Page 4 of Thawed Gladiator: Cassius (Awakened From the Ice #3)
Chapter Four
D iana
My phone rings, piercing the quiet of my tiny apartment and making me nearly jump out of my skin. Laura’s name flashes on the screen. I hesitate to answer—I’d emailed her my picks for our first two therapy horses, and I’m terrified she’ll hate them and fire me before I’ve even started.
“Diana, good morning. I wanted to discuss the horses you suggested. Can you come in today?”
My stomach twists. Has she realized a high school dropout with a GED isn’t qualified to work with ancient warriors, so famous they’ve headlined on every major newspaper around the world? “Sure, I’ll be there in an hour.”
An hour later, I’m perched on the edge of my chair in Laura’s office, launching into my pitch before she can fire me. “I chose two geldings, both around sixteen hands. Big enough to carry a gladiator, but total teddy bears personality-wise.”
When Laura nods encouragingly, some of my tension eases.
“The first is a ten-year-old Quarter Horse named Buddy—super calm, great with beginners. The technical term for a horse like him is ‘bombproof’,” I joke. “The second is Atlas, an eight-year-old Percheron cross. He’s got a bit more spirit, but he’s patient and willing to learn.”
“They sound perfect,” Laura says with a smile. “Now, about your first client. We need to discuss Cassius.”
My ears perk up at the name. So far, my research has been entirely digital, and aside from Varro, none of the gladiators have been photographed or identified. My excitement swirls through me as this job becomes real.
Laura’s expression turns serious. “Cassius suffered a severe head injury just before he was… preserved. The doctors don’t think he’ll ever recover his memories.”
My heart aches at the thought. Waking up in a new world with no memory of who you were? It must be terrifying.
“I’ve researched head injuries and equine therapy from my last job.” My hands shake slightly as I pull folders full of notes out of my backpack. “There’s evidence horses can help with balance, coordination, even cognitive function.”
Laura looks impressed, and I feel a small surge of pride. Maybe I’m not as out of my depth as I thought.
“Perfect. I’d like you to discuss your approach with his medical team tomorrow morning at eight.”
And just like that, my doubts slam back into me. “His medical team? I’m not sure I should—”
“Diana,” Laura interrupts gently, “you’re more qualified than you think. Your experience and passion are exactly what we need. Just be yourself and share your ideas.”
The next day, I clutch my backpack as I follow the receptionist to meet with the team. I battle the familiar voice in my head telling me I don’t belong. One part screams that Laura made a huge mistake when she hired me, while another insists I’m not stupid and every moment of my life has led to this.
The conference room’s packed with people in white coats. All eyes turn to me, and my throat goes dry. I grip my research folder like a shield.
Dr. Reeves, Cassius’s neurologist, welcomes me warmly. All she has to do is ask an open-ended question about my therapy ideas, and my thoughts tumble out.
As I tell the group we’ll begin with simple grooming tasks to build trust and motor skills, moving to groundwork exercises for balance and coordination, my nerves fade. Horses, therapy, helping people—this is what I know. The physical therapist seems particularly excited about the balance exercises.
“This could be exactly what Cassius needs,” she says eagerly. “A way to rebuild his physical skills without the pressure of a clinical setting.”
As the meeting wraps up, Dr. Reeves pulls me aside. “Diana, I’m impressed. You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this. I think you’re going to make a real difference in Cassius’s life.”
Her words warm me, giving me a much-needed confidence boost. Maybe I won’t mess this up after all.
Driving back to my apartment, my mind whirls with plans. I may not have fancy degrees or years of experience, but I have something just as important: I know firsthand how horses can heal people. They saved my life once. Now maybe they can help save someone else’s.
Tomorrow I start this job for real—with an actual client, a two-thousand-year-old one. Cassius may have lost his past, but I’m determined to help him build a future. One day at a time, one gentle horse nuzzle at a time.