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)
“The halter,” I said to Jasper, and held out my hand. I didn’t take my gaze off Dahlia, who had begun to move her legs, the realization that she was free beginning to register. As she lifted her head, I threaded the halter over her nose and ears, only to get it fastened in time for her to roll to her belly, then hoist herself off the ground.
She was breathing hard, completely exhausted. She began to pull back, ready to bolt, but I held on to the rope and went with her. “Shh, girl. You’re still okay.” I placed my hand on her neck again and just breathed in and out near her face. Dahlia flinched at my closeness but didn’t try to run. Her body was trembling, and she needed immediate medical help.
“I’m going to walk her back to the barn,” I said to Jasper, but in the same voice I’d been using on Dahlia so she thought I was speaking to her. “Keep everyone back and make sure the barn is empty.”
“Careful, Hallie,” Jasper said, barely above a whisper, but I walked beside Dahlia, and thankfully, she walked beside me. She flinched, she jumped, and she was tense and scared, but when we made it back to the barn, Jasper had cleared it, and Dahlia allowed me to put her in a stall.
Unclipping her rope but leaving her halter on, I carefully backed out, uttering, “You did amazing, girl. What a good girl.” When I reached the stall door, I slipped through, never taking my eyes off the mare. She was blood stained and limping . . . but she was alive. The minute I’d seen the groom run over the field with the gun, my heart had shattered. I couldn’t have let that happen. I couldn’t have let Genny lose all she had left.
The stall’s door was manually bolted shut, failed electrics clearly the culprit of Dahlia’s escape and, seconds later, a vet came through the barn doors carrying her bag and a panicked expression on her face. She was clearly known to Dahlia as she let the vet go to her. The room came into view, and I noticed a few people who had entered the barn staring at me. At first, I wasn’t sure why, until I realized it was in awe.
“Thank you,” a female groom said, breaking from the cluster of people, and I numbly nodded. “I don’t know what Genny would have done if Dahlia had been seriously hurt . . . or worse.” Genny’s groom, I realized. The tears in her eyes told me she was close to Dahlia too. Almost on cue, Genny came into the barn, Forrest Knighton pushing her in her chair.
Genny’s cheeks were tear-stained and pale, but she exhaled a long sigh of relief seeing her treasured horse with the vet. My heart was beating too fast, and I knew it was the built-up adrenaline suddenly leaving my body in one fell swoop.
I closed my eyes when I felt a shaky hand take hold of mine. I opened them to find Genny looking up at me. “Thank you, Hallie,” she said, and I heard the depth of that thanks in her gravelly tone. She pressed the back of my hand to her forehead. “Just . . . thank you.”
I nodded but was unable to speak. Forrest caught my eyes next. I hadn’t been formally introduced to him before this, but I knew who he was from seeing him compete over the years.
“Thank you,” he said. “I was nearby and a groom called me over.” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.” Forrest tipped his head to the side. “Natural horsemanship?” I nodded again. Forrest must have seen I couldn’t speak, as he moved aside to let me past. “Thank you again. Dahlia means the world to us all.” He cut me a sad smile. “Sorry for how we are being introduced. I’m Forrest.”
“Hello,” I said, robotically. He must have seen I was struggling, as he gave me a sympathetic smile, then he and Genny went to the stall to see Dahlia.
I kept my head down as I rushed from the barn. I had to get to Huxley. I’d left him in the arena alone, and he needed to be put out into the field. I heard the whispers around me as I passed by the staff—all good things—but my hands had started to shake, and I felt a rush of emotion crash through me.
How silly, I thought as I pushed falling tears off my cheeks. But my breathing was choppy, and in this moment, I realized how scared I’d been. Scared that I couldn’t save Dahlia. That I couldn’t do anything to help and would have to see a much-loved horse put down.
Finding Huxley still in the arena, calm and waiting for me, I opened the gate and slipped inside. He came straight over to me, and I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck. I let the peace I always felt around horses seep into my bones and allowed a few stray tears to fall into his coat. I didn’t know how Canyon did it. How he could work with horses that were so emotionally damaged, so afraid of people and life.