Page 49 of A Cowboy to Call Her Own

“What did he say?” Asher asked.

“He told me Derby Dreamer was just adjusting to his new training schedule,” Owen explained. “And I would understand when I’d been here longer and had more experience with performance animals at this level.”

Perhaps. Yet, the concern on Owen’s face was genuine. Not only that, Owen proved he was capable and attuned to the animals over the past few days when Asher had been working closely with him.

“Clearly, your feeling is bad enough to have you out here waking us up when you should be sleeping,” Big E mused.

“No, sir, can’t ignore that,” Asher said and stepped into the bathroom.

Minutes later, they piled into Owen’s truck and drove to the stables. Inside the twos’ stable barn, it was not Derby Dreamer that caught their attention. It was Starcaster. The colt’s lip was curled, and he swung his head toward his abdomen as if to bite it. Beside Starcaster, Kentucky Ember eyed his flank. Asher was instantly alert. Unlike the others, Derby Dreamer kept his head down and stood still. Too still.

Asher had seen this before years ago in his mother’s favorite horse. When Asher had been too young to understand. His mom had been taking Asher for a ride, but they’d found her favorite mare rolling in the pasture. And the afternoon took a bad, unforgettable turn. Asher had not been able to help his mom or her horse back then. But he could do something now.

His gaze collided with Big E’s and Asher blurted, “Colic.”

Big E nodded and peered into the stalls across from Derby Dreamer. “We need Doc Julia.”

Asher pointed at Owen. “Get Doctor Eisler on the phone. Keep calling until she picks up.” Asher stepped into Starcaster’s stall and grabbed a lead rope. “Then get Edie. We need more calm hands.”

Owen greeted Dr. Eisler, set the call on speaker and handed his phone to Asher, before he rushed outside.

Big E and Asher worked in tandem, following Doc Julia’s instructions, moving from one stall to the next. They recited vitals, pulse and breathing rates and checked coats for sweating. Owen, Frannie and Edie arrived, and each got assigned the care of a horse. Asher was leading Starcaster back into his stall after a slow walk when Doc Julia arrived and began checking on the horses.

Joe and his second named Elliot came into the stable barn not long after. Neither one looked overly pleased. Asher did not have the time or patience to deal with their pique at not being called in sooner. Doc Julia determined Starcaster needed to be taken to her veterinarian clinic in town as soon as possible. Big E and Asher were occupied loading the colt into the trailer they attached to Walter’s truck as quickly and safely as possible. Then leaving Doc Julia to tend to the other sick colts, Big E and Asher drove Starcaster into town.

A while later, with Starcaster in the hands of Doc Julia’s capable staff, Asher and Big E headed back to Walter’s truck. Asher was barely out of the clinic’s parking lot in town when his phone rang. He checked the name on the screen and answered, “Joe, tell us what you’ve found out.”

“It looks like it was a feed mix-up,” Joe said, his voice calm over the truck’s speakers. “As best Elliot and I can tell it was a delivery error. Elliot is already looking into it with Cedar Post Farm Supply.”

“That’s not our usual vendor,” Asher said. That much he knew from the invoices he had filed in Walter’s office from Hoof and Harvest Supply dated for the past five years.

“The special blend was on backorder at Hoof and Harvest,” Joe explained. “Elliot researched other supply houses nearby and found one with the feed blend in stock that we prefer.”

“That was lucky,” Asher allowed.

“I’m fortunate to have Elliot,” Joe said instantly. “Elliot has stepped in as if he’s always been here and hasn’t missed a beat. And I know it hasn’t been easy what with everything going on, but thankfully Elliot hasn’t hightailed it out of here yet.”

“What about the rest of the twos? Any news from Doc Julia?”

“Fortunately, Derby Dreamer, Foxhall Wind and Kentucky Ember seem to have milder cases of colic,” answered Joe. “Lucky, that. Their training can get back on schedule within a few days.”

“As long as Doc Julia clears them,” Asher cautioned. “Not before.”

The other end of the phone line was quiet. Finally, Joe said, his words serious and solemn, “Asher, you do realize what is at stake here, don’t you?” There was a rustling, then Joe spoke again. “You do know what we do. You haven’t been gone so long you forgot what made these stables.”

Racing built the stables. Racing was the reason. Asher ground his teeth together. “I know what’s on the line.” The stables needed wins. Quickly. Anything to help temper the looming doping investigation.

Joe continued, “Then you know full well why these horses must race in the Rising Star Classic this coming weekend.”

“I won’t risk any horse’s health or safety for a possible first place finish,” Asher said, his resolve firm and true.

“I don’t believe it’s your call to make,” Joe said evenly. “I have been here for the long haul. I know what is best for these horses and this stable.”

And Asher did not. That was implied. It might have been Walter talking now to Asher, so similar did Joe sound. The truth was Joe was not wrong. Joe had been there while Asher had been away. But Asher was here now. And like it or not, Asher had a stake in all of this, too. “Let’s not make any decisions right now while we’re still in the thick of things. We’ve got time to let the horses recover.”

“Looks like we understand each other,” Joe said and hung up.

Asher understood Joe was not on his side.