Bear Vet by Zoe Chant

Chapter Eleven

“The horses are here!”Raelynn sang out. “Sixteen pretty, pretty little horsies! And two donkeys! And a mule!”

Judy, overseeing the trailers pull up to the ranch that was now the new home of Horse Hope Rescue, said over her shoulder, “Don’t let Curstaidh hear you call her a pretty little horsie. She’ll bite you.”

Beside her, his burly form a comforting warmth, Waylon said, “I’ve come prepared for Curstaidh.” He brandished a pair of heavy leather gloves fit for the Viking warrior that he resembled.

“Good idea,” said Judy.

“Black Flame will be so happy,” said Raelynn. “He’s watching from the forest.”

Judy couldn’t see hide nor hair of him, but she was sure Raelynn was right. Her bond with the hellcolt was like that. She didn’t have to see him to know.

Soon Judy had her hands full unloading her horses. Waylon was right beside her, calming them and leading them into their stalls. She’d already seen his skill with horses, as they’d both been working with Black Flame and she’d sometimes accompanied him when he treated horses around La Puerta, but it felt different to see him work with her horses.

It’s a special kind of intimacy, she thought, even as she patted and gentled the horses. So many different kinds of love in one place, all connected like a web. Man and woman, parent and child, human and animal, all working together to make sure everyone feels loved and safe in their new home.

And yet for all that love, there was something about it that felt fragile and unfinished. Waylon still hadn’t told her his secret. She trusted him that it was nothing terrible, but it nagged at her. Until she knew, she couldn’t completely trust her newfound happiness. Especially since it was Raelynn’s secret, too. If Raelynn didn’t trust her enough to tell her something that was clearly so important, what did that say about Judy’s fitness as a not-quite-mom? Would that secret, whatever the hell it was, become the crack that widened and widened until it broke their family apart?

“She’s beautiful,” said Waylon, startling her out of her reverie. They were alone in a stall with Katrina, the alpha mare of the herd. A ray of afternoon sunlight came through a window and turned her black on white spotted coat to black on gold. “And so are you.”

He bent to kiss her, and her apprehensions dissolved in the passion and sweetness of his kiss. She clung to him, melting into the heat of his mouth and the strength of his arms around her. In that moment, she had absolute faith that together, they would conquer all obstacles. She didn’t know how, but the press of his body against hers told her that somehow, they would be the lovers and family that they were meant to be.

“I love you,” he said. His voice was husky and quiet in the golden-lit stable. “I’ve loved you ever since I first met you. I didn’t want to scare you off by saying it too soon.”

“I love you too,” she replied. “And I don’t scare easily.”

“I know.” Waylon’s smile was brighter than the sunlight. “That’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

“Ma’am!” The shout came from outside the stable. “We’re having some trouble with the Shetland pony!”

“I’ll be right there!” Judy called back.

Waylon accompanied her outside. Judy was utterly unsurprised to see the people who had delivered the herd in trailers standing around looking frustrated. Raelynn was talking in her best horse-coaxing voice, but Curstaidh was not coming out.

“I can fetch Katrina,” Judy said. “Curstaidh will follow her when she won’t obey anyone else.”

“Let me try first.” Waylon put on his leather gloves and stepped into the trailer. Judy and Raelynn followed him.

The shaggy chestnut pony stood obstinately in the back of the trailer, her flaxen mane completely covering her eyes. Waylon approached, speaking soothingly.

“Careful,” Judy said. “She likes to—”

Curstaidh spun around and lashed out with her hind leg, kicking surprisingly high for such a small pony. Her hoof connected with Waylon’s groin with a crack like a branch breaking.

Waylon let out a grunt and staggered backward. “Right in the nards!”

“Did she break something?” Judy asked anxiously, even though she knew the question made no sense. What was there to break in that area?

“Yes,” said Waylon, straightening up. “My cup. Cracked it right in half. Thank God I wore one. Talk about Shitland ponies!”

Raelynn burst into giggles. “Language, Dad!”

“I’ll get Katrina,” said Judy.

Curstaidh followed Katrina out of the trailer with complete docility, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. As she passed Waylon, the little pony blew her mane out of her eyes and gave him a distinctly smug glance.

The ornery Shetland was the last of the herd to be unloaded. Once she was settled in her stall, the trailers departed and Waylon, Judy, and Raelynn were left alone.

They waited a while to give the horses a chance to get used to their stalls and for Black Flame to be sure the strangers and their big, noisy trailers were gone. Then Raelynn declaimed, “Release the herd!”

“Let’s do it. If it doesn’t work out today, we’ll try again tomorrow.” But Judy hoped it would work the first time. They’d gotten so close with Black Flame already, this just might be the last thing that was needed.

They went into the stable and began leading the horses into the corral. Katrina went first, led by Judy, with Raelynn leading the gentle Carry On and Waylon taking the hot-tempered bay mare Beauty Queen. Tucker and Midnight, the elderly geldings, were followed by the donkeys Little Bit and Buddy. Then the Molly the mule, and Dakota and Bay Rum and Valentine and Bonnie and Pioneer and the rest. Finally Judy took firm hold of Curstaidh and led her out into the corral, neatly ducking the Shetland’s attempt to eat her hair.

In the corral, Katrina was still sniffing around in an alpha mare’s safety check. Finally she bent to nip up a choice tuft of clover. Following her lead, the others began to graze.

“Go for it, Rae,” said Waylon.

Raelynn gave a whistle. “Black Flame! Come along, Black Flame! Your new friends are here!”

Black Flame emerged from the trees. He stopped and sniffed the air, his bright eyes intent on the herd in the corral.

“Reassure him,” Judy said softly. “Coax him closer.”

Raelynn coaxed Black Flame with her voice and a handful of coals as bribes, until the hellcolt was near the corral. He stood wary, ready to bolt, sparks dancing in his mane.

“Katrina,” Judy called softly. “Come and meet the new colt.”

This was the make or break moment. Katrina had been watching Black Flame with curiosity in her wise old eyes. She could accept him or reject him, and the herd would follow her lead.

Katrina gave a whicker, an inviting sound. Judy relaxed. Now it was up to Black Flame.

Moving slowly, she opened the corral gate.

“Go on in, Rae,” said Waylon.

Raelynn stepped inside. Standing near Katrina, she held out the coals in her open palm. Katrina lipped at a coal, then gave a disgusted snort and returned to grazing.

“Come on, Black Flame,” Raelynn coaxed. “Delicious coals and new friends, what more can a hellhorse want?”

Stepping delicately, sparks and the occasional brief flame flickering around him, Black Flame entered the corral.

One by one, he ate the coals from Raelynn’s palm. Katrina sniffed at him, then gave a snort like she had at the coal. Black Flame’s ears swiveled, but the sparks died. Despite being surrounded by sixteen horses, two donkeys, and a mule, he seemed calmer than usual.

“Hellhorses have herd instincts,” Waylon murmured. “And the herd doesn’t have to be other hellhorses.”

“I’d wondered about that too,” Judy admitted, keeping her voice pitched low as well. “I was crossing my fingers that it would work. I thought it would, but I didn’t know.”

Raelynn stayed in the corral until Black Flame wandered away from her and began to graze. When he and Curstaidh went for the same patch of lush green grass, the ornery Shetland nipped him. Black Flame stamped a hoof, and flames rippled along his mane.

“Uh-oh,” murmured Waylon, reaching for the fire extinguisher. They’d watered the corral thoroughly so the grass grew green and the earth was moist. A few sparks or a lick of flame wouldn’t start a fire there, but a blast of flame might.

“Wait,” said Judy.

Black Flame bent again for the patch of grass, his mane and tail and fetlocks burning yellow against his black coat. Curstaidh jerked her head upward, smacking him right under the jaw. His teeth knocked together with an audible clack. Black Flame leaped away with a squeal. He stood glaring at her, literally sparking and smoking with anger.

Curstaidh ignored him, ripping up the grass in smug little yanks. Black Flame’s fires died. He trotted away to the opposite end of the corral and began to graze.

“Wise of him,” Waylon remarked.

“She’s horrible, but I love her,” said Judy.

When they were sure there would be no more horse drama, Waylon went to his truck and fetched a bottle of sparkling cider and three plastic glasses with stems. Raelynn came out to take one, her face glowing with happiness. When their glasses were filled, they lifted them in a toast.

“To sixteen horses, two donkeys, a mule, and a hellhorse,” said Raelynn. “And their new home.”

“To the girl who dared to tame the hellhorse,” said Judy. “And the man who dared to face the Shi—Shetland.”

“Never again,” muttered Waylon as Raelynn giggled, then raised his glass high. “To us. To family.”

They clicked their glasses together and drank. Judy’s heart was overflowing with happiness. She was in love with a brave, sexy, funny man who loved her back and had the best daughter in the whole wide world, her horses were safe, and Black Flame had joined the herd.

It isn’t too good to be true, she told the part of herself that still didn’t believe she could be a part of a family. It isn’t!

At the end of the day, they dropped Raelynn off at a friend’s house for a sleepover, and had dinner at Waylon’s house. He grilled steaks and she made a salad, and they talked about horses and music and hopes and dreams.

As the sun set, their conversation got slower, more and more punctuated by long pauses in which they just looked into each other’s eyes. The events of the day slipped from her mind, replaced by a purely sensual awareness. Waylon’s eyes were darker in the fading light, a deep ocean blue rather than the summer sky blue they were in daylight. His hair and beard glowed in the last rays of the sun like molten gold. And all his attention was on her. Without him saying a word, she knew that he was watching her the way she was watching him, glorying in her beauty and her presence.

Judy had never before felt so utterly in tune with another human being, and she longed to do more than just sit and talk, or even just sit and kiss. She wanted him to take her hand and lead her away to some magical realm where they could leave all their cares and responsibilities behind them. Or just to his bedroom. His bedroom would be fine.

“Waylon,” she said. Her voice startled her; they’d been sitting in silence for longer than she realized. “You wanted to take it slow. Has this been slow enough? Are you ready now?”

She watched him take a breath, that massive chest moving. When he spoke, the intensity of longing and desire in his voice took her own breath away. “I want you, Judy. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life. And I want you now.”

They did go to his bedroom, but he didn’t take her hand and lead her away. He picked her up and carried her over the threshold, like a bride.