Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sunday, March 25th
The sun shone brightly, and the sky was a vivid blue. Wes picked Eleanor up at her apartment, helping her into his truck. After sharing a meal the night before, she shut him out, insisting on staying in her own place. She compromised and let a nurse stay with her.
“Are you up to this?” he asked.
“Yes. Only a little tired. Thank you for getting the logistics put together. I appreciate it,” she said.
“Do you mind if I watch?”
“No, you’re the boss,” she said coolly.
Wes hit the brake. “Curly, please talk to me. At least hear me out.”
“Fine, tonight after dinner. You can meet me in my office while I write my notes.”
“Okay.” He put the car into gear and drove toward the stable.
* * *
Eleanor glanced at Wes. She wanted to have him hold her forever. Ian Chase’s words remained ominous—there was no way to sanitize them. He had accepted responsibility for her; she was in Ian’s custody. And by proxy, Wes’s.
Four large handicapped-equipped vans pulled into the parking lot. Sixteen men and women, including Troy, stepped from or were assisted from the vehicles along with their sixteen companions. She didn’t recognize the man with Troy.
“Hi, everybody, I’m Ellie. We’re all happy you’re here,” she greeted them. The stable staff, therapists and the attendee group formed a circle while Wes leaned against a tree and watched.
Eleanor encouraged them to introduce themselves and say anything they felt like. Most were reticent and said little. Troy was not.
“Hi, I’m Troy. I was hurt working as a private security contractor. Though multiple tours to the sandbox and elsewhere also left a few scars. The dreams suck.” He smiled. “I’m hoping to rid myself of some demons…or at least my fear of horse crap.”
The group laughed.
“Hey, my name is Kyle Cooper. I served with Troy a while back. I can attest to his fear of crap.”
Eleanor smiled at his sweet Alabama accent. She hoped by the end of the two weeks, at the goodbye circle, the others would be more open.
After introductions, she invited the group to stand on or by the rails and watch the horses in the ring. “They’re all beautiful, aren’t they? Watch them. Which horse reminds you of yourself today?”
Her question hung in the air. After ten minutes, one of the men cocked his head. “The white horse on the far side. He’s the scout. He’s watching everything. I do that,” he said.
Eleanor smiled. She thought about her hooved protector.
A female wrapped her arms around herself. “The brown and white one, he’s surrounded by the group. He doesn’t want to stand out. He seems a little anxious.”
Slowly the group began to open up. The animals led the way.
As the morning continued, she went over safety procedures. When the group headed to the cafeteria, Cord grasped her arm. “That was some feat you pulled off.”
Eleanor looked at her arm until he released her. “No feat. It’s what we do, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I guess it is. You get them.”
Eleanor continued heading to the cafeteria. “Yeah.” She took a deep breath; her body ached. Cord walked with her, talking the whole way.
After lunch, she walked the group into the barn. Luke stood at the end of the alley near the tack room. “I want to talk with you about these horses. I remind you what we went over this morning. Be respectful of each other and the horses, and they will be respectful of you. Walk around. Which horse are you drawn to? Their names have been removed from the stall doors. It’s only about you and them.”
Eleanor watched and smiled. The initial anxiety from the clients began to ebb away. Eleanor ran a hand through her sweaty head of hair.
