The Place I Belong (6 page)

“Yes, ma’am.” Matt practically bolted for the back door of the barn.

“You’re a good person,” Hannah said to Sharon. “He would’ve died rather than admit he’s scared.”

Three more checkups completed her roster of patients at Healing Springs Stables. “Let’s go find your assistant,” Sharon said, after Hannah closed up her bag.

They strolled outside, where the slanting sunshine seemed to set the nearest mountains ablaze in scarlets and golds. Hannah stopped a moment to absorb the beauty of the undulating ridges rolling away into the distance, the brilliant colors fading to cool blue on the furthest slopes. The nearer view offered white fences and horses scattered over rolling grass. She spotted Matt standing beside a paddock, staring between the fence rails.

“Matt, we’re done here,” she called, expecting him to greet her announcement with enthusiasm. Instead, he looked at her and then back into the paddock before he waved her over.

She exchanged a glance with Sharon, and they joined him by the fence.

Matt pointed toward one corner of the enclosed field. “I think there’s something wrong with that little horse over there.”

Hannah peered in the direction he was gesturing. She saw a chestnut pony, his coat dull and rough, with a wild puff of a flaxen mane and tail. He was standing away from all the other horses in the field, his head drooping and one back hoof propped on tiptoe. “He may just be napping,” she said. “Horses often sleep standing up.”

Matt shook his head. “Nah, he’s awake. Another little horse came over to him and he tried to bite him.”

“That’s Satchmo,” Sharon said. “His stall buddy down in Florida died, so he’s grieving. I brought him up here about a month ago, and he’s been down in the dumps ever since. I’m getting kind of worried about him.”

Hannah scanned Satchmo from head to tail, trying to pick up clues as to what was wrong. “Why don’t I take a look at him?”

“I’d be real grateful for that,” Sharon said, heading for the gate.

“Can I come too?” Matt asked, as Hannah followed. Her surprise must have been obvious because he shrugged and said, “He’s small.”

Hannah nodded and waved him through the open gate. “Tell me Satchmo’s history,” she said to Sharon as they walked toward the sad-looking pony.

“He was the stall buddy for Jazzman.” Sharon turned to Matt. “Some racehorses need company to keep them calm, so their trainers find them a friend. Sometimes it’s a dog or a goat. Seabiscuit had a monkey. In Jazzman’s case, it was a pony.”

Hannah recognized the name of the racehorse. “He was supposed to win the Triple Crown.”

“Until he developed acute laminitis, and they had to put him down,” Sharon said. “Such a tragedy. That horse could run.”

“So they killed Satchmo’s stall buddy?” Matt asked.

“I’m sure they tried everything they could to treat Jazzman’s laminitis,” Hannah said, feeling sympathy for the unknown vet who’d administered the final injection, “but it’s horribly painful when it becomes acute, so it was a mercy to the horse to euthanize him.” She decided not to point out that Jazzman was extremely valuable and therefore putting him down would have been a last resort for financial reasons, if nothing else. She hated being so cynical, but hard experience had taught her the realities of life among the rich, especially when it came to their animals.

“Man, that’s rough,” the boy said, stopping ten feet from the pony and eyeing him warily.

“Come on up and hold him for me,” Hannah said. His unexpected interest in the pony seemed like progress, so she wanted to encourage it.

He hung back. “He’s got big teeth.”

“I’ll show you how to hold his halter so he can’t bite you,” Hannah said. Satchmo finally turned to gaze at the three humans discussing him. His ears drooped toward the ground, giving him an air of listlessness. The pony didn’t look like he cared enough to snap at anyone, but Matt said he had, so she approached with caution. “Hey, Satchmo. How’s it going, fella?”

He offered no resistance when she slipped her fingers under the cheek strap of his halter and gripped it firmly. She ran her free hand over his neck, feeling the coarseness of his coat. It contrasted sharply with the glossy good health that shone in most of Sharon’s horses.

“He eats just enough to keep body and soul together,” Sharon said, “but he’s lost weight since he got here. Dr. Tim gave me some high-calorie supplements and vitamins to keep him from wasting away.”

Hannah kept hold of the halter with one hand, stretching sideways to probe along the pony’s back and ribcage with the other.

“I’ll take him,” Matt said from behind her as she came to the end of her reach. She was wondering why Sharon didn’t volunteer to help before she realized the horsewoman knew what she was doing when it came to people too.

“Great. Stand here beside his head so he can see you easily. Now take the cheek strap of his halter with your right hand.” Hannah said. “If he seems restless or uncomfortable when I touch him in a certain place, let me know. And you can stroke his nose to keep him calm, if you want.” She hoped she hadn’t pushed Matt too much with the last instruction.

The boy stepped up beside Satchmo’s head, moving gingerly. The pony flicked an ear but didn’t offer to bite him as Matt took the leather of the halter. The boy stood very still as though afraid any movement would set off an attack from Satchmo’s big, s
quare teet
h.

“Relax,” Hannah said, giving Matt’s shoulder a friendly squeeze. “He’s not much bigger than a dolphin.”

Matt gave her a nervous smile, but his stance remained rigid. As she went back to feeling the pony’s belly, she worried she might hit a sensitive spot and provoke Satchmo to nip at Matt. A quick glance sideways reassured her as she saw Sharon join Matt by the pony’s head. Now Hannah could focus on what was ailing the sad little creature. After giving Satchmo a thorough examination, she stood back to look at him, taking in all the visual cues again.

“I think you’re right, Sharon,” she said at last. “I can’t find anything physically wrong with him, so it must be an emotional issue.”

“That’s why I’ve got him in the field with other horses,” Sharon said. “I was hoping he’d find a new friend.”

Hannah noticed that Matt was carefully running his palm down Satchmo’s nose so she kept talking. “I notice you have a good variety of friends for him to choose from. Thoroughbreds, quarter horses, another pony.”

“That’s the one he tried to bite,” Matt said, switching hands on the halter so he could stroke down Satchmo’s neck. The pony blew out a loud breath and leaned into the boy, making him stagger slightly. Matt looked up at Hannah, his eyes wide. “Does that mean he likes being petted?”

“Yup, he wants more. Try scratching behind his ears.”

The boy’s face lit up and he reached for the base of the
pony’s left ear. Satchmo lifted his head and brought it down to rest on top of Matt’s shoulder, his eyelids half-closed. “He likes me,” Matt said, shifting his ministrations to the other ear.

Hannah looked at Sharon, who was grinning from ear to ear as she watched the interaction between the boy and the pony. “I haven’t seen Satchmo look this happy since he walked out of the horse trailer that brought him here,” Sharon said. “You’ve got a gift, young ’un.”

“Really?” Matt said, giving the pony’s neck a long stroke. “You think I do?”

“I reckon so. You’d be doing me a big favor if you’d come out to visit Satchmo regular-like. Maybe you could even take a ride to exercise him.”

Matt seemed to have forgotten all about his fear of the pony’s teeth as he alternated between ears. Sharon’s last comment brought his fingers to a halt. “I don’t know how to ride.”

“No problem,” Sharon said. “I’m a decent teacher.”

Hannah coughed at the understatement.

Matt’s expression went from excited trepidation to flat disappointment. “I don’t have a way to get here and I can’t afford to pay you.”

“I’m sure your dad could help with both those things,” Hannah
said. She was certain Adam would be thrilled to have his son involved with something so worthwhile for both him and the pony.

“Nah,” Matt said, dropping his hand and releasing Satchmo’s halter. “He’s busy with the restaurant in the afternoons. And he’s not big on spending money.”

Hannah was stunned. The Aerie was beyond successful; the whole town knew Adam Bosch was a wealthy man because of it. Did he really withhold money from his son? She shook her head and glanced at Sharon. The other woman stood with her hands on her hips, frowning. “You’re the one who’s doing me a favor,” Sharon said, “so I’m not looking for money.”

Hannah surprised herself by saying, “I can give you a ride after I get off work. Maybe not every day, but we can work something out. We have to talk with your father first to make sure it’s all right with him.”

Now she was having second thoughts about how thrilled Adam would be over this new development. She looked at the drooping little pony and remembered the signs of life he’d shown when Matt touched him. She’d just have to convince the chef this was a good thing for his son too.

She glanced at her watch and sucked in her breath. “We have to go. The Zicafooses’ cows are waiting for us.” She turned to Matt. His hands were shoved into his jeans pockets and he was staring down at the toes of his faded, red sneakers. He looked as miserable as the pony. “Do you want to hang out with Satchmo a little longer?” she asked, thinking fast to come up with a reason to let him linger. “I need to go over some medications with Sharon in her office.”

“Nah, I’ll go wait in the truck,” he said, but she caught the longing glance he cast toward the pony.

The three of them left the paddock together and retrieved the veterinary cases from the stable. Matt veered off toward the parking lot while Hannah and Sharon walked toward the office to continue the pretense of needing to talk further. Sharon watched Matt disappear out of the barn before she said, “That boy has found his whisper horse.”

“His what?”

“Well, I guess it would be his whisper pony. The one he can tell all his troubles to,” Sharon said. “Everyone has a special horse—or pony—who will take on their burdens and help carry them. I reckon that boy has found his.”

Hannah eyed the tall woman walking beside her. “Isn’t Satchmo the one who needs help?”

“That was just his way of bringing the boy to him.”

Hannah bit her lip. She’d heard rumors about Sharon’s mystical theory regarding whisper horses but dismissed them in the face of the horsewoman’s achievements and down-to-earth common sense.

“I know you don’t believe anything I’m saying,” Sharon said with unabated cordiality, “but you ask Dr. Tim when he gets back. He was a skeptic too.”

“Tim has a whisper horse?” Hannah hoped she didn’t sound too dubious.

“His wife Claire does. Willow. When Claire came down here to Sanctuary, she was hurting from a real ugly divorce. Willow was one of my rescues, so she had some healing to do too. As soon as Claire and Willow laid eyes on each other, they felt that bond.” Sharon said it as though it was the most normal thing in the world. “Claire even brought her little niece down here to talk to her whisper horse. Truth is, if it hadn’t been for Willow, Claire and Tim might not be married today. She brought them together.”

Hannah was fascinated but unconvinced. “There’s no question Satchmo touched something in Matt,” she said. “He wouldn’t go near any of the other animals you have here.” Of course the pony was significantly smaller than the Thoroughbreds who made up the majority of Sharon’s stable residents. The reason didn’t matter. She was just glad to see Matt slough off the prickly façade he usually presented to the world.

“So how’d you end up with Matt as your shadow today?” Sharon said, continuing toward her office.

“His father asked me to give him an animal’s-eye view of the world. They’re having a little problem with Matt being careless about Adam’s dog.”

“Well, there’s no one better qualified to do that than you,” Sharon said. “I admit I was a little worried about a big-city vet joining a country practice, but Tim did a smart thing taking you on as a partner. You read horses as easily as a third-grade
textbook
.”

The compliment was especially gratifying because of Sharon’s expertise, and Hannah’s confidence needed the boost. After the blow her career took in Chicago, she wasn’t sure she’d ever practice veterinary medicine again. “I was lucky to get such a great position,” she said with sincerity. Her former partners had given her the most minimal of references, fearing possible legal repercussions. Sometimes their lack of support hurt her almost as much as Ward’s desertion.

“We’re pretty lucky with the city slickers who settle here,” Sharon said, stopping in front of her door. “You don’t really have any medications to go over with me, do you?”

“You saw through my ploy,” Hannah said, smiling.

“It was worth a try. The boy wanted to stay with Satchmo. I can’t figure out why he made himself leave.”

“Fear of loss?” Hannah suggested. “He’s heading it off at t
he pass.”

“Could be.” Sharon put her hand on the doorknob. “You’d better get over to Zicafoose’s. George is a cranky old codger.”

“I appreciate the warning,” Hannah said, taking off at a jog for the truck.