Second Chance by Van Barrett

Author:Van Barrett [Barrett, Van]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-02-19T23:00:00+00:00

20

Misty and Scout

– Rust –

An older man with a leathery-face and cloudy brown eyes came out to greet them. He had a bushy white beard that was stained yellow around his lips, no doubt from smoking cigarettes. He and Clay shook hands, made some small talk. The old man talked with a thick hillbilly accent. Clay introduced him as 'Critter' to Rust.

In place of a handshake, Critter gave Rust the country once-over capped with a dismissive, frowning nod. Rust could tell Critter was probably thinking some strange things about the 'city slicker' in the hoodie, jeans, hat and glasses. Rust didn't mind; he found it amusing.

This was Clay's new world, strange as it was.

Critter led the two through the pen that was made of metal pipe-railing. It looked far too small for horses to live there—but, Rust figured, that was kind of the idea of it. They weren't here to live long lives …

Rust noticed now the way Clay walked had changed. He had a confident strut, and a wide, slightly bow-legged stance. Rust looked closer and noticed that, thanks to that hip injury, Clay was hiding a small limp. But with his thumbs tucked through his belt loops, the pieces all came together, and the image was complete: Clay looked like a good ol' boy from the south. A real modern-day, struttin' cowboy.

It was a funny reminder that they'd come from such different backgrounds. And that so much time had passed between them since they last saw each other.

Critter led Clay to a pen with two horses in it, one older and the other obviously younger. Words and terminology that Rust didn't understand were thrown around. The older horse was a 14 year old bay tobiano mare; the other was her baby, a three year old bay tobiano colt. Whatever that meant.

“This here's Misty,” Clay told Rust as he stroked the horse's muzzle. “She's a sweet girl.”

Misty was colored with brown and white splotches, a brown mane and tail. She was a pretty horse.

“And this here's Scout, her son.”

Scout had a more dramatic coat than his mama. He was pure white from his head, down to his hips—which were completely brown. With an almost perfectly straight line that spanned his waist, it looked like he was wearing brown pants, complete with a hole for his white tail to stick out from. He was kind of hilariously cute, and he had the zany, young personality to match.

Clay turned to Rust to tell him the story of how mother and son got to be here.

(And meanwhile, Critter added his grumble-throated mm-hmms to confirm that each detail of the story Clay relayed was indeed true.)

Their previous owner had a pasture of stallions, that she for some reason hadn't bothered to cut and allowed to run wild. Somehow, this owner added Misty to her pasture, and, surprise surprise, the mare got knocked up in no time flat.

This came as a surprise to the owner. But, as Clay explained, what might seem to be common sense to you and I is not always so common.

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