Rocky Mountain Miracle

She kept her hands firmly against the horse, forcing herself to see what the animal was willing to share. Something stinging his rump. The shadow of a big man in the snow, raising his arm and slamming it down with purpose. Repeated lashings across the hind legs and rump until the horse ran without thought into the fence in a desperate effort to escape the terrible blows. Too big to be Al or Jase. Wide enough shoulders to be Cole, but the horse displayed no nervousness near him.

“Maia.” Cole gripped her hard. “You’re as white as a sheet. She was sweating too, and her gaze was filled with a kind of horror. It had nothing to do with the gaping wounds or the blood. He knew it was something else, something entirely different.

Maia shook her head, letting go of the horse’s neck and stepping back. “I’m all right.” She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at Jase. Who had done such things to the boy? Who had kicked him? Broken bones? Killed pets in front of him? He’s fourteen, and he hated the old man. She remembered the icy cold of Cole’s voice when he’d made the statement. But Brett Steele was dead. Who had cruelly tormented the horse until it had rushed headlong into a strong fence, nearly killing itself?

Maia forced herself to appear normal. “I’m not the best traveler.” She used her stethoscope to check the horse’s heart, lungs, and bowel sounds, which gave her some time to compose herself before she faced the Steele brothers.

“If you don’t need me, Mr. Steele,” Al said, “I’ll be head- ing back to the house before it gets so bad I can’t make it. My wife’s called a hundred times already worried.”

“Yes, by all means, Al,” Cole’s gaze was on Maia’s pale face. He didn’t take his hand from her back. He could feel the small tremors running through her body. “Be careful. This storm looks bad. I take it all the animals are bedded down in sheltered areas?” His tone implied they’d better be.

“Yes, sir. It was all taken care of before I let the hands go home.” Al turned back. “I know this isn’t the best time, but Fred, my wife’s brother, came by again looking to get his job back. He’s a good hand, Mr. Steele. He’s got a couple of kids. It’s not like there’s a lot of work this time of year.”

Jase whipped his head around, his face still and white. The horse suddenly moved, reacting to the boy’s sudden tension. The movement flooded the animal with pain, but the bay rubbed its head against Jase in an attempt to comfort him. The gesture immediately brought the teenager’s attention back to the animal.

Cole’s fingers, on Maia’s back, pressed deeper into her skin. There was heat there, a touch of anger. “I told you no, Al. No one who worked for Brett Steele will ever work for me or for Jase. I know he visits you, but I don’t even like the man to set foot on this property. I’ve looked the other way because I know family’s important to you and your wife, but I don’t want to see him and I don’t want him to go anywhere on the ranch other than to your home. Is that understood?” His voice was ice-cold and carried a whip.

“Yes, sir.”

“And I don’t want you to bring this matter up again.” It was a distinct threat. Even Maia recognized it as such. She glanced at Jase, who was stroking the Bay’s neck. She touched Cole’s wrist. Gently. Reminding him he wasn’t alone. Lines etched his face, and he looked quite capable of anything. Even murder. If she could see the buried rage rising up to swirl so close to the surface, so could Jase.

Cole let his breath out slowly, trying to relieve the anger boiling up in him. Al kept hammering away at getting his brother-in-law a job, but one look at Jase’s pale face told him the man had been present during one or more beatings. He felt like smashing something, preferably Al’s face for bringing up the subject yet again and putting that look back on the boy’s face.

“Yes, Mr. Steele,” Al said and turned and walked away.

Cole looked at Maia. “You ready to do this?” What he wanted to do was thank her, but the words stuck in his throat. Jase looked as if he couldn’t take much more.

“Al wanted to put him down,” Jase said. “He kept telling me it was best. I knew the horse was suffering, Cole, but I couldn’t let him go.”

“I told you to hang on,” Cole said. “Let’s see what the Doc has to say.”

Maia took the horse’s head in her hands a second time and looked into his eyes, acknowledging pain and memories, giving brief reassurance. She didn’t care if the Steele brothers thought she was a nutcase, the horse deserved some comfort before she went to work. When she was certain the animal understood what she was going to do, she began her inspection, her face carefully blank as she evaluated the damage. “Left hock has a three-inch laceration with bone exposed. Right hock, most wounds are superficial abrasions. We have a left front dorsal forearm laceration through the muscle down to the bone, approximately five inches long. We have major splintering from the fence around the laceration, one piece fairly large.” It looked like a stake to her, but she was very matter-of-fact, aware of Jase watching her every expression. She put her hand on his shoulder. “We can deal with this if you’re willing to help out. First I need to give him painkillers and start him on antibiotics, then we’ll get to work.”