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tracks.
    Thirty
minutes later, with all the horses settled into their stalls, he poured out
grain into a variety of colorful plastic buckets, one for each horse. One
variety for the geldings, another for the mares and foals. A third type for the
two senior horses boarding there that needed special feed. He filled the final
bucket and rolled down the top of the bag in order to keep the feed fresh and
any opportunistic mice out. Grabbing each container in turn, he delivered the
evening meal, saving April’s pets for last.
    “Hold
her for me.” He waited for April to slip into the stall and grab the filly by
her halter before stepping inside. Miracle at once lifted her head and stepped
back, her eyes rolling with fear.
    April
stroked her neck and whispered to her, keeping a snug hold on the halter. “Why
don’t you let me?”
    He
shook his head. “The bucket’s heavy. Besides, she has to start getting used to
me sometime. Might as well be sooner rather than later.” His voice joined hers
in a quiet, soothing manner, aimed at quelling the obviously scared filly.
“It’s okay, pretty girl. I’m not going to hurt you. Just bringing your dinner
is all.” As he spoke, he inched along the front wall of the stall, keeping a
close eye on Miracle while ensuring the feed bucket stayed between him and her.
Finally, he stopped entirely, holding the container perfectly still. “I know
you’re hungry. Just give it a try.”
    Miracle’s
ears flipped back and forth as she shifted nervously in the confines of the
stall. Tension mounted, and then eased when he did no more than stand before
her. Her skin rippled now and again, but she made no move to lash out with
hooves or teeth. Instead, she watched him like a wild mare would eye a hungry
wolf.
    Mischief
had no such qualms. He lifted his head and tried to sneak some morsels off the
top.
    Dusty
grinned and glanced down at the mini for a split second. “I should have brought
yours first, huh?”
    The
small gelding whinnied as if in answer.
    Ever so
slowly, Dusty placed the bigger bucket in the holder, then stepped back to grab
the smaller sized one. He cleared the straw out of the front corner by the
entrance and set the container on the ground. Mischief wasted no time to dig
in.
    April
praised her filly, spent a few more minutes stroking her pet’s side as Miracle
sniffed the feed, took a tentative bite, then dug in with exuberance.
    The
click of a door closing announced April vacated the stall, allowing her horses
to eat in peace. “I’d count that as a small victory.”
    He
looked back, found Miracle eating heartily, and nodded briefly. “It’s a start.”
    “The
first step in healing,” she whispered with feeling.
    He told
himself she spoke of Miracle’s long road back to trusting people again. Yet, in
reality, her words brushed his very soul. Emotional scars ran deep. Some too
well engrained to ever overcome. He knew that for a fact.
     

Chapter Four
    Ben
whined, waking Dusty in an instant. Sitting up, he scanned the area, looking
and listening for what might have alerted the dog. Finding nothing, he laid
back down and stroked the dog’s coarse fur. Though the animal never missed
anything, Dusty wondered if Ben suffered from similar nightmares as his,
courtesy of war.
    They’d
been teammates in Afghanistan and Ben had saved his life and others more times
than he could count. He scented out explosives as well as sounded an alarm when
the enemy drew near. Trained for protection, Ben could rip into a man with a
simple command, yet he remained as playful as a puppy these days running around
Dusty’s stable.
    When
Dusty decided to put in his resignation to the Navy SEALs, his sole regret was
losing Ben. Only his luck held as the Navy decided, due to Ben’s advanced age
of eight years and his development of arthritis which affected his mobility, to
retire the service dog. Dusty immediately stepped forward to adopt Ben,
bringing him home.
    Home.
More like his family’s