Carli returned to her barstool and watched Nathan crack eggs into a bowl. “Peppers and onions?” he asked. “Hopefully, you have some.”
She paused for a moment to admire the starched Wrangler jeans, green paisley Western shirt, and polished boots that stood in her kitchen. But he didn’t make her heart skip a beat like the grubby, infuriating cowhand who worked for her. She cleared her throat and found what he needed. “These are kids who have all the odds stacked against them. I’ve been thinking about how we can make a difference in their lives. I’m not a professional counselor, but from what I’ve read sometimes these kids need a distraction. They just need a piece of normal.”
Nathan flipped over the bacon, walked closer, and put his hands on hers. “You were abandoned, weren’t you?”
Carli felt tears bubble up in her eyes and she swallowed the lump in her throat. The question never bothered her before but being here on this ranch and knowing she had real flesh and blood grandparents who searched for her made her feel even more abandoned. So stupid it brought such emotion still. She was an adult, for gosh sakes.
“Yes, my mother Michelle had a long, troubled past and, consequently, so do I. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t abused or anything like that. The people who raised me were loving and kind, but they were older. Closer to the age of grandparents so I was basically on my own from the time I could drive. I never even knew any of their family. They were somewhat reclusive. But they willingly funded whatever I wanted to do, and that happened to be anything relating to horses.”
“You showed horses?”
“Yes, hunter-jumper classes. Really, it was All Around. Western Pleasure. Horsemanship. We did everything. Except for driving a cart. I haven’t learned that. Yet.”
Nathan laughed. “That’s one of the things I admire about you. Always willing to tackle something new. I saw you can ride. You have real skills.” Nathan opened and shut several cabinet doors. “Plates?”
“I’ll get them. Are we dining formal this evening or kitchen?”
They looked at each other for a minute, and at the same time said, “Kitchen.” Carli smiled. She set up the bar with plates and silverware. “Cream or sugar?” she asked.
“Just black.”
Carli poured their coffees into the largest mugs she could find. Nathan turned from the stove and scraped a heap of scrambled eggs onto her plate.
“Flapjacks coming up. Find the butter, would ya, please?”
Carli buttered the hot cakes right as they came off the griddle. She found syrup in the pantry.
They pulled their stools up to the bar and dug in. Best looking dinner she’d ever seen. Between mouthfuls of pancake, she said, “These kids need help right now. I think I can make a difference.”
As they ate, Carli talked to Nathan about what she knew about programs using horses to help kids. She had spent the afternoon researching and learning as much as she could. A facility in Oklahoma had a wonderful program. Carli ordered books written by the founder and planned to send a donation and buy their annual calendar.
The stories were so touching, but tragic.
“Some of the kids are abused or abandoned and come to the ranch in a broken, non-communicative state. One facility I read about also rescues horses so sometimes the animals are in just as bad of shape as the kids. Somehow, miraculously, a child and horse end up helping each other heal. Most are faith-based operations.”
“That makes sense,” said Nathan. “It’s obvious God would be involved in some of the seemingly impossible stories.”
“Even some of the founders have their own tragedies to deal with, which led them to open their doors to others.” Carli refilled the coffee mugs. “I read about a lady whose parents had died tragically when she was just a girl. Her faith in God and love for a horse saved her from being destroyed by the loss. When she married, she and her husband were so broke financially but managed to buy a barren piece of land no one else wanted. Their home and program started there. Beaten and broken horses were rescued from the hands of their abusers, and eventually, at-risk children began to interact with the horses. God blessed the founders’ efforts and the land and program flourished. He brought beauty out of ashes.”
“That's in the Bible, you know. Beauty out of ashes. It's in Isaiah 61."
"Yes, I learned it from Lola. I'm going to have to study the whole chapter." Carli stared at him and thought he was a good guy.
Nathan continued. "So, how many kids would you have in the program?”
“We’d have to start off small. The problem will be finding horses suitable for this kind of outreach.”
“I can definitely help with that. I’ll get the word out and be on the lookout. I can also help with training. Whatever you need, Carli. Count the Rafter O all in with whatever you want to do.” Nathan pointed to the last piece of bacon and, when Carli shook her head, he polished it off. “Are you wanting to get into the rescue horse business too?”
“I don’t know about that yet. Seems like a lot to manage. I need to do more research. Of course, if we hear about an abuse or neglect problem in our area, we can certainly help. But I think my main focus right now should be on the kids. I really miss my coaching business.”
“This all started because of that girl in the coffee shop with the muffin, didn’t it? What was her name? Do you think abuse is a factor in her life?”
“Lexi? I really don’t know what her story is. Anger for some reason. Or teenage angst. I’m no shrink, but she came out to ride
