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Leah's Hope

By Carol Voss

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He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee:
For My strength is made perfect in weakness.
—2 Corinthians 12:9(KJV)
Chapter One
Aidan Forester climbed out of his GMC pickup just as the sunrise peeked over the ridge. The raw
March wind making him zip up his jacket, he surveyed Karl’s big white farmhouse for any sign of
movement.
It wasn’t like Karl to sleep in. But if he was still in the house, his Labrador retriever, Ranger,
would be setting up an ear-splitting ruckus, demanding to be let outside to greet Aidan with a
bunch of sloppy kisses.
No sound nor movement coming from the house, Aidan hunched into the wind and strode for
the barn. Passing the little log chicken house, he noted the fowl still shut inside from the night
before. Reasonable, considering it was barely daylight.
It was very unlikely anything was wrong like Elise suspected when she’d called from
Massachusetts. There could be a number of reasons she hadn’t been able to get her dad to answer
his house phone last night or this morning.
So, here Aidan was at the crack of dawn, making sure things were okay so he could ease
Elise’s mind. And his own, for that matter. Karl was not only his boss but a solid friend through
the years… the one who’d always understood Aidan in ways Dad never could.
And Karl was a young sixty. Healthy as an ox. More than likely, he’d missed Elise’s calls
because he’d had plans last night and had gone to the barn early this morning. The man did have
a life besides his veterinary clinic whether his daughter wanted to acknowledge it or not.
A cow mooed from the barn.
Approaching the looming red-painted structure, Aidan pushed open the people door and
walked inside. The pungent humidity of a full, closed-up barn in winter hit him hard.
Numerous cats immediately surrounded him, complaining noisily for their warm morning
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milk. Restless cows in their stanchions confirmed they were also hungry and still waiting to be
milked.
“Easy, ladies,” he said in as calming a tone as he could. “Karl? Ranger? You in here?”
Aidan couldn’t hear anything but the animals milling around, punctuated by moos from
several impatient cows.
Karl and his dog had to be outside. They must have needed to handle a problem right off the
bat this morning. Aidan strode down the barn aisle and slid open the livestock door, surprised by
llamas trotting away.
What were the llamas doing confined in the barnyard? Karl always let them roam with the
ewes to protect them from predators.
Then he heard it.
Barking.
Aidan looked up.
Llamas scattered.
A chocolate blur raced through the barnyard straight for Aidan. Barking frantically, Ranger
turned before he reached Aidan and ran back the way he’d come.
Adrenaline spiking, Aidan took off after the dog at a dead run.
Accountant Leah Moore took an automatic sip from her coffee mug and came up empty. Emerging
from her number haze, she peered into the thirty-two-ounce insulated vessel. Yes, her cup had run
completely dry, something it tended to do a lot now that she was buried in tax season.
She laid her glasses beside her computer in her home office and headed for the kitchen for a
refill. Her daily letter to Afghanistan stared back at her from the kitchen table.
She’d forgotten to mail Patrick’s letter. How could she be so careless to risk him being the
lonely soldier without any mail from home?
Could she still make it to the mailbox before the mailman? She glanced at the clock over the
sink. It was worth a try. Anything to avoid an unnecessary trip to town.
She dove into her faded red barn coat. Grasping the pink envelope to Patrick, she wrinkled
her nose at the two invitations beside it. How many days had it been since she’d promised her
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brother she’d send them? If only she could come up with a plan that didn’t involve Mother.
She sighed. Picking up the invitations, she made a deal with herself. Unless a better idea hit
her before she made it to her mailbox, she was going to commit to Nathan’s and mail the
invitations.
She let herself and her Border collie outside. Scrunching deeper into her coat against the
cutting wind, she took off jogging up her long gravel driveway, Captain blazing the way.
She squinted through the lens of March as she ran. Not a single blade of green peeked through
the sea of brown. She raised her gaze to the dignified oaks lining the driveway for a hint of swelling
buds softening the limbs. Not a bud in sight either.
As much as she loved her little farm, she had to admit Wisconsin in March looked almost as
bleak as the Texas countryside she’d deserted years ago.
She preferred the magical time of year when drifts of snow made the little farm sparkle. Or
when the oaks spread their majestic canopy protectively over the landscape, the shadows of their
rustling leaves playing with the angles of the house and softening its worn-around-the-edges need
for paint. Paint that wouldn’t make it into the budget anytime soon.
Aidan Forester's burgundy pickup turned into the driveway, squawking clamoring from pens
in the truck bed.
Leah was always happy to see Aidan, but what was he doing away from the veterinary clinic
on a workday with a very loud load of chickens?
He pulled beside her, the driver window whirring down. “Want a ride?” he hollered.
“Thanks, but I need the exercise,” she yelled back. “What’s with the chickens?”
“What?” He cupped his hand around his ear.
She pointed. “The chickens.”
“Long story… Got a call—”
Nervously glancing at the road for the mailman, Leah held up the envelopes. “Give me a
minute to mail these first, okay?”
"Letters to Patrick?”
Nodding, she held up one finger.
“Pink one.”
She laughed. “Patrick’s little jo—”
“You write to more soldiers?”
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“What?” She frowned. “Oh. I’m sending invitations…”
“Invitations?”
“To my parents.”
He shook his head.
“Not my idea. My brother thinks written invitations demand an answer,” she yelled. “We’re
attempting a… family… uh… reunion of sorts.”
“Reunion?”
Movement at the road caught her eye. “Gotta go!” She took off running, waving her arms to
get the mailman’s attention.
Aidan beeped his truck horn to help out.
Clarence beeped, waved… and pulled away from the mailbox.
“What? He can’t see me?” She stopped running and turned back, dreading the loss of
accounting time a trip into town would take.
“I’ll drop your mail at the post office for you,” Aidan hollered.
“Would you?”
“Least I can do.”
Leah jogged to his truck and handed him her letter. Fingering the invitations, she gave her
mind one last second to come up with a better idea—one that wasn’t going to lead to more
emotional torture for everybody concerned.
Aidan held out his hand.
No save appearing, she relinquished the invitations. She’d just have to hope for the best.
“Thanks.”
Aidan laid the envelopes on his dashboard and drove slowly down her long driveway,
apparently taking her comment that she needed exercise to heart.
She jogged after the truck, Captain in "heel" position beside her, tail low, clearly in work mode
now that animals were on the scene.
Aidan got out of his truck near the barn and leaned down to give her welcoming Border collie
a brisk rub.
Once Leah caught up, she bent, hands on knees, and concentrated on trying to catch her breath.
“Those poor chickens… so unhappy.”
“Don’t like being caged.”
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“Would you?”
“Guess not.” He strode toward her, as tall and lean and loaded with muscle as his brother
Patrick.
The brothers had very different personalities though. Patrick was outgoing, easy to be around,
everybody’s friend. An open book, really.
Aidan was quieter. A compassionate veterinarian. Serious with a dry sense of humor. She
didn’t always know where he was coming from, but she was getting a lot better at figuring him
out.
Although this morning, his mud-stained jeans, sweatshirt, and boots were definitely not his
usual crisp clinic appearance.
Of course, his dark hair and beard were as sharply trimmed as ever. Besides, it would take a
whole lot more than mud to diminish either of the Forester brothers’ charms. “Hard morning?” she
asked.
“I’m hoping you’ll consider taking the hens off my hands.”
“Uh… how many are there?”
“Only had enough cages to bring twenty this trip. Dozen or so still waiting. Brought feeders,
waterers, a few bags of feed.”
Clients’ accounts and tax forms nudged Leah’s mind, but she wasn’t about to turn animals
away. Especially when Aidan was doing the asking. He was always more than generous with help
treating her occasional rescues. “Okay. Sure.”
"Just keep them in a pen near the henhouse when the weather’s reasonable and shut them
inside at night to protect them from predators.” He sized up the small henhouse on the nearby
knoll.
“I have heard coyotes yipping in the woods.”
“Coyotes, sure. And feral cats, rats, raccoons… Karl lost a couple pullets last week. Blamed
an opossum. Whatever it is, it’s hungry and will be back. They’ll be safer here with Captain on the
job.”
“We’ll have to put them in the barn with Pearl and Petunia until I can get the henhouse and
pen ready.”
“Think your potbellied pigs will be willing to give up their quiet barn?”
“They’re not that spoiled,” she huffed.
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Aidan gave her a look from under his brows.
“Well… they’re also very generous. You know, willing to do you a favor.”
“Guess I’m in their debt.”
“So why are you the one moving Karl’s hens? Why isn’t he doing it?”
"Karl’s daughter called from Massachusetts early this morning. Couldn’t reach her dad. I
found—” He shut his eyes briefly as if wanting to shut out the memory. “I found Karl unconscious
in the pasture. Had to call an ambulance.”
“Oh, no, Aidan. What happened?”
“Not sure. Looked like he’d been struggling to untangle a ewe from barbed wire. No idea
where she found it. Karl’s been trying to get rid of the barbed wire on that old farm for years.”
“Good thing his daughter keeps close tabs on him."
“Yeah.” Aidan’s gaze dropped to the ground. “I don’t even know how long he and his dog
were out there.”
“It sounds as if you keep close tabs on him, too.”
“Not close enough.”
“But you found him. And you got him the help he needs.”
"Just hope I wasn’t too late.”
“I hope so, too, Aidan. I’m so sorry this happened.” She wished she knew what more to say.
She hated seeing Aidan so worried. “Anything else I can do to help?”
“Karl could sure use a few prayers."
She hesitated, then gave a short nod.
Aidan pulled down the tailgate.
Plump, golden-feathered chickens noisily peered from wire crates.
"They’re gorgeous.”
"Buff Orpingtons. Best egg producers, according to Karl."
“What could be better than fresh eggs every morning? Are these the only animals Karl raises?”
“The birds are just the tip of the iceberg.” Aidan handed two of the heavy cages to her and
grasped one in each of his hands.
Struggling to carry the cages, five unsettled hens in each, Leah headed for the barn along with
him.
“Too heavy?”
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Fearing her shoulders might leave their sockets at any moment, she gave her head a little
shake. “No problem.”
“Set them down,” he said sternly.
She did… with a thud, but only because she was going to drop them if she didn’t.
The hens fluttered and squawked their displeasure.
“Sorry, girls.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” Aidan said. “I didn’t think. Those hens are about eight pounds
apiece plus the ten-pound cage.”
“I need to lift weights.”
“Naw. You don’t need a lot of muscle. You look good the way you are.”
Leah shot him a surprised smile. “You think so?”
Aidan looked away. “Can you get the door?”
She tried lifting one cage with both hands and waddled slowly toward the barn.
“Leah… give it up. Can you get the door and show me where you want these?”
“Right.” She carefully set down the cage and scurried to slide open the big livestock barn
door. The faint smells of potbellied pigs greeted her as she walked in. Resident kittens darted in
all directions, their mothers sleepily eyeing the intruders.
Leaving Captain attentively guarding the truck, Aidan carried all the caged hens inside.
She slid the door shut behind him and led the way down the barn aisle. “How many animals
does Karl have?”
Aidan hesitated as if figuring out his answer. “Enough to fill your pastures and most of your
stalls.”
“You’re kidding.”
No raised eyebrow, the giveaway he was teasing. Instead, he met her gaze.
“You’re serious?”
He set down the cages and hung his large hands on slim hips. “No way I can move out there
and keep the clinic going, too. Called everybody I can think of to find somebody to live there. No
takers so far. Ideas?”
She considered for a few seconds. “You’re not asking me if I’ll move out there, are you?”
“Why? Would you consider it?”
She scrunched her nose. “Karl lives so far from civilization. He probably doesn’t even have
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internet, does he?”
“He’s not much for technology.”
“Then there’s no way. Tax season.”
“Yeah, that wouldn’t work. But you do have a lot of room here.”
She did. And she’d taken in dogs and puppies, kittens, goats, potbellied pigs, a few hamsters,
and one rowdy mule. But the most animals she’d had at one time were thirteen puppies from two
litters. She’d even found homes for all thirteen, not that it had been easy. “It’s just that…”
“Yeah.” He blew out a breath. “Tax season.”
“What other animals does Karl have?”
"Cows that need to be milked twice a day. You don’t have the facilities, and you don’t want
to do it by hand.”
She shook her head. “What else?”
“Ewes… llamas… they’re pretty much pasture animals. Didn’t you and your volunteers
secure your big pasture fence and repair the shelter last summer?”
“For that crazy mule I took in for a few weeks before Zebadiah Krentz decided his mule
needed a pal. But I don’t know a thing about ewes or llamas.”
“I can help. And unlike Karl, you do have the internet for background.”
“True… what I don’t have is time to do research.”
He dragged in a breath. “Think about it?”
“I’d like to help you out… I really would…” She needed to say no, not when she was right in
the middle of her busiest time of year. And she had the Reclamation Committee meeting tonight
and this crazy scheme of her brother’s and… “If there were more than twenty-four hours in a
day…”
“Yeah.” He turned and strode down the barn aisle away from her.
Leah stood there for a moment, feeling horrible for letting him down. At least she was helping
with the chickens. That was something, right? At least it would be if she quit standing around.
She hustled to the bedding straw stacked along one wall and lugged a bale to a stall just as
Aidan returned with the other two cages of hens. She cut the twine binding the bale and went to
work scattering straw.
Aidan carried the caged hens into the stall.
Leah set about opening the cages. She smiled as the gorgeous clucking hens emerged from
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confinement and strutted around, exploring their new space.
But the worry in Aidan’s compassionate brown eyes gnawed at her. She did a quick brain scan
of the projects she and her handful of volunteers had accomplished on her farm and those still
needing to be done.
Maybe…
Really? She was still considering…
“How many pasture animals are there?” she asked.
“About twenty ewes, three due to lamb soon, so they’ll need stalls for a while. Seven llamas.
Eight porkers—”
She sneezed. “Pigs? I love pigs!"
“Karl doesn’t pamper his like you pamper Pearl and Petunia though.”
Leah stooped to release hens from one of the cages. “Pigs are intelligent enough to figure out
how to get what they want,” she tossed over her shoulder.
“Doesn’t mean you need to give them everything they want,” he tossed back.
She sneezed. “You know I give Pearl and Petunia only fruit and vegetables for treats now.”
“Whenever they want them.”
“Untrue.” She sniffed as she stood to face him. “Petunia lost a pound the last time we weighed
her if you remember.”
“Has she gained it back?”
“Of course not.”
“You hope not.”
He almost always caught her bluffs. She couldn’t help but smile as she opened the last cage
and got another stall ready for the hens that were still at Karl’s. While she worked, she made mental
lists of the pros and cons of taking on a whole bunch of animals.
Taking empty cages with him, Aidan made several trips to his truck for feeders, waterers, bags
of feed.
“That about does it for now,” he finally said. “Have to get back to Karl’s. So… what about
more animals? Think it could possibly work?”
She sneezed a series of sneezes, tax forms flashing before her like a neon stop sign. As much
as she’d like to help Aidan and Karl’s animals, the last thing she could do was turn a blind eye to
her clients.
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If she did, she’d lose her livelihood, her farm, her self-respect, and total credibility with her
clients and everybody she cared about. She’d probably have to leave Noah’s Crossing. Move back
to Texas. Live with her dad and brother… Red clay flashed before her eyes.
Never gonna happen.
She blew out a couple breaths of the emotional drama she’d unfortunately inherited from her
mother. “I need to get back to my numbers.”
He studied her in that disconcerting way that always made her brace herself a bit.
“Aidan, I’m sorry, but managing bunches of animals I have no experience with and no idea
how to care for sounds like a sure recipe for disaster.”
“Karl runs his farm like a well-oiled machine.”
“That’s great, but I don’t have a well-oiled machine. I don’t have a machine at all.”
“You have to see his setup, Leah. You, of all people, will appreciate the organization behind
the way he houses his animals.” Aidan shot her a hopeful look mixed with a tad of desperation.
“Just take a look. Do you have time to ride out there with me now?”
Leah shook her head. An organized system would help, but efficiency wasn’t her only
problem. “Karl’s a veterinarian, Aidan. He recognizes emergencies, where everything with
animals is an emergency to me.”
He shot her a frown.
“You know that’s true.”
“I’ll tell you when something is an emergency just like I do now. I’m not going anywhere.”
Leah sighed. Was she overreacting? Animals needed her. Not someday. Right now. Wasn’t
that the reason she’d bought this farm in the first place? To someday rescue animals?
And sure… Aidan was her veterinarian… but he was also her friend. He’d helped her more
than once when she needed it. “Okay, okay, I’ll go with you to see Karl’s well-oiled machine.”
“Yeah?” His entire, profoundly good-looking face brightened.
“No promises given though.”
Sobering, he met her eyes. “No promises taken.”

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