Somehow, being at the ranch brought a sense of peace she hadn’t expected and Angie soaked it in trying to center herself for the days ahead. Perhaps by the end of the day, she would even be ready for the evening ride. A shiver rolled down her spine, and she reconsidered. Perhaps riding lessons would be a better plan; one-step at a time so to speak.
Angie leaned back into her chair letting the sunlight wash over her. In the fields around her, horses grazed peacefully while the chatter, laughter, and cheer of other guests drifted over the ranch.
A loud snort startled her and Angie opened her eyes to see a big mule leaning over the railing studying her. As her heart slowed, she laughed reaching up a hand to stroke the mealy nose of the beast.
“Hello,” she grinned, stroking the animal. “Are you Jack or Scott?” Another mule joined the first one, and together the team let Angie fuss over them. The big red mules, a cross between a donkey and a large workhorse towered over her, but their gentle natures and inquisitiveness didn’t intimidate her. She had become familiar with both of these animals five years earlier and oddly, they didn’t frighten her at all.
“I wish I knew which of you were which?” Angie studied the two animals trying to pick out any differences, but if there were any she couldn’t tell. From what she had learned on her previous visit, every working draft team, on the Broken J, were always named Jack and Scott. It seemed like a silly if sweet tradition. The Ballard family had been keeping it going for generations, ever since Hank Ballard had arrived on the ranch in the late 1800s. There was no indication of them stopping it anytime soon.
Angie scratched a mule on the forehead, only to have the other mule lean further into the fence seeking her attestation. The wood groaned as the animal’s broad chest pressed against it and Angie’s heart raced. What if one of the massive beasts broke through the fence?
“Don’t do that,” she scolded but the mule only rubbed his shoulder against the fence making it creak and groan.
Angie grabbed the rails of her chair trying to turn it, but the wheels had sunk into the gravel path. Shifting her body, she urged the chair forward even as the big mule huffed out a breath that ruffled her hair. With one final desperate shove, she got her chair moving and hurried away from the big animals. They might be gentle, but they were both very large. She didn’t want to be anywhere near them if they snapped the fence.
Fear clawed at Angie’s throat as the worst-case scenarios raced through her mind. One of the fence rails shattering, bursting out and skewering her on a jagged tip. The mule stumbling through the fence and falling on her, crushing her under its great weight, or even just tipping her wheelchair over, spilling her to the ground with no way to get back up, or even to safety.
Angie pushed her way back to her cabin, wheeling into the wheelchair accessible tiny house and closing the door behind her fear and worry. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think of anything but shutting the world out as waves of helplessness washed over her.
Trying to focus she made her way to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the small fridge. Popping it open she guzzled a long drink, letting the icy chill fill her and take away some of the heat of her anxiety.
As her heart slowly returned to its usual pace, bright tears pricked at Angie’s eyes. How was she ever going to be able to help others if she panicked at the first sign of things getting out of control? Her greatest fear had always been helplessness, and now her fear threatened to make her helpless.
Chapter 4
Angie rolled into the dining area of the big ranch house for supper only to stop as the nervous chatter of guests washed over her. Everyone seemed to be in a dither over something, and Angie was sure she had missed something important today.
Spotting the friendly cowboy from the morning, she wheeled toward him and called out. “What’s going on?” she whispered, eliciting a smile.
“Seems one of the younger riders decided they knew better than the guides and forced their horse down a side trail away from the main group. She took a tumble when the horse turned back rather suddenly.”
“She isn’t hurt is she?” Angie’s eyes grew wide.
“No, but they’re getting her checked out in Tipton before the family moves on.”
“Are they leaving because they’re angry?” Angie asked worried that Phil and Chase would be losing business.
Jace chuckled, “No, more like Phil’s mad, and they broke the agreement they signed at the beginning of the week. Knowing Phil she’ll refund whatever remains of their visit, but legally she doesn’t have to.”
“Does this sort of thing happen often?” Angie couldn’t imagine disregarding the guides and their rules. She knew from her mother and father’s visit that the horses were gentle and dependable and that the guides were highly skilled riders.
“No. Thank heavens,” Jace sighed. “The riding agreements are watertight, legally, and Chase has the best crew he can find. He doesn’t just hire anyone who can ride. He had connections throughout the rodeo community and tends to hire a lot of former riders and workers. Men and women from the circuit have loads of experience with horses and people.”
“I knew Chase
