Chapter 13 #2
But the reassurance had no effect. The horse lunged against his halter, showing teeth as he whipped his head around again, the desperation in his actions speaking to terrible experiences at human hands.
My heart broke for him, for the trust that had been so thoroughly shattered that he couldn’t even recognize kindness anymore.
“I’ve got him,” Harlan said. “You stay back, Larkin. I don’t need you getting hurt.”
I did as Harlan ordered. I might have technically been Harlan’s boss, but when it came to horses like this one, I knew better than to assert my authority.
Harlan was a far superior handler, his calm demeanor and decades of experience invaluable in situations like this one.
I watched from a safe distance, ready to assist but knowing this part of the process required a steady, experienced hand.
Somehow, Harlan got the horse out of the trailer and into the stall.
It felt like a minor miracle. And the vet was ready to look over the horse.
But the moment the vet stepped up to the fence, the horse started acting out again, refusing to allow anyone to come near it.
This horse was not a lost cause, not by a long shot, but it was going to require patience, understanding, and time, three things that were difficult when the horse needed immediate treatment.
“Hold him still,” the vet said.
“I’m trying,” Harlan grumbled in reply. But the horse was tossing his head violently, pulling the lead rope in the opposite direction.
And then I saw movement from the corner of my eye.
It was Ephraim, standing by the entrance of the barn, looking like he wasn’t sure he should be there or if he should move.
I shot him a warning glare, making it clear that I expected him to stay out of this.
I was the one who had said that only trained people should be here for the safety of the horse and of the people.
But something in Ephraim’s face made him look unsure for the first time I had seen in years.
Harlan tried again. The horse jerked his head so hard it yanked Harlan off his feet.
The rope in Harlan’s hand became tangled around his arm.
He was struggling to stand. “I can’t get to him,” he growled in frustration, unable to do more than pull at the rope as the horse fought against his grip, clearly agitated.
The vet tried to step around him and approach from the side.
The horse turned his body, threatening to kick the vet in the chest.
“Everyone stay back!” the vet barked as Ephraim began to take a step forward.
“He’s right, Ephraim!” I snapped. “Get away.”
But the horse jerked harder, yanking Harlan toward him and dragging him toward the fence.
A moment later, the horse slammed the side of his body against Harlan’s arm with an angry squeal, trapping his arm in between his large body and the fence.
Harlan howled in pain and dropped the rope as he tried to jerk away.
“Harlan!” My heart was suddenly racing as I moved to help my friend.
The vet jumped over the fence and got between Harlan and the horse. Harlan managed to pull away, but the vet now had the horse’s attention, and he was clearly a threat. The horse reared up onto his back legs. “Get the tranquilizers,” the vet bellowed.
Ephraim moved toward them, a dark shadow moving forward in my periphery.
It wasn’t right. He had to know that. I whirled on him, intending to call him off and stop this insane decision he was about to make, but my words never made it past my lips as I was shocked into silence at what I saw.
The horse’s eyes had found Ephraim. His head was now cocked to one side, his body completely frozen, as if he couldn’t take his gaze away from Ephraim.
“It’s okay,” Ephraim said quietly, but loud enough to cut through the sounds of the horse snorting, and Harlan panting through his pain. Ephraim walked closer. He wasn’t in any type of position to protect himself or even stop if the horse chose to lash out.
But the horse just stayed there, watching Ephraim until his hooves dropped to the floor.
Ephraim was nearly within reach, and yet he moved so slowly that it appeared as if time was frozen, not a breeze or a bird’s song interrupting this impossible moment.
The horse’s breath was coming in short pants as its gaze locked with Ephraim, but there was no violence there, only curiosity and hesitation.
“See? Nothing to worry about.” Ephraim slowly held out his hand. “That’s right. You’re all right.”
The horse snorted again, but it was less aggressive now.
It almost seemed curious. The vet watched him, but he had his tranquilizer in hand and ready should anything go wrong.
I watched too. Ephraim didn’t need the training Harlan and I had, the understanding of the physiology of horses that helped us work around their natural fight or flight responses.
Ephraim wasn’t a novice at this, he just understood these creatures at a gut level, just as I had learned to understand their psychology.
“That’s it,” Ephraim coaxed, and a moment later he was running his hand along the horse’s nose.
“You’re going to be okay now. I won’t let anything hurt you.
That’s my promise to you.” The horse made another soft snort, but this time his head lowered as he pressed it gently against Ephraim’s chest. Ephraim wrapped an arm around his neck and whispered softly into the horse’s mane. “That’s right. That’s my good boy.”