Maris Soule - Paternity Lessons

“Magic wouldn’t hurt me,” Lanie said, but Shaunna knew the girl wasn’t convinced that was true. She also knew, if Lanie loved her horse, she would do the right thing.

Without answering, Lanie turned around and started walking toward the barn. Shaunna looked at Tyler, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was afraid she’d be like this. She’s so angry about everything.”

“She’s a lot like her horse, then.” Shaunna nodded in Lanie’s direction. “I think we’d better follow her in.”

“Definitely.” Tyler wanted to see the horse again, and he wasn’t sure he trusted Lanie to stay out of the stall.

“I hope you don’t mind my bringing him here without letting you know,” Shaunna said as they walked toward the barn. “I just couldn’t leave him there.”

“It’s hard to believe you got him here.” Tyler had been worried about how they would accomplish that feat. “Last time I saw him, he was ready to eat every human alive.”

“It wasn’t easy, but we made it.”

“Two days ago, you said you didn’t have a place for him.”

She shrugged. “I moved one of my horses. He’ll be fine for a while.”

At the entrance to the barn, Shaunna stopped and so did he. From where Tyler stood, he could see Lanie. The girl had already reached the last stall, and to his relief, she was standing on a box outside the stall, looking in.

“This won’t work unless she cooperates, you know,” Shaunna said, her voice slightly lowered so it wouldn’t carry down to Lanie. “If he’s going to be her horse, he’s got to learn to trust her again. He doesn’t know what happened, doesn’t know about the accident or that Lanie was hurt. He only knows that he was moved from a place where there was kindness and good care to a hellhole. I’m sure it was traumatic for him to be taken from the wild. Now he’s bad two experiences where he’s been taken from someplace where he was happy. He’s learning to distrust all humans, and regaining his trust isn’t going to happen overnight. Lanie’s got to realize that.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Tyler said although he wasn’t sure that would help.

They proceeded down the wide concrete aisle. They were flanked by horse stalls and the smell of horses, along with the smell of fly spray, fresh horse droppings and leather. The only light in the barn came from what filtered in from the open doors at each end and the windows in each stall. He could see fans installed along the ceiling and fluorescent light fixtures, but none of them were on at the moment.

As they neared the last stall, they could hear Lanie talking. “Oh, Magic, what have they done to you?” she kept repeating, and Tyler felt her words stab at his heart.

She was right He was the one responsible. He’d put the horse in that stable.

He felt Shaunna’s hand on his arm, a light and reassuring touch. “You didn’t know,” she said softly, and he glanced her way.

She was nearly his height, her dark hair pulled back and braided in a single loose braid that hung down to her shoulder blades. Again there was a feather woven into the braid, this time only one, and in the dim light of the barn, her skin tones looked darker.

He’d thought of her often since leaving her. Not that he’d wanted to think about her. Somehow her image just kept popping into his head—memories of how she’d looked, the sound of her voice and the warmth of her smile. Images that had excited him, just as now the touch of her hand and husky sound of her voice had his pulse racing.

“Look at him! He’s not any better off here. This place is no better than the other one,” Lanie said accusingly, and Tyler’s attention returned to his daughter.

“Things may look the same,” Shaunna said, her voice calm and soothing as she walked over to stand beside Lanie. “But he’s better off here. It’s going to take time.”

Tyler also moved closer so he could look into the stall. What he saw made him ill.

The horse was standing against the back wall, eyeing them with a wild look. Tyler could see the horse’s ribs, their sharp delineation a reminder of the other stable owner’s solution for handling ill-tempered horses. What had probably once been a beautiful mahogany coat was now a rough, scruffy, dull red brown, hair missing in some places and in other places so matted with dung they formed hardened clumps. The freeze brand on his neck—his identification as a wild horse—was barely discernible beneath the filth, and his black mane and tail were a twisted, knotted mess. Dirt had turned the white star on his forehead and the white sock on his foreleg a dusty brown, and even at a distance, the smell of him was vile.

The only bit of white that Tyler could see was in the horse’s eyes. And it wasn’t a good sign.

“All we did yesterday was transport him here and get him settled in the stall,” Shaunna said, speaking more to Lanie than to him. “I want him to get used to the smells and sounds around here today, then tomorrow we’ll open the door so he can go out.” She pointed toward the left side of his stall where the outline of a solid door could be seen. “All of my stalls have direct access to an attached paddock. I felt this stall would be best for your horse since it was built for a stallion. It should hold him.”

“He’s a gelding,” Lanie snapped, looking at Shaunna as if she were stupid.

“I know he’s a gelding. He’s also a Mustang, and Mustangs, especially those that were born in the wild, are a lot more wily than horses bred in captivity. Until he decides we aren’t the enemy, we’re going to need something strong to hold him. Otherwise, you’re going to be looking all over Bakersfield for your horse.”

“He never tried to get out at our place,” Lanie said defiantly.

Shaunna didn’t lose her composure. “That was then, this is now. At that other stable, he discovered that he could get out. That’s why they were keeping him in a stall all the time. We’ve got to show him that he can’t get out.”

“I want to touch him, pet him,” Lanie said, and stuck her arm through the bars on the stall. “Come here, Magic,” she called.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Shaunna warned.

Lanie glared at her. “He’s my horse.” Using the flat of her hand, she slapped it against the inside of the stall wall to get the horse’s attention. “Magic, come.”

The Mustang came.

With a lunge, he sprang toward Lanie, his teeth bared and his ears laid back. The horse’s squeal of anger sent a chill down Tyler’s spine, and he automatically grabbed Lanie, pulling her off the box and out of danger. The two of them landed on the concrete floor of the aisle, Lanie on top of him. The breath was knocked out of Tyler, but not out of Lanie.

“You ruined him!” she yelled, scrambling to her feet. “Everything’s ruined!”

She looked down at Tyler, hatred in her eyes, then turned and ran back down the aisle and out of the barn toward the parking area. Shaunna watched Tyler push himself up from the floor and brush off his khaki slacks. She saw the dirt on the back of his slacks but said nothing. She wanted to know what his reaction was going to be and kept her eyes on his face.

He sighed, shaking his head as he watched his daughter leave the barn. Then he looked at Shaunna. “Well, so much for the horse helping the two of us establish a relationship. I think, if anything, he’s driving a bigger wedge between us.” Then he added bitterly, “If there could be a bigger wedge.”

“She’s very angry,” Shaunna said, knowing that was an understatement.

“Tell me about it. She acts as if it’s my fault that her mother and stepfather are dead. I don’t know what to do. Her doctor says she just needs time, but that’s what I’ve been hearing for almost six months, and things haven’t been getting any better.” Again, he sighed. “I’d better go after her.”