and stinking superiority.

“She’s not going down,” she repeated, “because we’re going to hold her up.”

“What? No, you’re not,” Casie said, but Sophie had her back up.

“Angel’s not going to . . .” She paused and took a deep breath. “She’s not going to die.”

“You can’t ride in the trailer!” Casie said. “It’s not safe. It’s not even sane.”

“Well, this whole thing is crazy, isn’t it? Ty said himself the horse isn’t worth the cost of a bullet.” Her tone was harsh, her eyes bright with emotion. She was probably mad about the waste of money, too. Blue, the colt she adored, needed supplements. Hell, every animal on the property needed something. “We’re wasting time. Let’s get on the road.”

“All right,” Casie said, “but you’re not riding back there.”

“Then she’s as good as dead.” The girl’s tone was steady and absolute.

Ty felt the words in his gut. He knew it was stupid. The old mare should probably just be put down. In the long run it might be kinder, but . . . He shifted his eyes to Angel’s. They were wide with fear, dark with a hundred memories of time they had shared together, of times he had wept when no one else could see. Of times he had whispered his deepest fears, his most closely guarded secrets. He felt his throat close up, felt his hands shake.

For a moment he could feel Casie’s gaze on him, hot as a heat lamp.

“Load her up,” Casie said, but he couldn’t bear to look at her. To thank her. Neither could he argue, though he was sure he should. His mother would be screaming mad if she knew they were throwing away good money on this worthless nag.

He tugged the mare toward the vehicle.

Angel stumbled as she heaved herself into the trailer, groaned as she hoisted up her hindquarters. But she didn’t refuse. She never refused. Casie had once said the old girl would walk through fire for him. He swallowed, trapped in Angel’s eyes, as Sophie stepped up beside the mare, hand braced on her neck.

“Shut the door,” she ordered. Her tone was abrasive, her expression taut. But she didn’t sound angry. Maybe she was scared, too. Maybe this was what she was like when she was afraid . . . more irritating than ever. God help them all.

“Listen—” Casie said, but Sophie spoke first.

“We’ll be all right.” Her voice had dropped a few decibels. “We will.”

Casie scowled at her, then shifted her gaze to Ty. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. It was hard as hell to speak past the lump in his throat. His mother was right. He was weak. Weak and sentimental. He swallowed the lump.

“Drive fast,” Sophie ordered.

“If you have trouble, stick your hand between the slats on the left side,” Casie said. Her voice was tight with worry. “I’ll pull over as soon as I can.”

“It’s like living in the dark ages,” Sophie said. “If you had a cell phone I could—”

“Complain about my Neanderthal ways later,” Casie said. “You ready?”

They both nodded. She closed the door. It swung on rusty hinges, groaning as if in pain. Inside, it seemed unreasonably dark. Puke rattled loudly when Casie turned the key. The first few crunching feet of gravel were as bumpy as a roller coaster. It was a little smoother on the road. Angel flipped her tail and cranked up her left hind leg. He put a hand on her neck. It was wet and cold with sweat. Forty-five minutes was an eternity, and he had no idea how they could make it that fast.

Sophie moved around Angel’s tail and stepped up next to him.

“I know you think I’m a bitch,” she said.

Her words, pitched high to be heard over the sound of the wheels, surprised him. For a moment he tried to come up with a disclaimer, but seriously, she
was
a bitch. And although he didn’t exactly consider himself a social genius, he didn’t think now was exactly the right time to voice that opinion. He remained cautiously mute.

“But I don’t care what you think. We’re going to have to work together on this.”

He managed a nod. It was stupid hard to think when she was standing right next to him. He scowled, trying nevertheless.

“I don’t like it any better than you do, you know.”

He nodded again, not sure if it was called for.

“Whatever,” she said then. “Let’s push her up against the side of the trailer. Then we can both support her on this side. Okay?”

He blinked, tried to marshal his senses despite her proximity and managed to shake his head. “No.”

“What?” She sounded dismissive and already angry. “Listen, if she goes down, we’ll never be able to—”

“She’s my horse.”

She snorted. “Like I’d even
want
her.”

He felt his molars grind. “So I’ll be the one taking care of her.”

“Well, that would be just awesome if you could, wouldn’t it? But since you can’t, I’m going to help out.”

“That’s fine by me. Just so long as you do the helping out from over there,” he said and jerked his chin toward the back of the rumbling trailer.

“Oh sure,” she said and hissed a laugh. “Because you’re the
man?
”

Her words seemed to stop his heart for a moment. Was it possible that she thought of him like that? he wondered, but he found his footing in a moment. “Because if something happens to you, your father’ll kill me dead.”

“Are you kidding?” She snorted again. “My dad couldn’t care less if I—” She stopped herself.

He scowled at her, wondering. What the hell was she thinking? Her father had probably never even raised his
voice
to her. Then again, maybe there were different forms of hate. Forms he didn’t understand. The idea made his gut cramp up.

“Listen,” she said, breaking his line of thought. “Hercules wouldn’t be able to hold this horse up alone. So we’ll both stay on this side. If she starts to go down we’ll keep her tight between us and the wall.”

“Sounds like an okay plan,” he said and shifted his eyes to her for a second. She glowed in the dark. Swear to God she did. “If we want to get dead fast.”

She scowled at him. “You have a better idea?”

Angel lifted a sharp forefoot and pawed with rapid-fire panic, nearly striking Sophie’s leg.

Ty drew her lead up tight, lifting her head, doing his best to keep her from collapsing. “Yeah,” he said, heart in his throat. “If she goes down, we’ll just keep her down. Make sure she doesn’t roll. Make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.”

“That’s asinine.”

“It’ll be easier than trying to keep her
up
.”

“Then how are we going to get her out of the trailer once we—” she began, but in that second, Angel’s knees buckled.

“Hold her head up!” Sophie rasped.

Angel stumbled, trying to right herself. Her left forefoot swung erratically sideways, striking Sophie’s leg. The girl staggered to her knees an instant before Angel collapsed atop her.

Panic roared through Ty. He yanked at the lead, trying to pull Angel up. “Sophie! Sophie!” he yelled, but the girl was already dragging her legs out from under the mare, already crawling forward and stretching out on top of the gray’s outstretched head. It took him a while to realize she was actually taking his advice. Shoving that weird knowledge aside, he dove down beside her, covering Angel’s neck with his body.

“You all right?” His voice shook, not to mention his hands.

“Yeah.”

Beneath him, Angel struggled to rise. Ty threw himself forward, adding his weight to the girl’s atop the mare’s head. She lay back down with a grunt. “Thatta girl,” he rasped. “Just stay put, now. It’s going to be okay,” he crooned, but he knew he was lying.

 

Inside the cab, Casie wheeled around the final turn and came to a jolting halt in front of Dakota Equine Veterinary Hospital. The driver’s door resisted for a moment, but she shoved it open and held her breath as she raced toward the back of the trailer.

“Is this the colic?” A voice from the concrete building stopped her in her tracks. She turned to see a young woman in jeans and a sweatshirt standing in the doorway.

“What?”

“Is this—”

“Oh yes. This is Angel.”

“You can bring her right in,” she said and disappeared back inside.

Casie yanked herself from her stupor and rushed toward the trailer door. It creaked open. She stared inside, then jerked her gaze lower; both kids were stretched across the mare’s head.

“Holy—”

“We there?” Sophie asked.

“Are you all right?”

“Can we let her up or not?” Sophie snapped. Apparently, the ride hadn’t softened her disposition.

“Yes. Be careful, though. If—” she began, but Tyler was already rising to his feet. Sophie was a little slower. Reaching out, he grabbed her by the shoulder of her shirt and dragged her with him.

Casie was sure the old mare was dead, but in a moment she raised her head.

“Come on,” Ty crooned. Angel blinked, shoved herself onto her belly, then heaved herself to her feet. Sophie shifted out of the way, limping a little.

Casie snapped her gaze to the girl. “What happened?”

“Hurry up,” Sophie said. “Let’s get her inside.”

“What—” Casie began again, but Ty interrupted her.

“Angel fell,” Ty said. “Sophie was underneath.”

Casie felt herself blanch. She’d be lucky to survive a violence lawsuit. Add neglect to that and she might never again see the light of day, much less keep the ranch.

“You okay?” Her voice sounded a little rusty.

Sophie didn’t even glance in her direction. “They ready for her in there or what?”

Casie skimmed the girl’s legs. There were no protruding bones or spewing blood. Was it a bad sign that that was the best she could hope for? “They said to take her straight in.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

“I just want to make sure—”

“Let’s get going,” Sophie said, but she winced as she stepped down from the trailer.

Casie exchanged a glance with Ty. His expression was solemn, his brows low under his frayed, ever-present cap.

“So this is Angel?” The girl in the sweatshirt was back, holding open an oversized door and watching the procession as they eased toward her.

“Emily must have gotten ahold of you,” Casie said.

The girl nodded and stepped back, directing them across the bare concrete floor to an exam room where a metal frame of heavy steel tubing was anchored into the floor. “How’s she doing?” she asked.

“She’s hurting,” Ty said.

“I bet you are,” she said, addressing the mare. “But hang in there, old girl. Lead her into the stocks, will you?”

Ty tugged Angel into the metal frame as the girl continued to croon.

“But you’re a tough old bird, aren’t you, sweetheart.” She approached slowly and placed her hand on the mare’s muzzle. Lifting the gray’s upper lip, she glanced at her gums. Even to Casie’s uncertain eye, they looked pale. The girl pinched the skin on the mare’s leathery neck, testing for dehydration. “You Ty?” she asked, glancing at the boy.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you the one who takes care of her?” It didn’t take a genius to recognize the worry in Ty’s eyes, the tender caring in his hands.

“I try to,” he said.

She gave him a solemn glance. “Do you know how long it’s been since she drank?”

“I gave her a five-gallon bucket last night,” he said. “It was half gone this morning.”

The girl nodded. Her blond hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her face was unlined. She glanced into Angel’s eyes again. “Such a nice girl, aren’t you, sweetheart. Just a peach. So polite, even with a tummyache.

“Any recent change in her diet?” she asked, not glancing toward the humans.

“No, ma’am. Lots of pasture, a little hay and crimped oats at night. But . . .” He winced. “I worked her pretty hard yesterday.”

“Worked her how?”