Page 3 of Home Hearts Hooves

“How is the family?” I ask.

“Good as gold,” he replies. “And your momma, she’s good, I hope?”

“Yep, doing great.”

“Good, good. Well, you have yourself a wonderful day.”

“You, too,” I reply and watch as he leaves the clinic, slowly climbs into the cart, and pulls away from the curb. The thing only goes a few miles an hour, and everyone in town knows to keep a close eye out for Castor in the mornings. He’s lived his whole life in Bellerelle and has been the postman for most of it, too. It would be weird to see someone else riding around town on his little mail cart, but judging by the increase in dents I can see through the clinic window, it’s time.

While Caster has never left, I couldn’t wait to get out of Bellerelle. When I ran away, I was running from a few things. Heartbreak, sure, but also from the expectations, a plan for my life that I wasn’t ready for. I knew I’d be back one day. After exploring the world and the animals that inhabit every corner of it. I loved growing up around animals and I saw no other future for me than following in my father’s footsteps. I just never thought one day would come around so fast.

Grandpa died at fifty from a massive heart attack, Dad made it to sixty-one, and part of the reason I had to get out of Bellerelle and see the world was the fear that my life would come to the same brutally sudden end and I’d never get to. I’ve been getting annual health checkups for a while now. Got a full bill of health at my last one, just two weeks ago, so I should be good for a while.

The clinic phone rings, and I pick it up to find Jed from the Peterson’s ranch on the line.

“Hey, Preston,” he starts. Most of the farmers call me by my name instead of Dr. Knight. My dad was Dr. Knight, so I don’t really mind. I grew up with these guys, so we keep it pretty casual. Except for Dean, he always calls me Doc.

“Hey, what can I help with today?” I ask.

“I picked up twelve horses from a foreclosure a couple of days ago. They were in the south paddock during last night’s storm, and a tree branch fell, clocking one of the colts on the head. Thing isn’t moving, but I can see it’s breathing. Can you come?”

“I’ll be there in five. Can you clear any other horses out of the area for me?”

“Sure, I will. See you soon.”

I hang up, grab some things, preparing for the worst, and drive straight over. If this colt isn’t moving, he could have all kinds of injuries. I wonder how big the branch was. I really don’t want to have to euthanize a horse today. While I am aware that not every animal can be saved, it is the absolute worst part of my job.

I pull into the Peterson’s farm, and Jed leads me over to where he left the colt lying in the mud. Only, when we near the paddock, there is the colt standing right as rain under the tree that nearly killed it.

“Well, that’s good, right?” Jed says as we climb the rail and walk over.

“It’s a good sign, yeah. We won’t know for sure that he’s all well until I get a good look at him, though.”

The colt is covered in mud, and blood is caked down his head from a gash that has already stopped bleeding just above his right ear. He’s got his back to us, and his stance looks good. Solid.

“Might need some stitches on that cut,” I say and reach out to sweep my hand along his flank, and just as my fingers brush against him, the fucking thing makes a gasping noise, goes stiff as a board, and falls towards me. Jed quickly pulls me out of the way just as the colt falls to the ground.

“What the fuck?” Jed says, climbing to his feet. My ass and half my arm is covered in mud now, too.

“It’s like someone shot him,” I say, moving to crouch beside the colt to check his vitals.

His heartbeat is a little fast, but then I check his reaction to sound.

“It can’t hear out of the left ear at all and has limited reactions on the right,” I say, and Jed takes off his hat and holds it over his chest.

“Poor fella’s deaf?”

“Afraid so, but the cut looks okay. Not too deep. I’m not sure the branch did this. What history do you have on him?”

“Not much, you know how foreclosures go. The banks just want to sell everything off as quickly as they can. We corralled them into the paddock just fine, but he was with the rest of the herd, then. If you think whatever it is might be permanent, maybe we should put him out of his misery?” Jed asks, and my heart sinks. Sure, a deaf horse isn’t easy to manage, one that apparently plays dead when spooked would be even harder, but judging from everything else I see, he’s pretty healthy.

“I can take him, find him a good home,” I say, and Jed raises a brow.

“You want him, he’s yours.”

“Thanks, umm, can I borrow a trailer and maybe a few guys to help me get him inside? I have a feeling he’s not going to stand up and just walk on.”

“I’ll call the boys,” he says, and twenty minutes and a lot of muscle later, the colt is inside an extra-wide trailer, still on his side, and we’re headed away.

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