A Horse Is Worth More Than Riches

Chapter Nine - Baby

"So, Melanie, how's business at the moment?" I asked. Melanie, her father, and her new husband, Andrew were over to dinner at our house. I had just served up Clancy's famous spaghetti and meatballs and everyone was enjoying it immensely. 

"Great thanks, Halle," Melanie replied. "Dad's saddles are selling well at the moment because the heat has made their old saddles' leather crack. Not Dad's of course," she added.

"Good to hear," I answered, pleased their business was going so well. 

"So, how's work for you going?" Melanie enquired, forking a red meatball and popping it into her mouth.

"Good," I said. I was a graphic designer, working from home. Clancy's school teacher income  combined with my pay left us pretty well off, and able to care for our growing equine family.

Further up the table, Clancy and Andrew were discussing horse training methods.

"I believe you need to act as a leader, firm but kind," Clancy was saying. "It's important to make the horse feel-"

A sharp neigh cut through our conversation. I shoved back my chair and raced to door, followed closely by Clancy and the Dwanes.

When I reached the barn, I looked into Mercutio's stall first, as he was closest to the door. He was staring in awe into Lecky's stall, as if mesmerised by what he saw. I followed his gaze to Lecky's hooves, where a tiny black filly lay, her tiny ears pricked and her nostrils flared.

"Clancy, look!" I breathed, hardly believing the extent of the tiny life in front of me.

"Wow, another girl, huh. Sorry Mercutio, you're outnumbered," he chuckled.

I entered Lecky's stall and cleaned up, ensuring everything was there and the foal was healthy. I glanced up at Mercutio, still staring into his neighbor's stall. It was he who had called out, startled by the sudden appearance of the foal. 

Satisfied with the pair's health, I left the stall to stand next to Clancy. 

"Beautiful, hey?" he asked, gazing at the tiny black foal.

"Definitely. I think her name is Ikon," I said, feeling the name fit with the baby like one puzzle piece to another.

"Ikon," he mused, tasting the name. "I love it,"

We watched as the filly staggered to her feet, nearly toppling over on her long, slender legs. Under Lecky's guidance, she stumbled a few steps and took her first drink, white milk dripping over her perfectly-formed muzzle. This little one was precious, the first of our farm's youngsters.