Page 9 of Sweet Courage

“Sorry it took so long.” He paused just inside the barn, gaze moving from Alice to Sarah Sue to Cassie and then to the wheelbarrow. “I gave Clint some more juice and ibuprofen.”

“You didn’t get too close, did you?” Alice straightened. “Don’t need you taking to your bed too.”

“No ma’am.” The hint of a smile teasing one corner of his mouth was the first sign of a smile she’d seen and it made her happier than she would have thought.

If there was a time when Hanson felt less comfortable in his skin than he did right now, he couldn’t think of it. His gaze dropped to the pitchfork. “What do I do?”

“Help Cassie.” Alice pointed at the next stall with her chin.

Without hesitation he crossed the aisle, took hold of the spare fork leaning against the wall, and stepped into the stall. One quick look over the bedding, one at the tub, and at Cassie’s flushed cheeks and he wished he’d gotten here sooner.

The barn seemed unusually quiet. The few times he’d wandered inside there was usually a conversation going on between the hands or between man and horse. Considering the place had women working, the lack of conversation surprised him, unless… “What did I interrupt?”

One gelding stamped a hoof. Apparently, he had a few thoughts for Hanson.

“There’s a military dog that has been retired but it is not ready for rehoming. He’s had some hearing loss.”

“So he can’t work.” Knowing that without struggling to put the pieces together made him feel almost like himself again. Almost. Hands settling on the top of the fork handle, Hanson looked down at the shavings a second too long before lifting his gaze. “When does he arrive?”

Alice faced Sarah Sue.

“Maybe tomorrow?” Sarah Sue shrugged at Alice.

The family matriarch nodded. “Hopefully, he won’t catch the flu too.”

Without another word, the three women and Hanson returned to mucking stalls. One by one, as each stall was cleaned, the horses were returned to their abodes. Oddly, he could have sworn each one looked at their caretakers with gratitude for a clean home. That or they were subtly hoping for a treat. And since Alice gave each horse an apple or carrot depending on the animal’s preference, he wasn’t sure which of the two was the right assumption.

What he did know was that he wanted to help with the dog. Not that he knew a whole lot about training dogs, but he did understand how it felt to be counted on and unable to deliver. To hear words and not be able to find the appropriate response filed away in a battered brain.

Even though he had his doubts that mucking stalls or eating homemade pies would help his brain any, he wanted to make a difference in the dog’s life. No, he didn’t want to—he needed to. Maybe that was something his addled brain could manage.

Seated at the kitchen table, sliding a small red tile stamped with the letter E to the end of the word, Kat tapped the smooth wooden surface with the eraser end of her pencil. She’d been pleased to discover on their first visit that Mason had a good grasp of short vowels in short words. He had that rule down pat, so today she moved on to the next rule for longer words. “All right. Let’s look now. We have M-A-D. Mad. What happens when we add the bossy E to the end?”

Staring at the color-coded tiles, the young boy’s brow furrowed in deep concentration.

“Does the E have a sound?”

The boy shook his head. “The E is silent. But…” His gaze lifted to meet hers. “It makes the first vowel say its name.”

“Exactly.” Kat smiled at the boy, her heart doing a little jig when a pride filled grin beamed at her. These were the moments that made her love her work. Using the same pencil end, she pointed from left to right. “So if the A says its name, mad becomes…”

“Mm-ay-d. Made,” he repeated, the sappy grin back in place.

“Perfect.” Giving him two thumbs up, she swept the tiles aside and lined up K-I-T. “Now do this one.”

“Kit.”

“And with the E?” She slid the red tile to the end.

“Kite!” The kid was practically bouncing out of his seat. Success in reading was so rare for these kids that when a building block of words falls into place, the accomplishment was on par with winning an Olympic gold medal.

They worked a little longer building more confidence in his continued success when she decided best to quit before he tired out. Returning her learning aids to her phonics tool kit, she slapped the lid shut and stuffed it into her leather satchel.

“Mama said if I did good today, I could help brush the horses when we’re done.”

“You did better than good, you did great.” Slinging the heavy leather strap over her shoulder, Kat gave him a quick wink.

Following the boy out onto the back porch, the late afternoon air wrapped around her like a familiar old quilt. The difference being the usual hive of activity she’d find at the ranch had been replaced by an eerie stillness. Mason’s mom had filled her in on the flu sweeping through the ranch, and excused herself to help with the chores. Even though she understood why, the silence still felt heavy.