White Water (10 page)

“Wow!” Tia's scowl deepened. “I don't get it. Why would he rip out just two pages and put them with the picture? Didn't you say he gave them to your Grandpa Sheridan himself?”

Kara rolled her eyes. “Don't you see? These two pages tell the story Great-grandpa wanted people to believe. I've only read a little, but from what Grandpa said, the rest of the journal proves this version is a lie.”

“Why?” Tia howled. “I don't get it. What difference did it make how he found her?” She reached for the journal. “More important, what's the real story? I can't wait to read it!”

Kara pulled the journal out of reach and stuffed it under her pillow. “Neither can I, but I haven't had a chance to get very far.” She looked at her watch. “And we don't have time now, either. Dad said to meet him at the barn by two o'clock. We're supposed to wear work boots and heavy gloves.”

A thud against her bedroom door proved her right. “Hey, Kara!” Ryan yelled. “You in there? I'm supposed to tell you two it's time to get to work, and you have to take me with you—Dad said!”

Dad was waiting at the barn with shovels, a manure rake, and two wheelbarrows. “I put Lily in the corral with the others so she could get some fresh air and be out of the way.
Greg and Colin rode out on Lyman and Dakota to fix any breaks in the pasture fence.” He led the way into the old building. “We shored up that back wall and it held through the winter, but we need to restore and seal all the walls or the whole place is going to collapse. Before we can do that, it needs to be cleaned out.”

“Why not just build a new barn, Mr. S.?” Tia asked.

Dad shook his head. “Too expensive. And there's really no need. Whoever built this barn used entire trees for posts and beams, and we put a new roof on it right after we bought the place.” He swept his arm around the cavernous room. “Because of the equipment shed, we really don't need this much storage down here. I'd like to rebuild the stalls, but that will have to wait a year or two.” He sighed and handed Ryan a short, flat shovel.

“Ryan, you muck the stalls while Wakara and Tia clear out some of this mess.” He pointed to one corner. “Put anything still usable over there. The rest goes to the junk pile. I've got someone coming to haul it out of here at the end of the week. When you get to the floor, use the shovels. We'll fix any dry rot when we come back in June.”

Kara groaned, and Tia made a face. Dad just grinned and headed for the door. “I'll be working on the corral. Oh, and girls?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Be careful of spiders, now, you hear?”

“Spiders!” Tia squealed, and Kara could hear Dad laughing all the way to the corral.

“W
ELL, WE DID IT
,”
Kara moaned when she and Tia finally got back to her room. “I may never move a muscle again, but the barn is clean!”

Tia stretched out on the bed and breathed a contented sigh. “It's miraculous,” she said. “A hundred years' worth of dirt and junk, and we dug it out in four hours.”

Kara winced and bent from the waist to stretch out her back. “There was no miracle involved, Tia Sanchez. We did it with the muscle God gave us.” She eased herself onto the bed and propped the pillow so she could see her friend. “I wish we had some of Anne's juniper oil. But there's no place to soak.”

Tia nodded. “Not a bathtub in sight.”

Kara laughed. “If there were, we'd have to stand in line. Everyone worked hard today.”

Tia grinned. “Yeah, everyone but Ryan. Did you see your little brother? Greg better watch out or he's going to lose a horse.”

Kara relaxed back onto her pillow. “You mean Lyman?”

“Sure. Ryan cleaned the stalls in the barn, then headed straight for the corral. Did you notice he didn't leave that horse's side all day?”

Kara frowned. Tia was right. Ryan had spent most of the afternoon brushing Lyman and feeding him apple treats. She remembered thinking it really wasn't safe for him to be handling the spirited Arabian by himself, but Dad was right there, and he didn't seem worried. “You're right,” she finally said. “I think maybe my little brother has outgrown his pony and is ready for a real horse. Not Lyman though.” She yawned and closed her eyes. “Maybe an older mare. Doesn't Mrs. Bryant have one for sale?”

Her answer came in the form of a soft snore from the other bed. Kara propped herself on one elbow. Sure enough, Tia was out. Kara yawned again, reached over, and turned off the lantern. “I'm really blessed, aren't I, God? You've given me a great family and neat friends.”

A picture of Colin flashed behind her closed eyes. Colin leaning against the porch railing, staring up into the heavens with that Cheshire Cat grin. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

“Wakara! Wakara, wake up!”

A hand was shaking her. At first she tried to ignore it, but the urgency in the voice drew her up through the mire of a deep, dreamless sleep. Her mind felt like it was wrapped in a thick cotton batting, and she had to concentrate to understand the words.

“Wakara, listen, something's spooking the horses. Bad!”

The terror in Tia's tone finally brought Kara fully awake. “What?” she said groggily. “Horses? Tia, what are you . . . ?”

“Shh. Listen!”

She heard it then. A sound like thunder, stomping hooves and shrill whinnies, then the unmistakable scream of an animal in pain. A chill spread down her arms into her back and legs.

Men's voices and the sound of a shotgun blast spurred her into action. “The horses! Tia, grab a flashlight.” She struggled into her flannel shirt and pulled on her boots.

This can't be happening
, she thought,
not again!
Just last June, a bear had broken into the barn and raided the sacks of grain. Greg and Colin had scared him off before he went near the horses, but he'd broken through the corral and spooked the whole herd. This time it sounded like things were worse.
Much worse!
she thought as a horse screamed again. Another gunshot sent her adrenaline into overdrive. Fighting off panic, she jumped to her feet and raced out the door.

Colin met her at the bottom of the steps. His face was white, and in spite of the cold night air, his forehead was dripping sweat. “Wakara, wait,” he panted. “Let me catch my breath.” Hands on hips, he straightened his back and drew in a lungful of air.

Tia ran up behind her as Colin continued, “We need a blanket and some old sheets if you can find some. That blasted bear was back, and he took a swipe at Lyman. It's hard to tell with just a flashlight, but it looks like he ripped out a pretty good chunk of hide. The first aid kit won't be enough.”

“I'll tell Anne.” Tia ran back into the house. A few seconds later, Anne appeared with a stack of sheets and an old wool army blanket. Kara grabbed them and started down the steps, then heard Tia yell, “Ryan, come back here!”

“You let go of me!” the boy yelled. “I got to help Lyman!”

“Ry, wait!” Kara tried to grab him, but her arms were full of linens, and she missed as he shot by her like a bullet from a high-powered rifle.
Give me strength
. She breathed the prayer, then raced down the hill after him.

Kara was used to doctoring the horses. She'd always wanted to be a vet, and blood didn't upset her, but suffering did. She cringed as Lyman screamed again, then the generator roared to life and the corral was flooded with light. When she stopped to catch her breath, what she saw sent a chill of fear up her spine. Even as she hurried forward to help, her brain registered the scene in fragments, gathering information and storing it like a computer into useful bites. Lyman on the ground, blood gushing from a gaping wound on his hip. Dad trying to hold the wound together with his bare hands. Greg at his horse's head, trying to calm him. Colin laying across Lyman's body, helping Dad hold the wound closed and keeping the struggling horse penned down.

“Ryan, get back!” Greg's voice rang sharp and angry as he pushed their little brother away. “Go on, now. You'll just make things worse.”

“No, I won't!” Ryan yelled, then his voice softened as he approached the horse. Staying just out of Greg's reach, he crooned, “Lyman needs me, don't you, boy?” He knelt and began to stroke the frantic animal on the neck, rubbing his hands under the mane and down the shoulder.

As Kara knelt next to Dad, the horse gave a great sigh and lay still. “Is he dead?” She pressed two fingers against the facial artery along the edge of his jawbone and felt a strong, fast pulse.

“No.” Greg's tone was still sharp, but he quit trying to push Ryan away.

Thank you, God
, she thought and began to examine the now quiet animal.
Vital signs first
. Her brain ticked off the things she had learned.
He's breathing, and the heart rate is fast but strong. But he's bleeding heavily and could go into shock
. Colin helped her cover the animal with the blanket. Dad gave up his hold on the wound. Blood seeped out of an inch-deep gash along the hip and thigh and oozed from deep scratches all the way down to the hock.

It seeped and oozed, but it didn't spurt. “Not an artery.” Kara breathed a sigh of relief. “And it's bleeding enough that we won't need to flush it.” She folded one of the sheets to make a thick pad and set it gently over the wound. Dad immediately used both hands to apply pressure, while Kara examined the more superficial scratches farther down on Lyman's leg. The horse flinched at her touch. “Do we have any Betadine?”

“Getting it now,” Colin said, and she realized he had moved off of the horse and was digging through the first aid kit. In just a few seconds, he handed her the bottle of antiseptic and a sterile sponge. “Keep petting him, Ryan,” she said. “This might sting a little.”

The little boy nodded and did what he was told, but his hands were shaking. Kara noticed that he kept his back to her so he couldn't see the wounds. Lyman struggled a bit, then gave up and lay still. In a few seconds she had cleaned the scratches, and Colin handed her another sponge and a jar of Furicine.

“Trade,” she said, and passed him the second sheet. “You and Greg tear this into several strips. Try and keep it off the ground so it doesn't get dirty.” Greg and Colin stood
and began tearing up the sheet, keeping it stretched
between them, while Kara carefully applied the soothing antibiotic gel, then took the first long strip and bound it around the horse's leg. She wiped sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her flannel shirt and glanced at Dad. His head was bent; his eyes focused on what he was doing. Kara felt a stab of frustration as she saw blood already seeping through the sheet
. What now?
“We can't elevate it,” she said aloud. “He's too heavy to move, and I hate to jostle the wound.”

“We have to bind it at least,” Dad's voice sounded raspy. “My arms are giving out.”

“We can do it,” Colin and Greg said together.

Kara nodded. “Okay, we'll try, but first we'll need some towels to make a thicker pad.”

“They are here.”

Kara turned and saw Anne behind her. “Whoa. Anne, thanks, that's perfect.” She accepted two thick, white towels and immediately set them on top of the blood-soaked sheet
.

Dad resumed pressure until Colin and Greg were ready with several long strips of sheet, then he said, “Let's do this fast. I'll help Colin lift while Kara shoves these under his hip. Greg, you lay across his neck and shoulders just in case. Ryan, if this horse tries to get up, I want you away from him fast, understood?”

The back of Ryan's head bent in what looked like a nod, but Kara was afraid that if it came down to it, he wouldn't move fast enough.
Please, God
, she breathed a silent prayer, then smiled as Anne joined Ryan by the horse's head. Anne began a soft crooning song, adding her touch to Ryan's. Lyman relaxed, and in seconds the strips were under the horse's rump. Dad placed his hands over the towels and pressed down once again, while Kara tied the fabric straps tightly over the wound, making a pressure bandage.

When she was done, Dad sat flat on the ground with a groan of relief. Anne's hands reappeared, offering three large bags of frozen peas. Kara almost laughed. “Anne, you're a genius,” she said as they placed the flexible ice packs around the padded wound.

“Mister Sheridan?” Tia's voice called from outside the circle of light. “The vet is on the radio and wants to talk to you.”

Dad jumped to his feet and hurried to the water spigot to wash off his hands. Kara moved the ice packs just enough to
peek at the edges of the towels. They were still white, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “You can tell him I think the bleeding has stopped, or slowed way down, anyway.” She felt the side of Lyman's neck. “His pulse is strong, and his heart rate has slowed down quite a bit too. Oh, and tell him I don't think there are any tendons involved, but he's going to need stitches, lots of them.”
And please, Lord, let him get here quick. I don't want to be the one to do it!