At first Patricia didn't believe the two nearly hysterical girls. All the Rosewood horses had been sold at auction. Perhaps someone had tried to hide a horse after the stable had closed? She recalled chasing off one of the old Rosewood grooms she caught living in one of the stalls. His ominous parting words "I'll be back to collect what's mine" had given her a bad feeling. She had warned all the new employees to keep an eye out for him and any mischief he might be up to.

All thoughts of the mystery of ownership left her head when Patricia peered into the stall. The poor creature huddling in the dark was no more than a heap of bones. The young horse tossed her head in warning, clacking her teeth. She took a weak, stumbling step forward and nearly collapsed.

Patricia stepped back from the stall fighting to control her emotions. She looked at Katrina and Samantha. The girls clutched each other, desperation and fear on their faces.

"Mrs. Prescott," Samantha pleaded. "You've got to do something. You have to help her."
Patricia took a deep, calming breath and pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She dialed the veterinarian she had recently engaged to help with the stable. After briefly explaining the emergency, she flipped the phone closed.

"He's on his way," Patricia said, then turned from the girls before she lost control of her emotions and quite possibly her stomach.

Dr. Wells arrived within the hour and was led to Destiny's stall. He had never seen an abuse case so severe. The filly, about a year old, was nearly starved to death. She had numerous open sores covering her body, clearly from a previous beating, and she was lame in her right front foot.

"Patricia," he said. "Who did this? Where did this horse come from?"

"I have no idea, Arthur," Patricia replied, anxiously placing a hand to her face. "The stable was to have been cleared. The auction was nearly three months ago. I guess no one thought to open every stall door!"

Samantha stepped forward, placing a hand on Dr. Wells' arm to get his attention. "Please, Doctor," she said. "Please, can you help her?"

Dr. Wells turned to the young girl who had first escaped his attention. Looking down into her dark, saddened eyes tore at his heart. This was going to complicate things if he had to euthanize the horse.

"I'll try young lady," he replied. "But, she is very, very ill. We may not be able to save her. Sometimes the kindest thing is to let them go."

Samantha's eyes burned with the effort to control her tears. "But, you'll try?" she whispered. "She's lasted this long. She deserves a chance."

Dr. Wells turned to Patricia. "She's going to require around the clock care, Patricia. She's in such bad shape. I don't want to move her. Are you prepared to provide that?"

Patricia's face looked stricken. The opening of the stable was less than two weeks away and she was already behind schedule. Working night and day, she might just make it. Where would she find the time to nurse this sick horse back to health?

Katrina stepped forward and spoke for the first time. "We'll do it," she said. Samantha's agreement showed in her eyes.

"Now wait a minute you two," Patricia said. "This isn't a sick goldfish. This animal is suffering. It will require an enormous effort night and day. What will your parents say?"

"I'm not sure what my parents will say, Mrs. Prescott," said Katrina honestly. "But I know they will have to lock me in my room to keep me from coming down here to take care of her."

"Me too," agreed Samantha with determination. "We found her and we want to care for her."

"OK, OK," Patricia relented, throwing her hands up, the strain evident in her voice. "We'll work out the details later."

Dr. Wells sighed deeply and ran his hand over his face. "Alright," he said. "If you want to help, go find me some blankets, a bucket of warm water and a halter. Then get a clean stall prepared. We need to move her out of this filth."

Katrina eyed Dr. Wells suspiciously wondering if he was just finding an excuse to get them to leave. Patricia put her hand on Katrina's shoulder.

"Come along girls," she said. "Grab the barrow and we'll get some bedding. I'll search the tack room and office for clean blankets."

Dr. Wells watched Patricia and the two girls go, then peered back into the stall. Though weak, the filly watched his every move. He had no doubt, given the opportunity, she would try to exact a little revenge. Considering her current state he understood her feelings completely. It ceased to amaze him how casually some people inflicted cruelty on the animals in their care.

Patricia waved as Dr. Wells drove away under the Rosewood archway. One of the gates leaned sadly at odd angles. Patricia added one more note to her endless mental "to-do" list. With a sigh she looked over the instructions left by the veterinarian. Fortunately the filly was not badly injured, just desperately malnourished. Prognosis on the wounds was good, though some would scar. The future of her ankle was not clear. When her strength returned, Dr. Wells would x-ray and look for damage. What Patricia worried about the most was the filly's attitude toward people. Even in her weakened condition Patricia could see the fear and mistrust in the horse. As she recovered she could become dangerous, which brought her thoughts back to her two new helpers.

Katrina sat outside the Rosewood office, her head in her hands in exhaustion. Samantha was inside talking to her parents on the phone. The girls had worked tirelessly and followed all of the veterinarian's instructions. They proved themselves quite capable and very dedicated, but Patricia still worried. It would take an enormous effort to win the filly's trust. Working with troubled horses was not for novices. At least the horse had finally relaxed a little as Samantha and Katrina gently removed the filth from her coat.

Perhaps the girls could reach her, teach her not to fear people, though Patricia had no idea what she would do with the horse after she recovered. She had no papers or identification. The horse was clearly a Thoroughbred, probably one of the Rosewood crop from last year. The girls were bound to get attached…

"One problem at a time," Patricia muttered herself. "Lets see if she recovers first."

"Did you say something, Mrs. Prescott?" Samantha asked as she exited the office.
Patricia's focus snapped back to the moment. "Oh, no," she said. "Sorry, just talking to myself, I'm afraid. And since we'll be spending so much time together, how about you call me Patricia from now on?"

"Sure... Patricia." Samantha said.

"Now that we are all on a chummy first name basis, what did your parents say?" Patricia asked.

"Mum insisted on coming down to speak with you," Samantha sighed. "She's not too happy, but I think she understands."

"And yours?" Patricia asked as she turned to Katrina.

"Same," said Katrina. "I had to work on father a bit, but I can usually talk him into something if I really want to and Mum usually follows."

Patricia took a good look at both girls. "I believe you two could talk a tiger out of his stripes. You should both come with warning labels to protect the unsuspecting public."

Katrina's eye's twinkled, and Samantha covered her mouth to conceal a giggle.

"Well..." Patricia said arching an eyebrow as she looked at the veterinarian's instructions, "With this schedule from Dr. Wells, none of us will be getting much sleep."

"We understand," said Katrina with determination. "We haven't changed our minds."

"Alright then," said Patricia. "Lets go make another batch of mash while we wait for your parents. We've got another feeding in thirty minutes and you two need to learn how to do this on your own."

Katrina looked to Samantha, a silent agreement passing between them. They were determined to see this through.