Chapter One

      Charlotte Fitzgerald might be a big-animal vet, schooled to remain unemotional when things go bad, but the scene in front of her sent a chill of misgiving through her despite the Idaho midsummer’s day. She was facing seven critically ill horses who had found their way into a paddock adjacent to a well-known riding academy at the height of summer-camp season. On her right were a dozen young steeplechasers, hoping and praying for the stray horses’ survival.

      Charlotte had spent a lot of years praying as a child. Wishing her mom hadn’t died shortly after giving birth to her. Hoping her father would become the kind of dad every child wanted and needed.

      But her Mama did die and her prayers regarding her father went unanswered. As a result the intuitive horsewoman and veterinary surgeon learned to stand on her own two feet. For now that was enough.

      “That one needs to go down.” Braden Hirsch had been the only local farm-animal vet until Charlotte rolled her mobile-veterinary-clinic van into town less than forty-eight hours before to fulfill the terms of her uncle’s will: if she spends a year helping to keep Pine Ridge Ranch solvent, she would inherit 25 percent of the ranch’s value next summer. She’d give the mixed horse and sheep venture free veterinary care as needed, but right now her focus was here, watching the crusty vet perform a half-hearted medical triage on the depleted animals.

      She’d intended to meet Dr. Hirsch later today, a polite gesture. One professional to the other. He was in his sixties, according to the internet, and maybe considering retirement.

      Only here they were, caught at a scene of horrific neglect and tragic circumstances, and she was about to make the whole thing worse by disagreeing with him.

      He jerked a thumb toward a hobbling chestnut gelding. “Too far gone.” Then he waved to a group of three miserable creatures that were huddled together. “The palomino