Ruth Logan - Healing The Cowboy's Heart

“I hope so,” said the boy.

He sounded worried. And when she shifted her gaze to him, his expression showed deep concern.

“She looks sad to be in here,” he explained. “All cooped up with scratches and things when all the pretty horses are out there.”

All the pretty horses. There it was again, from a child’s lips, a phrase from that beloved poem. “She can’t be near our horses right now, Liam.” Isaiah squatted to the boy’s level. “She’s sick and she might make them sick. That’s why we’ve got to keep her over here for now, okay?”

“Like when Grandma puts me in time-out?”

“No,” said Isaiah kindly. “This is more like being in the hospital. Separated so we can give her time to get well again.”

“If you’d behave yourself, you wouldn’t be put in time-out,” noted J.J., sounding so much like Char’s big sisters that Char had to add her piece.

“We all outgrow time-out, Liam.”

He lifted his brows, encouraged, and Char smiled at him. “It’s part of growing up. Do you help with the horses?”

Another look of disappointment darkened his face. “I want to but Grandma says I’m too quick and they’re quicker yet.”

“He helps with chickens over at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, up the road.”

“They smell,” Liam told her. “Like, really bad.”

“Especially during rainy times,” Char noted.

The boy wrinkled his nose and nodded as she administered the first dose of antibiotic. Then she offered Ginger a quick dose of dewormer.

“We had turkeys on our horse farm down south,” she explained. “It was a thing with my grandfather, to give turkeys as gifts in November. And in those long, hot and humid days of summer, tending the turkeys was not a whole lot of fun.”

Liam smiled when she flashed him a look of commiseration. “When is her baby due?” he asked. “Like soon?”

“Pretty soon. I can’t tell exactly, but I’d say sooner rather than later.” She finished the parasite application and tucked the empty vial back into her pocket. “We’ll do some measurements tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll skip camp and stay here to help,” J.J. declared.

Isaiah’s face stayed calm, but his voice pitched down. “Jodie June, I do believe we’ve discussed this.”

“You discussed it by telling me what to do, but you know this changes things, Uncle Isaiah,” the girl insisted. “She needs someone checking on her and caring for her. She’s got to be more important than equine camp, isn’t she?”

“Except the camp is paid for and you made a commitment. And we don’t take commitments lightly. But the horse does raise a significant problem these next few weeks.” Isaiah turned toward Char. “J.J.’s gone during the day and I’m knee-deep in work with hay and oats, on top of caring for our herds and dealing with scheduled visits of potential buyers. I can install a mare camera in here, but with her deterioration she shouldn’t be left without regular supervision. Would it be possible to hire your services for the next few weeks, between your other patients? Stop over here, supervise her care, make sure we’re not missing something vital because we’re busy?”

Char knew how easily that could happen during crunch time on a farm or ranch. “I’d be happy to.”

He didn’t smile, but he did look relieved. “Good. J.J., can you go check the pasture troughs for me?”

The girl gave a reluctant look to Ginger, but nodded as she moved toward the broad door. “Sure. I’ll make sure they’re clean, too.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

“Hey, Rising.” J.J. motioned to the big red dog. “Wanna come?”

The dog trotted after her, clearly at home. The slight swagger to his movements suggested his importance to the farm and this family. “Pretty dog.”

“That’s Rising,” Liam told her. “He was my dad’s dog.”

“Rising, huh?” She aimed a quizzical look at Liam. “How’d he get such a cool name?”

“Red Moon Rising,” said Isaiah. “My brother picked the puppy out of a litter up in McCall, and that night he saw a red moon rising so he used an old custom of integrating nature into the name.”

“But you don’t call him ‘Red,’ which would have been most people’s choice of a call name, wouldn’t it?”

“Probably. Andrew got the dog to round out our family, and he saw the dog and the horses and this growing farm as a new hope rising. So that’s why we started calling him ‘Rising’ and it stuck.”

It wasn’t just a good reason to nickname the dog. It was a great one.

Isaiah had turned back toward the boy. “And, Liam, how was summer school today?”

The boy’s face answered that clearly.

“That bad, huh?”

“I don’t know why I have to go to stupid summer school when almost everybody else in the whole world has vacation. I think Grandma just wants me out of the way.”

“Liam—”

“I think you know it, too,” the boy went on, “because little boys are too busy, too noisy and too pesky.”

“Are you?” asked Char.

“Am I what?”

“Too busy, noisy and pesky?”

He frowned. “Sometimes. I guess. I just don’t like being alone mostly.”

Oh, she understood that kind of a problem too well. “So the good side of summer school is not being alone. The bad side is that it’s school, right?”

“Half days. Then lunch. Then nothing but me stuck at Grandma’s. With the chickens.” He shoved his two little hands into his pocket and trudged off, the image of a lonely child.

“Ouch.”

Isaiah winced, watching him.

“So, Isaiah.” She was probably going to regret what she was about to do, and she went right ahead and did it, anyway.

“Yes?”

“Here’s the plan. You do whatever is needed first thing in the morning. Text me an update. Then I’ll come around late morning and hang out. What time does his bus bring him back?”

He followed her gaze toward Liam. “You mean Liam?”

“Yes.”

“No bus, we carpool with one of the other families whose kids take summer classes. He gets dropped off at eleven fifty, but he’ll be with my mother, up the road. And she’s not going to let him come down here and help you. Not at his age.”

“So, your mother is his guardian?”

That question got his full attention. “No. I am.”

“Then as his guardian, why not bring him over here for the afternoons?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Only if you make it complicated,” she supposed. She walked toward her van as she spoke. “A simple ‘yes’ could make it quite easy. He’d be company for me and out of Grandma’s hair.”

His face went tight. “My mother loves Liam.”

“Even though he’s busy, noisy and pesky.”

She knew she hit a nerve when his eyes narrowed.

“Just a thought,” she told Isaiah as she climbed in and started the van. “He’s obviously lonely and sad and wishes life was different. I thought a change of pace might be good for him.” She pulled away, but when she glanced into the rearview mirror, he was standing there. Not watching her. Not watching anything, really. Just standing there, looking as sad as the little red-haired boy now sitting quietly on the beautiful front porch.

* * *

So, she thought changing things up with his mother would be easy?

Dealing with his mother was never simple. Stella Woods was a stubborn personality, from tough Native American roots, and when it came to children, she drew a firm line. Especially with boys.

That realization cost him sleep that night.

She was tougher on Liam than J.J. He’d chalked that up to maturity, but the veterinarian’s words were a wake-up call.

Liam wasn’t a happy child. He didn’t act out. He didn’t pester others. He loved to ask questions, and Isaiah liked answering questions, so that worked out well. But there was clearly a problem with the boy’s current situation. Unhappy in school. Unhappy at his grandmother’s. Unhappy with summer.