Chapter Eight #2
“He did,” Case said quietly, staring into his coffee.
“But am I supposed to believe every excuse for whipping an animal? I won’t.
Your father lost his wife of fifty years, and I sympathize, but how could I know he was telling the truth?
I hear all kinds of stories. Until I verify them, those animals stay somewhere safe.
I told him if he wanted them back, I’d go to court and testify that I honestly believe he was going through a rough time.
But judges aren’t interested in grief, the same way a police officer won’t just walk away from child abuse because they ‘understand.’ A livestock agent won’t look the other way when it’s animal cruelty. ”
Lois breathed so hard her shoulders shook. “He’s had those horses since they were foals. Both were born on that ranch. They’re twent y‐ two now. He’s never mistreated them.” A single tear tracked down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away.
Case leaned back, eyes softening. “He told me he didn’t want them back.”
“And I know he does,” Lois said, voice trembling. “He’s so lost without Mom that he can’t think straight. I talked him into living with me on my ranch, but I want him to have those horses.”
Case folded his arms. “I can’t make him take them.”
“I know.” She closed her eyes, then opened them. “But—”
“I have an idea. Want to take a ride with me?”
Lois managed to make a wan smile. “Sure.”
They rose. Case set a few bills on the table, and Lois clutched her purse. They stepped into the bitter cold and walked back to the lot of the courthouse to where his truck sat. They climbed inside, then Case started the engine.
Case eased the truck out of town, the low rumble of the engine blending with the whisper of wind whipping outside. After a winding drive past rolling pastures and weathered fences, they passed under a wrought iron arch; MERAS. Maisy’s Equine Rescue and Sanctuary. Lois sat up straighter.
“This is where they are?” she asked, voice hushed with hope.
“Yes, ma’am,” Case said, pulling alongside a large red barn. “And they’re being well cared for.” He cut the engine.
Lois slid out of the truck and followed Case to one of the barns, where he opened a door.
“After you.” The barn smelled of sweet hay, worn leather, and horses.
Moments later, they stood in a sunlit stall filled with two older horses. Their coats gleamed despite graying muzzles; soft straw carpeted the floor. One turned its gentle brown eyes to Lois and nickered softly.
“Case, it’s good to see you again,” Melissa Beckett called from the far stall. She wore a green work shirt stamped MERAS, and a stethoscope dangled around her neck.
“Hey, Melissa,” Case said, stepping forward. He gave her a quick hug, then gestured to Lois. “This is Lois Bittner. Her father owned these two.”
Melissa wiped her hands on her jeans and smiled warmly. “Nice to meet you. I’m the vet here; my husband and I run the place.”
Lois’s voice trembled with relief. “They’re all right?”
“In great shape,” Melissa said. “Lean, alert, and eating well. Come on, I’ll show you around.”
They followed Melissa out into the yard, where paddocks stretched under the cloudy sky. Case watched Lois’s face soften for the first time that morning.
“I was thinking,” Case said as they strolled. “Your father says he doesn’t want them back, but you think he does. Why don’t you adopt them? Any fees go straight to the sanctuary, and I’m sure Brayden and Melissa would give you a good rate.”
Lois’s eyes shone. “Why didn’t I think of that? Dad will be thrilled.” She turned to Case and wrapped him in a grateful hug. “Thank you.”
Case smiled. “You’re welcome. I’ll use a trailer from MDOL and take them to your ranch. I just need the address.”
Later, they bumped along roads back toward town. The afternoon sun warmed the cab of the truck. Lois glanced over at Case; her voice thoughtful.
“I appreciate you bringing the horses to my ranch. My husband used to handle the trailer without a second thought, but I’ve never managed it. He died in a car accident two years ago.”
Case kept his eyes on the road. “I’m sorry. You and your dad have been through a lot.”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “After Mom passed, I begged him to move in with me. But he clung to their home, memories are hard to leave behind.”
“I understand,” Case said.
“I do, too. But that old ranch has seen better days.” She shook her head with a rueful smile. “He’s seventy, still as spry as a young man, but I worry about him getting hurt alone.”
Case glanced at her. “My dad’s sixt y‐ five, and he’s the same. Doesn’t slowdown, which is great, but you never know.”
“My husband was only fort y‐ three,” Lois said, voice softening. “Life’s short. I miss him every day.”
“Yeah,” Case agreed. “I have friends who lost their spouses early. Some of them found love again, and they’re happy.”
Lois bit her lip. “I’m not there yet.”
“You’re still young,” Case said kindly.
She met his gaze. “Some days I don’t feel like it.”
They were quiet until Case eased the truck into the courthouse parking lot. He reached for his door handle. Lois stepped out just ahead of him, smoothing her coat.
“I’ll head on home,” Lois said. “I’ll see you shortly. Thank you.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Lois smiled, eyes bright with relief. She stretched out her arms and gave him one last hug. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to see Dad’s face when he sees them.”
Case watched her walk away, through swirling snow. Then he climbed back into the truck, the engine started with a friendly roar, and drove to the lot to get a trailer, so he could get those two horses home.
After dropping off the horses at the Bittner ranch, Case headed back to the office.
His eyelids felt like sandpaper as he stared at the snow swirling past the office windows.
The thought of his warm bed beckoned, but the roads were treacherous.
Locals born and raised in Clifton should know how to navigate these conditions, but every winter brought the same chaos.
The three small towns only surrendered to nature when forecasters predicted a serious storm, and this one had already dumped eight inches of powder across the two counties of Clifton and Hartland. This morning, his truck had fishtailed twice before he’d even left the ranch.
“Case?” a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.
“Hey, Eli.” Case turned to see his colleague stamping snow from his boots. “How’s it going?”
“I just got back from Spring City.” Eli’s cheeks were flushed red from the cold. “Four horses were stolen from the Mulligan place, but I got them. How’s your case going?”
Case smirked, rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Which one?”
“Either one.” Eli collapsed into the chair opposite Case’s cluttered desk, melting snow dripping onto the linoleum.
“I’m sure I know who stole the horse from the Wright ranch. Still working on the other one.”
“No arrest yet?”
“No.” Case tapped his pen against a stack of files. “Meeting the suspect and his lawyer tomorrow.”
“He lawyered up? He’s guilty.”
“No doubt. Can’t wait to get him in the interrogation room. The other guy involved was supposed to come in and talk to me, but with the weather being the way it is, he hasn’t made it yet. I’m hoping he will soon.”
“I bet.” Eli rose, his chair scraping against the floor. “I’m heading home. Solved my case and Dave said he’d assign me something new tomorrow.”
“Be careful out there,” Case warned, nodding toward the window where snowflakes were now falling thick and fast. “Get home safe to Lorna and Lily.”
“That’s the plan. Lily’s already demanding we build a snowman,” Eli said with a grin.
Case chuckled, picturing his friend’s daughter. “You’d better bundle up then.”
“No shit. See you tomorrow, Case.” Eli buttoned his heavy coat up and disappeared into the hallway, and Case got back to work.
****
Saturday dawned pale and crisp, and Sydney pressed her forehead against the frosty windowpane, watching the yard glisten under its fresh blanket of snow.
It had been nearly a week since she’d heard from Caysen, and her phone remained stubbornly silent.
She’d been counting on him to bring her horse home, his promise echoed in her mind, but instead there was only the soft hush of winter.
Sydney resisted the urge to text him; afraid he might be buried in work.
Still, each minute without news felt like its own kind of frostbite.
“Come on, Caysen,” she muttered, tapping the cold glass with her knuckle. “Call me and let me know what’s going on.”
She sighed, wrapped her arms around herself, then decided a ride might clear her head.
Outside, the storm had dumped a full foot of snow, and another was forecast for tomorrow.
Perfect, she thought, pulling on her heavy wool coat and a snug beanie.
She swung the back door open and inhaled.
The air bit at her lungs, sharp, exhilarating, and the yard lay silent, the usual wind held at bay.
Crunching through the snow, she reached the barn and paused in the doorway, letting her eyes adjust from the bright corridor of snow to the warm, shadowed interior.
The sweet tang of hay mixed with the musty scent of leather saddles.
She crossed to the tack room, unlatching the door and gathering a bridle, saddle, and cinch.
Moments later she stood beside the gelding, his dark eyes soft in the morning light.
She ran her fingers through his thick winter coat as she pulled the cinch, every buckle click echoing in the quiet.
When the saddle was secure, she placed her foot into the stirrup and settled into the saddle, the horse shifting beneath her with a gentle shimmy of welcome.