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“You sound a little skeptical there, Ro-Ro,” Tommy said, giving him a half grin.
“Not at all.” Roe sniffed. “I just prefer petting rabbits.”
“Is Arthur your favorite child?”
Roe fluttered his lashes, “I love all my children equally. Is Arthur the easiest to deal with? Yes. Yes, he is.”
Tommy shook his head and went out the door.
The drive out of Hobson Hills was almost too picture perfect. They passed a cute country store called Farm Fresh and several fields of corn and hay. He thought he recognized Gramps on a tractor, but couldn’t be sure.
The horse ranch was just as picturesque as everything else. There were two large barns surrounded by fenced fields. A short distance away, an old mill with a water wheel sat prettily in the middle of a large creek.
He spied a few people coming and going from the barn, one of which was Min’s father, Dean. Most were clearly employees, but he noticed several that seemed out of place. A young, timid woman riding a palomino. Two men, stiff and unsure, brushing another horse down.
Then his attention was caught by a brown horse out in the field. He was rolling around in a dust patch, legs in the air.
Roe pressed his face to the window and laughed. “Look at that weirdo.”
Tommy looked a little more excited at the sight. “Huh, does he know he’s a horse and not a dog?”
They parked and met the therapist, Diane, in front of the largest barn. A young man stood beside her, smiling a familiar, gap-toothed smile.
“I spy a Wilson,” Roe sing-songed.
Diane snorted. “Yes. This is Noah Wilson. He owns the ranch and will help introduce Beth and Tommy to the horses. He’s deaf, but an excellent lip-reader. Please face him when you speak. I can sign to translate as well.”
“Hello, Noah,” Roe signed. He’d learned ASL when he was in college. He wasn’t fluent, but he could get by if he needed to. It was nice to stretch his fingers.
Noah’s smile widened. “Hi. Are you Sheriff McKenzie’s hot younger man? Abel’s told everyone about you.”
Roe groaned. “Seriously?”
Diane rolled her eyes. “Come on, kids. Let’s talk a little bit, then Noah can introduce you to the PB&J club.”
“Another club?” Roe asked and signed. “How many can one town have?”
Noah snorted a laugh. “They’re my miniature horses. Peanut, Butter, and Jelly.”
“Nice,” Beth said, eyes widening with excitement.
Diane led the kids away, and Roe stuck his hands into the pockets of his shorts, feeling a little out of place. Wally leaned back against the car, eyes roaming.
Noah nodded toward the field with the rolling horse. “Do you want to meet Stinkbug?”
“Yes, please,” Roe signed and followed him. The ranch had a peaceful air about it. Flowerbeds lined the barns and large chestnut trees shaded the walk ways.
“How many people come here for therapy?” he asked and signed.
“We get new patients often, but most only come a few months before they’re able to move on to other modes of therapy. That said, we have sixteen regulars who have been coming each week for the past two years.”
“Wow.” Roe leaned against the fence and watched Stinkbug run to them. “I thought it was a temporary type of therapy.”
Noah held his hand out and the horse nuzzled his palm, searching for a treat. “It’s a lot more helpful than most people think. Horses have a way of connecting with people so they don’t feel so alone in whatever they’re dealing with. I think spending time with my uncle’s horses saved my mental health.” He gestured to his head. “After I lost my hearing. I had a lot of family trouble to work through too.”
Roe leaned closer and stroked Stinkbug’s neck.
“Here, why don’t you give him a brush?” Noah asked, hopping over the fence. “There’s a set of brushes over by the water trough.”
