Heart and Soul (rewrite)

Chapter Fifteen

Eventually I had to rest. I collapsed beside sagebrush, my hoof throbbing, my eyelids weighing down heavily. Sleep was merciful that day, and I slipped into oblivion quickly.

When I awoke I had a halter over my head, and four people held the ends of ropes. I shut my eyes slowly. I was sick of fighting, sick of suffering. I just wanted to stay here, rest, never move again. They spoke in quiet voices, using low tones. I studied their faces.

The first man was tall and lanky, his weathered face shadowed by a wide brimmed hat. His skin was dark and leathery, his eyes a shining brown. Curly black hair spilled from under his hat. He leaned on his saddle horn, one hand resting on the chestnut coat of his mare. The second man had lighter skin, and his hat was stained black. A smile made blue eyes dance from beneath his thick eyebrows. His mare stared at me with her single blue eye, the other was a dark brown. She was a plain bay, with a big bald face. The third man sat quietly atop an overo gelding. From what I could make out, his eyes were a light brown, similar to his horse's, and his hair was a matching mousey color with streaks of grey starting at the roots. The fourth was a woman, perched atop a little quarter horse gelding. She had black hair coupled with brown eyes, and her skin was dark. Lighter than the first man's, more of a dusty tan. Slowly, as sleep began to fade, I could make out what they were saying.

"She's a mama, lost her foal on I-80, poor thing. What was puzzlin', though, was that she had a yearlin' with her, not a baby. It was a pity, the officers said she was strawberry roan." That was Chestnut Man, his hand rhythmically tracing circles on his mare's sleek shoulder.

"They're doing round-ups bout seventy miles away." Overo Man added. "Maybe she escaped with her yearling, and starting babying her."

"Her knees are bleeding." Bay Man pointed out, beginning to turn his mare. "Let's get her back, see how bad she's hurt."

They tugged, and finally, I dragged myself to my hooves. As feeling came back, and my thoughts sorted themselves out, I remembered Salvaje. An angry buzzing began in my ears, which were flat against my poll. I lunged at the closest horse, the black quarter horse. He squealed as my teeth tore a hunk from his hind end, and his rider kicked at my face, her only defense until the rest of her group could help. I turned my sights on her, snapping viciously, striking at the gelding in an attempt to reach her. Her kind had murdered the last piece of the wild I had left. She screamed again, her horse struggling under my onslaught, the scent of blood and adrenaline making me dizzy. Violent tugs on my face were a sad attempt to derail me, shouts and cries barely pierced the fog of rage I felt. She finally got a solid kick to my muzzle and blood spurted forth, at which point I fell back, shaking. The entire attack lasted less than thirty seconds. All three men stared, mouths hanging open, while the black gelding limped in circles, blood spilling from countless wounds.

From me.

Memories came rushing back. A mare, impaled through her chest, screaming as she bled out. My own blood, pooling at my hooves, while a man stood before me, whip in hand. Raven and Azulejo, trampled to death, the red fluid staining the hooves and legs of those behind them. And finally, the blood dripping from my nose, mixing with the dust to form a foul smelling, sticky mud. It was too much. Too much blood. Too much pain. Too much suffering. I reared, tipping my bleeding muzzle to the sky, and sent out a silent plea. A cry for help. To help me, to help my fillies, to help Paloma.

When I came back down three horses stared at me. They had no pity. But one did. The bay mare met my gaze, and slowly dipped her head. Suddenly, she arched her back, and exploded straight up. Bay Man flew from the saddle, my rope falling from his hand. Only two people held me now. Overo man had my rope tied to his saddle horn, and Chestnut Man was fumbling to do the same. But Bay Mare spun into his horse, pushing the mare sideways, and throwing him off balance. My rope fell from his hands. With a whinny of gratitude thrown over my shoulder I took off, yanking the saddle of Overo Man with such violence that the horn broke, and he slid off sideways. With a final buck Bay Mare took off after me, but struggled to catch up.

I slowed down, and met her eye as she caught up. No words passed between us, but I understood.

She was going to show me to safety.

We galloped until the reeling group of four was left far behind, at which point we fell into an exhausted walk, and I felt the stone in my hoof more than ever before. It made me nearly dead lame, so Bay Mare adjusted her pace accordingly. We sheltered beneath a group of straggly trees, and she stood guard while I laid down. I slept barely an hour before I was awake again, and full of questions.

"Why did you save me?"

She turned her head to look at me, the shank bit catching the meager amount of light cast by the sliver of moon. "I lost my baby too." She peered back out at the expanse of land and sagebrush. "But I lost my freedom on top of that. I couldn't let that happen to another. They'll be mad when I go back, but I'm his favorite." A shadow of a smile touched her face. I nodded, thanked her again, and stood beside her in quiet companionship. We bonded over our shared pain.

When I had rested enough we struck out again, this time crossing several streams and wading through high grass. At one point she even led me over a section of barbed wire, tangled around the post and buried in the grass.

By the time the sky took on its rosy pall of early morning, when the birds are just beginning to sing, she stopped.

"This is where the ranch ends. You're safe here."

"Thank you so much." I replied, watching the horizon. I turned my head and for a moment our noses touched, and her scent flooded my being. I breathed deeply. "Thank you."

Then she broke off, and with a glance over her shoulder with her single blue eye she picked up a canter, and vanished in a cloud of dust. That blue eye brought back memories of Azulejo, and as I resumed my journey, I walked with my head down, ears back, eyes half closed, and one hoof barely touching the ground.

Where I would end up next was anyone's guess.