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Fisher shook his head. “When I was a boy? No. My dad only put me on sure-footed, reliable horses.” He paused. “I can tell you this much, you treat a horse right, he’ll be your friend for life.”
Shawn regarded Red again. “Ever get stepped on?”
“Why do you think a cowboy wears boots?” Eli asked.
“We just bought me some.” Shawn mumbled. “Do all the horses stay here? Where’s yours, Fisher?”
“Waylon?” Fisher asked. “He’s out here. You’ve met him before, haven’t you?” He led the boys down the row of stalls and from the barn to one of the small corrals out back. Waylon must have seen the truck because the large buckskin was waiting at the fence. His ears cocked forward as he whinnied in greeting.
“Now, that’s a big horse,” Eli said.
“That he is,” Fisher agreed. Red barely reached fourteen hands. Waylon was a quarter horse–Belgian cross, heavily muscled and sixteen-plus hands tall. But he was agile and sweet tempered, and Waylon and Fisher understood each other. Fisher had taken one look at the horse and known the two of them would be a good team. He’d been right. Waylon followed him around like a dog, content to be in Fisher’s company. He and Chance hadn’t hit it off yet, but Fisher had high hopes the two would become fast friends and the three of them would enjoy riding the trails together.
“Did I tell you about Chance?” he asked, handing the apples to Shawn.
“What about him?” Shawn frowned. “Is he okay? Did he get sick?”
“He’s great. Got so energetic and busy I had to take him home so he didn’t get in the way,” Fisher said, chuckling. “I figured it’d be too crowded to bring him tonight, since he’s still learning his manners.”
Shawn smiled. “I bet he’ll love it out here. I know I would. All this room to run is good for him, isn’t it?”
“It is. He’s a handful, let me tell you,” Fisher said, stepping closer to Waylon. The horse head-butted him, blowing hard against his chest. “Chasing cows. He chased a raccoon up a tree, and I had to drag him inside to get him to stop barking.”
“So his leg isn’t bothering him?” Shawn asked, smiling.
“It’s not slowing him down,” Fisher promised.
“I’m glad.” Shawn looked at him. “I appreciate you fixing him up, Dr. Fisher. And tonight, too. It’s the first night we’ve gone out since we moved here. Anyway, most of the time Kylee’s working.”
Fisher nodded. Maybe he could get Kylee’s permission to bring Shawn riding a few nights this week. It would be better if the boy wasn’t so uneasy on the first day of camp. “Bet he smells the apples.” Eli laughed as Waylon gave him a gentle nudge.
Fisher scratched Waylon’s forelock and patted his neck reassuringly. “You think so?” He glanced at the boys.
Shawn grinned as the horse nudged him again. “I think he does.”
“Go ahead.” Fisher paused. “The trick is to keep your hand flat. Waylon doesn’t want fingers, just apples.”
It took a few minutes for Shawn to get up the nerve to put his hand out. Fisher stayed close by, stroking the horse’s neck and talking in a low, soothing voice. He knew Waylon liked that, and maybe it would ease Shawn, too. The last thing he wanted was for Shawn to have a bad experience with a horse.
Shawn smiled from ear to ear when Waylon crunched the apple from his hand.
“There they are,” Renata said, leading Josie and Kylee toward them. “Always showing off Waylon, the big man on the ranch.”
“Look at him. He’s a damn fine horse. You can’t deny it. Can they, Waylon?” Fisher asked as Waylon snuffled his neck and head.
Kylee’s laugh reached him through the others. All night he’d tried not to react to her voice, her smile and the occasional laugh. He tried not to give his brothers teasing ammunition or do anything to make Cutter or his father suspect he was sweet on Kylee. At one point, Florence had announced that she wouldn’t forgive him for not inviting her to their wedding.
While he’d tried not to choke on his mouthful of beans, Annabeth assured her grandmother that the invitations had yet to go out. Poor Flo’s dementia came and went, making conversation somewhat challenging. But Kylee’s reaction to Flo’s bewildered expression had touch him deeply. She’d smiled kindly, taken Flo’s hand in hers and offered to refill her drink.
Kylee hadn’t said much during dinner. She was polite and helpful—clearing the table and helping out with Flo and the boys without being asked. He couldn’t know for certain, but she’d seemed to enjoy herself. He hoped so. His family was big and loud, but they were good people.
Waylon rumbled low in his chest and leaned against the fence. Fisher smiled, stepping close enough for Waylon to rest his chin on the back of Fisher’s shoulder. Waylon was a hugger. It tickled Fisher that something as big as Waylon could be so loving and affectionate. Fisher patted the side of Waylon’s neck. When Waylon lifted his head, Fisher caught sight of Kylee’s reaction. Was it his imagination or did she look like she was going to cry?
“Did you wash your hair in cologne?” Renata asked.
“He loves me,” Fisher shot back, watching Kylee. But she was focused on Waylon, mystified. He’d grown up around animals, he knew how capable of affection they were. But maybe she didn’t.
“You are pretty easy to love,” Josie teased. “Even if you are freakishly big.”
