Chapter 20 #2
Lila glanced up at River, who had the decency to look ashamed, then back to the wound. “I’ll need to clean this and get a better look. Can we move her to the barn?”
“I brought the trailer,” Walker said, straightening.
“Good. Can you bring it over? I’d rather she not walk more than necessary until I assess the damage.”
“Sure thing.” He went to his truck and backed it up until the trailer was positioned just a few yards from where Sunny stood trembling.
Lila reached into her bag and pulled out a syringe. “This is a mild sedative. Just enough to keep her calm for transport.”
Jonah hadn’t moved from Sunny’s head, his hand still stroking her neck, murmuring reassurances. “Will she be okay?”
“I won’t lie to you.” She administered the injection. “It’s a deep laceration. But if we can get her cleaned up and stitched, and it didn’t hit a tendon, she should heal well.”
Her voice was kind and matter-of-fact. Professional. She’d clearly said these words to worried owners before.
“Trailer’s ready,” Walker called.
Together, they coaxed Sunny up the ramp. The sedative had taken effect, making her docile if still unsteady. Jonah never left her side, his hand on her side, guiding her with gentle pressure.
“I’m still calling the sheriff!” Dennis shouted from his truck. “This isn’t over, Nash!”
Everyone ignored him, too focused on loading the mare safely.
Once Sunny was secured in the trailer, Lila turned to Boone. “I’ll follow you back to the ranch.”
“Thanks,” he said, trying to ignore the strange flutter in his chest at how she’d matured. The girl he’d once teased about her science fair projects had become a woman who commanded attention without even trying. “We’ve got a fully equipped barn. Whatever you need.”
“Good.” She hesitated, then added, “You should know Luke’s with me today. He was riding along on calls.”
As if summoned, Luke Garrison stepped out of the passenger side of the blue pickup. He was broader than Boone remembered, his once-lanky frame filled out with muscle. The years had been kind to both Garrisons, it seemed.
“Callahan,” Luke said, nodding stiffly as he approached. “Heard you were back.”
“Been back a while now,” Boone replied, keeping his tone neutral. Luke had been his best friend once, but that was years ago, before the military, before prison, before Valor Ridge. They might as well be strangers now.
Luke’s eyes narrowed, jaw tightening as he looked Boone up and down. “Yeah, well. Heard all about your little rehab ranch. Town’s buzzing about it.”
The way he said it—like Valor Ridge was some kind of joke—made Boone’s hackles rise.
“It’s Walker’s place, not mine,” Boone said, voice cooling several degrees. “And it’s doing good work.”
“That right?” Luke snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Looks to me like you’re just letting troublemakers run wild, endangering the community.”
River took a step back, as if trying to make himself invisible. Walker’s gaze darted between the two men, watchful.
“One incident doesn’t define us,” Boone said evenly, though his pulse had quickened. “Unlike some people, we don’t judge a man by his worst day.”
Luke’s face flushed dark red. “Is that what prison was to you, Callahan? Just a ‘bad day’?”
“Enough,” Lila cut in sharply, stepping between them. “We have an injured horse that needs immediate attention. Luke, get back in the truck.”
Luke held Boone’s gaze for another tense moment before turning away with a muttered curse.
Lila shot Boone an apologetic look. “Sorry. He’s been... struggling since he got back.”
“Aren’t we all,” Boone replied quietly.
Walker approached and laid a steadying hand on Boone’s shoulder. “Let’s get Sunny back to the barn. River, mend the fence, then take Boone’s ATV back.”
For once, River didn’t protest or crack a joke. He just accepted the fencing and tools Walker pulled from his truck bed and got to work.
Boone climbed into the cab of Walker’s truck. Walker slid behind the wheel, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.
“Do you think River actually cut the perimeter fence?” Walker asked as he put the truck in gear.
Boone wanted to say yes. He wanted to give Walker a reason to kick River out. Problem was, he believed River was telling the truth when he denied doing it.
“No. River didn’t do it.” Boone glanced in the side mirror at Lila’s truck following them. Jonah brought up the rear on his ATV. “But this wasn’t an accident.”
“It never is.” Walker drove slowly, mindful of the injured horse in the trailer. “First the break-in and tree falling last Christmas, now this.”
Plus, the broken water line in April. The contaminated feed in June. The slashed tires in July.
They’d spent the last year trying to write off the incidents as bad luck.
Despite finding the suspicious ax marks, the tree could have fallen naturally under the weight of the snow.
The feed could have been a supplier error.
The water line might have frozen and cracked.
Even the tires—four vehicles in one night—could have been random vandalism.
But Boone didn’t think so. “Someone’s escalating.”
They pulled up to the barn in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. Jonah was already there, having cut across the pasture on the ATV to prepare a stall with fresh bedding. His face was tight with worry as they backed the trailer to the barn entrance.
“Stall’s ready,” he said, his voice strained. “I put down extra bedding.”
They unloaded the mare carefully, guiding her into the prepared stall. She limped badly, the bloodstained flannel still wrapped around her leg, but at least the sedative kept her calm. Lila followed with her medical bag, Luke trailing behind with additional supplies from their truck.
“I need good light,” Lila said, already pulling on latex gloves. “And warm water if you have it.”
“Got it.” Jonah hurried to fill a bucket while Boone adjusted the overhead lights, positioning them to illuminate Sunny’s injured leg.
Lila knelt beside the wound, her movements confident and precise as she unwrapped the makeshift bandage. Fresh blood welled up immediately, bright red against the golden coat.
“This is deep,” she murmured, probing gently. “Luke, hand me the irrigation solution.”
Luke passed her a bottle, his expression softening slightly as he watched his sister work. Whatever anger he harbored toward Boone didn’t extend to the animals.
“Will she be okay?” Jonah asked, his voice tight with worry.
“The good news is it missed the major tendons,” Lila replied, cleaning the wound with practiced efficiency. “But she’ll need stitches, and there’s a risk of infection. She won’t be bearing weight on this leg for a while.”
Boone watched Lila’s hands as they moved over Sunny’s injury—steady, gentle, sure.
The same hands that had once bandaged his scraped knees after he’d crashed his bike in her driveway.
The same hands that had helped him build a fort in her backyard the summer before high school.
Now they were saving Sunny with the same quiet competence.
“I’ll need to sedate her more heavily for the sutures,” Lila said, reaching into her bag. “Someone should hold her head.”
“I’ve got her,” Jonah volunteered immediately, moving to cradle Sunny’s head in his arms. The mare leaned into him, trusting him even in her pain.
Lila administered the injection, then began laying out her suture kit. “This will take about thirty minutes. The wound is clean-edged, which helps, but it’s long.”
The barn door creaked open, and River slipped inside, his usual swagger replaced by something that looked almost like genuine remorse. His dark curls were wind-tousled, his hands stained with dirt from mending the fence.
Walker’s head snapped up at the sound, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto River. The temperature in the barn seemed to drop ten degrees.
“You,” Walker said, pointing at him. “My office. Now.”