Healing Trace (25 page)

Devon
tossed a cowboy hat to Katie. "Put that on your head, lil' red. You'll
need it if you're going to go ride the fence line with me."

Katie
frowned. "You're not wearing one."

"My
skin is much darker than yours, and I'm used to being outdoors all day."
He removed the hat from her grasp when she didn't move to put it on, plopped it
down on her head, and laughed. "With your white skin and all those
freckles, you'll be burnt in no time."

"Great,"
Katie mumbled. "Nice of you to notice."

Joan
turned away to hide her smile. Kate's hatred with her freckles went way back
and Joan, who'd always thought freckles were cute had none, despite having the
same hair color as Katie.

Devon
put his hands on Katie's shoulders and directed her toward the stables. He
stayed a moment with Joan as Katie ran off.

"Thanks
again for inviting her. That's all she's talked about." Joan smiled up at
him. "She's been ready to go since seven o'clock this morning."

"I
should thank you. I was supposed to meet with you, but Brody offered to sit in
my place. I haven't been on a horse for a week. I've been flying here and
there, and with all the permits required for the clinic, I haven't had much
time for the ranch." Devon turned at the front door opening. "I much
rather be out on the land."

Joan
sighed in relieve when Brody walked out. The last person she wanted to run into
was Trace. She'd lectured herself all the way out to the ranch not to fall
apart, but she didn't trust herself not to crumble if she saw him.

"Don't
worry. Trace is busy with the horses today. I doubt if he'll even come up to
the house." Devon squeezed her arm before walking away.

"Ready?"
Brody waved her up to the porch. "I'm in a hurry to get this done.

"Why?"
She followed him into the house.

"Big
date night." Brody grinned.

***

Trace
stayed beside the round pen all night. The sun had come up and with the new
day, Thunderbolt came closer to Trace's side of the fence with each passing
hour. The horse was an arm length away from him, and Trace dared not move.

His
legs had cramped up, gone to sleep, shot pins and needles through the arch of
his feet into his ass, and he had yet to move. All he needed was Thunderbolt to
be curious enough to nose him, and he'd have his trust. Gaining Thunderbolt's
respect took longer than he thought it would, but he was determined to outlast
him.

A
loud, higher than usual laugh, wafted in the breeze and tempted Trace to turn
around. His heart raced and he let the musical melody calm him. The intrusion
sounded similar to the feminine wave of Joan's laughter when she'd tease him.

The
carefree, light sound made him feel lighter and stronger.
Joan.

Hungry,
exhausted, and at his most vulnerable point in his life, Trace wanted one thing
more than a soft bed, food in his stomach, or to ride the wildest horse he'd
ever captured. He wanted the woman who'd stayed with him, even after he'd told
her his darkest secret.

Instead
of running away, Joan simply held his hand. Not in pity, but in support. He
breathed through his nose, concentrating on remaining still. Thunderbolt
brushed his shoulder, and stepped back.

Come
on. If I can do it, you can do it. Put your trust in me.

He
directed his words toward the horse, but also to himself. How did he expect a
horse to put his faith in him, when he couldn't even allow himself to trust
Joan? He was not only cruel, but also selfish.

He'd
willingly stepped into a relationship with Joan, and he did it under false
pretenses, never planning to fully commit. He played it safe, because that's
all he knew.

To
put himself out there, to allow himself to get hurt had been out of the
question for his whole life. Pain, neglect, and abuse always came if he tried.
No one had ever loved him, just because. There was always a price.

Except
Joan. She never asked him for anything.

Thunderbolt
lowered his head and rubbed his nose along the length of Trace's shirt. Trace
leaned forward and let the horse lip his hair. He exhaled out of his mouth,
filling the area around them with his scent. The horse neighed, pushing against
him, trying to move him. He held his ground. Trace waited for the right moment,
and when Thunderbolt threw his head, Trace grabbed a handful of white mane and
vaulted onto Thunderbolt's back.

A
load of buckshot peppering the ground couldn't have spooked Thunderbolt more.
Trace wrapped his hands into Thunderbolt's thick mane, and held on. His already
stressed body took a beating and yet, he never let go. It was the best ride of
his life as he bounced around the round pen, using every muscle to hold on to
his life, depending on himself, and proving not only to Thunderbolt, but also
to himself, that he was worthy of Thunderbolt's trust.

Time
faded away. Trace was in it for the long haul, proving he had the gumption to
go forever. He had to do it for himself, Thunderbolt, and hoped at the end of
the day if he tried hard enough, he'd prove to Joan he was worth loving.

For
not only had he understood Thunderbolt as he stood waiting through the night,
he'd come to learn more about himself.

Much
later, Thunderbolt stood on all four legs. The horse's sides ballooning with
each breath he dragged into his body. Sweat coated them both. Trace relaxed,
let go with one hand, and stroked Thunderbolt's neck.

Waste,
Wakiya Hotop. Waste.

Devon
walked up to the round pen with Katie glued to his side. "You did
it," Devon said quietly.

"What
time is it?" Trace whispered, not wanting to spook Thunderbolt.

"Seven
o'clock. I'm getting ready to take Katie home, and thought I better check to
see how you were doing." Devon shook his head in wonder. "You've done
something incredible, brother. I had no hope for this horse. No one did."

"Katie?"
Trace waited for her to look him directly in the eye, not wanting to raise his
voice and knowing that the twenty-four hours he'd stayed outside with the horse
had him looking a scary sight. "I was rude last night when I met you. I
apologize. I would like nothing more than to get to know you better."

She
squinted one eye and tilted her head against the sun setting in the distance.
"Are you done being a dumb ass to my sister?"

"Yes."
He sat up straighter. "I would tell you exactly how I feel about Joan, but
I want her to hear the truth first."

"Cool."
She gave him a thumb up. "That'll mean I can spend more time out
here."

He
raised his brow. "Can you do me another favor?"

Katie
shrugged. "Sure."

He
motioned with his head. "Get up on that trailer, and stay up there until
Devon says you can come down."

She
planted her hands on her hips and frowned. "Why should I?"

"Devon's
going to open the gate for me, and although I trust the horse to run away from
the barn and toward to open space, you're too important for me to take a chance
with your safety. I want you somewhere the horse is least likely to go. If you
want to watch, you can do it from a safe place." He adjusted his hands,
and grabbed more of the mane between his fingers.

When
Katie was in position, Devon stood outside the gate. "You better hold
on."

Trace
nodded.

"Ready?"
Devon stepped back so the gate would protect him from Thunderbolt if he threw
his hooves.

"Let
us go."

The
gate sung open. Thunderbolt threw his head, and shot out of the pen. Trace
leaned over the horse's neck, rewarding Thunderbolt for the work he'd done the
last twenty-four hours by letting him have his run.

An
hour later, horse and rider came to the rise, where Lakota ranch land meshed
with the border of land owned by the Lakota. Thunderbolt sniffed the air, and
Trace pulled him to a stop.

In
the distance, a wild mustang herd foraged in the green grass below. Thunderbolt
blew through his nose. This is what today was all about. It was time to let go
of the past, and start a new beginning.

He
could feel the pent up energy in the stallion. Trace's decision came guilt
free. Every tug of war and stubborn stance Thunderbolt had thrown at him made
sense now. The horse wasn't battling wills against Trace or fighting his need
to remain wild.

Thunderbolt
wanted to go home.

Without
tormenting the horse another second, Trace slid off Thunderbolt's back. The
horse stood for a split second, then reared up on his hind legs, and called
through the wind. He landed on all four legs, kicking up divots of earth with
his back hoofs as he galloped away.

Trace
stood watching him go, a white speck in a brown background, growing smaller the
farther he ran. A hundred feet before Thunderbolt reached the herd; a mare
broke away from the others and welcomed him home.

The
smile came easy to Trace. He should have known. Thunderbolt and him were both
fighting for the same thing.

Thunderbolt
fought him with all his strength, never giving up until he trusted Trace to do
the right thing. He lifted his arm in the air in farewell. For the first time
in his life, Trace believed he'd worked hard enough and earned his freedom.

Waste,
Wakiya Hotop.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The
third time the lone woman walked in front of the clinic doors, hesitated, and
continued on her way without coming inside,  Joan got out of her chair to find
out if she needed help. She hurried outside and gazed in the direction where
the woman disappeared. She didn't know if she was overly anxious to assist
someone, or if the woman found it hard to come inside and ask for assistance.

Whatever
her purpose, she'd disappeared out of sight. Joan stepped back inside the
clinic, and made it halfway across the waiting room when the same woman knocked
on the open door.

The
petite woman glanced behind her before stepping into the lobby. "Excuse
me?"

Joan
smiled and waved her forward. "Come on in. You can shut the door, and
maybe the air conditioner will start cooling the room off. It sure turned out
warm today. I never thought I'd say I was ready for winter, but I am growing
tired of the heat."

The
woman's stiff posture relaxed and she hurried to shut the door. "I-I don't
know what I'm doing here."

Joan
motioned for her to come around the partition. The hesitation in the woman's
voice, and the way she kept glancing behind her spoke volumes to Joan. Either
nervous or afraid of being seen coming in for help, she was brave enough to
make the first step. It was her job to put the woman at ease.

"My
name's Joan." She pointed to the chair. "Have a seat. We can talk
privately here."

"T-thank
you." She wrapped her arms around her stomach. "I'm Sarah."

"What
brings you here today, Sarah?" She ignored her need to write down all the
information, and start a file.

"I'm
nervous, and a little scared. I've never done anything like this." She
rubbed her arms. "I don't have to pay you, right?"

"No.
Hope Clinic is a non-profit organization, privately funded, to help those who
need a helping hand within the Lakota tribe."

"This
is so embarrassing…" Sarah blushed self-consciously.

Joan
waited.

"My
son. He drinks, and I don't know what to do anymore." She let out her
breath. "He scares me."

"Is
he hurting you when he drinks?" Joan asked.

Sarah
shook her head. "No, of course not. I'm his mother. I know what it's like
to watch someone lose control of a drinking problem. His dad…he's gone now, he
drank and would hit us. I'm afraid my son will do the same. I don't want to
have to kick him out of my home, but I have smaller children who don't
understand the arguing and my son's mood changes. He's growing up so fast, but
he's still my little boy."

"How
old is your son?" Joan opened the desk drawer.

"He's
seventeen, and hangs out with his friends instead of going to school."
Sarah leaned forward. "The school tells me it's my responsibility to take
him every day, but he doesn't listen."

Joan
spent the next twenty minutes going over what Hope Clinic could do to help her
son and because he was a minor, Sarah could place him, as his guardian, in
counseling to start the twelve-step program. Sarah appeared unsure if she could
get her son to come to the first appointment, but after Joan explained how her
son would be paid twenty-five dollars for each step he completes of the
program, Sarah smiled.

"Thank
you so much, Joan. I will tell my son." Sarah stood and shook Joan's hand.
"I'm relieved. I think he'll agree to coming after he hears he will have
money to use on his car he bought last summer."

Joan
walked her to the door, waved goodbye, and waited ten seconds before jumping in
the air in excitement. "Yes!"