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there’s no opportunity in Flagstaff. Do you know how many Northern Arizona U PhDs are waiting tables there because they just can’t make themselves leave? And God knows there aren’t any rich horse breeders looking for help on the reservation. Nah, this is pretty, around here, and close to family, and Nathaniel is good people and he’s offering me a terrific opportunity to help grow his business. How’d you end up here?” he asked. And then he bit into his sandwich. He chewed a bit, then winced and made a face.
    She couldn’t help it—she laughed and covered her mouth with her hand.
    “How do you eat this?” he asked.
    “I like it,” she said, still laughing. “Give it to me. Eat nuts, that’ll hold you awhile.”
    “So?” he asked, passing the sandwich back.
    “So my grandma died and a few years later my grandpa heard through a friend that the feed company was for sale and he thought he could make it work. He’d always wanted his own business. And it was just him and me, so…”
    “Where are your parents?” he asked.
    “Anyone’s guess,” she answered, filling her mouth again.
    He let her chew. He piled nuts in his mouth while she worked on her mouthful. When she had finally swallowed, he asked, “So, are you…?”
    “Grandpa and I moved here when I was thirteen and I think it was the right move,” she said, cutting off his next question. “Because I did well in school, made new friends, and although Yaz will never admit it, he’s making money on silage and hay.” She laughed and shook her head. “Don’t try to trick an old Hopi into telling you what he’s got in his pocket. He’s crafty.”
    Clay studied her for a moment, really wanting to know a lot more about her and fully aware she was keeping her answers impersonal. “I think maybe you’re crafty, too.”
    She smiled as though she had a secret. “I have been trained by the best.”
    She bit into her sandwich and the mare farted.
    “Well, that was nice,” Lilly said. “Very ladylike.”
    Clay laughed at her. “Music to my ears,” he said.He stood up. “I think she’ll be going in the trailer real soon. I think what you call that in veterinary medicine is progress .”
    Lilly hated the idea of ending the conversation even if it was getting a little close for comfort for her. “Shouldn’t you wait until you’re sure that blockage clears?”
    “As long as she’s not in pain and there’s progress, I’ll be more than happy to hose out the trailer when I’m back at the clinic.” He stood and went to the mare, took the lead rope and led her to the fence. He pulled a small wire cutter out of his back pocket and made fast work of the barbed-wire fence. Once cut, the wire sprang away and gave them an exit. Why worry about the pasture’s security now? The owners had clearly fled.
    But he turned toward Lilly. She cradled all her picnic stuff in her arms—nuts, remaining sandwich, bottles…. “That was so nice, Lilly,” he said. “So nice that you’d worry about the horse and come to be with her. And so nice that you’d share your meal with me.”
    “Even though it was a mushroom sandwich?” she asked.
    When he looked at her, his brows relaxed and his eyes seemed to darken. “Even though,” he said.
    Then he made clicking noises and said, “Come on, precious. Let’s get you outta here….” And he led her to the trailer.

Three
    C olic, a term that covered a litany of equine intestinal disorders from a bowel obstruction to twisted intestines, was one of the most common and dangerous illnesses in horses. If diagnosed early, treated quickly and if it wasn’t the critical variety that required surgery, the prognosis was typically good.
    Clay delivered the mare to the Jensen stable and reported improved gut sounds and even a little excrement in the trailer, evidence that there was some digestive action and the blockage might clear. Luckily for him, he was able to wash up, sit down to some of Annie’s fantastic pot