The Forgotten Child

Chapter 17, The Forgotten Child

Chapter Seventeen

Mary Haske arrived after breakfast. She hung her light jacket up in the hall closet, dressed so neat and tidy for cleaning. Brad had just left to feed the horses. Emily could hear the tractor plowing its way to the fenced off fifteen acres, filled with trees, a meadow and a creek, containing Brad's twenty five horses—a paradise for a horse to live this close to nature, with room to run.

"Emily, why don't you take a break? Go on out for a walk on this beautiful property. I've got Trevor and your little angel. I'll watch them for you."

Emily tossed down the sponge she'd used to wipe the counter. She loved this property, the animals and the horses. "You know what? I will. Thank you."

Emily grabbed a coat of the hook and Mary shooed her out the back door. Emily was halfway across the field, her hands shoved in her pockets when she heard Brad yell. Emily hurried to the fence line. A crop of trees surrounded the tractor and several horses seemed to gather around one spot.

"Brad, is everything all right?" She shouted.

"Rusty broke his leg." Rusty was a twenty-year-old quarter horse appaloosa mix, Brad's horse, the one he always rode. Emily hurried to the gate.

"Emily, grab a couple halters and come in here. Close the gate behind you." Emily grabbed three halters with lead ropes attached from the hooks by the gate and then slipped inside, stepping through the muddy track, puddles and damp brush in her new, white running shoes.

Brad was on the other side of the tractor, a bale of hay in the teeth of the loader, waiting to be dropped in the large feeder. Horses surrounded Brad and Rusty, who stood in a small crop of brush with a few small branches sticking out. The closer she got, she could see the blood seeping from a gash just below his hip. Brad yelled at the small dark Arabian who wouldn't leave Rusty's side.

Emily had to push her way through the horses. "Here, I grabbed three."

Brad took the blue halter and slung it on the Arabian.

"Em, I need you to hold Smoky for me." He handed her the lead rope. "Just pull him back, keep him back until I tell you. I need to get a better look." Brad used a soothing voice as he ran his hand down the horses flank. Blood covered Brad's hand and the horse nickered, a sorrowful sound that squeezed the peace right out of Emily's soul.

"How bad is it?" Smoky yanked on the lead rope and swung his backend around. Emily had to yank a few times on the rope to back him up.

Brad hung his head, took off his hat while he rested his hand lovingly on Rusty's back. "It's bad. I'm going to have to put him down."

It became one of those moments, when the hurt surrounding her felt as if her heart shattered into a hundred pieces. His hand shook as he pulled out his cell phone.

"I need to speak with Doc Vander's, it's Brad Friessen... What the hell? No, this is an emergency. Isn't anyone filling in for him...? Okay, give me his number." Brad ended the call. He didn't face Emily. She could see he was struggling to hold it together, the way a man, who's determined to be strong, does. He punched in some numbers. "This is Brad Friessen; Doc Vander's office gave me your number. I've got to put my horse down; he's got a bad break on his hind leg just above the knee. No, he's stuck in some brush. Three hours? I'm not waiting, and letting my horse suffer for that long. Yeah, right, thanks for nothing." Brad hung up and squeezed his phone, shaking his fist in the air.

When he faced Emily, he wouldn't look right at her. He stared off to the side, but she didn't miss the sheen of tears that glossed over his eyes. "The vet's on vacation, and the closest vet available is on a call in Olympia and can't get here for three hours. I'm going to have to put him down myself."

Emily didn't know what that meant, but she figured Smoky did. He yanked again, this time getting away, almost dragging Emily with him. He flanked Rusty's side once again, rubbing his nuzzle up and down Rusty's neck, as if to comfort him.

Brad stepped away from Rusty. He took off Smoky's lead rope so he wouldn't trip. "Let him say goodbye."

This time when Brad stepped closer, she could see the agony of what he needed to do. She'd heard stories of putting your animals down, but never experienced such a loss. "Brad, are you sure, can't his leg heal? Can't you just wait till the vet gets here? Can't we do something for him?"

Brad shoved his hand through his hair and tightened his lips to a thin line. Then put his black cowboy hat back on his head. "No Emily, there's nothing I can do. His rear leg's broken, just above the knee, and that gash is a branch that poked right through him. If he was a young horse, maybe surgery could be done. He's too old. It wouldn't be fair to him and he's lost too much blood. It'd be cruel to make him suffer." Brad started around Emily. "I'm going to need you to hold Smoky back when I put him down."

"Where are you going?" Brad didn't turn around.

"To get my gun."