Have Mercy - Christina Lee Page 0,36

her friends as frequently, we asked for help.”

“And you got Dr. Barnes?” I asked, still marveling at all he’d just shared.

He snickered. “Not right away. At first we tried talk therapy. But then we were told other forms of therapy seemed to work wonders for certain issues.”

“Really?” Who knew? But it made sense, especially with kids. Who wanted to sit in a boring room and talk to someone? I had a hard enough time as an adult. Suddenly I was curious about it all. “What is equine therapy supposed to do exactly?”

“I guess when you have anxiety, it helps to form a bond with someone—or in this case, something—to build trust. But slowly, through directed tasks or something like that. Not sure I totally understand.” He motioned to his daughter, who was now helping take the saddle off. Seemed like such a simple task, but it obviously had a point to it. “Dr. Barnes believes in using rescues because in many cases the horse has trouble with trust too.”

I glanced back at them and noticed how Ainsley was softly cooing to Piper as she offered her an apple slice, and then kissed her soundly on the nose.

“Ainsley loved the mares from the ranch as much as I loved the horses I’d been raised around, before Rocket,” Kerry said, and I remembered Sienna mentioning that horses could live up to thirty years unless they got an injury or a disease. “But for therapy, Dr. Barnes believes in using horses her clients aren’t familiar with. That way both have to rely on new instincts.”

I found that fascinating. “Makes sense the way you explain it.”

“We’ll see.” He turned his attention back to his daughter, and I didn’t want to intrude any more than I already had or overstay my welcome. So I turned in the direction of the silo and was about to tell him I’d catch him later when George walked into my view, leading a large—almost grand—horse that immediately snagged my attention. His shiny coat was a chestnut-red color, his ears twitched as if he was hyperaware of his surroundings, and his eyes seemed kind, if a bit wary.

Since when did I ever care what a horse looked like, let alone how they were responding to their environment? But I felt captivated, unable to draw my gaze away, like I was hypnotized or something. As they got nearer, it dawned on me that he must be the new rescue I’d heard about.

12

Kerry

I’d been standing near the paddock, catching the tail end of Ainsley’s session with Dr. Barnes, who had just returned from a week-long competition; not only was she a therapist, but also a top equestrian in the state. She had slowed down in recent years and only competed occasionally now, but in her heyday, she was renowned. I’d heard her name thrown around here and there since I was a kid, and it was probably one of the reasons my parents were impressed the first time they’d met her and had immediately given their blessing on her work with Ainsley. Not that I needed their blessing when it came to helping my daughter, but somehow it eased the burden when Dr. Barnes explained to them why Ainsley might’ve developed some of her issues. Otherwise, they might’ve protested the very idea of therapy. Just like they did other ideas they didn’t quite understand, like my sexuality.

They had started sessions this past spring, and we’d detected some differences in Ainsley since then. She had certainly taken to Julian, a virtual stranger, and that seemed new, so I was being cautiously optimistic. I’d noticed the same at the ranch when random neighbors would stop by before or after dinners. She used to stick closer to us, but last weekend she readily went outside to play with her cousins and the neighbors’ kids, as if she’d forgotten she was supposed to be on her guard. We’d take any little victories we could get, and Dr. Barnes was fantastic with her. We couldn’t have asked for a more compassionate therapist, which was the exact thing we all needed. She didn’t even bat an eyelash at our family history or living arrangement, and that was a relief all its own.

I was so intent on watching Ainsley groom her horse—because no doubt she’d drill me about it later—that I didn’t hear Julian walk up to the paddock after his lunch. But I did recognize his warmth and the pressure of his shoulder as he settled beside me