but had left a mighty bad taste in his mouth. Literally as well as figuratively.
The door to the tack room opened and an old man walked in. He nodded.
Zach acknowledged the greeting with his own nod.
The old guy went about putting up tack. “I saw you ride at the Frontier Days Rodeo in Ocate. It was a great win.”
Zach remembered that rodeo held in the little town in northeastern New Mexico. It had been his first all-around championship. He’d been a senior in high school and full of himself. “Thanks.”
“You’ve got a natural talent, Zach McClure.”
“Had.”
The old guy stopped. “I didn’t know talent was in your foot.”
The unexpected comeback stunned Zach. The old guy had a point. A smile curved Zach’s lips. “I didn’t know it, either.”
The man walked over to where Zach sat. “When I was young and riding the circuit, I had more drive than sense. I got tossed off a bull. He was a nasty piece of work. Once he throwed me, he came back to stomp on my arm.” He shook his head. “I never saw a clown move so fast as to get that bull’s attention on him.
“It took me six months to heal. It took another six months for me to get my body back into shape. I kept falling off those mean critters until I built my body back up. I figure with you being in the hospital a while, you got the same problem.” He started toward the door. “You might cut yourself some slack, son.” He continued toward the door.
“You know my name. What’s yours?” Zach called out.
“Ollie Morton. I’m foreman here.”
“Thanks.” Zach closed his eyes and shook his head. Was he feeling so sorry for himself that he couldn’t see the obvious?
“Did Ollie hit it on the head, Lord?” Zach asked when Ollie had left. As he thought about the foreman’s advice, Zach realized he may not have been thrown by a bull, but he might’ve stumbled onto the truth.
Sophie walked back from stabling Brownie, the small chestnut mare they used with the younger children.
Other riders were exiting the arena and the chatter of happy voices surrounded her. There would be no other lessons today and all the horses needed to be unsaddled, watered and fed.
There were two other hands to help with the horses, but they needed more help. Sophie’s boss, Margaret, couldn’t help anymore since her stroke six weeks ago, and Margaret’s children wanted nothing to do with the facility.
Sophie worked for twenty minutes, putting the horses in the corral on the east side of the barn. Each of their stalls needed to be mucked out, and fresh water, feed and hay put in each one. The large metal building had two main halls that ran parallel. Stalls were on either side of the hall and an enclosed tack room stood at the far western end of the building closest to one set of large double doors. At the end of each hall was another set of double doors leading to the outside corrals.
She tried not to think, but went on automatic with the chores. She prayed under her breath, asking the Lord for wisdom and to comfort Zach’s heart.
“Sophie, I’ve finished. So has Marty,” David Somers called out. “You want me to put the horses back in their stalls?”
“No, go on. I’ll see to it.”
He nodded and disappeared.
Each of the horses had earned an extra treat and praise for their performance today. She wished Ollie was still here, but with her encouragement he’d gone to the hospital to see Margaret.
Sophie put new hay in Sam’s stall and walked to the tack room to put up the lead ropes she used. Sitting on a bale of hay was Zach. In his hands he held one of the bridles. Those strong hands worked over the leather, cleaning it.
Sophie stopped and stared at him. “You’re still here?”
“I am.”
Now what? Zachary McClure had a way of rattling her that no other man had. She had no trouble dealing with the soldiers in her unit or her patients. None of them had this effect on her of making her stomach flip-flop. She tried to ignore the feeling.
Zach’s hands stilled. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened this afternoon.”
He hadn’t been the only one. She’d played the scene over and over in her mind, wondering what she could’ve done differently. She knew that Beth had worked weeks to get Zach here, and then to have him trip in the middle of the ring… She wanted to run over to him and help him up, but she knew he wouldn’t appreciate it. He’d been rodeoing since he was in middle school and had been on track for a championship rodeo buckle before he joined the army.
“This afternoon with Andy has been the best afternoon I’ve had in a long time.” He closed his eyes, and a satisfied smile curved his mouth. “I wanted to get up on Sam myself and ride.” His wistful smile nearly brought her to her knees. “It’s a dream for me.”
Sophie held her breath. There was hope here.
He opened his eyes and his gaze met hers. “Beth told me you wanted to start a program for wounded soldiers.”
“That’s true. One of the guys I treated when I was a medic in Baghdad was a double amputee, losing both his arms. But when I saw him riding at the stables near Walter Reed with such joy on his face, I knew what I wanted to do.” There’d been a certainty in her heart she knew God had given her. “I knew Margaret had started a therapy group here. She and I talked about expanding the program to include vets, also. We wanted to approach the army to see if they would use our program for their wounded vets.”
He nodded and went back to working the cloth over the bridle.
There was more she wanted to say to him, she knew, but she didn’t know how to bridge that gap. “Want to help me bring in the horses for the night? Ollie’s off visiting Margaret, the ranch owner who’s in the hospital, and the rest of my help has left.”
His head came up and she read hunger in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll help.” He hung the bridle on a hook beside the other tack, placed the rag in the bin below and grabbed his cane.
As he walked to the door, Sophie saw flickers of the old Zach she knew. Her nerves danced with excitement and hope.
“Lead the way, Miss Sophie Powell.”
“That’s Lieutenant Powell.”
“I outrank you. I was a captain.”
“A smart officer listens to his subordinates who know more than he does.” The instant the words left her mouth, she wanted to snatch them back.
His mouth curved into a smile. “You’re right. A smart officer listens to his men.”
“And you’re going to listen to me?”
He nodded. “You’re the expert.”
“Smart move.”
“Finally,
