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Grayson looked at Tally. Beth. Tally.
He held back the groan that swelled inside his lungs. Beth was the last person he’d have help him with the buckskin.
He closed his eyes. Swallowed. “In the barn, outside the tack room, is a metal can. Inside is a bag of horse treats. Grab a handful.” Maybe with a little bribery, Tally would cooperate.
Beth nodded and ran for the barn.
He carried the halter through the paddock, zigzagging his way closer to Tally and hoping not to disrupt her.
Footsteps brushed through the field. Beth jogged back and took a wide loop through the tall grass, meeting him on his final approach to the horse. She held the long hem of her T-shirt up in a sling with a mountain of horse treats piled inside.
“I said a handful, not a stockpile.”
“I can take them back.” She raised a brow and slapped two horse cookies into his open hand.
“It’s fine. Thank you.” He offered one of the treats to Tally with an outstretched arm and stepped toward her. “Hey there.”
The horse backed away with a stumble and a grunt.
Beth let out a little sound, like a cry of distress. “You have to catch her. She’s going to make it worse.” A line creased her brow, and she worried her lower lip between her teeth.
Unfortunately, he was the last person Tally wanted to pal around with.
He’d need Beth’s help. There was no getting around it.
Tally stretched her nose toward Beth, who smelled like a five-foot equine goody bag with the cache she was hauling in her shirt.
“Her name is Tally,” Grayson said. “I’m not her favorite person right now.”
“Oh, girl.” Beth smirked and turned to the horse. “I get it. This guy?” She nodded toward Grayson. The mare’s ears swiveled. “He’s trouble.”
“Really?” Grayson shook his head. “You’re going to do that now?”
“I’m finding common ground with her. That’s Camp Counseling 101. Relating to someone in distress.” She reached out her hand to the horse.
Tally took a hobble toward Beth, who let out a little moan with each step the horse took.
The sound unwound every scrap of good sense he had in him.
“Can you put on the halter? Are you comfortable with that?”
She nodded. “Like I said, I still like them. I just don’t ride them.” She snugged her shirt fabric tight and drew it into a knot around the treats, freeing her hands.
Grayson walked around behind her and handed off one of the halters. It wasn’t Tally’s, but it would fit.
Taking two tentative steps forward, Beth carried a treat in one hand and the halter in another. Tally leaned in and lipped the treat from her palm. Beth placed a hand on the horse’s neck, testing out her behavior.
Okay, she wasn’t green at this. She still remembered.
Another treat, then she slid the halter over Tally’s nose, buckled it. Fed her another treat.
“Don’t give her colic.”
Beth cut him a look.
He held up his hands. “Easy.” He approached the horse’s hind leg. The gaping slice didn’t have much blood, but the clean edges had curled back from the front of her hock joint. “You got her?” he asked.
Beth nodded.
