Page 97 of One Wild Chance

“Easy, boy,” I murmur as I approach, not wanting to scare him further and risk doing more damage. Even if the injury is minor, it will make buyers hesitate at Keeneland, and a major injury could mean a sizable loss.

I call the vet on my cell, only to find out Dr. Holcomb is already at another farm thirty minutes away. I don’t have Mollie’s number, but it’s doubtful she could make it here from Lexington any faster. And Earl’s age makes him a liability out here in the dark.

It’s common knowledge on a farm that you should never yank an injured leg from a fence, since forcing the movement might only make it worse. But leaving a colt in pain isn’t an option either.

I call Jaxon’s number instead, even though I know he’s probably still in his meeting. He picks up right away.

“Jaxon, I hope I’m not interrupting,” I begin, trying not to let the worry show in my voice. “But there was no one else to call.”

“I just finished,” Jaxon says. “What’s up?”

“There’s a problem. A colt is caught in the fence in the south yearling pasture. I called the vet but he’s thirty minutes out.”

He pauses. “Is he standing?”

“Yes, but I can’t get his leg free by myself.”

“I’m on my way.”

I keep my hand on the colt until I hear the Kubota approaching. Jaxon shows up with a pry bar and flashlight, and crouches next to the colt. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am—how much we’ll lose at Keeneland if this yearling is hurt. But we can’t dwell on that now. We won’t know how bad the injury is until the vet shows up.

“First thing is to get this horse free.” Jaxon drags a hand over his stubble. “You keep him calm and still while I remove the board.”

I nod, stroking the colt’s neck as Jaxon pries one end of the board free. When he finally removes it, the colt steps backward and immediately lowers his head to sniff at the injured leg. He takes a cautious step. He’s moving carefully, but it’s hard to tell whether he’s sore or simply shaken up.

Jaxon crouches beside him, running a hand down his leg. “The scrape looks ugly, but I don’t see anything obvious.” He looks up at me. “Do you think he can make it back to the barn?”

“Maybe?” I say. “We’ll need to take it slow.”

We leave the Kubota as Jaxon walks the colt back, and I follow behind on Sally.

The colt seems to walk well, which gives me a sliver of hope, but only the vet can tell us for sure. I ride back with a lead weight in my stomach, feeling weak from not eating all day, and worried about the yearling. When we finally get back, Dr. Holcomb is pulling up, along with Earl.

“I called Earl on the way over,” Jaxon says. “He insisted on coming out.”

As soon as the colt is in the vet’s care, I take care of Sally, then join Jaxon waiting outside the barn. The night finally feels like fall has arrived, with a crispness to the air, but it does little to help my head. I slump against the barn, tipping my head back against the wall.

“You okay?” Jaxon asks, studying me.

“Just a little lightheaded, that’s all.” I close my eyes, but the feeling doesn’t go away.

“You sure? You don’t look well.”

“I’m a little…off.” The pressure in my ears builds, like I’ve been swimming underwater. “Just need to eat.”

“When did you last have any food?”

My head lolls to the side to look at him. “Breakfast. And don’t give me any lectures, either.” I manage a weak smile. “I sold out at the market. First time ever.”

“I’m proud of you,” he says. “That’s still no excuse not to take care of yourself.”

“Don’t worry about me, Jaxon. I’ve survived this long on my own.”

His brow creases. “I’m always worried about you, Wildflower.”

He takes my arm, and even in my current state, running on nothing, his touch sends a current through me.

“Can you walk to the house?” he asks.