“To you?” Slade looked mystified. “I didn’t think you were into horses all that much.”

“Not just any horse. That’s true. But Violet is special. I really love her a lot, and I think she’s coming to love me.”

“Huh.” Uncle Slade shook his head. “I can’t sell you that horse, honey. What if you never get her settled down?”

“I will. She’s a very sweet animal.” She told her uncle about all the times Violet had acted up but avoided ever touching Erin with her hooves. How the mare had balked on the lead but still minded her manners. “At some point, I believe she was a fabulous riding horse. Then, for reasons I can’t imagine, she was sold and ended up with someone who abused her. She’s just frightened of being handled now.”

Uncle Slade shook his head again. “Honey, a frightened horse is a dangerous horse. And I love you. I can’t sell you an animal that may go berserk and turn on you.”

“She’ll never do that.” Erin truly did feel confident of that. “She’s not mean. She’s just scared. Talk with Wyatt. He agrees with me, and he’s been letting me work with her all morning, every morning. Would he do that if he thought the horse might harm me?”

“He’d better not. I don’t want anything happening to you out there.”

Vickie spoke up. “Don’t immediately say no, Slade. At least talk with Wyatt before you reach a decision.”

Erin’s uncle nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to Wyatt. But don’t get your hopes up, Erin. If you were more experienced with horses, I might consider letting you have her, but as it stands, you’ve been on a horse only a couple of times. That doesn’t make you a horsewoman.”

“Maybe with Violet, I’ll learn,” Erin suggested.

* * *

Erin was close to tears during supper at the bunkhouse that night. She tried to converse with the men and laugh at their jokes, but her heart was breaking over the uncertain future Violet faced. Here on the ranch, she had a decent chance to recover from whatever had happened to her. If she was sold, there was no telling what kind of person she’d get as her next owner. If someone grew frustrated with the mare and mistreated her, it would be disastrous. Violet might never trust anyone again.

Erin was washing dishes when Uncle Slade walked into the bunkhouse. “Erin,” he said, “I need to speak with you.”

His tone sounded serious, and judging by his expression, he wasn’t there with good news. Erin dried her hands and followed her uncle outside. He looped an arm around her shoulders and led her across the ranch common. When Erin realized they were walking to Violet’s paddock, tension snapped her body taut. Once at the fence, Uncle Slade released his hold on her.

“Get in there. I want to see with my own eyes that she won’t hurt you.”

Erin was appalled. “But Uncle Slade, that isn’t how it works. I have to sit still until Violet decides to let me touch her. She’ll just act up and be a pill if I change that part.”