NITA TRIED TO SEE AROUND Heathcliffe but, between him and Noire, all she could see was a pair of black boots tucked into the back corner. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911. Then she called the ranch’s barn hand, Jose, who lived nearby, and asked him to come over and deal with Noire.
Heathcliffe calmed Noire and managed to get the halter over his tossing head. Once he had the lead rope attached, he led the horse into the aisle.
“I’ll walk him outside until somebody comes to relieve me. See what you can do for Max in the meantime.”
“Max?” Nita dodged around him and ran into the cell. “Max, what happened? Did you get trampled? What were you doing in here?”
His face was paper white. His longish, dark hair was matted on one side with blood and his shoulder and chest were covered
