Julie stood very still. She didn’t want to frighten the horse by her presence.
“Julie, don’t go near that horse.” Doc lumbered breathlessly toward her, but Matthew got to her first.
He looped her around the waist and curled her away from the stall and into his strong arms. He pushed her back and held her by the shoulders at arm’s length. “Are you out of your mind! That horse is dangerous.”
She winced at his harsh tone. Perhaps the accident had caused brain damage, but she wasn’t about to admit it to him. “I don’t think Token likes the way you’re talking to me. Look at him; it’s you that’s stirred him up.”
The horse reared, kicking his front legs outside the stall’s half door.
“That could have been your head he kicked,” Matthew hissed. “You want the other side of your face messed up?”
Julie straightened her spine. Hardening her glare, she pushed out from under Matthew’s arms and repositioned her scarf. “Don’t look at me if my face disgusts you.”
Matthew turned a pleading gaze to Doc, who was leaning against the stall opposite Token’s, rasping for air. “Tell her.”
“He’s right, Julie. Token isn’t . . . a horse to mess with.”
Noticing Doc’s complexion change from pink to pale, Julie rushed to his side. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be . . . fine.” He reached into his front pocket and removed a small amber pill bottle. “Open this for me.”
“How many do you want?”
“One.”
She shook the tiny tablet into her hand and passed it to Doc.
A few seconds later, his breathing wasn’t as labored. Color returned to his cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to cause problems. Really I didn’t.” Hinges rattled behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder as Matthew bolted the top half of the stall door shut. Poor Token. Closed up in the dark.
“I should have warned you about him sooner,” Doc told her, then turned to Matthew. “The children are due to arrive. Are the horses ready?”
“That’s what I was working on. Are you going to be all right?”
He nodded. “I’ve had chest pain before.”
Matthew disappeared into another stall, then left the barn with the black-and-white pinto.
Doc placed his hand on Julie’s shoulder. “Why don’t we go into the arena and watch the children for a while.”
“I think we should go back to the house so you can rest.”
“Hogwash.” He started walking away, but in the opposite direction Matthew had gone. “You coming or not?”
She fell into step beside him. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
Doc smiled as he led her through a small office that joined the paddock with the pole barn. Various trophies lined a shelf behind the desk. Pictures of horses peppered the wall, many with dusty ribbons hanging from the frames.
The door on the opposite wall led to the large indoor arena where sawdust covered the floor. A group of children were seated on a small bench at the long end of the barn. Quinn was talking to them, but he was too far away for Julie to hear his instructions clearly.
Matthew entered the barn with two ponies and tied them up along the wall next to the horses. The man seemed too gruff to be working with children, and blind children at that.
Doc motioned to a row of plastic chairs lining the wall. “Let’s sit a spell.”
She took a seat, her eye on the children. A boy and girl at the end raised their hands. “Those two must be the new ones Cynthia mentioned.”
“Matthew will pull them aside and work with them the first half of the day while Quinn works with the others.”
“It must be frightening for them. I know when my eyes were bandaged I stumbled just trying to find the bathroom. I can’t imagine what it’d be like riding a horse.”
“It takes a lot of trust and confidence, but children tend to be fearless compared to adults. Of course, the same confidence it takes to get up in the saddle can also get them into trouble. Both Matthew and Quinn are great instructors.”
“Matthew doesn’t come across as a patient man to me.”
“He is with special needs children. You’ll see.”
Julie observed the training and held her breath as the first youngster in Quinn’s group climbed into the saddle. Quinn helped the boy get his feet into the stirrups, then had the boy stand and sit back down.
Doc leaned toward her. “Balance is very important.”
Julie nodded, remembering how easy it had been to get disoriented and feel off-balance both when she couldn’t see at all and later when she had double vision. Thankfully the double vision had gone away. She motioned to the girl in the corner whimpering. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Not all of the children are just blind. Kimberly was born to a mother addicted to crack who never sought prenatal care. As a result she’s blind and also suffers from other issues, such as difficulty coping emotionally as well as developmental delays in speech and language. It’s very common for her to revert back to a two- or three-year-old’s communication level.”
“But she’s able to ride a horse. That’s wonderful.” She wanted to focus on something positive.
“Most of the time. Sometimes, like how it looks to be going today, she stands in the corner alone and cries.”
Alone. How sad. “Do you mind if I go ask her to join us?”
“Usually when she’s like that no one gets through to her.”
“I’d feel awful if I didn’t try.”
Doc motioned with a wave of his hand. “Approach her slowly. She’s also been known to hit people with her walking stick.”
“All the more reason to show this child love.” Julie stayed close to the wall as she made her way toward the child.
The girl had keen hearing. She stopped crying, and lifting her cane as if ready to whirl it, she faced Julie. “Who is it?”
“My name is Julie. What’s yours?”
“I don’t know Julie.” Her grip tightened on the stick.
“I’m new here. I actually work inside. I help prepare the meals. How old are you?”
“Seven. Ten. Eight . . .”
Julie waited for Kimberly to finish rattling off the out-ofsequence numbers. “You like riding the ponies?”
“No. Yes. Yes. No.”
“I do too.” Something about the girl tugged at Julie’s heart. How could someone be so addicted to drugs that they didn’t care about their unborn child? She wondered where the child’s mother was now. Locked up, hopefully. “You don’t have to stand here alone. You can come sit with me.”
The child rounded her shoulders and turned toward the corner.
“It was nice to meet you, Kimberly.” Julie stood there a moment. “I hope we can talk again.”
The child turned, jabbed her stick in the air, and started crying again.
Without thinking, Julie swooped down and gave the girl a hug. “I’m sorry you’re sad.”
Kimberly let out a high-pitched squeal and batted her arms against Julie’s back.
Julie released her.
Matthew stormed up to her. “Could you please leave this arena?”
Julie looked at the child, then over to where Doc was sitting. At least her employer didn’t look perturbed with her. Not yet anyway. She took a few steps toward the sitting area and felt something touch the back of her leg. Turning, she found Kimberly following her.
“I go, Jew-e.”
Julie reached for the child’s hand, and the two of them headed toward the sitting area.
The girl toddled beside her. “You mine?”
An odd familiarity left Julie speechless. Holding the child’s small hand, she was reminded of someone by the special bond they had formed in a matter of minutes, but who?
Julie yawned as she climbed out of bed. Over the past several weeks since her arrival, she had fallen into the regimented routine of the ranch. She and Cynthia prepared breakfast every morning, then depending on the day of the week, they worked on general housecleaning or laundry. In less than a month, Julie had fallen in love with the ranch and the people, with the exception of Matthew.
He had voiced his objection that Julie didn’t belong in the barns and made no qualms about sharing those thoughts with Doc. She’d learned to avoid the pole barn when Matthew was giving lessons, except when Kimberly’s school was on the ranch. Then it didn’t matter how many scornful daggers Matthew threw at her. She was determined to spend time with Kimberly.
Julie also disregarded Matthew’s instruction to stay away from Token. Sure, the horse had a mean streak. He still wouldn’t allow her close enough to touch him, but he also had a softer side when she had an apple or carrot in hand.
Not hearing any sounds coming from the kitchen, Julie smiled. Since staying on the ranch, she had yet to beat Cynthia to the kitchen. Julie glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Six o’clock. She hadn’t overslept. She padded out to the empty kitchen.
Standing at the window, filling the coffeepot with water, she gazed at the hint of pink on the horizon and the horses grazing on the lush green pasture. No rain. The start of a perfect day. Now that the fields weren’t muddy, maybe she would steal away on a walk later this afternoon. She loved the dry and warmer weather and loved breathing in the country scent. She was pouring the water into the coffeemaker when Doc lumbered into the kitchen.
“Cynthia is ill,” he said, his eyes hooded with exhaustion.
“Oh no. Is it something bad?”
“I’m sure it’s the flu.” He went to the sink and filled a glass with water. “How are you feeling? Any fever?”
“I’m fine. Is there anything I can do?”
“If you can handle making breakfast, that would help.”
“I’ll make lunch and supper and breakfast tomorrow too. Tell Cynthia not to fret about anything.” Cynthia hadn’t given her many responsibilities when it came to actual cooking—Julie mainly peeled potatoes or washed and cut vegetables—but she was willing to try.
“Thanks, that will be a big help.”
Julie got to work. Although pancakes would be the simplest meal to make, the men had eaten them yesterday, and they probably wouldn’t want a repeat. She opened the refrigerator and removed a couple of green peppers and onions, a slab of bacon, and a package of cheddar cheese. Julie set the bacon to frying, then diced the vegetables. By the time Doc came to the table and Matthew and Quinn came in from the barn, she had three omelets waiting and the last one on the stove.
The men helped themselves to the coffeepot as she served the food. Doc said grace as he always did before the meal, adding a request for Cynthia’s healing.
“What’s wrong with Cynthia?” Matthew asked.
“She’s under the weather with the flu.” Doc placed his napkin on his lap and picked up his fork and knife.
“Sorry to hear that,” Matthew said between bites. He pointed his fork at Julie. “You made a good omelet.”
“Yeah,” Quinn echoed, shoving another forkful into his mouth.
Julie waited for his disclaimer, like the vegetables weren’t completely cooked or it was too greasy, but it never came. “I’m glad you like it.” She set down her fork. “I couldn’t find the day’s agenda that Cynthia always reads.”
“Yeah, well, she did that for your benefit,” Matthew said. “We know what we’re doing.”
“Would you care to fill me in?”
Quinn looked from Matthew to her, then back to his coworker, as if amused with the entertainment.
“It’s Friday.” He quirked his brow at her as if to say she should know what day of the week it was.
She did, but that didn’t mean she knew the agenda. It depended on what school was on the schedule, and Cynthia had told her yesterday that a group had called to make a change. “What time do you want to eat lunch?”
“Eleven thirty.” He turned to Doc. “The horse auction is coming up at the end of the month. I think you need to consider taking Token and Matilda.”
“Why?” Julie blurted.
Matthew furrowed his brows. “Julie—”
Doc held up his hand to stop Matthew. “We can discuss it another time.” He dismissed the conversation from going any further by pushing his chair away from the table and standing. “I’m going to check on Cynthia. I would appreciate it if you two could get through the day without bickering.”
“Those two, ha.” Quinn lowered his head and excused himself from the table.
“We’ll get along,” Julie said sternly, staring at Matthew.
The back door closed behind Quinn, but it didn’t block out his laughter.
The moment Doc left the room, Matthew pushed away from the table. “Thanks for the meal.”
“You’re welcome.”
He shoved on his hat. “Stay out of the barn.” The door closed hard behind him.
Julie grumbled under her breath as she cleaned off the table. Then shaking the rag of crumbs into the trash, she caught a glimpse of the Saint Christopher’s School for the Blind van pulling into the driveway. Oh no, I’m not staying out of the barn, she thought, spotting Kimberly among the children climbing out.