Take Me Home (2 page)

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Authors: Nancy Herkness

BOOK: Take Me Home
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“That’s an advantage I hadn’t considered,” he admitted, his attention caught by the undercurrent of laughter in her tone.

“You two aren’t taking this seriously,” Sharon said. “Everyone needs someone to tell their troubles to, and horses have broad backs to help carry your burdens.”

“I know, just whisper your worries into your horse’s ear and they’ll magically disappear,” Claire said, throwing a smiling glance in Sharon’s direction. “Is there a horse who knows all your secrets, Sharon?”

“I have a whole stable full of whisper horses,” Sharon said with a grin as she unlatched the stall door. “Let’s see what you think of Willow.”

“Now?” A shadow of discomfort crossed Claire’s face as her gaze cut toward him and back. “Isn’t it supposed to be a private thing, just me and the horse?”

So the self-assured Claire Parker didn’t want to meet her potential whisper horse in front of a stranger. Maybe she wasn’t quite the skeptic she pretended to be.

Or maybe she was desperate for someone to talk to
.

He didn’t want to get tangled up with that kind of neediness again. “I’ll look in on your pregnant mare and then come back to discuss Willow’s diagnosis.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Sharon said.

Claire’s brown eyes were warm with appreciation, and he was startled by the little flicker of heat they kindled in his gut.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m not sure what happens when one finds the right horse. It might not be pretty.”

“There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth,” he quoted.

With a chuckle, she bared her teeth and clicked them together a couple of times before slipping into the stall.

He was left to think about how the shape and color of her lips remained crystal clear in his memory.

Claire relinquished the veterinarian’s company with a strange reluctance. His smile came slowly but held the same warmth as the afternoon sunshine. She found his solidity comforting; it would take a disaster of epic proportions to throw Dr. Tim off balance. However, his calm rationality seemed incompatible with whatever mystical connection she was supposed to make with Sharon’s abused racehorse, so she was grateful for his tact in withdrawing.

As she stepped into the dimly lit stall, she laid her hand on the horse’s flank to let the mare know she had company. Willow’s brown coat was rough and prickly, her tail a mere stub. As she slipped her hand forward, Claire felt the sharp jut of the horse’s hip bone. “She’s awfully thin.”

“Her owner neglected her after she pulled up lame in a race. Once we get her healthy, she’ll be a beauty.”

“I’ll have to take your word about the beauty. Right now, she looks terrible, poor thing.” As Claire gently smoothed the horse’s brittle coat, pity and rage twisted together in her chest. “How could someone treat a living creature this way?”

“Yeah, I’d like to lock the bastard in a stall without any food and see how he liked that kind of treatment for himself.”

Claire ran her fingers along Willow’s neck. The mare stood with her head hanging down as though it was too heavy to lift. Claire knew that feeling; she’d felt that way after her divorce. “I think maybe Willow needs a whisper human. She doesn’t look capable of taking on any more worries than her own.”

It’s not that Claire wasn’t willing to discuss her problems, even with a horse, but she had never had much luck with counseling. Her high school guidance counselor had advised her to go to secretarial school when Claire asked for college scholarship forms. Her marriage counselor had been helpless in the face of the relationship’s death throes. The divorce mediator had been unable to prevent her ex-husband from walking off with most of her small but precious art collection.

Now Sharon thought she should use a horse as a therapist.
Well, at least Willow wouldn’t charge for her time
.

“Why don’t you give her a treat?” Sharon suggested.

Claire had forgotten the baby carrots she’d shoved in her jeans pocket as she walked out of her rented house for her precious afternoon ride. Her life in New York City hadn’t allowed for horseback riding, and now it was the one indulgence she permitted herself between work and helping out her sister.

Claire dug out one of the carrots and held it on her flattened palm. “Go ahead, sweet girl, just enjoy it.”

Willow blew a moist breath against Claire’s skin, but didn’t take the treat.

“Do you think her teeth are bothering her, so she doesn’t want to chew on something so crisp?” Claire asked.

“I’ll ask Dr. Tim when he comes back.”

“Does he have a last name?”

“It’s Arbuckle, but no one calls him that. He took over Dr. Messer’s practice about six months ago. I’m surprised you haven’t heard all the talk around town about him.”

“I guess I’m not part of the grapevine yet.”

In fact, Claire hadn’t gotten involved in Sanctuary’s activities at all. When she found out her younger sister Holly had acute Lyme disease, Claire had come back to her old hometown to take care of her, hoping to mend their strained relationship at the same time. Despite all the time and energy she expended on both tasks, she wasn’t much nearer her goal than when she’d arrived three weeks ago.

Claire wanted to know more about the veterinarian, but Sharon was interested in her relationship with the horse.

“Willow looks less tense now. You’re doing her good. Now you have to let her take care of you in return.”

As Claire scratched gently around the base of Willow’s ears, the horse gave a deep sigh and leaned her head against Claire’s
midriff, making her stagger slightly. She felt a prickle of tears behind her eyes at this small sign of trust. If only she could get Holly to feel the same faith in her.

“Now look at Willow’s eyes,” Sharon said. “That’s what will tell you.”

Since the horse’s head was still drooping, Claire dropped to one knee in the deep, fragrant straw. With what looked like a huge effort, Willow lifted her head slightly, and Claire saw her eyes: dark, liquid, with a plea in them.

Claire wanted nothing more than to pour words of comfort into the mare’s heart and soul, to tell her she didn’t need to have that look in her eyes ever again. Claire leaned her forehead against Willow’s and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears threatening to roll down her cheeks.

She knew then what Sharon was talking about. This was her special horse, whether she needed Willow or Willow needed her.

“D
R
. T
IM
,” S
HARON
said, turning away from the stall, “how’s the expectant mom doing?”

As the vet’s voice rumbled on about palpation and the chorionic vesicle, Claire swiped her sleeve across her eyes and quickly pushed up to her feet. “Okay, Willow, how do I explain to Dr. Tim that I believe in whisper horses now? He’ll think I’ve lost my mind.” She gave the mare a hug and walked to the stall door, cracking it open to slip out.

Tim stood with his head bent, listening to something Sharon was saying. A curve of auburn hair fell onto his forehead, and it looked so smooth and shiny Claire had an urge to brush her fingers through it.

“Let me get Claire’s riding horse for her, and then we’ll take a good long look at Willow together,” Sharon said. She strode away from them before Claire could offer to come with her.

“How’d it go?” Tim said, sliding his hands into his jeans pockets. “Is Willow the one?”

“It may sound silly, but there was some kind of connection.” Claire waited for a jibe, but he just nodded. She flashed him a wry smile. “However, she has her own problems to get over before she can handle mine, so I’m counting on you to fix her up.”

“I’ll do my best, but Sharon’s the real miracle worker when it comes to horses. I’ve seen her save some I thought were hopeless.” He contemplated the scuffed toes of his tan cowboy boots
for a few moments before looking up. “I guess you have some pretty weighty problems.”

Claire was taken aback by his directness, but the sympathy in his gray eyes disarmed her. She thought about her ugly divorce and her sister’s ongoing reluctance to let Claire help her. “No more than most people. They just seem piled on top of each other right now.”

“Well, I sure hope Willow can help you out.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in that.”

“Oh, I never disagree with Sharon about horses. She’s forgotten more about them than I’ll ever know.”

Claire found herself liking his modesty. “She’s very picky about who handles her livestock, so she must think you’re quite knowledgeable yourself.”

The muffled thud of hooves and creak of leather announced Sharon’s return.

“Salty here is your ride for today,” Sharon said, running the stirrup down the leather so Claire could mount.

“He’s really big.” Claire eyed the gray gelding dubiously. He had to be over seventeen hands tall.

“I’ll be happy to give you a leg up,” Tim’s voice rumbled from behind her.

“Thanks, but I can—” Claire gave up her protest as he bent and laced his fingers together at knee height.

The slanting sun laid a brushstroke of light across his face, making the dark gray of his eyes turn luminous and the surface of his skin look warm and tempting where it stretched over his jaw. It was all Claire could do not to lay her palm against the plane of his cheek to test its texture.

“You can handle him fine,” Sharon said.

“What?” Claire was startled into a blush by what seemed like her friend’s mind reading ability.

“Salty. He’s strong, but he’s got a mouth like silk.”

“Oh. Right,” she said, pulling herself together enough to grasp the reins and saddle before bending her knee into the cup of Tim’s fingers.

“Ready?” he asked.

All she could manage was a nod.

Suddenly, she was hurtling upward as though she weighed no more than a cornhusk doll. She swung her free leg over the saddle as the vet halted her flight at just the right moment.

He wrapped his fingers around her calf and shifted her leg forward in order to check the security of the girth. The gesture was so automatic for anyone who rode that it steadied Claire. “Thanks for the leg up. It felt like I was being launched by NASA.”

Tim looked up from his task. His height made Salty seem like an average-sized horse. “Sorry about the overkill. I just came from inoculating a several-hundred-pound sow, so my muscles are still in pig-wrestling mode. Not that you look anything like a sow.”

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am.” Claire grinned. She shortened the reins to let Salty know she was ready to move.

The vet was still holding her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t you worry about Willow. We’ll make her strong enough to handle your troubles.”

When the horse took a restless step sideways, and Tim let go, she felt it as a loss. The warmth and strength of his grip were strangely reassuring. With just his touch, he had convinced her that her whisper horse would be in good hands.

“So Dr. Tim is new to Sanctuary? He sounds local.” Claire held Salty’s head while Sharon unsaddled him. Thoughts of the vet had teased her all through her ride. The strange frozen moment
while she waited to shake his hand and the feel of his fingers locked around her knee kept replaying in her mind.

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