The Truth About Horses by Christy Cashman

Author:Christy Cashman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SparkPress

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I dread going to the barn knowing Blake and Lexi are already in there. But it looks like Sue Landry, the new vet, is here too. And I really like Sue.

There’s already lots of activity when Treasure and I walk in. I can hear music and voices and the moving around of horses. It’s always exciting when Sue and her girlfriend, Carol, show up. Sometimes, if Carol doesn’t have to be at her health food store, she comes to assist. Especially when it’s not an emergency, just routine stuff. And today is routine stuff. Sue’s here to vaccinate all the horses and check on Olive.

“We’re fragile creatures, aren’t we?” Sue says as she pats Olive’s big jaw. Sue is a tiny thing, not much taller than I am. Her bright green eyes stand out against her brown skin. She’s from Louisiana and moved out West to go to vet school and never went back.

“Why’s it taking so long?” I ask her.

“Just lazy,” Sue says as she holds her stethoscope way underneath Olive’s belly. “Babies can be lazy about moving on. They act like, ‘I’ve got everything I need right here, so why should I leave?’”

I give Olive a fresh bucket of water and scratch her forehead. “Don’t worry, girl. Soon.” She blows out a long sigh, and I think about how many times this week I’ve told her the same thing. Then I follow Sue to her next patient—Blake’s horse, Gator. Carol carries Sue’s tackle box of supplies and sets it down in front of Gator’s stall.

Carol and Sue are a great team, which is funny because they’re total opposites. Carol has short red hair, always has a mega cup of iced coffee, even in winter, and wears high-top sneakers with shorts cut just above the knee, again, even in winter. Sue is kind of quiet, especially when she’s thinking about what’s making a horse sick or behave differently, but Carol is a talker. Sue is serious, but Carol is fun. She brings an easy mood to the barn and plays happy music.

And today, like always, she brought a box of donuts. She opens the box and holds it out toward me like it’s full of expensive jewelry. Half of the dozen is rainbow sprinkled, the kind she knows I like. I pick a middle one—they stay softer than the ones on the sides. When I take a big bite, I can feel the sprinkles sticking to my lips and dribbling onto the front of my shirt.

“I like your thing,” Carol says, one cheek full of donut. She’s looking at the stone I’m twirling in my free hand. Sometimes I forget I’m holding it.

“Just a stone I found on the road.”

“Cool. Can I see?”

I hold out the stone. It’s looking smoother, like it’s gotten polished from being in my pocket. The gray is almost gone, and pink is peeking through in lots more places. The center is glassy and catches the light, like a little rainbow is trapped inside.

“It didn’t look like that when I found it.

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