Page 64 of Heartstrings & Horseshoes

The gelding’s tossing his head and clapping his hooves against the packed dirt. I’ve learned enough to be confident interacting with Biscuit, but this kid hasn’t, and he looks nervous.

“He’s agitated…I’m so sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” I say to the boy, embarrassed needing to ask.

“Jake.”

“Okay Jake, thank you for volunteering.” I wink at him, and get an eye roll in return, his crossed arms tightening around himself.

“What do I have to do?” he mumbles, uncomfortable standing before his peers.

“Breathe. Inhale slowly, exhale softly. Drop your arms and relax your shoulders. Don’t think too hard about it, just relax your body,” I instruct.

Jake is just as agitated as Biscuit, but with all eyes on him, he reluctantly follows my direction. I do the exercise with him and Tanya quietly guides the other kids to do the same.

The crunching of Biscuit’s hooves slow and his heavy breaths stop, leaving the pen quiet.

“Did I do that?” Jake asks out the side of his mouth.

“You did. You told him you weren’t agitated anymore.”

“But I didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly. He heard you without you saying a word.” I smile at Jake and sneak a peek at Tanya who gives me two enthusiastic thumbs up.

The session passes in the blink of an eye, and I’m filled with joy witnessing the beauty of these kids communicating with Biscuit with their spirits.

Watching Tanya load Biscuit into his trailer and pulling away from Lucky Spurs Ranch, it sinks into my bones what it’d be like to create a space people could be safe, seen, and heard.

And maybe even become whole again.

My post-success glow doesn’t last long. When I show up to the stables the next morning, I walk in to my worst nightmare come to life.

Mom’s drunk off her ass, or strung out, pacing like a caged animal along one end of the stables. I entered from the opposite side, behind the cavalry that already arrived.

Reid’s holding Izzy back from our mom, trying to deescalate the situation.

James is talking to my mom trying to figure out why she’s here.

Greyson’s standing between James and Reid, who now has Izzy’s arms pinned to her sides, despite her furious thrashing.

“What’s going on?” I try not to stammer.

All heads whip around to me slowly walking into the chaos. Everyone talks at once and the onslaught has me backing towards the door.

“ENOUGH!” Greyson barks—bringing the stables to an abrupt silence.

Izzy calms enough for Reid to let her go and she comes to stand beside me, hand in hand.

“She showed up some time overnight. Reid found her sleeping in one of the empty stalls when he came out for morning chores,” she sneers.

“We’ve been trying to get her to tell us why she’s here and what she wants but she’s been incoherent and combative,” Reid adds.

“Think her ride left her here. I got the impression they were here to steal shit to sell.”

Panic grips me deep in my chest, so I do what I always do when I need help.

Me: Emergency! Mom’s at the ranch

Studmuffin: What the fuck?