Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Step back,” I said, taking a long, deep breath. Dahlia thrashed again, making the fence posts on either side of her groan. I winced when I saw the wire had cut into her leg, and if she wasn’t calmed, she was going to bring the whole thing down. She was bleeding and she was terrified, and I needed to get her out.
“Hallie . . .” Jasper went to argue with me.
“Step back, Jasper!” I said more sternly.
My heart was beating at a million miles an hour, but knowing I had to help Dahlia, I found a well of peace within me and let it wash over me. Taking off my Stetson, I placed it on the ground and kept my body low. Dahlia paused in her thrashing momentarily, and I used that pause to slowly approach. Her wide, dark eyes fixed on me.
They were pitch black—all dilated pupils.
“Ssh,” I said, softly. Not wanting to look away from her, I racked my brain for every lesson that Canyon had ever taught me when it came to natural horsemanship. I’d seen this before. I’d seen horses caught up in wire on the ranch. I thought of Canyon and how he approached them. It went against my effort that Dahlia didn’t know me from Adam, and she was already a stressed and fearful horse, but if I didn’t try . . . I wouldn’t even entertain the alternative.
Inch by inch, I drew closer. Dahlia didn’t take her eyes off me. “That’s it, girl,” I said, in a smooth, soft, feather-weight tone. “You’re all caught up, and we just want to get you out.” Her ears were jumping in all directions. I could smell the metallic scent of blood invading my senses and had to school my reactions when I moved close to her hoof. My hands were held out in a nonaggressive manner, showing her I wasn’t going to cause her more pain.
“Shh,” I said, again, and stopped at her stomach. Her front two legs were stretched out and trapped in the wire. She was now lying on her side, and she was losing the energy to hold up her head. As gently as a butterfly’s wings, I laid my hand over her heart. It was too fast under my palm. Dahlia flinched as I touched her, and her back legs kicked out, aiming to hit me.
“Hallie,” I heard Jasper hiss from behind me. But I didn’t take my eyes off Dahlia’s to look to him. He didn’t like me, I got it. But in this moment, I needed him to trust me and leave me the hell alone.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said to Dahlia again. Her breathing grew slower, and her head fell back to the ground. She was exhausted. She was in pain. But the poor thing didn’t know how to trust anyone anymore. I inched closer and closed my eyes. In my mind’s eye I saw Canyon with a young mustang colt a few years back. I remembered him moving his hand along the horse’s neck and back, gently massaging to calm him down. Leaning over Dahlia, I kept one hand over her heart and placed the other on her neck. Gently, I kneaded the muscle. “You’re okay,” I said softly. “You’re going to be okay, girl. We just need to get you out.”
Canyon had taught me to look for cues, subtle signs that the horse was relaxing, was trusting you. Right now, Dahlia was taut, a coiled spring—anything but calm. But after several minutes of talking to her soothingly and running my hand over her tight muscles, Dahlia’s ears relaxed a little, her breathing evened, and she broke our gaze.
I wanted to jump for joy as she looked away, head tipping up and her hind legs losing their tension. There, I thought.
Now.
I glanced over my shoulder, only to see Jasper watching me, chest rising and falling with nervous anticipation—eyes wide and shock on his face. “Wire cutters,” I said in the same tone I’d been using this whole time, so to not spook Dahlia.
One of the grooms carefully handed them to Jasper, and I indicated for him to move past me and try to cut the wires. I kept my hands roving over Dahlia’s body, praying I’d done enough to keep her in this neutral, calmed state. Her head flicked up when Jasper made the first cut of the wire.
“Shh,” I soothed again. Jasper made quick but careful work of the wires and then slowly stepped back. Always leaving one hand on Dahlia’s neck, or her flank, her back, I ran my hand down her front right leg and gently coaxed it back out of the fence. I made sure I kept breathing, not wanting to alarm Dahlia in any way that would make her panic.
Moving to the other leg, I did the same, exhaling in relief when both legs were freed. My hands were coated in blood, but her legs were free.