I was scrubbing the grimy sides of a plastic water trough when I caught sight of my dad's truck pulling into our long dirt driveway. From the way he was slowly creeping along, I knew that he had brought home another horse. I stood and walked over to meet him as he parked and clambered out.
"I see you bought-- what happened to your arm?" I blurted, noticing a red, painful-looking crescent shaped mark on his forearm.
He looked down as if he had just noticed it. "Oh... He's a biter," he said, smiling sheepishly.
"A biter?"
He ignored my question. "Go open the gate to the back pasture. I'm gonna back the trailer up to it to let him out."
Confused and a little concerned, I jogged around the back of the barn to the small field that was used for keeping new horses separated. The gate swung open with a metallic screech, flakes of rust falling off the hinges like red snow. The field hadn't been used in several years, and my dad didn't exactly maintain it. The grass inside the fence was about a foot high and the wooden shelter in the back corner looked a bit dilapidated.
I held the gate open as my dad backed the trailer up to the opening until it was perfectly aligned, so the horse couldn't squeeze by the sides. He shut off the truck and began to climb over the wooden fence into the pasture so he could open the trailer. I began to follow, but he held up a hand to stop me.
"Just stay out here. I don't want you to get in his way."
"Okay..." I said warily. He was acting like this horse was a maniac, but surely he wouldn't have spent money on a dangerous animal that he couldn't control. I rested my arms on the top rail of the fence and watched as he positioned himself at the latch of the trailer door.
He took a deep breath. "One... Two...three!" He unhooked the latch and swung the door open wide, running with it. The bottom ramp slammed into the ground loudly as the horse inside began scrambling, the sound of his hooves against the metal like gunshots.
The creature exploded out of the trailer, a speeding black blur in the sun. My dad threw himself onto the fence just in time as the horse shot by, galloping wildly and nearly trampling him.
I watched the horse as he ran around the corral, bucking and tossing his head. I took in his shaggy mane, compact body, and muscular legs, amazed by his sheer power as he moved.
"You bought a mustang?" I blurted in disbelief, wheeling on my dad.
He kept his eyes trained on the horse, his arms crossed in front of his chest. "Yes m'am," he said casually.
"Do you also happen to be on crack?"
He took a deep breath and looked at me sideways. "No, Shay, I intentionally bought this horse."
"Why?"
"He's the perfect size and has great conformation. He'll make a good barrel horse for someone once he's trained."
"Oh yeah? And who's gonna train him?"
"I figured he'd be a nice summer project for you and Luke."
I stared at him, waiting for him to tell me he was joking, but his straight expression didn't change. A sharp, humorless laugh erupted from my throat. Without another word, I turned and stormed away toward the house.
* * * *
The phone rang four times before Luke finally picked up.
"Hello?" He answered, his voice thick and husky, as if he had just woken up.
"I need you to get down here," I said.
YOU ARE READING
Heart of Georgia
Romance(UNDER CONSTRUCTION) Shay Crawford never thought her parents would get divorced. She never thought she would have to leave Georgia. She never thought her life would self-destruct. And she definitely never thought that her mom would die when she was...
