Page 74 of One in a Million
The lights in the stable were set to come on at dusk. Mounted on the rafters, they were dimmed to a twilight glow, like distant moons in the darkness.
When Lila had refused yet again to leave the mare, Roper had found a clean blanket in his office and spread it on the straw. “Get some sleep,” he’d ordered her gruffly. “I’ll be right here. I’ll wake you if anything changes.”
“Now who’s the boss?” she’d complained, half teasing. But after fighting sleep for a few minutes, she’d put her head down and drifted into exhausted slumber.
Roper checked the mare for any sign of fever. So far, nothing appeared to have changed, but Roper couldn’t be sure. On the Colorado ranch, hours from the nearest vet, he’d become skilled at doctoring horses with common ailments and minor injuries. But he’d never treated a horse in Baby’s critical condition. If infection were to set in, the humane solution would be to put her down. Lila would be heartbroken, but she knew the realities of owning horses. For all their size and strength, they were fragile animals, subject to a myriad of life-threatening issues.
As he settled in the straw, his back against the side of the stall, he could hear the mare’s breathing, shallow but regular. Lila lay within reach, curled on the blanket, her profile pale in the overhead light. The temptation was there, to lie down beside her and spoon her body against his—not so much in lust as in comfort. But Roper knew better. She was his newly widowed employer. And he had been alone for so long that he’d forgotten how to be tender with a woman.
He was bone weary after the long day. Despite his resolve to stay awake, his eyelids were drooping. Little by little, his resistance ebbed. Lulled by the sound of Baby’s breathing, he sank into sleep.
A coyote call, from somewhere beyond the stable, roused him with a jerk. He blinked and sat up. How long had he slept? It couldn’t have been long. Lila was still sleeping, curled like a child on the blanket.
But he could no longer hear the mare’s breathing.
He scrambled to his feet. Suspended by the sling, she stood with her head hanging down. Her eyes were closed. When he touched her there was no response, no breath, no pulse. In the silent darkness, Baby had slipped away. Her brave fight was over.
Heartsick, he bent over Lila and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Wake up,” he whispered.
Her eyes shot open. “Is it Baby? Is she any better?”
“Look at me, Lila.” He pulled her up and took her hands. “Baby’s gone. She passed away while we were both asleep. Her suffering is over.”
“No!” Stifling a sob, she moved to the mare’s head and kissed the beautiful white face. “She was the perfect horse, and so brave at the end. Oh, Roper, of all the horses, why did it have to be her?”
“There’s no answer to that question.” He controlled the urge to take her in his arms and hold her. If it happened, it would have to be Lila’s move—a move she didn’t make. She was tough and proud. Like his mother.
“I’ll call the vet first thing in the morning and tell him what happened,” he said. “And I’ll get help taking her down and burying her. You can choose the spot and let me know.”
“I’ll call the vet and make the burial arrangements,” she said. “You’ll be busy getting One in a Million ready for the shootout. That’s going to be a full-time job for the next few days.”
She gathered up the blanket she’d slept on, shook out the loose straw, and draped it to cover the mare’s body. Her stoic expression told Roper how much emotion she was holding back. “You may as well go home and get a few hours’ rest before the day starts,” she said.
“I think it’s already started.” He ushered her out of the stall and closed the gate behind them. “Come on, Boss, I’ll walk you back to the house.”
Roper hadn’t checked the time, but he estimated it was after midnight. The sky glittered with stars, the Milky Way spilling its galaxies across the peak of the heavens. He slowed his steps. They both needed time to settle their nerves.
“Why haven’t you ever married, Roper?” The question came out of nowhere. “You’re attractive, ambitious, kind. I can’t believe some woman hasn’t snapped you up.”
He shrugged, scrambling for an answer. “For one thing, I feel responsible for my family. With my stepfather disabled and the younger kids out on the circuit, somebody has to take care of the ranch. My mother can’t do it all.”
“But you could still do that and be married.”
“In this day and age, with so many options, I can’t imagine a woman choosing the kind of life she’d have with me. Why? Do you have somebody in mind?”
She managed to laugh. “Hardly. Just curious, that’s all.” Her gaze followed the trail of a falling star. “You said ‘for one thing.’ Is there something else?”
“It was a figure of speech, that’s all.”
“No, I can tell when somebody’s holding back. There’s something you aren’t telling me.”
“There might be. But I don’t talk about it.” Only Roper’s family knew about his tragic past. He’d never shared the story with anyone else, and he didn’t intend to share it now.
“Maybe you should talk about it. Nobody gets to be our age without some kind of track record. Besides, tonight I need a good story.”
Roper hesitated. Maybe she did need it. But it wasn’t a good story. It was a tragedy that he would carry with him for the rest of his life. “Maybe another time,” he said. “But not tonight.”
“Then why did you bring it up?”