“I warned you that I’d have to put you in cuffs if you didn’t calm down,” the deputy said, and Brady wondered why he hadn’t already.
This is probably why Edgar called Tanya.
Brady left them to sort that out, while he and Tanya approached the horse.
“It’s okay,” she said in a soothing voice as he got to work cutting away the wires. She let the horse sniff her hand and then slowly moved her palm over its neck. “We’re going to get you freed and all fixed up, and I promise you’ll never have to go hungry or see that bastard again.”
Due to several bad experiences with the teens at Turn Around Ranch, Brady knew the law often had too many loopholes. Sure, in a perfect world, parents would get clean and give their children love and affection and learn not to hit them. They’d feed them and care for them in the way they deserved. Same with animal owners. But he was of the belief that some people had lost their chances.
Take Nash’s father. The system gave him chance after chance to beat the shit out of his son. Warnings were issued and ignored. Nothing changed. Even a hospitalization hadn’t been enough.
The lid Brady was doing his damnedest to keep on his anger rocked, the steam demanding escape but having nowhere to go.
Tanya continued cooing at the horse while she also cut at the wires around its legs and chest. This type of situation—as well as Nash’s case—made Brady want to be a one-strike kind of guy, but he’d also seen second chances that’d changed lives for the better.
Those people had to work at changing, though.
That was what it truly came down to. If people put in the work instead of waiting for a magic fix. Right now, he was choosing to believe in the good. Because this mare was going to get a second chance, and she definitely deserved one.
Eventually, he and Tanya managed to snap the last of the wires. They carefully guided the mare to the ground, and Brady immediately went to work on the biggest cuts.
“…not malnourished,” the abusive asshole yelled. “That’s how you train a horse. Haven’t you heard about how they trained Arabian horses by denying them food and water for several days to see if they’d still obey when their owner rang a bell? It’s the sign of a strong horse.”
Brady recalled the analogy on obedience and self-control. After days of deprivation, the horse was released with water in view. As soon as the animal began running toward it, the owner would ring a bell. If the horse didn’t stop and return, the horse was deemed unworthy.
A mixture of myth and religious indoctrination, most likely. Even if it were true, at that time, the horses were also used for war in the middle of the desert. These days, that kind of training was unnecessary and cruel, and he’d argue it was back then as well. There were much healthier, more effective ways to teach horses to obey.
Each irate throb of his pulse echoed through Brady’s head, and in order to maintain his focus, he exhaled, exhaled, exhaled as he treated the cuts the best he could. Meanwhile, Tanya tugged handfuls of alfalfa from the field the horse had been trying to get to and offered the clumps to the mare.
“Hey! That bitch destroys my fence, and now she’s stealing my crops! Why don’t you arrest her?”
Brady shot to his feet and whirled around, fists clenched into weapons of mass destruction. Time was up, the lid blowing clean off his anger. He took a step toward the despicable piece of shit. Let’s see how well he likes being trained.
A small hand wrapped around his upper arm. “Brady, don’t,” Tanya said. “He’s already going in the back of that cop car, and I can’t have you there with him. I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve for you to rearrange his face, but right now, this horse needs you. I need you.”
The fury that’d replaced his blood called for retribution, but as soon as he looked at Tanya, her eyes wide and imploring, her fingers around his arm, it calmed to a low simmer. She was right. The horse was more important, and as tempting as it was to give people a taste of their own medicine, it rarely did any good.
The sad truth was that life was full of disappointments, hardships, and inflicted hurts that couldn’t be healed quickly and simply. Hating it didn’t change things, so sometimes all you could do was put the past where it belonged and take on things one at a time.
Brady supported the mare the best he could as he and Tanya guided it into the trailer. The deputy had forced the lunatic owner into the cruiser, and if Brady ever saw the guy again, he doubted he’d be able to restrain his temper.
The deputy handed Tanya his card, Edgar thanked them for their help and asked to be updated on the horse’s health, and then they all headed to their respective vehicles.
As tough as Tanya was, this kind of thing got to her. Brady didn’t know many people it wouldn’t affect. Her face was pale, and now that the horse had been freed, the fight slipped out of her, sorrow rising up instead.
Tears filled her eyes as she studied the blood on her hands and arms. Mostly the horse’s, although she’d gotten a few gashes while removing the sharp wires. Brady wanted to tell her it was okay, but it wasn’t. Placing a hand on her lower back, he led her to her truck. He opened the driver’s side door for her, climbed in behind her, and fired up the engine.
They headed one way, and the cruiser headed the other.
“Why don’t you call Doc Mullens’s office and ask him to meet us at Bullhead Valley?” It needed to be done, and Brady hoped it’d give her a job to focus on. “I don’t want to move the horse more than we have to.”
She nodded, over and over, and dialed the number. But when a tinny voice picked up the line, Tanya extended her cell to him. “Can you? I…” A shaky breath shuddered from her lips, and the tears that’d bordered her eyes broke free.
Brady gave the receptionist the details and confirmed it was an emergency. As soon as he hung up, he wrapped his arm around Tanya, holding her as tightly as he could between driving and shifting.
* * *
Tanya straightened and wiped her cheeks as they neared the ranch. She didn’t want to look like she’d been crying, despite shedding plenty of tears. The drive home had been quieter than she remembered a ride ever being with her and Brady in the same truck.
“Pops isn’t going to be happy about me bringing home another injured animal,” she whispered. Most of the time, she was plenty happy to work with her parents. But having to ask for permission for things like this left her feeling like a stunted teenager, and this was her ranch, too. In theory.
Only her name wasn’t on the title. The only things she truly owned were the items in the tiny bedroom she’d never bothered updating, since she’d planned to move into one of the cabins eventually.
At least Brady had held her together for a few minutes so she could get out of the truck and be the kick-ass chick she needed to be. Even if that meant an argument with Pops.