Heart and Soul

Chapter 19

"T- th- thank y- y- you." Sarah stuttered. Her mother knelt down and put her hands on Sarah's shoulders.

"Sarah, I know you're scared, but none of these horses will ever hurt you." She hugged Sarah tight.

"That's right." Courtney said, lifting the child's saddle off the rack beside my door. "They go through rigorous testing to be sure they're the right fit." She put her hand on my shoulder. "And Miss Charm here passed with flying colors!"

Sarah still seemed reluctant, even after she was lifted into my saddle. When we were done her mother looked me over.

"You know, when I was a girl I had a chestnut mare with almost the same marking. She saved my, and my mother's, lives."

"That's amazing. What happened to her?" Courtney asked.

The woman shrugged. "We're pretty sure she got stolen. We got another mare who was stolen with her back, and her colt. We lost the mare that same year but I still have her son."

"That's so sad!" Courtney exclaimed. "The people at the barn we got her from said she may not have always had the best life, but she played polo. Their little girl was on her."

I could see the woman's eyes light up slightly. "May I look at her hock? When we were attacked by coyotes the mare I rode got bit on the hock and it scarred over."

"Sure, she doesn't kick."

The woman nodded, then knelt down and ran her hand down my hock. Her finger ran over a slit of dark skin, and her eyes opened wide. She stood up, and came to my head. Gently, she grabbed both sides of my bit and looked me in the eyes.

"Whiskey?" She asked, tears in her eyes.

It was coming back to me! But her name stayed just out of reach, like an apple on the tallest branch. Suddenly she clapped, and I felt myself lower my forehand down in a bow, and the woman clapped her hand over her mouth.

"Oh my God. Oh my God! This is her! This is my mare! Whiskey Lullaby!"

Courtney seemed overwhelmed, and Sarah, well, she seemed just scared.

"Would you like her back Ms. Halliday?" Asked Courtney, holding tight to my reins.

Annie. Annie! Her name was Annie! Annie Halliday! The name came back to me as her scent reached my quivering nostrils.

"When you retire her, she's doing good work here, and she's happy."

I spent seven long, happy years at that place. Finally the day came when Annie and Sarah pulled up with a stock trailer in tow. I remembered the day I first came to Annie, so much time had passed.

The ride was short, and when we arrived home and Annie opened the back of the trailer I could hardly believe my eyes. Nothing had changed since I'd been there, same barn, same trees, same fence, same field, same house, same grass, same everything. But there was no cherry bay gelding and grulla mare grazing in the field.

Instead a grulla gelding with two socks in the front that went up to his knees and two in the back that splashed his hocks. On his face was a snip, and very kind, familiar eyes. Annie clipped a lead line onto my soft leather halter and led me outside. The gelding lifted his head and whinnied.

"That's Pompeii." Explained Annie. "When we got Paloma back she was pregnant. We lost her the same night he was born."

I whinnied back to Pompeii. Annie led me to the gate, slipped off my halter, and let me go. I took off at a gallop, going all the way around the field, bucking all the while. Pompeii broke off from his grazing to join me, but I was faster. He was stockier, holding truer to his Mustang sire than his Thoroughbred dam.

I heard another whinny, one so cherished and missed it made my short, fine hair stand on end. I reared up and spun around, and there he was. That roan coat, black nose, thin blaze, white coronets. Blue.

I whinnied his name, then took off towards him, my legs eating up the ground in huge, powerful strides. Pompeii quickly broke off, knowing he was no match for me. Blue nickered back, trotted out of the shed. We met a few seconds later, me dancing around him and he following me. I nipped his mane, tugged on his forelock, then we were off, speeding across the field.

I heard Annie whistle, and Blue spun around, cantering towards her. He stopped at the fence, blowing and snorting. I turned around and followed Blue, stopping at his side. Pompeii came cantering over, his face a mask of disdain at being forgotten. Annie laughed, and his expression quickly evaporated.

Sarah grew up and went to something called High School, Annie fed us every morning and every night, often spending long hours with us. She always sang my song, and it made me happy that she hadn't forgotten it. The two geldings and I spent our days in the warm sun beneath the oak tree, just like I had done with Vikingo and Paloma so many years ago.