High Country Cowgirl. Joanna Sims
into the name. I thought about changing it after the divorce, but by then I’d been Doc Joplin for years, so why bother. I can’t sing, I’ve never had a drug problem, I’m not kin. So there you go.”
It took Bonita a split second to realize that Janice had finished, come up for air and was waiting on her now.
“Bonny.” She told Janice her nickname, sometimes a little shy about her own given name, while Janice’s pack of dogs wove around her legs, smacking her legs with their wagging tails. Tater was snarling at the circling, friendly pack of canines, showing her teeth and growling low in her throat.
“She’s the owner,” Gabe told Janice, and Bonita got the impression that he wanted to quickly clear up any confusion regarding her status.
“Perfect. Nice to meet you,” Janice said before she lurched away, her attention now on the horse in the rig. “Let’s see what you’ve brought me!”
Gabe grabbed the health certificate that had allowed them to travel across state lines with Val and handed it to Janice. Their hostess scanned the document, nodded quickly and handed it back.
“Doc is one of the few large animal veterinarians who specialize in acupuncture,” Gabe told Bonita as they walked to the back of the rig. “My brother Liam worked with her right out of vet school.”
Hands on her hips, Janice had moved on from small talk and her focus was on Val. “Let’s get him out of there and into the pasture.”
Gabe lowered the hydraulic ramp and hooked a lead rope to Val’s halter. Wide-eyed, ears forward, head bobbing up and down, Val was anxiously pawing at the ground, wanting to be free from his mobile stall.
Janice whistled her appreciation. “I do love an Oldenburg. You’ve got a nice horse here.”
Val came down the ramp, his nostrils flared, snorting loudly at the nearby horses. It was strange—Val was Bonita’s dream horse, and yet there was something that made her feel cautious around him. The horse was giant, muscular and in peak fitness. When his head was raised and he was wild-eyed and anxious, he was a handful.
Gabe, calm in the face of the horse’s natural fear and anxiety, handed the lead rope to Janice. He bent down and started to remove Val’s padded shipping boots from each leg, staying with the horse no matter how rambunctious he got.
“I know,” Janice said in a soothing voice to the nervous horse, rubbing his neck. “It’s all so strange.”
Glad to have the excuse of holding Tater, Bonita stood back, letting the other two handle Val. She had always felt a connection to every horse she had ever owned. But this time, she only felt nervous around Val. No connection. And it worried her. Her father and mother, who wanted her to continue showing, had picked out Val for her, and who would say no to a dream horse as a graduation present? It was the first time she hadn’t picked out her own show horse. Standing in Ohio, not wanting to engage with her new horse, made Bonita think that she should have said no.
“Where do you want him?” Gabe asked, taking the lead rope again.
“Take him to this pasture right here.” Janice pointed to an unoccupied pasture to her left. To Bonita, she added, “He’ll have the whole place to himself, so you won’t have to worry about him getting injured.”
Horses were herd animals, and as prey animals, they were highly alert to any possible danger. They were always curious about any new horse that appeared on the scene and the Oldenburg’s arrival was no exception. As Val pranced alongside Gabe, tossing his head and letting his tail fly like an unfurled flag behind him, all of the horses on the property had come to the edge of their fences and were watching attentively. Some of them started to run in their pastures, snorting and bucking and kicking at their pasture-mates. Others followed Val on their side of the fence, trying to catch his scent.
The moment Val was let off his lead, the Oldenburg exploded, bucking several times, farting and kicking out his hind legs, before he galloped to the far end of the pasture.
“He’s got a run-in shed, water, plenty of grass to eat. We can feed him with the others in about an hour or so, but that’s up to you,” Janice said.
“That’s fine.” Bonita gave a little shrug.
Val was touching noses across the fence with one of Janice’s horses. After a moment, both horses squealed and kicked at each other. Janice’s horse moved, which meant that Val won the higher spot in the hierarchy.
“He’s fine,” their hostess announced. “Let me show you the barn.”
“I’m going to clean out the rig real quick.” Gabe split off and walked away.
“You can dump your manure on the compost pile out back.”
“I think I’d better let Tater down for a moment,” Bonita said. “Do you think she’ll be okay with all of your four-legged friends?”
“Tater can handle her own.” Janice laughed. “She’ll be running this pack in five seconds flat, just you watch. Besides—they know each other. A couple of sniffs here, a couple of sniffs there, and they’ll be all reacquainted.”
Bonita was still reticent about putting Tater down but just as Janice had predicted, the three-legged Chihuahua wasn’t a pushover. Even so, after Tater finished her business, Bonita scooped her back up and tucked the dog into the crook of her arm.
“I appreciate you letting us rest here for the night.” Bonita had to work to keep stride with Janice, who walked as fast as she talked.
“Oh. No problem,” her hostess said in a breezy manner. “Gabe’s been stopping here for years. We’re always tickled to see him.”
Bonita followed Janice to the backside of the two-story Victorian, only to realize that the barn was actually attached to the house.
“This is amazing!” Bonita exclaimed, her eyes wide. “I have always wanted to have my house attached to my barn.”
Janice opened a small white picket gate that led into the stable. “I love it. But it’s an albatross. I’ll be hard-pressed to ever sell it, that’s a fact. Not many people want to live with their horses.”
“I would.”
“I like you already,” Janice said before she stopped in front of an empty stall. “Val will bed down in here tonight.”
“Okay.” Bonita was looking everywhere, trying to take it all in at once. “This place is too cool.”
“It was built back in the days when people wanted the heat from the animals to help heat the house,” Janice said. “It burned down once and got rebuilt sometime in the early 1900s. I can’t tell you how convenient it is during the winter or if one of mine is sick. I just come out here in my slippers and my nightgown. Done and done.”
Bonita thought they were still walking forward when Janice circled back, into her personal space again, and stopped. “So you and Gabe aren’t together?”
“No.” It struck Bonita as strange that anyone would put Gabe and her together as a couple; they were so different. “I kind of crashed the trip.”
“I knew it had to be something. Gabe doesn’t let clients travel with him. Some have followed behind him but never with him. Well.” Janice gave a disappointed cluck of her tongue. “That’s too bad. It’d be nice to see him settled down after all this time. I’m afraid he’s getting cemented in his ways and becoming an incorrigible bachelor. Not that I have room to talk, mind you. I’m divorced, my kids are grown, and other than fixing the fences, what do I need a man for?”
Janice opened a door that led into the farmhouse. “I just opened a bottle of red.”
A glass of wine, or two, was exactly what Bonita needed after seven straight hours of country music. She followed Janice from one part of her world, the barn, into the other part of her world, the farmhouse, which was infused with the scent of beef stew and greens simmering