3
The following morning I told Jimmy what happened with Argus—though I had to alter the story to leave Leo out of it—and asked him to nail more wood around Argus’s stall.
Thankfully, we only had a familiar group scheduled for today, and they could ride around the property without any guides. I helped them saddle the horses and sent them on their way before sinking to the ground. I pressed my back against the wall, and my eyes fixed on Argus’s door.
I had no idea what to do with him. My first error had been to allow him to come here. I wasn’t my grandma. I couldn’t “cure” a horse like she could. Even though she denied it, we all called her a horse whisperer. She was that good. And I certainly wasn’t.
“Just looking at him won’t fix him,” Jimmy said as he walked into the stable.
“I shoul
