Authors: Kelly Irvin
Figuring out how to forgive herself, well, that was a horse of an entirely different
color.
E
lijah tied the buggy reins to the corral railing not far from where a dark blue, dusty
pickup truck was parked. The vet’s truck, he supposed. He hoped. He shielded the sun
from his eyes with one hand so he could see Bethel more clearly. The strain around
her mouth and eyes apparent when he picked her up from the rehab clinic hadn’t eased
during the ride to his brother’s farm. Whatever had gone on at her physical therapy
session and the support group, she didn’t want to talk about it. Neither of them had
been in the mood to talk. His thoughts were on what the veterinarian would say about
Ned. The vet, an older man with thick glasses and a thicker salt and pepper beard,
hadn’t hesitated after Elijah explained the situation. He’d left a younger doctor
in charge of what sounded like a whole mess of barking dogs behind the front counter
and told Elijah he’d head to the farm immediately. Not to worry. It used to be the
Jensen farm. He’d visited there plenty, what with their horses, cattle, and sheep.
Not to worry
. Hard not to what with Ned’s listless stare, his whinny when he tried to move in
his stall, and the swollen leg with its angry, bloody gash. Ned was not only a living
creature, but one who made big contributions to the work they needed to accomplish
on this new farm, especially come spring. No point in worrying. Worrying accomplished
nothing. The doc would take care of it.
Elijah focused on Bethel. “You sure you don’t mind? I could’ve taken you home first.”
“Then you’d just have to turn around and drive back to our farm again after you came
here.” She waved away a bee that buzzed in her face. She had long, slender fingers.
Nimble with a needle. They would be gentle with babies. “I know you’re worried about
the horse. Go see what the vet said.”
Surprised at where his thoughts had gone, Elijah jerked his gaze from her hands. “Let
me help you down first. Katie will give you some lemonade and cookies. You look worn
out.”
“I’m fine. I’d rather go with you to see about Ned.” Her expression troubled, she
held out her arms. “If you hadn’t stayed so late at the house last night, if I hadn’t
brought you the cinnamon roll, maybe you wouldn’t have been on the road after dark—”
“Nee. Don’t be daft. Accidents just happen.” He said this to convince himself as much
as her. He didn’t want to believe anyone would intentionally run a man and his horse
off the road. He lifted her from the buggy and handed her the crutches. “The vet said
he would come directly here. He’s probably already taken a look at Ned.”
“Then let’s see what he has to say.”
Elijah would rather she not see the results of the accident. She already knew the
extent of his own injuries. But she looked resolute and he didn’t see any point in
arguing with her. They started toward the barn. Silas and Doctor Womack came through
the doors. From the look on Silas’s face, the news wasn’t to his liking. Elijah stopped
walking. He heard rather than saw that Bethel had done the same. “How is the horse?”
“Had to put it down.” Silas’s somber face matched the gruffness of his voice. “Nothing
to be done about it.”
Birds squawked and flapped from the oak trees that lined the drive. A cat shot across
the grass and disappeared into the meadow across the road. Bethel gave a small cry,
like a kitten’s pitiful meow. “Why?”
“Fractures in two places in one of his front legs, ma’am.” The vet transferred a leather
bag from one hand to the other and smoothed his ragged beard. “Horse was in pain.
It was the humane thing to do.”
“You couldn’t put a cast on his leg?”
“Missy, horses put sixty percent of their weight on their front legs. It’s not like
he can lay down until it heals. It’s not like we can put slings on ’em. He was in
terrible pain. Like I said, humane.”
Elijah sucked in air and worked to keep emotion from molding his features. “I suspected
as much.” He cleared his throat, embarrassed at the slight crack in his voice. “I
better get Bethel home then. I’ll come back and help with the burial. Doctor Womack,
I’ll take the bill.”
“I done got the bill.” Silas glowered at him. “My horse, my bill.”
“I was riding him when it happened.”
“Through no fault of your own.”
“Silas told me what happened.” Doctor Womack broke in. “I have to tell you, I don’t
think you belong on the highway. It’s meant for fast-moving traffic. Not a man on
a horse. This isn’t the nineteenth century.”
“You think what happened to the horse is Elijah’s fault?” Silas put his hands on his
hips and planted his boots in the dirt, oblivious to the chickens that had taken an
interest in the visitor. “He wasn’t riding down the middle of the road.”
“I think riding a horse on the highway at dusk with no reflectors is asking for trouble.
I think the horse paid the price.”
“I meant to start back earlier…” Elijah pondered the man’s face. He looked sincere.
He looked like his job took its toll on days like today. “We value our animals. We
need them to do our work. I wouldn’t intentionally endanger an animal.”
“You all could do with some reflectors like you have on the back of your buggies.”
Doctor Womack hesitated, his lips a thin line over his beard. “Give the people here
time.”
“Time for what?” Silas looked puzzled. Elijah’s brother was a staid man who spent
most of his time in the field. He didn’t see grays. Only blacks and whites. “We’re
not in any hurry for anything.”
“I’m just saying it takes them a while to warm up to strangers, but eventually they
do. If you’re decent folks. And you seem like decent folks.”
Bethel hadn’t said a word. Her face was white and her eyes red-rimmed. She had such
a soft heart. His throat constricted.
Stop it
. “Let’s go, Bethel. Time to get you home. Luke will wonder where we are.”
“I’m sorry.” She slid a step back from him, her crutches sinking into the gravel.
“It’s just one more thing, isn’t it?”
He wasn’t sure if the words were directed to him or to Silas. His brother didn’t answer.
He was a pragmatic soul. He would replace Ned come the next horse auction. Until then,
they’d make do.
“Jah.” Elijah moved past her, still grappling with the disappointment. “We’ll make
do.”
“There’s a car coming.” Silas’s tone held a hint of concern. “It’s a police car.”
“That would be the sheriff.” Doctor Womack cleared his throat. “I called him before
I came out.”
“Why?” Elijah kept his tone neutral. The vet had a reason. What, he couldn’t imagine,
but still a reason. “We don’t want to press charges against anyone. Even if we could
say who caused this.”
“I called him because you were involved in an accident. There were injuries. I’m concerned
about your treatment of animals.”
“Treatment of animals?” Elijah remembered the sensation when he hit the ground with
such force it rattled his bones and his teeth. “Both the horse and I were injured.
An accident occurred, but we didn’t cause it.”
“Not intentionally. I know that now. But when you told me the story at my office,
I felt an obligation to let the sheriff know.”
“An obligation?”
“Yes, an obligation.”
Elijah faced the car that rolled into the drive in front of the corral, dust billowing
behind it. He’d hoped never to talk to Sheriff McCormack again. From the look on the
sheriff’s face when he stepped from his car, he’d hoped the same thing.
Bethel swayed on her crutches. Her legs ached from the unaccustomed exercise earlier
in the day. It cost her to continue to stand, but she wanted to be here for this conversation.
If Elijah had his way, he’d shoo her into the house with Silas’s fraa, but Bethel
wanted to hear what the sheriff said. Surely he wouldn’t blame Elijah for what a speeding
car had done. This was a rural area. Surely people rode horses on the highway all
the time. Sifting through her memories of Bliss Creek she thought of the Englischers
who frequently brought their slow-moving farm equipment onto the highway to move from
field to field or farm to farm, but they never rode horses on the highway. They had
no need to do so. The horses weren’t transportation. They were used on the farm for
moving cattle or getting into the fields, but not often on the highway.
The memory of Shawn and his sad face when he talked about his parents’ divorce danced
in her mind’s eye. Sheriff McCormack might not be easy to deal with right now, but
he had reason to be cranky. She’d try to give him the benefit of the doubt. She should’ve
told Elijah about it, but Doctor Jasmine had made it clear that the conversations
in the group were to be kept among only the participants. Confidential, she called
it. Bethel mentally buttoned her lips and prepared to be kind.
Sheriff McCormack slammed his car door and started toward them, dark shiny sunglasses
hiding most of his face under his ball cap. He tipped the hat to her as if to acknowledge
her presence first, and then he moved on to Doctor Womack without speaking to Silas
and Elijah. No friendly greetings.
“What did you find?” Snapping the gum he chewed with vigor, he pulled a narrow notebook
from his hip pocket and a pen from his shirt pocket. “How’s the horse?”
He didn’t ask how Elijah had fared.
“Had to put him down.” The vet’s regretful tone matched his mournful expression. “Fractures
to the left front leg. He was a fine piece of horseflesh, but I had no choice.”
The sheriff’s gaze fixed on Elijah. “How did it happen?”
Elijah recounted the events without decorating them.
“You realize there’s a minimum speed limit on the highway.”
“Pardon me?”
“A minimum speed limit. You need to keep moving.”
“I wasn’t dillydallying. And there was plenty of room to pass me without hitting me.”
“Neither here nor there. The highway is meant for cars. If you’re going to impede
traffic, stay off it. I’d hate to see you lose another horse. Do you have a driver’s
license?”
“A license?” Elijah looked momentarily confused. They didn’t have licenses. They didn’t
drive motor vehicles. Bethel could feel his anxiety as if it were her own. This wasn’t
his fault, yet the sheriff seemed bent on making it an issue. “No. We don’t have licenses.
We don’t take photos and we don’t drive cars. No need for a license.”
“Have you ever studied the rules of the road?”
Elijah’s face turned beet red, but he didn’t lower his gaze. “I know the rules of
the road.”
“If you weren’t at fault, why didn’t you report it?”
“No need.”
“No need. You lost an expensive piece of horseflesh. You got insurance on him?”
“We don’t have—”
“Insurance. I remember. From the house. Your friend, what’s his name?” The sheriff
flipped through his notebook. “Luke. Luke Shirack.”
“No. No insurance. And we wouldn’t press charges, anyway.”
“I’m sensing a pattern here.” The sheriff adjusted the sunglasses on his long, sunburned
nose. Bethel didn’t like not being able to see his eyes. “I’m giving you fair warning.
Keep your animals off the road if you’re going to create a hazard with them. It’s
not fair to the animals. We don’t think highly of people who mistreat their animals.”
“We don’t mistreat animals.” Bethel couldn’t help herself. The gross exaggeration
of his charge filled her with an outrage she didn’t know she was capable of feeling.
Silas frowned and shook his head. Women were to be seen and not heard in these situations.
“Nobody treats animals better than Elijah.”
The sheriff’s sunglasses pointed her direction, but she couldn’t see if his gaze met
hers. A slow smile spread over his grizzled features. “For people who seem awful polite,
y’all are not much for introducing your womenfolk. Who might you be?”
Now she’d done it. She’d called attention to herself. “Bethel.”
“Were you present at this incident?”
He said
incident
like he meant to say
crime
.
“No.”
“Well, that’s a shame. We could use an eyewitness.” He waved his notebook toward Elijah.
“Consider yourself warned. Let the others know. I’ve read up on the issues caused
in other settlements. Use reflectors. Stay on the shoulder when cars pass. Don’t plant
yourself in front of cars, and you won’t have a problem.”