Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
I smile at him shyly and walk all the way to the end of the stall, stopping right in front of Hope. "Hi," I whisper to her as she turns her head and looks at me. Her eyes almost matching mine, she nuzzles my hand, and I smile at her. “Good morning to you, too,” I say while her tail moves side to side.
"You can open the top of the gate,” Quinn says. "On the side is a latch." He points at the silver latch. There are two latches, one for the top and one for the bottom.
"Will it scare her?" I ask, not wanting to bother her, and he just shakes his head. I look back at Hope, who looks at me through the gated door. She is sizing me up just as I size everyone up around me.
"Just talk to her," he tells me. “As long as she can sense that you’re calm, she isn’t going to go crazy on you."
I unlock the latch and then look at her. “I won’t hurt you,” I say softly. The same words I’ve wanted said to me at least once. “It’s okay." I hold out my hand to her, and she takes a step forward but then goes back. "It’s going to be sunny today,” I say, not moving my hand as she moves her neck a bit closer. "You are such a pretty girl,” I say, and she sniffles or grunts. I’m not sure which one because I’ve never met an actual horse. I take a tiny step forward to rub her neck. “I won’t hurt you," I whisper. “I promise." She doesn’t move, but she does let me rub her neck. “What’s your story, Hope?" I ask. “What’s your story, pretty girl?" I look into her eyes, and I can swear she understands everything I say to her.
"She was left for dead,” Quinn says. "She couldn’t breed, so her owner just dumped her off at an abandoned farm." I look back at the beautiful girl in front of me. Her tail moves side to side. “She was skin and bones when we found her. She had one foot infected from an untreated cut. She had a scar on the side I’m sure she got from when they used to ride her and probably whipped her to go faster or whipped her to breed. No one will ever know."
"Oh my God,” I say, putting my hand to my heart. She comes forward, and her muzzle smells the arm in the sling. She bends her head and hits the hand with her forehead.
"She likes you,” Quinn says.
"Really?" I say, happy that she likes me. “How can you tell?"
"She’s making you touch her,” he says, coming next to me. “She is very picky about who she lets touch her.”
"Does she let you?" I ask, and he nods.
"Only because I feed her,” he says. “Do you want to ride her?"
I look at him, and I try not to show how much I want to ride her, but the smile on my face speaks volumes. “I don’t want to push her and make her do something she isn’t comfortable doing,” I say, and he smiles.
"We haven’t gotten anyone to ride her," Quinn says, turning and walking into the closet at the end of the hallway.
“It’s okay if you don’t want me to ride you,” I say, stepping closer to her and rubbing her neck. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do,” I say, and her brown eyes meet mine. "Promise."
"Let’s get the saddle on her,” Quinn says, and I move aside as he steps into the stall and talks softly to her.
"You going to let Willow take a ride?" he asks, his voice calm and reassuring. "She isn’t going to hurt you," he tells her. “And I’ll be right there." He ties the bottom of the saddle under her belly.
"Will that hurt her?" I ask. He shakes his head, grabbing the reins and walking out of the stall with her. "Let’s see if she is going to let you walk her out."
"What do I do?" I ask, and he smiles at me.
"Just walk out the door." He points at the open door at the end of the hall where we walked in from.
I hold the reins as I take a step forward, and she walks slowly beside me. Her eyes roam the room exactly as mine do when I walk into a new space. "Are you looking for a way out?" I whisper. “I do that, too,” I say as we take steps forward. When we get out of the barn, she looks around.
"She’s never done that,” Quinn says, coming out of the barn with a black horse by his side. "She trusts you." He smiles at me.
"Or she knows I’m just as broken as she is,” I say and then look at his horse. The horse looks almost purple in the light. “Is that your horse?"