A Convenient Proposal(33)

“Now he’s got a piece of board in his chest. My job is to get it out and sew him up good as new.”

“Do you think you can?”

“Maybe.” He pulled in a deep breath. “If we all pray hard enough.”





Chapter Six





Arden didn’t know what to expect as she followed Griff into the barn. She only hoped she didn’t do anything to distract him from the problem at hand.

A woman stood waiting in front of a stall, her face as white as the T-shirt she wore.

“Thank God.” She grabbed Griff’s arm with both hands. “I gave him the ace, like you said. But he’s been pretty quiet overall. Didn’t give me any trouble about walking up here.”

“Good.” Griff slid back the bolt on the stall door. “Let’s take a look.”

The stallion stood in the center of the large space, motionless except for an occasional flick of his tail. He was huge and muscled, with a glossy, dark brown coat, black mane and tail, and white on his feet and nose. Right now his head hung low and his eyes were nearly closed. His breathing sounded loud in the silence.

A large towel had been clipped around the horse’s neck and chest. Griff removed it, and Arden clapped both hands over her mouth to keep from crying out. There wasn’t much blood, but the exposed muscles and the ragged end of a board protruding from the stallion’s chest made a gruesome sight.

Griff, however, surveyed the injury with a calm detachment, squatting in front of the animal to get a close look. He lifted the stallion’s lip and pressed a finger to the gum, put a stethoscope against his side and listened to several different places for quite a long time. Then he left the stall.

“He’s doing okay,” he told the owner. “His vital signs are good and he hasn’t lost much blood. His lungs and heart don’t appear to have been touched. But I don’t want to subject him to a forty-five minute trailer ride with that board in his chest. So we’ll just take it out here.”

The woman nodded. “I scrubbed the walls and floor of the wash stall with bleach while I was waiting for you.”

“Excellent. Walk him down there slowly while I get some equipment.”

Unlike his usual lazy strides, the steps Griff took back to the SUV were quick and purposeful, as were his movements when he got there, selecting the equipment he would need.

“It’s better than it could have been,” he told Arden as she stood to one side. “But that board’s in deep. The real challenge will be to remove it without leaving any splinters behind.”

“I can’t believe the horse is so calm. Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Horses can be amazingly stoic, especially when their legs aren’t involved. But the owner gave him a sedative while she waited. That’s the ‘ace’ she mentioned—acepromazine.”

“Ah.” Arden couldn’t resist asking the next stupid question. “Is there anything I can do?”

He glanced up, his blue eyes smiling. “Thanks, but I think we’re okay. I’ll let you know if I need something.”

The stainless steel tray holding his equipment rested on a stand with wheels, allowing him to push it down the barn aisle to a large, well-lit area where Rajah now stood on black rubber mats.

“I’d like to keep his head up,” Griff said. “So we’ll put on this padded halter and link it through there.” He nodded toward a chain suspended from the ceiling. “I don’t think he’ll notice, as zoned out as he is.”

In another few minutes, Rajah stood nearly upright, with sheepskin lining around his nose holding his head in a more natural position.

“Ok.” Griff rubbed his hands together, then picked up an oversize electric razor from the tray. “Time for a haircut.” He bent and began to shave Rajah’s chest.

Arden took the moment to glance along the barn aisle, which looked as clean and neat as a human dwelling. She noticed a low bench against the wall near the end, and went to bring it back.

“Perfect,” he said, sitting down without pausing in his work.

“I should have thought of that,” the owner said, standing with her hand on Rajah’s back. “Sorry.”

Arden shook her head. “You’ve got enough on your mind.”

The drone of the shaver seemed to go on forever, as Griff cleared a wide area of hair around the puncture, coming closer and closer to the torn edges. Finally he bent in and, with small, deft strokes, clipped hair from the jagged rim.