She held out her hand for the folder. “Here? That’s going to be costly. I’ve seen horses like Lady live to thirty-two.”
So had he, when they were well cared for, and if they had good genes. “I don’t think that will be a problem. The old man left a trust for the horses.”
Her eyes rounded. “A trust? For horses?” Her eyes lit with understanding. “So that’s why the grandson wants to be sure they’re well cared for. He wants to make sure Cole isn’t taking the money and not treating them right. He obviously doesn’t know Cole. He’s as protective of his horses as I am.”
Now he was confused. First, she sounded like a disgruntled employee and now she sounded completely loyal. “I’m sure that’s part of it, but like I said, I think there’s some grief associated with the whole scenario.”
She shrugged. “Whatever. If it’s going to happen, it’s going to happen.”
He had no idea if she meant people passing on or if she meant the grandson coming, but he wasn’t completely comfortable with either thought. Better to leave and let her do her job. He’d done his. “Everything there is to know is in there.” He nodded to the open folder in her hands. “I’ll be back in a couple days with the other two.”
Her head snapped up, a frown on her face. “A couple days? Why the delay?”
He shrugged, anxious to be going now. “I’m not sure. Again, I think the grandchildren may be reminiscing.”
She looked past him at Lady. “I hope she doesn’t mind being without them. The last thing I need is a horse who won’t eat.”
“Why wouldn’t she eat?”
She took a deep breath as if she needed to be patient with him. “Before I came, they had three almost starved horses arrive here. One wouldn’t eat unless she was in the same enclosure with the other two. They almost lost her before they discovered the problem.”
“How’d they figure it out? Was it just dumb luck?”
“Whisper.”
He glanced toward the barn and lowered his voice. “Was it just luck?”
Her brow crinkled before a half-smile lifted her lips. “No, I meant Whisper figured it out. She’s, well, an animal whisperer for lack of a better term.”
His doubt must have shown on his face because she shook her head. “I know, but if you’d seen some of the things that woman has learned and done with animals, you’d be a believer.”
He doubted that, but then again, he was probably the only non-superstitious firefighter for a hundred miles.
She closed the folder and stuck it under her arm as she hooked her right thumb in her front pocket. “We receive all the problem horses. The bruised, the battered, the starved, the neglected, the unwanted. Just like with people, that takes a toll on them. My goal is to make them whole again. The more I know, the better the chances of making that happen.”
He had to admit, not only did she pique his curiosity about the horses, but also about her. She was as hard to pin down as a wildfire. “Do you have a lot in here now?” He found himself gesturing toward the barn opening.
“We have a few.” She turned and headed inside. “Some of these will be going home eventually.” She looked over her shoulder. “Cole’s relatives get attached. The big guy is actually Dr. Jenna’s, our vet, but she doesn’t have a working ranch, so he stays with us. He came from a rescue place in Dallas. Don’t know if you noticed, but he has some burn scars on his back from being in a fire.”
He had noticed them. Burn scars were his specialty.
She stopped between two stalls of brown and white paints, one obviously still a yearling. “This is Lucky and his mom, Macey. Macey was brought here because her owner thought she looked more like a cow than a horse because of her markings. Lucky was born here and is Charlotte’s. That’s Logan’s daughter. The one outside is Logan’s. That’s Black Jack. He’s claustrophobic thanks to being inside a mine when it partly caved in, so Logan is planning to build a shelter for him over at Dr. Jenna’s before moving all of them over there.”
“Logan?” It sounded as if he was supposed to know who that was.
“Cole’s cousin.” She moved to another stall where a brown colt was suckling on a beautiful black Frisian. “This is Nizohoni and her colt, Phoenix. These are the two I saved.” Without elaborating she moved to another stall where a black and white paint greeted her. “This is my baby. I saved her too by buying her off my former employer. I don’t know who trained her, but she’s the smartest horse I’ve ever met, and I’ve met a lot.”
As the rough-edged Riley hugged the stately horse, he suddenly sensed that she only showed that kind of affection to her mount. Now why would he think that? “You saved them?”
She shrugged as she moved on to the other side of the barn. “That’s the whole point of this place. This little one is Tiny Dancer. For some unknown reason, even to Whisper, Cyclone is infatuated with this little thing.”
At that information, he took a second look at the small paint with almost bowed legs. She was as dainty and small as Cyclone was big. It reminded him of his first best friend in high school. She was very short and feminine. Made him want to take care of her even though they were never an item. “Maybe he just wants to protect her.”
She met his gaze for the first time since entering the barn. “I’ll suggest that to Whisper.” She moved to the next stall, which stood empty. “I’ll put Lady in here and the two geldings in the next two stalls, unless they need to see each other.”
See each other? When Cole told him he ran a horse rescue, he hadn’t truly understood what that might entail. “I don’t think that’s necessary, but if there’re any peculiarities, I’m sure Wyatt will let you know.”
She continued to the tack area. “By Wyatt, I assume you mean the grandson.” She grimaced even as she dropped the folder on a shelf and grabbed a pair of gloves.
