She Can Hide (She Can #4)(9)

Ethan ran a hand through his damp hair. Snowflakes drifted down around him. “Sorry, guys. You’re going back to school next week, Mom’s going on vacation, and I don’t have the time or money for two horses. In case you don’t remember, horses are pricey pets and needy as needy gets. We can’t keep them.”

“If you say so.” Cam nodded with a grin. He draped the horse blanket over the stall door.

“I mean it.” Frustrated, Ethan watched the horse’s muscles tense. “Careful.”

The bay turned its rump to Bryce.

“You need to be patient.” Ethan slipped into the stall. “You’re going to get kicked.”

Ethan stood opposite the horse’s shoulder and waited. The animal sniffed and turned toward him. He had the halter changed a minute later.

Bryce’s mouth tightened in frustration. “I need to be patient. How about giving me three minutes before you step in?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Ethan held the horse still while Bryce backtracked to pick up the blanket. He handed the old halter to Cam, who dropped it in the garbage can. “What did Ronnie say?”

Bryce kept his voice soft as he eased the blanket over its back. “We should give them small amounts of hay. The vet and farrier will be out tomorrow. That’s about it.”

Ethan rubbed the bay’s neck. The animal nuzzled his jacket. All the Hales had a way with animals matched only by their weakness regarding the same. Cam was right. Every creature that had managed to wander, crawl, or limp onto the property over the decades had found a forever home. But things were different now.

“We have to call them something.” Cam opened a bale of hay. “How about Google and Bing?”

Ethan left the stall. “How about Roan and Bay?”

“Those are lame names.” Cam gave each horse a scant few handfuls of hay.

“They don’t need awesome names because they aren’t staying.” As Ethan walked away, his brothers were still arguing—and ignoring him.

“Cinnamon and Spice.”

“Oreo and Cookie.”

“We are not naming these horses,” Ethan said over his shoulder and rolled the heavy wooden door closed. The firm thud of wood on wood punctuated his statement.

Before going into the house, he retrieved his soaked uniform from the truck and salted the walkway and the steps that led up to the deck. If his mother went out to feed the birds in the morning, he didn’t want her to slip.

He left his coat, boots, and wet clothes in the mudroom. The Christmas tree glittered as he passed the living room. He stepped into the kitchen and salivated at the thick, rich scent of Yankee pot roast. The big meal was a sign his mom’s new rheumatoid arthritis medication was working. She pulled a plate from the oven. Dressed in slim jeans and a bulky blue sweater, she looked almost frail. The weight she’d lost when his dad died had stayed gone. But her shoulders were straight, her chin high, and her beige-blonde hair never showed a strand of gray. Nothing short of a natural disaster would cause his mother to miss her monthly appointment at the beauty salon.

Ethan leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Christmas was three weeks ago. Don’t you think it’s time we took the decorations down?”

“I suppose.”

But Ethan knew he’d be doing it alone after she left for her sister’s house next week. His dad had suffered his massive heart attack while dragging the tree out five years before.

She waved him toward the round oak table. “How are those poor animals settling in?”

“Fine.” Ethan’s butt hit the chair hard, his leg muscles suddenly deciding they were exhausted.

“I saw Ronnie unload them earlier.” One-handed, Mom slid a dish in front of him. Joint damage permanently curled the fingers on her left hand. A cleaning service came in once a week to do the heavy housework, but his mom loved to cook for her sons. “Be careful, dear, that plate is hot.”

“Cam and Bryce took care of them.” Ethan shoveled meat, potatoes, and carrots into his mouth while his mom chattered about the animals’ arrival. “You didn’t go out in this weather, did you?”

“Just for a minute.” She set a basket of biscuits at his elbow. “Do you need more gravy?”

“No, thanks.” Ethan slathered butter on a biscuit. “How’s the packing going?”

“Fine.”

“I bet you can’t wait to see Aunt Julie.”

Mom smiled. She hadn’t seen her sister since last winter. “You’re right. I’m excited, but I hope we get those ponies straightened out before I go.”

Uh-oh. He had to keep her away from the horses until she left. A week was more than enough time for her to get attached.

“Chances are Ronnie will move them before that.”

Her eyes dimmed. “Probably for the best.”

But didn’t Ethan feel like crap? His mother loved nothing more than to care for an animal in need. Bring on the injured dogs, starving cats, and birds with broken wings. Their barn had served as a wildlife rehab center for most of his childhood.

“It’d be nice for them to have a family with kids,” he pointed out.

“You’re right.” She nodded, watching him with patient blue eyes. “What else happened today?”

As if she didn’t already know about the accident. The chief’s secretary, Nancy, would have called his mom to let her know that Ethan was all right. A few other details likely slipped out during the conversation, but Ethan told her about the river rescue anyway. She used to be active. Now the disease kept her in and slowed her down.