Could Liane be coming back already? The buckskin gelding he had borrowed lifted his head and neighed loudly. When the greeting was answered, Jake knew the animal ahead must be one of the buckskin’s stable mates. Pointing his flashlight down the trail ahead, he called, “Liane?” His heart sank when the riderless pinto emerged from the dark. Jake urged his mount forward, then leaned over to catch the mare’s trailing reins. “Liane! Where are you?” His words echoed through the woods, mingling with the thin smoke. Rather than the answer that he hoped for, the sky flashed white, and thunder shook the air. With the pinto squealing and struggling to escape, his own horse fought for his head, clearly planning to join the mare in a run for the safety of the stable. His balance hampered by his prosthetic leg, Jake had a hell of a time convincing both animals that he, and not their flight instinct, was in charge.
