Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“We’re gonna be okay, Sal.”
We smell the smoke before we even turn onto the Wallace Ranch. Wyatt frowns as he guides the truck up to the horse barn. The lights are off; several windows are broken.
There are dozens of people, all of them milling around with flashlights and phones in their hands.
Wyatt and I hop out of the truck. He immediately finds Beck, who explains what happened. Apparently, the fire was started by some bad electrical wire in one of the stalls. The staff was able to put out the fire, but the barn sustained significant damage.
Side note: I love how Wyatt and Beck’s little pissing contest has been put to bed. In true cowboy fashion, they’ve silently agreed that there’s no time for grudges or awkwardness. This is ranch business—cowboy business—and that always comes first.
Dad is already here. He’s standing with Ava and Vance in the gravel outside the barn’s entrance.
“Structure is fine.” Dad nods at the barn. “But the damage to the interior is extensive.”
Ava nods. “Luckily, we got all the animals out. All but the two horses are okay. If y’all don’t mind, I’d like to get a move on. We’re keeping the injured animals in the arena up the hill.”
Wyatt nods. “We’re following you.”
We climb back in the truck, and together with Dad and Ava, we form a little caravan that moves quickly through the silent dark.
The arena is massive—and massively impressive. I can smell the new lumber and fresh paint as I hop out of the truck. I’ve been to rodeos plenty, and I’m always impressed by the barrel racers I’ve seen. The Wallaces must really be serious about their program if they rolled this much money into a training facility.
Wyatt wordlessly moves to help Dad and me unload the equipment we need from the back of Dad’s pickup.
Pays to date a cowboy, I think to myself as I put on my headlamp and walk into the dimly lit, soaring space of the arena. Especially a cowboy as knowledgeable and smart as Wyatt. I don’t need to tell him to grab the portable X-ray. I definitely don’t need to tell him to keep his footfalls quiet as we approach the animals in the makeshift stalls on one side of the arena.
Ava nods at the stall to the left. “This poor baby won’t put weight on his front leg. And I think that one”—she motions to the next stall—“has issues with the back left leg.”
I loop my stethoscope around my neck. “Did anyone see what happened?”
“No, but I can guess. The horses panicked, and these two ended up getting trampled.”
“Any burns?”
“None that I saw, no.”
My stomach clenches. I meet eyes with Wyatt.
He approaches the first horse before me. He’s not being rude; he’s just making sure I’m not also going to get trampled by a skittish, injured colt who weighs as much as a car.
“Hey, buddy.” Wyatt keeps his voice low and soft.
The colt is a beautiful animal, its shiny black coat gleaming in the overhead lights. But the rapid rise and fall of his sides are a dead giveaway that he’s in pain.
“We’re just here to help. You’re hurting, aren’t you? You’re gonna be okay.”
Wyatt moves slowly, holding up his hands. When he reaches for the horse, the colt whinnies and pulls away, his eyes wild.
My cowboy, however, won’t be deterred. “You got the best surgeon in the world here to take care of you. That’s right. You’re gonna feel so much better after she helps you.”
Wyatt strokes the horse’s back in steady, careful movements, and slowly but surely, the horse calms down.
Meanwhile, I’m bursting with…I don’t even know what. Worry for the horse. Adoration for Wyatt.
Excitement that I get to do what I love, with the man that I love.
I belong here. Deep down, I think I’ve always known that, but Dad’s dreams for me overshadowed my desire to return to Texas and make a life here.
After a few minutes, Wyatt has the colt literally eating out of his hand. Because again, Wyatt is a cowboy, and he thought to stuff apples into the pockets of his jacket on his way out the door.
Rubbing the colt’s nose, Wyatt glances at me over his shoulder. “I think he’s ready for you, Dr. Powell.”
Blinking, I put the tips of my stethoscope in my ears. “Thank you, Mr. Rivers.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Ava leaning into Dad and asking, “Do they always refer to each other that way?”
“That appears to be…new.”
I don’t have time to decipher Dad’s tone. I get to work, listening to the colt’s heart and stomach, while Wyatt strokes him, keeping him calm.
He gets skittish when I bend down to examine his injured leg.
Wyatt puts a hand on the colt’s neck to keep him steady. Then he looks down and says, “It looks like a compound fracture.”