The Rancher's Family Thanksgiving. Cathy Thacker Gillen

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      Jimmy Rooney and his father met them at the entrance to the horse barn. Mr. Rooney was a mild-looking man, unlike his son, who seemed like an arrogant kid.

      Susie sized up the sixteen-year-old with the custom-made Western clothing, expensive hat and hand-tooled boots, and the fifty-year-old man beside him. She figured out two things right off the bat. The kid was in charge here, not the parent, and the kid was trouble.

      Mr. Rooney shook hands with Tyler. Unlike his son, he was all grace and warmth. “I’d like you to examine Catastrophe. I thought he was favoring his right front leg during the warm-up, but couldn’t be sure.”

      “I told you, Dad. I didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary when I was riding him!” Jimmy Rooney glared at Tyler. “You’ll see. Nothing is wrong with my horse. Nothing that would keep me from racing him tonight anyway.” Jimmy brushed past the other contestants in the barn, and led the way to the stall where his horse was quartered.

      With a gentle word to the sleek stallion, Tyler entered the stall and squatted to examine the dark brown quarter horse, with the glossy black mane and tail. “I can feel the heat in this leg.”

      Jimmy sent a panicked, angry look at his father. “We’re supposed to compete tonight!” Jimmy turned to Tyler with a haughty glare. “It’s for the area championship.”

      Tyler examined the rest of the horse, then settled next to the right front leg once again. As Tyler pressed gently, the horse snorted in response and attempted to push Tyler’s hand away by rubbing his head against his right leg.

      Tyler petted Castastrophe, then stood and spoke gently in his ear. The horse calmed under Tyler’s ministering touch.

      Tyler turned to Jimmy and his father. “I know this is disappointing, but I advise against racing Catastrophe tonight. His leg needs to be wrapped and iced.”