A Cup of Comfort Stories for Courage by Colleen Sell

Author:Colleen Sell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: stories, courage, inspiration
Publisher: Adams Media
Published: 2012-01-03T00:00:00+00:00

Love’s Imprint

By Candace Carrabus

“I have to get help,” my mother said.

“No!” I gasped. “Don’t leave me.”

“Hang on till I get back. You’ll be all right.”

She didn’t know if that was true, but she knew she had to go.

At nineteen, I thought I was indestructible. Working with horses, though, meant danger always shadowed the next gallop, the next jump.

On a typical hot and humid July day on Long Island, Mom and I did the sensible thing — we went to the beach. She straddled Captain, a trusty quarter horse borrowed from the stable, and I sat astride my own Sasha, a flighty thoroughbred mare.

I was fit and rode every day, so was very confident in my abilities. Mom was a good rider, but didn’t get enough hours in the saddle to be truly secure, so keeping a close watch on her was important.

At the private beach, a secluded and deserted strip of sand bracketed by salt marshes, cool water beckoned. I guided Sasha into the calm expanse of bay until she was chest deep, while up on the beach Mom watched from Captain’s back.

Sasha balked, as she always did. She didn’t like the water, or perhaps it was the uncertain footing. But as usual, she went on at my insistence, her whole body tensing with each step. I’ll never know what spooked her that day, but suddenly, she leapt for shore, panicked, and went down, thrashing.

My first thought was simply to get out of her way. I slid off, but with Sasha’s legs churning like pistons, I couldn’t find my footing. Then, she heaved up her front end, and I got sucked beneath her belly with a whoosh, and she jumped out over me, using my chest as a spring board. I watched her right hind hoof rush straight at my face and felt it ram my sternum and force me under. The momentum of the blow propelled me to my feet, and I lurched toward dry ground.

I started to say, “I don’t want to die,” but couldn’t complete the sentence, because I could not draw a breath.

My mother flung herself from Captain and hit the ground running, reaching me as I collapsed. Sasha made a beeline for home, some four miles through woods and across a busy road. Mom swore as Captain easily broke the flimsy branch his rein was hastily tied to and followed.

Her nurse’s training served us well. She checked my vitals. Pulse weak but regular, no bleeding, and I had started to breathe. Each painful inhalation, however, made it clear that things inside were not right.

“Something’s broken,” I said. The sun’s glare in my eyes forced them closed.

“Stay awake. Concentrate. Let’s get you in the shade.”

“Hurts to move my head. Can’t lift my arms.”

My mother got me to my knees. Careful to support my neck, she dragged me under the sparse protection of a bush at the edge of the dunes and gently laid me down.

“I have to get help.”

Anguish etched Mom’s features when I begged her to stay.

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