Page 24 of Ashes of the Past
“Nonsense,” I say with a laugh. “There’s plenty of food.”
“Joanne, you ready to take a look at that mare? She’s over here,” Jack interjects as he clears his throat.
Joanne straightens, all business now. “Let’s do it.”
I follow them, keeping a little distance as they walk toward the stall. Jack’s pace is steady, his shoulders squared like always, but there’s something about the way he talks to Joanne that softens him. He’s still gruff, still the one calling the shots, but there’s a gentleness in his tone that I’ve never heard before. It’s a big brother thing, I guess. Protective but not overbearing.
Inside the barn, Jack leads Joanne to the mare. The horse’s coat gleams, but there’s a nasty scrape along her leg that’s clearly been bothering her. Joanne crouches down, running her hands gently over the wound.
How did I not know about this?
“How long has that been there?” I ask quietly.
“I can’t say for sure,” Jack answers. “But long enough that it’s infected.”
“It’s pretty deep and angry,” Joanne says, her voice calm and measured. “Looks like it’s a couple of days old. Did she try to jump the fence or something?”
Jack nods. “No. I know what happened, and it’s been taken care of; that’s all I’ll say.”
Joanne’s eyes flit to his carefully and questioningly. I feel a pit of guilt in my stomach, assuming that Lane is somehow responsible for this. If he reports that to Joanne, it can cause more problems for us.
Joanne pulls a small kit from her bag and gets to work. She cleans the wound with practiced efficiency, her movements steady and sure. Jack watches closely, arms crossed, but there’s a softness in his eyes that catches me off guard. He’s not just watching—he’s learning, like he wants to be sure he knows what to do next time.
“Here,” Joanne says, handing him a small jar of salve. “This is an antibiotic ointment. Apply it twice a day until it starts to scab over. Keep her out of the mud, if you can.”
Jack takes the jar, nodding. “Got it. Thanks, Jo.”
She smiles up at him. “Anytime. Perks of coming home. You get to spend extra time with your family and get a horse treated.”
He snorts. “Except that you’re probably going to charge me five hundred dollars for an emergency call.”
They both chuckle, and I’m struck by how easy their relationship is. Jack’s still the same gruff, no-nonsense guy, but with Joanne, there’s a warmth that’s rare to see.
“Nah, that would have been Sutton’s price for sure. I offered to take her place, so this call is on the house.”
“Will that be the same answer when I ask you to look at another one? She took a pretty good hit to the head.”
“Let me see if you’re pushing it or not,” she says teasingly.
They move to another stall, inspecting a second mare. She’s quiet for a moment, then says, “She looks good, but I’d like Doc Sutton to take a look tomorrow. She’ll be able to give her a proper exam.”
Jack nods. “I’ll make sure she’s ready.”
We all step out of the barn together, their conversation shifting to something about the kids’ day plans. As they walk, Ava and Bret come tearing around the corner, their laughter echoing through the yard. They run straight to Jack, throwing their arms around his legs in a quick, fierce hug.
“Uncle Jack!” Ava squeals, looking up at him with wide, adoring eyes.
Jack’s entire demeanor changes in an instant. The gruffness melts away, replaced by much more softness than even the unexpected glimpses I just caught in the barn. He crouches down, giving Ava a quick hug, before giving knuckles to Bret.
“You two behaving yourselves?” he asks, his voice low but warm.
“Yes,” they chime in unison, though their mischievous grins say otherwise.
“Good,” Jack says, standing up. “Go on, then. Don’t get into too much trouble.”
The kids giggle and take off toward the porch, their laughter fading as they disappear around the corner. I watch Jack straighten, his usual gruff expression slipping back into place, but there’s a lingering tenderness in his eyes that stays with me.
I’ve never seen him like this before. With Joanne, there’s an unspoken bond, a quiet respect that tempers his rough edges. And with the kids? He’s patient, kind, even gentle. It’s…nice. Unexpected but nice.
