“Quite a place!” Bob Marsh echoed Lauren’s thoughts as she drove through the open five-bar gate. A sign overhead announced their destination: Eagles’ Roost Ranch.
“It’s a lot larger than I expected,” he added. “It seems to go on forever.”
The ranch was in a valley shadowed on one side by a large jagged mountain. For the last mile, the land beside the road was lined with a thick wire fence. Horses grazed in several paddocks, and cattle were visible in the distance.
She reduced speed as she drove down the gravel road toward a cluster of buildings dominated by a large rambling white house with a wraparound porch. What looked like stables were located on both sides of the house, each with its own riding ring and paddock. She saw parts of other buildings behind the stables.
Lauren had just parked when a woman burst through the front door of the house with all the energy of a tornado and walked over to the Jeep as she was stepping out.
“Mrs. MacInnes?” the woman said, then answered her own question. “But of course you are. Patti described you perfectly. I’m Sally Reynolds. We talked on the phone. I understand you don’t have much time, so we’ll get started. Reese is running late, so I’ll fill you in until he arrives.”
Sally was tall and athletically built. She looked to be in her midthirties. She wore jeans, boots, a leather jacket and an easy smile. Her glance went to Bob.
“This is Major Marsh,” Lauren said. “He flew me down here.”
“Welcome to Eagles’ Roost, Major,” Sally said.
“Make it Bob,” he said.
“I understand you flew from San Antonio. How was the flight?”
“Great,” Bob said. “Clear skies. The landscape was spectacular flying in. Mountains. Lakes. Forest. Even saw a herd of antelope.”
“This is really the best time of the year,” Sally said. “Winter is also breathtaking but it gets darn cold.”
“I didn’t realize there were ranches up here,” Bob said.
“We’re a disappearing breed,” Sally replied. “Most of the cleared land is being sold for residential and recreational uses. The few existing ranches in the area are mostly family owned and have been operating for a century or more.” She changed the subject. “Have you had anything to eat?”
“A huge jug of coffee and day-old pastries,” Bob admitted.
“Then have some lunch. There’s stew simmering on the stove...and bread just out of the oven.”
“That sounds great,” Lauren broke in, “but we’re really on a tight schedule.”
“Reese should be here shortly. He’s on the road back from buying some mustangs for the program. Something must have delayed him, and cell service out here is iffy at best. In the meantime, we can talk about the ranch and the program while you eat something. Reese should be here by the time we finish.”
Disappointment flooded her. She’d received the impression from Patti that the entire program here was his idea, as was the use of mustangs. She’d read a lot about equine therapy in the past week. It was obviously a growing field, but this was one of the few in which wild mustangs were woven into it. That was the part of the program she wanted to discuss. She wanted to be reassured about safety.
Until the accident, Julie had boundless curiosity and didn’t understand the meaning of danger. Lauren didn’t want that sometimes reckless curiosity to return in the midst of wild horses. On the other hand, the mention of mustangs might well be the lure to bring her to Eagles’ Roost.
Despite her irritation, Lauren had no choice but to wait for Mr. Howard. Bob had taken one of his few off days to fly her up here and she couldn’t ask him to do it again. She could have borrowed the plane and flown herself but she had to think about Julie now. It was simply safer with two experienced pilots on the plane.
“I’m glad you wanted to visit before sending your daughter here,” Sally said, ushering them up the front steps and into the large ranch house. “In fact, it’s usually mandatory for both parent and child. But since Patti had personal knowledge and thought your daughter would be a good fit for us, we waived it. But you know best about what your daughter needs.”
“Not any longer,” Lauren replied wryly, “unless you can turn the clock back fifteen months. She’s changed from the hard-charging athlete, but maybe even then I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did.”
“I wonder whether we ever do,” Sally said. “I’m learning new things about my son every day. Now, what about that stew? Betty Baker, our cook, is terrific.”
Lauren smiled at the name.
“I know,” Sally said. “But the name surely fits. She’s a great cook.”
Lauren was hungry and knew Bob must be, as well. “Sounds good,” she said. She would have to curb her impatience to meet Reese Howard.
“Great. Patti has told me about your daughter but I would like to hear the story from you,” Sally said as she led the way inside a large kitchen with two large stoves and numerous pans hanging everywhere. A pot, exuding delicious smells, was on the stove. Sally ladled stew into three large bowls and put them on a small table to the side of the kitchen. She added hot bread from the oven. “Iced tea or lemonade?” she asked.
Lauren hadn’t had lemonade in years. “Lemonade,” both she and Bob said together.
The aroma from the stew had not lied. It was terrific: thick with tender meat and potatoes, corn, onions and mushrooms with a tangy base. “Nearly everything comes from the ranch,” Sally said as she joined them at the table. “Now, tell me about Julie.”
Lauren took a deep breath. The details of that day were still so vivid. “We—my husband and I—were stationed in Germany with alternating deployments to Afghanistan. One of us was always in Germany with Julie.
“Julie flourished there. She loved athletics and excelled at track. She won most of the track competitions in which she was eligible. She liked other sports as well, but it was track she loved. We traveled all over Europe when we were on leave. Nineteen months ago Dane was promoted and transferred to Laughlin Military Base in Texas. There were fighter pilot shortages because of the war in Afghanistan, and I couldn’t get an immediate transfer.
“We gave Julie a choice,” she continued. “She chose the States. She was thirteen, nearly fourteen then, and hadn’t lived here since she was seven. Dane wanted her to know her own country, and Julie wanted to train in the States. To be honest, she was a daddy’s girl. He adored her. I was always the disciplinarian. And then, too, she had her heart set on the Olympics, and America seemed to be the best place for her to train.”
“That’s a big goal.”
“Julie had big dreams but they weren’t completely out of the question. She flew on the track and worked at it endlessly.”
Sally nodded. “Patti told me about the accident and her injuries.”
“She won’t run in the Olympics,” Lauren said flatly. “She’ll be lucky to run at all. But I’m hoping there are other sports that might interest her. Like riding. She does love animals. It’s one reason I thought she might like this program.”
“How’s the leg now?”
“More hopeful. She’s had four operations. The leg was torn up. They had to reset it twice. The first time it didn’t work. The second time they transplanted bone from her hip into her leg. Nerves and ligaments were torn in her ankle and she couldn’t move her foot. They took some muscle from her ankle and substituted it for a nerve so she can have some movement there. That’s where we are now. Waiting to see if it works. Even if it does, the movement will never be as it once was, but she won’t have a drop foot.”
Lauren hesitated, then continued. “The question is, then, how can she ride? It would break her heart to sit back and watch others.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. Not with all the precautions Reese takes,” Sally said. “He has equipment to help riders with disabilities mount, and he also has a horse that’s been trained to lie down while someone mounts. I’m a trained physical therapist and certified in equine therapy. All our instructors who work with the program are fine horsemen and women and have taken courses in equine therapy.
“In addition to our riding instructors, we assign one of our employees—we call them buddies—to each teen for the month. They stick pretty closely to their assigned participant, and during the month all our hands are watching over them.”
“Who are the other kids?” Lauren asked.
“Two boys and one other girl. All three have lost a parent and are struggling. We became involved after Reese donated some horses to a program run by veterans for veterans in Covenant Falls. They operate an ongoing program for veterans suffering from PTSD. They wanted to do one for kids who lost a military parent and/or had emotional or physical problems, but the demand for more veteran programs was too strong.
“In short, Reese wanted to help and decided to develop a program for kids of fallen military members. He assembled experts and came up with what we have now. We call them Junior Ranchers.”
“I like that,” Lauren said, “particularly giving each one a buddy.”
“They are our younger cowhands who volunteer. They truly enjoy it and often stay in touch with their participant long after the program ends,” Sally said.
“Tell me about the other participants,” Lauren said.
“The boys are Heath Hanson, who lost a father in Afghanistan. He’s currently living with his uncle. Tony Fields is the son of a veteran who had PTSD and committed suicide. The third is Jenny Jacobs. She lost her mother, a helicopter pilot, and her father isn’t coping well.
“While they’re here, they’ll learn horsemanship and the care of horses. There is a psychologist—Dr. Paul Evans—who will drop in throughout the month. He’s retired but keeps his credentials up-to-date, and he’s like a grandfather to these kids.
“The kids learn to ride on well-trained riding horses,” she continued. “There’s any number of benefits. Riding improves balance, strengthens muscles and does wonders with self-confidence among other benefits. But with the mustangs, they just talk and spend time with them. The horses, in turn, learn to trust human beings. There seems to be some magic between these horses and youngsters with physical or emotional problems,” Sally explained. “They both benefit.”
“I read some books about it,” Lauren asked. “Until then I had no idea how many similar programs there are, and how valuable they can be.”
“Horses by their very nature are empathetic. They want to please once they realize you’re not going to harm them or their herd.”
“How does the coed aspect work?”
“Fine. There’s usually a healthy competition but these kids come from military families and are used to moving and making new friends. We talked about having all-girl and all-boy programs but then that would limit availability. So far it’s worked well. They all have similar problems.
“We’re very careful, though,” she added. “The girls live in the house, the boys in the bunkhouse. In addition to the stables and an outside ring, we have a barn for storage and as a second riding ring in bad weather. We also have cameras throughout the property, and not only because of the program. Cattle rustling is still alive these days.”
“And the mustangs?” Lauren asked as Sally refilled her glass with lemonade. The mustangs had been a major concern.
“There’s nothing to worry about there,” Sally said. “It’s a matter of the kids talking to the horses from a safe distance. Maybe reading or singing to them. The kids prepare the horses for training by interacting with them, then watch as our horsemen start the training and finally become part of it. We’ve discovered the horses are far less nervous when ‘their’ person is present.”
They finished the stew, and apple pie came next. Lauren was going to refuse but it smelled too good. It certainly was much better than her reheated frozen pies. If this was an example of what was served to the kids, she had no worries about the food aspect of the program.
When they finished lunch, Sally showed Lauren a scrapbook full of photos of previous participants and gave Lauren their parents’ phone numbers if she wanted to check with them. “They’ve given us permission,” she assured Lauren as she led Lauren and Bob to the room Julie would stay in. After that they went to the stable.
“Can I take photos with my cell?” Lauren asked.
“Sure. Anything you want,” Sally said as she opened the door and led them down the aisle of stalls. Only a few stalls were occupied. “These are several of the riding horses used in the program,” she said as they passed stalls. “Right here we have Snowflake, Anna Banana, Patches and Bandit, because of the black patches around his eyes. All are mustangs and were wild when they came to us. Now they’re well-mannered saddle horses.”
There was no mistaking Snowflake, who stuck out her head and whinnied a welcome. She was snow-white except for a few patches of black on her legs.
“She wants a carrot.” Sally said. “There’s some in that bucket near the door. Can you get four of them?”
Lauren did as requested. She gave two to Bob and they offered a carrot to each horse. Lauren started with Snowflake, who took a carrot gingerly and nuzzled Lauren’s hand by way of thanks. She went to the next horse, a pinto named Patches, according to the sign attached to the door.
Just as they finished presenting the last carrot to Anna Banana, Sally’s cell sang a happy tune, and she answered it. “Reese is coming through the gate. Would you like to see the unloading of the mustangs?”