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“How long is she staying?”
“Until we can find a new home for her,” Dani says. “I’ve been calling Winnie and Grace every day for advice, but I know nothing about taking care of horses, and this one is so unstable. She seems to be improving, but she’s weak and prone to illness and infection.” She shakes her head, looking truly worried. “And she hates being penned up. I feel like it’s a fight to keep her healthy.”
“She’s got an attitude, and she’s probably frustrated with her condition. I can help with her if you want.”
“That would be amazing. Want to lead her back to her stall? She’s probably been out here long enough.”
I follow Dani into the pasture and over to Zephyr. The horse stands her ground, not running away, but not coming any closer either.
“I’ll get the halter and lead,” Dani says as she walks toward the barn.
“You want to go back to your stall and have some lunch?”
Zephyr tilts her head.
“You know that word? Lunch?” I turn and take a few steps toward the barn. “Come on, then, time to eat.”
When I twist around to look back, Zephyr is right on my heels. A forgotten sense of connection fills me, but I stuff it down. This is just an animal excited about a meal. She’s not following me for any other reason.
Dani meets us at the barn entrance, halter and lead loose in her grip. Her eyes widen when she sees us. “I guess we don’t need this.”
“Most horses don’t complain about heading back to the barn for a meal.”
Dani looks back and forth between me and Zephyr. “It’s more than that. She likes you.”
Zephyr goes right into her stall where a bit of hay is waiting. Dani closes the door and turns to me like she’s going to ask me something or talk about Zephyr.
“I actually have a packed afternoon.” I take three steps back toward the barn doors. I have too much work to do to hang out in a barn all day. “Just let me know if you have any questions.”
I hurry away before Dani has a chance to say anything.
Chapter Four
Noah
Ifollow the sound of shouting and find Daisy in the den, kneeling next to a skunk tangled in yarn.
“Skidmark, sweetie, just stay still.” With the ball of yarn in one hand, Daisy reaches forward to grab a string, but pulls her hand back quickly, like she doesn’t trust herself.
Her brows are pinched together, her mouth tight, her eyes glassy with frustration or sadness.
She looks up as I step inside. “Noah, thank goodness. Can you untangle Skidmark? I’m afraid if I let go of this yarn, he’ll just get more tangled.”
I hurry over and kneel on the floor next to the skunk. Skidmark lost his back legs when Dani hit him with her car last fall, but he gets around well on a little wheeled cart. At the moment, he looks downright terrified, and I’m glad he no longer has the scent glands to spray me.
The little skunk hisses as I hold him with one hand to stop him from running around in circles. “You’re really tangled up there, buddy.”
“It’s my fault,” Daisy says forlornly. “I was so frustrated, I threw my crochet hook across the room and it took the yarn with it. Skidmark just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“It’s not so bad,” I say in a soothing voice as I unwrap Skidmark and untangle his wheels.
As soon as he’s free, Skidmark races from the room, his wheels clattering on the hardwood floor of the den. Probably off to track down Dani.
I sit on the floor next to Daisy, bumping my shoulder against hers. “You crochet?”
She sighs as she wraps up the loose yarn. “I was trying to teach myself. It didn’t go well.”
“Still like to run off frustration?” I may not see Daisy often, but we talk at least once a week.
