CHAPTER SIX
Preston drove up a long driveway. In the distance, an old country farmhouse and big red barn came into view. Horses trotted around the corrals and fields. Kane gazed at the blueness of the sky, pale with white, fluffy clouds interspersed. Yellow and purple wildflowers dotted the tall green grass. The farm looked like something out of a painting. He couldn’t help but smile as Preston cut the engine on the truck. While he couldn’t wait to learn about equine therapy and use it with a child, he also couldn’t stop thinking about Charley. Her dark-blonde hair, not quite golden, but with strands of chestnut and cinnamon mixed in. He wished he’d been more suave and refined, instead of a total dork.
Stepping from the cab, he took a deep breath. The familiar smells of hay, horses, grass, wildflowers, and manure filled his lungs and reminded him of those many days with his mom at Final Chance Corrals, brushing the new foals, feeding them from a bottle, or even sitting and talking with them so they’d get used to humans.
“Welcome to The Heartsong Ranch,” a deep voice spoke.
He jumped and glanced around. He’d missed the approach of the dark-haired man standing beside the paddock gate. “Hi. I’m Kane Warner”—he held out his hand—“the summer intern.”
They shook hands and he quickly sized up his new boss. Unlike many of the coaches on the football team who never ran drills with the players, this man worked as a part of the team. The coaches had stood on the sidelines and shouted. For them, prestige and money were the vital parts of the game. For his new boss…it had to be about something more.
“Hiya, Kane. I’m Jake Kyncade. I own this spread. You came highly recommended by the leadership at Final Chance Corrals. It’s my understanding you worked there.”
Kane nodded.
“But you haven’t had any teaching experience so far. Is that correct?”
“Erm, sir…n…n…” He wanted to lie and give this man all sorts of stories about his experience but he’d seen firsthand how lies went south. “No, sir. I’ve not had any teaching experience. I have coached peewee football, though.”
“Thank you for being honest. This summer, your job will challenge you in ways you don’t expect. But you’ll be a far better person because of it.” The dark-haired man turned his attention to the animal doc. “You planning on looking at Cheyenne, today?”
“I know you are anxious to breed her again. So I’ll take a look, just to make you happy.” Preston strolled to the back of his truck and grabbed his medical kit.
“Cheyenne’s in stall three.” Jake nodded toward the barn then turned to Kane. “I’d like you to meet her. She’s my finest therapy horse.”
The three men sauntered into the barn. The bright daylight didn’t reach far inside. Overhead, fluorescent bulbs hummed as they lit up the space. The mild scents of hay and manure reminded him of home. He’d spent so much time at Final Chance Corrals, it’d become his second home. Leaving the job for football had been challenging, but it hadn’t been as hard as losing his mom. Memories of time spent with her floated through his mind as he’d stepped into the barn. Kane took a deep breath and pushed his uncomfortable feelings to the side. First day on the job wouldn’t be a good time to break down and spill all his secrets. Besides, it wasn’t a guy thing to do. He’d man up and pull those emotions out later, when he was alone.
Counting off the stall doors, he headed through the barn and arrived at Cheyenne’s stall. A burn-etched plaque hung off to the side of the door, proudly proclaiming the mare’s many accomplishments. A tall brown horse stood watching him. In addition to her physical beauty, intelligence shown in the mare’s eyes. Tentatively, he stretched his hand out. She took a step closer, so her nose barely touched his fingers.
“You are such a pretty girl, Cheyenne. Look at how your hide looks brown but is more like a milk-chocolate color. Did you know it’s my favorite treat? What’s yours?” With each of his words, it inched closer. Now he could reach out and cup her face or rub her behind her ears.
“Is your favorite treat an apple? A carrot? I hope it’s not chocolate. I’m not much for sharing.” Cheyenne whinnied and shook her head. His laugh bubbled out.
“What do you think of our spoiled princess?” Jake reached around Kane and ran his hand down the mare’s neck.
“She’s smart, I’ll give you that. It’s like she can communicate with us.” He placed his hands on the stall door and pushed himself up so he could glimpse the whole animal. “Physically, she appears in top condition, so why the worry about breeding?”
“About a year ago, she survived a backward delivery then came down with an infection from a piece of the placenta remaining inside.” Jake angled his head at Preston. “He saved her life.”
As the good doctor approached the horse, she stomped her foot and shook her head, seeming to not want to see him.
“Come on, Chey,” he cajoled and unlocked the door. Slowly entering, Preston leaned against the door and latched it. “I’m not here to hurt you. No shots this time.” He stuck his head over the door and winked at him. “Cheyenne hates shots. She does love her apples, though.”
Cheyenne butted Preston with her nose, sending him into the door. “Omph.” He looked over his shoulder at the mare, which now stood still.
Kane could swear she had an innocent, “who me?” look on her face.
“Guess no apple for you,” Preston taunted the horse. He reached into his medical bag and pulled out a shiny red apple, holding it aloft, showing Cheyenne. “Do you want this?”
Kane wasn’t surprised when the mare nodded her head. He’d known at first glance, she was special.
Preston continued his negotiation with the animal, but finally gave the apple after he listened to her heart and ran his hands over her abdomen and hind quarters.
The sound of a car door slamming had everyone’s heads turning. The smell of chocolate arrived before the striking petite woman who entered. While he drooled over the scent, his boss drooled over the woman herself.
“Hey, babe.” Jake ran and scooped the women up into his arms, kissing her fiercely. “Now, this is one way to start a good morning.”
Preston exited Cheyenne’s stall, strolled over, and grabbed the bakery bag from the woman. “This is my idea of a treat. Come here, kid.” He motioned to Kane. “Have a slice of heaven from Café French.” Pulling a chocolate muffin from the bag, Preston held it out.
Kane took the muffin and broke off a piece, stuffing it into his mouth. His momma did always say “growing boys need to eat,” and he’d just had a small breakfast this morning—nothing compared to the protein meals during the championship season.
The doctor paused in his own face stuffing to remember his manners. “Angela, if my buddy here will put you down, I have someone you should meet.” Jake set the woman to her feet but kept his arms around her waist as if he wasn’t able to let her go. “Ms. Angela, this is Kane Warner.”
“Oh, I’ve heard all about you, Kane. You’re the one Charley’s having panic attacks over.”