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breeding arena.
    She then put to practice the technique she’d learned from both her dad and uncle— called patience. For several minutes she stood ten or so feet away from the stud. He finally became curious about the handout she had offered and slowly came toward her until he got close enough for her to slide the halter over his face. Patience and persistence paid off— virtues both Dad and Uncle Lou repeated to her time and again.
    It was difficult to lead Loco because he knew the mare wasn’t too far away. She could’ve used a chain right about then, to have laced through the halter— it would’ve helped to control his unruliness. He pulled on Michaela, who felt as if all the strength had gone out of her: despair taking hold and not letting go.
    They made it down to a set of corrals, but a mare and foal were too close by and she knew they’d have to be moved. She released Loco into the corral, not having any other choice, then went about maneuvering the mare and foal out into the pasture. She hoped she’d be able to get a hold of Bean and tell him to get to the ranch ASAP, because Cyn couldn’t take care of the horses. If she couldn’t reach him, she’d have to come back over that evening, put all of the horses back where they belonged and feed them.
    After making sure the animals were okay, she walked to her truck. Bean stood there leaning against Uncle Lou’s old green Chevy work truck, which she knew he allowed Bean to drive just around the ranch. He didn’t look well at all.
    “Um, hello, Miss Michaela. A policeman told me I had to stay right here because something bad happened to Mr. Lou. What happened? Do you know what happened?” He wrung his hands. “Why are the policemans here? What happened to Mr. Lou? I got here and they were here. The police. They would not tell me where Mr. Lou is and they won’t tell me where Mrs. Lou is either. Do you hear that?” He pointed to the barn. “The horses keep crying and they sound hungry. I want to feed them. Where is Mr. Lou?”
    She reached out and touched his shoulder. He shrank away from the contact. “Bean, Lou had to go to Heaven today and he’s not coming back.” She nearly choked on her own words.
    “Why did he go there?”
    “Listen, I know this will be hard for you to understand, but Lou won’t be back. Heaven isn’t a place where we go on vacation. It’s a place where we go when . . .” She bit the side of her lip, then sighed and finished what she was saying, “We die. Heaven is a place where we go when we die, and Lou died this morning.”
    “I don’t believe you.” Tears sprung up in Bean’s eyes as Michaela recognized that he realized she was telling him the truth. “I want him to come back.”
    “I know. Me, too.”
    He wiped sweat from his graying brow. Bean was probably about fifty but looked a lot older. Hard years in the sun had weathered him with deep crevices on his face, and what hair was left on his head was completely gray.
    Someone cleared his throat behind her. “Ms. Bancroft?”
    She turned around to see Detective Davis. “Yes?”
    “I need to speak with Bean here, now. I’ll be in touch shortly. You can go on home. Mrs. Bancroft is resting, so I’ll be stopping by your place or giving you a call in the next few hours.”
    “Sure. Okay. Bean if you need anything, please ask me.”
    Bean didn’t respond, but rather stared blankly, tears still streaming down his face. She didn’t know if he was going to be all right.
    As she pulled out of the ranch she looked in her rearview mirror to see a distraught-looking Bean talking with the cop. She prayed Davis would go easy on him.
    By the time she made it out onto the road, her tears flowed freely again. She sucked in a breath and drove to her parents’ house. They had to be told.

 
     
     
     
     
    FIVE
    MICHAELA’S PARENTS LIVED FIFTEEN MINUTES away. She drove down the long gravel road bordered by barbed wire fence on either side, and overgrown grass and