Eleanor grabbed her jacket and headed out, Gwen on her heels. Wes also was quick to follow.
* * *
The corral abutted the kennel. Jeff Pruet sat against a fence post, his head swiveling constantly. Eleanor ran through the clients in her head. Jeff Pruet had returned from an Army mission in Africa and stopped functioning. Therapy and medication returned him to some function, but he’d seen a revolving door of professionals and never trusted one enough to work through the trauma.
She ran to the barn and clipped a lead to Linus’s halter. At the corral gate, she turned to Aaron. “No one comes in.”
“Ellie, he can hurt you,” Aaron cautioned.
“You warned me…okay?” she snapped and proceeded to walk into the corral.
“Jeff, it’s Ellie and Linus. Can we come over?”
Pruet looked at her through listless eyes. “I guess.”
Eleanor walked toward him and sat in the cold dirt beside him. The horse took a predatory position in front of them. “This is my friend Linus,” she introduced the horse.
Pruet’s eyes looked up at the white horse.
“On Friday, I was shot, and Linus protected me until help came.”
Pruet watched her in disbelief. Eleanor lifted her shirt, exposing the large bandage. “For once, being a big girl was a good thing.”
“You’re normal. Men don’t like twigs,” he muttered.
“I forget that sometimes. Get down on myself.”
“Hmm,” he said.
“Life can suck sometimes.”
“You have to make decisions. You can’t leave things in limbo. You have to decide.” Pruet stood up and headed toward the kennels.
Eleanor followed. “They’re training dogs over there. Maybe we should head to the pasture instead?” An uneasy feeling about the kennels struck her.
“You have to decide,” he repeated.
“Jeff. My wound is hurting. Could you hold on to Linus for me?” She counted on his innate honor.
“Are you okay?” He took Linus’s lead.
“Woke up achy today.” She stumbled.
Jeff grabbed her, dropping the knife. With one hand around her hip and one hand holding the horse’s lead, his hands were occupied. “I’m sorry, Ellie.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Ellie toed the knife away.
“I do. I punched my friend Jake,” he sighed.
“I’m sure he’s not too mad. Can you tell me what happened?” She leaned into him.
“I was getting dressed.” He released Eleanor and began rubbing Linus’s neck.” I looked out the window and saw the goats…” His voice trailed off.
Eleanor waited. He seemed unaware of the group assembling around them. She could see Gwen using hand signals. Wes stood with Aaron Bain, worry clouding his expression.
“The goat’s milk keeps them alive. We were there with the UN. Keep the kids safe to go to school. al-Murabitun, seeks to unite all Muslims. They were not good Muslims. They are terrorists. You have to make a decision.” His hand ran back and forth through Linus’s mane.
“What happened this morning?” she asked.
