Hey guys! This is my first story, so please be kind and comment and vote!
XOXOXOXO
Katy
CHAPTER 1
"You know, Aunt Abbey said that she would be more than happy to let me stay with her even though I've graduated", I muttered.
"Well I was missing you kid" Michael, my father, replied gruffly. I huffed and turned away from him. I peeked at him from under my lashes. He looked just like he had all those years ago before I left. He was tanned and his skin was slightly leathery. He wore a black Stetson just like always.
We were almost to the road that led up to the ranch when the first pasture began to come in to sight. As we were nearing it, a herd of horses crested one of the gently rolling hills that covered the meadows. They stopped at the top and milled around aimlessly. A large bay gelding thrust himself to the front and watched us as the truck rolled to a stop. His eyes were large and intelligent. "He's a beauty aint' he?" dad asked with a little grin.
"Yeah what's his name?"
"That's Jazz. He's kinda like the little leader of this brood. Too bad he's gelded though he'd make some really nice foals. Especially with that little grey mare. I had to have him gelded when the BLM brought him though. Just too much to handle as a stallion. I do kind of regret it now" he said, his grin turning down a bit at the corners.
Suddenly, I saw a small flash of movement and looked over to see a beautiful little grey filly come running from the other side of the meadow. She charged up the hill and squealed when the others didn't immediately get out of her way. She trotted over to the big bay and rubbed her head against his shoulder. She wasn't very tall for a mustang and her coat was unusual. Almost as if someone had mixed and bunch of different styled grey flecks and then painted them on her in intricate designs. Her eyes sparkled with life and a hint of mischief. I continued to stare at the filly. In a whisper I asked," Who's she?".
"That's Genea. She's one of my favorites." The little filly tossed her head and trotted into the back behind the hills with the rest of the heard following.
As we pulled into the driveway a deep barking began from under the porch. A huge German Shepherd ran out from under the stairs and started jumping around the truck. Dad got out of the truck. He paused when he noticed that I hadn't gotten out and that I was staring at the huge beast running laps around the car. He smiled and said "Don't worry, he won't bite you. I'm surprised you don't remember him. It's Nico, he was one of Sheba's pups. He was born right before... well right before your accident." I got out and cautiously held out a hand for the big dog. He sniffed for a few seconds and then his tail started to wag when he remembered the smell of the little girl who used to come play with him in the barn when he was a pup. I scratched him behind the ears and smiled when he tipped his head back, tongue lolling out of his mouth. I then followed my dad towards the house. I walked cautiously up the porch steps. Looking around, I was assaulted by the memories on this porch. Sitting on the swing with our old dog Sheba. Watching the sunset after dinner before I would be sent up to bed.
We walked in through the old front door. It still squeaked, and then slammed shut when we let it go. The kitchen was the first room we walked through. I looked around, confused. It was all different. I glanced at dad, he was rubbing the back of his neck and looking around as well. "We, uh, remodeled the kitchen last fall. Put in a new floor, new appliances. It was time for a change. "
"It looks good." I stopped when I saw the old dishcloths folded over the oven handle. I smiled" These are the towels that Mom and Gram made." I looked up at dad, "You kept them, I'm kinda surprised that you didn't get rid of them. But I'm glad you didn't."
"Of course I didn't, your mother loved those damn towels" he said with a small smile. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "Alright kid, let's get these bags up to your room." We climbed the stairs to the second story hallway. I ran my fingers along the wall where the family pictures were. I smiled at the pictures of my dad and me. There were five different photos of us, and two photos of us with Gram from before she got sick. I felt my smile slip a bit thinking about my mom. There were no pictures of her. Not here on the wall, or anywhere in the house.
