It had been particularly important to Trace not only that he return home and work in the community but that he volunteer here, as well. While he was in college, he’d learned from his mom all about Healing Rides. It had drawn him, and of course, he’d shared his interest with Brandon.
“I was intrigued when Trace told me about your program here,” Brandon said. “So I did a lot of internet research into equine therapy. Seems to me this would be a powerful tool to help people suffering from physical as well as emotional trauma.”
“My wife and I have been involved in equine therapy for several years. And then Dr. Benedict was assigned to the team as our psychologist.” Ernie stood by the fence and watched the horses that were in the outdoor paddock. The weather was still cool enough during the days that the horses would be fine outside all day. There was plenty of shade as well as a water trough within the enclosure.
“That was when we really started to grow.” He looked at Brandon. “Equine therapy is valuable for treating all sorts of trauma, physical and mental, including PTSD.”
Brandon nodded. “Brittany Kendall told me she believes that being involved in the program had been instrumental in her recovery.” His voice was quiet. “Since speaking with her, I learned there are a lot of veterans enrolled in equine therapy, all across the country.”
“We heard the numbers were up at the last regional meeting,” Ernie said. “That didn’t surprise us one bit.” He nodded at an adolescent boy being escorted from a car to the indoor arena. “We have a lot of children enrolled at the moment. Kate Benedict has underwritten the program here. No one, adult or child, in need of our help gets turned away for the inability to pay.”
“Grandma Kate is one of the best people I know,” Trace said.
“I’m in agreement with you there,” Ernie said. “I’ll share with you a story she once told me. During the Second World War, when she was administrator of the town’s convalescent home, she had a patient—a rancher who’d enlisted, but who’d lost part of his leg in a training accident. The man had been consumed by depression. She said there’d been no emotional improvement until, on a hunch, she took her patient over to the Benedict’s ranch and her fathers-in-law got him up on a horse again.” Ernie grinned. “I’m just an old cowboy at heart, so the reality of the benefits of forming a bond with a horse isn’t news to me. Horses are, I believe, the smartest creatures God ever made. And that includes man.”
Trace was in agreement there.
Ernie turned away from the fence. “It was smart of the two of you to fill out your applications ahead of time online. You’ve both passed the background checks and have been accepted into the program. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Shar, and then we’ll get started. Mostly paperwork today, and then into the rotation next Saturday?” Ernie headed off.
“Sounds good.” Trace scanned the paddock and the surrounding land and then looked over at Brandon. “One more step in our new life here in Lusty.”
“I’m all about that,” Brandon agreed.
The two of them followed Ernie into the larger barn.
* * * *
It sure as hell wasn’t the best bar in town, but Buck Cosgrove didn’t really care. The place was dimly lit, smelled of beer, and offered credit to its regular customers.
Buck was most definitely a regular here.
He didn’t know anyone in the joint at the moment except Felix, the bartender. That suited him, too. He really wasn’t in the mood for company. There was a time when he’d been a social man. There’d been a time when it was important to him that everyone see him, notice him, and turn to him when he walked into a room.
No more.
Life, Buck had discovered, was a lot less work and a lot less disappointment if you just kept to yourself. Shiner and Jack were the only friends Buck Cosgrove needed these days.
Afternoons here on a Saturday generally saw a sparse crowd until after the supper hour. He might still be here then, or he might be gone. Just depended on how he felt.
The door opened, casting a wedge of unwelcome sunlight into the interior of the bar. When it closed, Buck swore under his breath. Rudi Howard, sometime acquaintance and total pain in his ass, had just come in. He hoped the man didn’t see him, sitting back in the corner the way he was. That thought no sooner formed than he realized he’d have no such luck today.
Rudi signaled to Felix, holding up two fingers, then sauntered over and sat down at Buck’s table without so much as a by-your-leave.
“Figured you’d be here,” Rudi said. “I’ve kind of been looking for you, on account I have some news for you. I ran into Jeanie yesterday. She was at a party with her new girlfriend.”
Jeanie had been a friend of Buck’s ex. She’d also been Rudi’s old lady for a time, too, until she left him for another chick. If I’d been Rudi, after that, I’d have just crawled off into a hole somewhere. Buck just barely avoided smirking. Poor dumb bastard didn’t even know what a blow to his manhood it was, having his woman leave him for another woman.
Felix brought two bottles of beer over, setting one in front of each of them. Rudi ponied up the cash and even gave the man a tip.
Buck raised his bottle in thanks and figured it was a good time to stop the bastard in his gossiping tracks. “If it’s about my ex’s kid croaking, I don’t wanna hear it, because I don’t fucking care.”
He’d convinced himself that his ex-wife must have been fucking someone
